Experimentation

The important thing is that I learned my lesson.

A few days before I went up Las Cuevas, I made a stop at a Brodie's, which is the main grocery store of Belize. While I was there I purchased various necessities, such as chocolate, saltines, and a bottle of Stoli vodka (don't worry mi parentes, this one is on me). The truth is, I prefer the taste of vodka to most alcohols. It is just pure and clean. Destructive too.

On July 4th, the first day at camp, and the critical partying day of the American year, I got pounded. It started with helping Beth find her rum, and subsequently, receiving a Pina Colada. That down the hatch, I began to play Kings Cup. For those who don't know what that is: King's Cup is a game where cards are laid out in a circle and each card has a specific value. And, since we were playing with Brits, we combined the two sets of rules. Regardless, when a King is drawn, you add a splash of whatever you have in your cup to the main cup. When the last King is drawn, the "winner" drinks down the whole cup. So, now I continue. I began playing King's Cup. I downed about four ounces of rum, followed by at least eight or nine of vodka, and then I won. The whole damn thing I won. A mix of vodka, rum, orange juice, and Belikin Beer. Gross, a whole cup. An entirely full and massive whole cup...

I am of a good build, and thusly am able to hold my alcohol. This I know. However, the combination of all that hard liqueur, in a relatively short amount of time, wiped me out. It might have been better, but, I continued into the next game. But just for a little bit. I sipped a few sips of vodka, and then walked back to the main porch.

Never close your eyes. Never do it if you know you are wasted. The spinning, whirling, dropping, crazy black vortex will take your soul. I have never thrown up before, not from the drink. Never say never. Off the porch railing it went. And again. It honestly seemed like a dream, an illusion, some kind of nightmare. I then went into the Mess Hall and drank some water. Next mistake. At least for me. I then tried to close my eyes. Second mistake. Off the railing again. Everyone kept pressing me to drink water. Get it out of my system. Every time it would disappear into the brink.

Thank Goodness for friends. They stand by you even in your most desperate moments. Moments when they could just leave you to suffer alone. Thank Goodness for those friends. They helped me out a lot over the course of the next hour. Kept making me drink water. Kept helping me get back up after I failed to hold even that down. Deeper and deeper did the vortex pull me. Deeper and deeper.

My last recollection of time is 11 o'clock. The rest of the story was told to me by Tom.

Thank Goodness for those friends that are so great that they are family. They will make everything better, even if it isn't possible. Tom and Marcella stayed by me during the blackout. They would get me to drink water and let me lay on the porch, within easy waste removal vicinity. Tom said I threw up a lot. I bet I did. I murmured a lot, many many suicidal things. It was very horrible, at least I remember it was horrible. At long last, the deemed me ready to sleep. They left me in a chair on the porch. After a half hour of this sleep, I walked off. Into the jungle. Tom was summoned from sleep, and went out to go find me. This he did, and laid me to rest in the chair again. Another half hour passes. The roar of the radio awakens Tom again, and he goes out, to find the wandering drunk. The chair, again. A belt would have been better. The third time, I wake up. I remember this event. I felt lucid. Sick, but lucid. I walked to the guest house where I sleep. And slept without a break. Unfortunately, the soldier watching me did not believe me when I told him I was going off to sleep. Tom, yet again, was pulled from slumber. It took them a long time to find me, but eventually, they opened the door of the guest house, and found me curled up like a kitten.

The next morning, I received a drinking education. You have to drink water. It is necessary for your survival. Due to the actions of my comrades, I drank enough water to sink a ship. And thusly, had no headache, no excruciating brightness, and no pained hearing. Vodka is a fast acting alcohol. It will get to your head in no time flat. Rum, however, is a slower drink, and takes its toll later. The reason beer is so popular, is that you often get full before you get horribly wasted. As well, the vortex may be devilish, sucking and spinning, but it rots away the poison in your system. It, despite everything, is a good thing. And... Everyone does this. Everyone. If your time has not come yet, it will.


Today, I decided that after eight days, I would be fine. I took a sip of the Stolichnaya that was sitting in my room. Even as the vapors touched my tongue,my stomach turned on me. Nausea filled my arteries. Disgust filled my veins. But, I held it down, and did not try again. And so there it sits, a bottle mostly full, a testament to learning experiences.

I leave you with this poem:

Here comes the Demon
His eyes are clear
But yours are red

Here comes the Demon
He knows no fear
And slinks into your head

Here comes the Demon
He laughs at beer
And makes the living dead

Here is the Demon
The end is near
Nothing else can be said