August 15, 2009
Big mistake yesterday, the 14th. I decided I was pretty much better having been released yesterday, was feeling bored, and decided to go to the Colline to sit next to the pool and stay cool. I took a boda to the hotel and knew I was in trouble almost as soon as I arrived. I suddenly felt violently sick again, was drenched in sweat, and my legs would barely support me. I got to the hotel and ordered a coffee, hoping I would feel better. Within minutes I was so dizzy and weak and wet that I couldn’t hold the cup. I went to the ladies changing room and splashed my face with water from the sink, and that is all she wrote. I then laid on the concrete floor trying to cool down. After resting for a few minutes I headed back to my outdoor table but couldn’t make it all the way—thought I would pass out. I sat down and leaned on an outside wall. There was no way I could walk back to the hotel’s security check point and beyond to the bodas. The hotel called a boda for me which took me home. (Embarrassing!) Once home, I sweat like a racehorse and slept for the next two hours. When I awoke I felt much better.
The neighbors told me what the doctor hadnt bothered to (in fact I received no follow up instructions whatsoever)…I am to stay out of the sun while I remain on the medication and for several days following. I was only in the sun for perhaps 10 minutes (the boda ride), but that was enough. The neighbor man who has self-appointed as my guardian went to town and when he returned, sent his daughter (Diana) over with a huge box of warm mango juice. It tasted and felt wonderful. That was dinner.
This morning Scovia and Alice were up early, cooking a clear soup with wild mushrooms, and rice for my breakfast. That was pretty good too, although Scovia dumped a lot of salt into it which, when I objected, insisted I needed. Now I am back to feeling sort of okay, but bored again
When Katy returned to Bushenyi, she left a wonderful book with me called In the Heart of the Canyon by Elisabeth Hyde. It is about a 12 day trip down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. It is an easy and often funny read. It has made me a bit homesick as I remember all the time that George and I spent on Lake Powell, and of my 10 day hike around the north rim of the Grand Canyon escorting my donors from The Wilderness Society. I can really identify with the river guide in this book and his travails with those for whom he is responsible. (I still recall my thoughts of throwing one of the women who complained about absolutely everything, right over a cliff.) Maybe this is the part that I find so funny, because he has one of these impossible-to-please people on his trip too. This book describes the area…the geology.. the topography…the rafting culture…the water so well!
Since I am once again hanging around the old bed and unable to fulfill my promise to her, Paul is taking Scovia to the pool to teach her to swim today. He is outside now teaching 13 year old Dianna and her 12 year old brother how to play his guitar and harmonica. Paul is a pretty amazing young man.
Momma Africa is traveling to Mukono next Thursday to meet with us and I am excited to see her again. (Having been on the wrong end of malaria personally, I am more determined than ever to find $$ to help with medical fees for our/her children. Treatment is not expensive, and the thought of one of our children dying of malaria because there isn’t $35 is more than I can contemplate.) Her daughter Primah called to say she heard from her mother that I had been sick. Katy told Esther who told Momma who told Primah…the gossip vine is as strong here as it is anywhere else--even though about 250 miles separate us.
August 17 I think
After a full day of “staying down” and drinking tons of water, my headache continued into this morning. Everything else feels fine…no aches or pains…no stomach problems…my appetite is returning...no sweats. Still, the intense headache concerned me so this morning I went to St Joseph Clinic. As it turns out, this is where Isaac and Scovia take Happiness when she is ill, but they only knew the name of the doctor. They had never known the clinic name. One cant fault them for this as the sign over the door is so small. Still, I wish they had sent me to their doc instead of Sir Albert Clinic when I was so sick.
The difference between St Joseph and Sir Albert clinics is like day and night (thank you my wonderful husand for finding this place online for me!!!). St Joe’s wins by a mile, starting with cleanliness and professionalism. The doc reviewed my discharge form (there is no indication what strain of malaria I was treated for) and noted that the Sir Albert doc had co-diagnosed possible food poisoning. He checked my skin and said I am still very dehydrated, and sent me to his lab office for another malaria test.
The test came back negative for malaria. Still, I have been sentenced to two more weeks primarily in bed. I say “primarily” because it is such a hard thing to do. But I will do my best, even though I will miss planned trips into Gulu, Gomba, a fun one to Entebbe, and the horseback safari in Jinja. Dammit. I really want to assist at the displacement camps next week. Dammit dammit.
This morning Scovia announced they were making chapatti bread and asked if I wanted to watch. What a production! Cooking is always a village-wide endeavor. First of all, one must first go to a kitchen (they are all outdoor so this is easy to see) where a woman already has charcoal burning and swipe a piece or two for yourself. Alice is the first up always and so it is her burning charcoal that all the women come for. They pull it out with their hands and run to their own stoves with it (ouch!!??)
There being no cutting boards, our women cut onions into tiny pieces using their hands as a cutting board, with a dull knife. That gets thrown into a pot with oil, water, salt and flour. All is mixed with their hands. Then Alice kneads it for 30 minutes making a mess of the concrete floor which serves as our kitchen counter. Once it is ready, she forms tiny dough balls while Scovia goes from home to home looking for a rolling pin since she doesn’t own one. They roll it out and fry it one by one by one by…on the underside of a pot lid. It takes forever. Somewhere long the way, Ronnie appeared to tell the women they were frying it wrong. The women took his comments in stride and let Ronnie cook for awhile, going back to their own methods the minute he left. The entire process took over 90 minutes, after which they loaded my plate with hot chapatti bread. I could only eat one piece and that was difficult but I didn’t want to be rude. They were disappointed, as they thought I didn’t like it. I had a hard time convincing them that I did.
That is about it. The blog may be empty for awhile again unless the internet gods allow internet at home again someday. I am to stay out of the internet café and away from crowds, according to Dr. LongAfricanName, because he fears I will pick up flu or something else. What more could possibly happen????
I lied. There is more. . . two weeks ago George paid $20 to have a dress made for Alice. She has never been the first to wear a garment in her entire life. So she how has a proper African, to the ankle dress, complete with matching head piece, brand new, just for her. She was beside herself. Now...she just rushed into my quarters excited. Her mother is here!!! She came in squeeling and giggling, telling me that her mother is here and she is going to put on her new dress. I am so happy for Alice. She has missed her family! Gotta go greet the Mom!
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