Let me tell you about my night.
I just spent fifteen minutes making myself vomit until there was nothing left to do but gag.
Well, because I just drank a sip, a very very small sip, of a tasty rice wine beverage. All the locals were drinking it. Which means it is fine, right?
I’m not sure.
After trying a very very small sip, my hypochondriac self decided to google “Lombok rice wine”. To my insane surprise the first sentence I read about this traditional fermented beverage, also called “Arack” was, “Illness and even death have been attributed to drinking arak”.
Oh. That is perfect. I’m super excited to die alone in a moist hostel room on the tiny island of Lombok in Indonesia.
I’m fairly certain I went white in the face as I did a little more research.
I read a little more about this drink and its potential to put me on my death-bed in the near future.
I was starting to feel a little less terrified as I read that most places in Indonesia weren’t having problems with this methanol poisoning that was happening during small village Arack production, until I read the line “the exception is Lombok where problems are still occurring”.
I almost passed out and anxiously excused myself from the very fun and happy sing-a-long guitar circle, and walked to my room, where I proceeded to make myself vomit, and then eat a bunch of snacks and vomit again, until I was so tired I fell asleep.
And now here I am. It is the next morning and I haven’t kicked the bucket yet. I believe I will be just fine.
But being a hypochondriac is real. And google will convince you death is coming, no matter what country you live in.
The quote I read on one of the Lombok Arack forums last night that eventually allowed me the peace of mind to fall asleep was, “people have died from drinking milk”.
In all seriousness, be careful out there, never ignore your dad’s voice in the back of your head, “Always think Micaylee, always think”, and stay away from bad milk.