It was not a holiday for me, like I expected it to be when I arrived at Frankfurt. My ear had became swollen after being infected by some funny bacteria from Iraq.
That very night, I was admitted into a hospital bed in Salzgitter, my hometown, for it was the only place where I wanted to rest. The next day at the hospital, they asked me what kind of insurance I have and I answered that I was insured by "Sheraton International."
But naturally, the hotel company denied it, and later we were told that only the uncontactable "Sheraton Basrah" in Iraq was responsible, for I was considered their staff. What a company to work for. To think that you had actually kept the bloody name up even during the war.
The President had even sent me his personal congratulations for my position as "Sheratons Ambassador." You work your ass off, and find out immediately after you have left that your ass was only up for a shoe-kick.
I guess this is the payment of thanks we get. The American system... maybe?
Another surprise awaited me at the hospital - the doctor told my wife and my mother that they had to bring me food because the insurance will not cover it. They were unable to contact Basrah because of the ongoing war. The next shock instore for me was when they told me that there is no medicine to cure the bacteria in my ear, and that there remained only a millimeter of bone between the ear and my brain.
The doctor then told my wife to bring the money fast, otherwise she could take me home.
OK. We still have bastards in Germany and this doctor was a perfect example of it. Luckily, I am a cook and not a capitalistic animal like this private ear, nose and throat doctor serving in the government Hospital in Salzgitte on private payroll.
Anyway, my wife with drew some money from her account in Dresdner Bank and deposited it in the hospital. I told the lousy doctor that he can take the money when I am dead. The following day, a tropical hospital in Paris discovered a new antibiotic to cure the infection caused by this bacteria that I had.
After three weeks, I was fully cured and on my toes. I had a wonderful holiday in my hometown, but later, a telephone conversation with Sheraton left me a little crestfallen.
They immediately offered me a new assignment and you wont believe it. They offered me Sheraton Basrah again, they must have been joking...
better no local Recipe at this stage