Cast Iron or Tin Foil?

So it turns out I'm not so bulletproof as I thought.

After a scant two and a half weeks in Saigon I'd already grown cocky about the place. I crossed the street (usually) without fear and I cheerfully dined at street vendors as if I hadn't a care in the world.

Foolishness! Yesterday I was so ill i could barely stand up. It was the whole lot: diarrhea, vomiting, fever, weakness, dehydration. I managed to nurse myself back to health with some antibiotics and Revive (a curious mix between 7-up and Gatorade, made by Pepsico) but man, I can't remember the last time I felt so physically debilitated. Ho Chi Minh's revenge, I guess.

The culprit was probably some undercooked meat; I don't drink the water and I've been tossing the fresh herbs into my pho since the day i got here, so that's the most likely candidate. I suppose i got of easy; some people in my TEFL program were laid low for days at a time.