I’m headed off to India in less than a month for TechHR16.
I’m super excited to attend. It’s wonderful to meet HR leaders and recruiters from around the world. And, based on my networking schedule alone, I will be jetlagged and hoarse when I’m done with the event.
Kind of cool. Then I’m off to see the Taj Mahal.
But traveling to India is no joke. I am not on top of my vaccinations, so I contacted Passport Health and arranged an overview. I expected to get a few shots and be sent on my way. Instead, they gave me a comprehensive briefing and talked to me about traveling alone as a woman.
It was awesome and insane.
Other than misspelling my name on my report, we went through all the different ways that I might die. The scenarios include Malaria, Dengue fever, Japanese encephalitis, and murder. I learned that Delhi has one of the highest rates of violence against women around the world.
I also found out that I’m at risk of all different kinds of hepatitis, both at home and abroad, along with typhoid. And, by the way, 50% of American tourists get travelers diarrhea when in India. So I was given a lesson on what to eat, what to drink, and what to avoid.
Side note: I was told to avoid dogs and monkeys in India since I’m skipping the rabies vaccination. I’m a dog magnet, so this will be interesting.
When I told my nurse that I went to Havana without any problems — dogs or otherwise — she gave me a look that was similar to the “surprised emoji face.” Apparently, I’m a woman who likes to take risks.
There are different ways to die all over the world. In America, it’s gun violence. In London, it’s the food. (Just kidding. It’s football hooliganism.) The best thing I can do is arm myself with information and play it safe.
So I had a ton of vaccinations, invested in badass mosquito repellent, signed up for Global Rescue insurance, scheduled another hepatitis combo shot before I leave, and filled a prescription for 100 mg of doxycycline for 37 days to ward off malaria. I’m also carrying Cipro because, you know, nothing kills diarrhea like a full-scale assault of antibiotics on your gut.
And, here’s another piece of info, you just can’t fly to India like it’s no big thing. You have to get a visa. In my case, I had to get a business visa, which was no easy feat since I’m a writer and that process takes bazillions of years. So we changed my status to “consultant,” which is true but sorta breaks my heart. The visa went through without a hitch.
India won’t kill me, but HR might.
Nevertheless, I’m excited to go!