Something in the Air

The weather is very changeable in the mountains around Rabinal, Guatemala. Sunny afternoons could hide thunderstorms like a magician hides rabbits. Then pull them out of unusual places to surprise and stun the unsuspecting public. I spent four months in Rabinal and inevitably, from time to time, my gringo body protested against the foreign conditions. Whenever this happened, the locals had an explanation. I had caught too much air. Too much air could produce any mulititude of symptoms. Too tired? Too much air. Can't sleep? Too much air. Sick to your stomach? Too much air. Not hungry? Too much air. We used to roll our eyes and joke that hangovers were also the result of too much 'air.'

But they knew something I didn't, something I wouldn't understand until I started golfing in Wellington. Too much air can make you sick. Today I came in from the 18th hole feeling awful. My ears felt like they had been boxed by a monkey on crack, waves of pain were crashing against the left side of my skull and I was queasy. I had caught too much air.

But after a nap, a hot shower and a burger all I remember is my hat poetically blowing off, that satisfying drive off the 14th tee and those lucky putts.

(The picture is a dust storm in Mongolia. It was pretty windy there too!)