Today I listened to the BBC. And it was like a breath of fresh air.
It's good to know that the world, the one I know, is still out there somewhere. If you go far enough, you can reach it. If I walked far enough, I'd see your face. What a lovely thought. And also, what's a lovely thought is this: that we all look at the same moon. The same Autumnal Equinox, and that same lonely planet up in the sky. I like that thought. The sky connects us all.
In order to keep from thinking about home, I'm forcing myself to study every day. I've learned the line of Roman emperors from Augustus to Commodus (27 BC- 192 AD), and i've been downloading truck loads of music. And not blogging. I really suck at blogging. Oh, and I have also been studying India-the states, the national language. There's a huge population of Indians here, so i thought it was only fitting.
Malawi has been hot as of late. So hot, that I've given up being "conservative" and gone out in a tank top. I apologize. But my goodness, it's not my fault that Blantyre is a mass of hills, and hot stinky weather. We get stared at regardless if we wear burqas or bathing suits, so whats the difference. Maybe I
m just not a very good missionary.
Anyway, that's all I am going to write, for maybe a few weeks or so. It's getting dark outside, and I'm hungry. Ciao.
Monday, September 27, 2010
a rough sketch
Africa is going really well. After the initial swells of homesickness, third-world shock, and lots of prayer, I think I'm finally settling into Malawi. I like it here, though it's a lot more westernized than I would have expected. (Malawi was a British protectorate, and they still hold onto the old British ways-tea time, round abouts, dressing nicely, saying "fish and chips", speaking proper English, etc. I've apparently found myself in a poorer, younger, African-version of Britain). The city itself is quite luxurious, by African standards, having many internet cafes, restaurants, hospitals, banks, etc. You can find anything you need, for a very, very low price.
I don't know how self-sustainable the country is. Probably not very much. The people don't seem to wish for change to happen in Africa. (Side note: almost every African I've met has never heard of Invisible Children. That's so wild for me to comprehend!). They're all very laid back, and practice a get-it-done-when-I-feel-like-it sort of style. A lot of the internal work that goes on here is done by foreign NGO's, mostly from America and Europe. I've met Germans, Italians, English, Americans, Scottish, students from Harvard, etc all working on constructing and/or working at orphanages, digging wells, doing evangelism, lecturing on AIDS.. It's a very international environment-which is cool. We all have common ground, and it's a source of support. I've especially made friends with the people working with ADRA and Maranatha. It's sweet to see our church at work over here.
The Blantyre Adventist hospital is one of the nicest in the country. It's also one of the most expensive. But it's clean and has quality doctors and nurses all the way from Brazil to the Philippines.
And I teach their kids. The doctor's kids, I mean. My students are mostly missionary kids, ex-pats, and a few locals. They range from 6 to 16, and represent a combination of countries, including: Zimbabwe, Malawi, Egypt, Mexico, Philippines, and Brazil. They're quite a diverse group, and also a very exhaustive one. I love them, but I have to say that I'm learning the virtue of patience over here.
I've met a lot of strange people over here, and have made many interesting memories. I have found that things are a lot alike anywhere that you go. In a way, I don't mind being away at all. But, I have to say, I'm also very eager to get back to school and be the student again.
For now, however, things are good. God is teaching me a LOT about myself and also about life. It's nice :)
I don't know how self-sustainable the country is. Probably not very much. The people don't seem to wish for change to happen in Africa. (Side note: almost every African I've met has never heard of Invisible Children. That's so wild for me to comprehend!). They're all very laid back, and practice a get-it-done-when-I-feel-like-it sort of style. A lot of the internal work that goes on here is done by foreign NGO's, mostly from America and Europe. I've met Germans, Italians, English, Americans, Scottish, students from Harvard, etc all working on constructing and/or working at orphanages, digging wells, doing evangelism, lecturing on AIDS.. It's a very international environment-which is cool. We all have common ground, and it's a source of support. I've especially made friends with the people working with ADRA and Maranatha. It's sweet to see our church at work over here.
The Blantyre Adventist hospital is one of the nicest in the country. It's also one of the most expensive. But it's clean and has quality doctors and nurses all the way from Brazil to the Philippines.
And I teach their kids. The doctor's kids, I mean. My students are mostly missionary kids, ex-pats, and a few locals. They range from 6 to 16, and represent a combination of countries, including: Zimbabwe, Malawi, Egypt, Mexico, Philippines, and Brazil. They're quite a diverse group, and also a very exhaustive one. I love them, but I have to say that I'm learning the virtue of patience over here.
I've met a lot of strange people over here, and have made many interesting memories. I have found that things are a lot alike anywhere that you go. In a way, I don't mind being away at all. But, I have to say, I'm also very eager to get back to school and be the student again.
For now, however, things are good. God is teaching me a LOT about myself and also about life. It's nice :)
a thought
Life is art, completely and irrevocably. Life is our canvas, and our actions are our art. What shall we do with it? We have the capacity of living beautifully. Shall we do it? Do we dare?
I intend to, with the greatness of love and humility, ignorance and bliss, being both routed and lost, decided and indifferent, cautious and liberal, both collecting and distributing, generating, recycling, circulating kindness, knowledge and the art of an individual life, like currency, for the uniqueness of another on their decidedly distinct path. And we shall trade my stories for yours, your experiences for mine, and we shall grow each other, give to receive, give to build, give to shape and create and furnish. Give to encourage, educate, enlighten. Give for love and joy at being alive and free. And receive bountifully in your own eye, the peculiarities of a fellow nomad on this spherical realm. For we are nomads, all of us, and we meant to learn from one another, all the things which are meant to be gotten out of this life. from others, we see places unimagined, experience events once exclusive and now open. All experiences in life are meant to be shared with others, to feed and fuel the race and stimulate growth in the interweaving tapestry of life. And it is beautiful, I say!
The tapestry of life, the interconnectedness of people, place, time, circumstance is both too amazing to behold, and too beautiful to be ignored. We are each other’s burden, belonging to one another, and God is the master weaver, who brings together all things for good. The tapestry of life is gorgeous, despite dark and seemingly messy places. Step back, however, and see how it corresponds astoundingly. You come to realize that all of life is just as one breath; matching and interacting with each facet we humans have structured as something different from the other. But nothing is different, everything is the same, only the representation is slightly altered. Art is the same as math and physics. History is the same as psychology, as religion is philosophy, and that leads back to art, which leads to math, and stars, and photosynthesis, and libraries, and people, and food, and personalities, and culture. It is all the same, except in the symbol and size of it! That is, you study one thing, and you study them all. It is merely up to you to decide which form and measure. All life is the same, yet the differences are displayed by a conglomeration of colors and images. Our senses inform us of the uniqueness and fascinating distinctions in this world.
And it is the free-minded that find it, I dare say. It is the ones breaking the mold of the sociological mores who discover how life holds hands with itself. It is the ones who dare take a leap of difference, for the sake of life itself, and they who behold the grandeur of the unimaginable presentation. Who stumble upon the truth of it while they are lying asleep on the shore of a beach in some far off land. It is those plagued by wanderlust and adventure who stumble upon the mysteries of life. And God bless them! For life is one, and we are meant to find it, through love and breath and courage.
Life is meant to be lived by these simple rules: have faith, have love, have courage, have imagination, and have a good humor. That is all, and that’s the glorious end and beginning.
And may the Lord bless thee and keep thee, may he make his face to shine upon thee and be gracious to thee, and may he lift up his countenance upon thee and give thee peace. And that is yet mathematics, art, philosophy, physics, psychology and the sunrise and sunset of this beautiful world.
I intend to, with the greatness of love and humility, ignorance and bliss, being both routed and lost, decided and indifferent, cautious and liberal, both collecting and distributing, generating, recycling, circulating kindness, knowledge and the art of an individual life, like currency, for the uniqueness of another on their decidedly distinct path. And we shall trade my stories for yours, your experiences for mine, and we shall grow each other, give to receive, give to build, give to shape and create and furnish. Give to encourage, educate, enlighten. Give for love and joy at being alive and free. And receive bountifully in your own eye, the peculiarities of a fellow nomad on this spherical realm. For we are nomads, all of us, and we meant to learn from one another, all the things which are meant to be gotten out of this life. from others, we see places unimagined, experience events once exclusive and now open. All experiences in life are meant to be shared with others, to feed and fuel the race and stimulate growth in the interweaving tapestry of life. And it is beautiful, I say!
The tapestry of life, the interconnectedness of people, place, time, circumstance is both too amazing to behold, and too beautiful to be ignored. We are each other’s burden, belonging to one another, and God is the master weaver, who brings together all things for good. The tapestry of life is gorgeous, despite dark and seemingly messy places. Step back, however, and see how it corresponds astoundingly. You come to realize that all of life is just as one breath; matching and interacting with each facet we humans have structured as something different from the other. But nothing is different, everything is the same, only the representation is slightly altered. Art is the same as math and physics. History is the same as psychology, as religion is philosophy, and that leads back to art, which leads to math, and stars, and photosynthesis, and libraries, and people, and food, and personalities, and culture. It is all the same, except in the symbol and size of it! That is, you study one thing, and you study them all. It is merely up to you to decide which form and measure. All life is the same, yet the differences are displayed by a conglomeration of colors and images. Our senses inform us of the uniqueness and fascinating distinctions in this world.
And it is the free-minded that find it, I dare say. It is the ones breaking the mold of the sociological mores who discover how life holds hands with itself. It is the ones who dare take a leap of difference, for the sake of life itself, and they who behold the grandeur of the unimaginable presentation. Who stumble upon the truth of it while they are lying asleep on the shore of a beach in some far off land. It is those plagued by wanderlust and adventure who stumble upon the mysteries of life. And God bless them! For life is one, and we are meant to find it, through love and breath and courage.
Life is meant to be lived by these simple rules: have faith, have love, have courage, have imagination, and have a good humor. That is all, and that’s the glorious end and beginning.
And may the Lord bless thee and keep thee, may he make his face to shine upon thee and be gracious to thee, and may he lift up his countenance upon thee and give thee peace. And that is yet mathematics, art, philosophy, physics, psychology and the sunrise and sunset of this beautiful world.
#3
Last night was the best in Malawi so far. You know, little computer, how lonesome I have been all week here, and how much I would cry at being so alone and sad and anxious. I would wait all day just for evening where I could finally go use the internet and then talk to my mother on the phone. Each phone conversation would fuel my strength for the next 24 hours of no communication, like a breath of clean air before sinking again in a stony mud hole.
But, last night, the light broke through the darkness at long last! This little buoy of life that I have been clinging to in this sea of loneliness has brought me to light, in view that a great ship of joy and company has arrived just at my exhausted self.
I went over to the Wood’s home at 6, and there met an array of interesting people. Dave and Sue woods, themselves, are Americans, so in that I found some comfort. They have two daughters, Janelle, 15, and Marquelle, 11. A small family called the Le Portes, who have just arrived to Malawi yesterday from Mozambique, were also there when I arrived. We later discovered that they are related to the Greenlaw’s by marriage! Isn’t that wild? They are Austin’s step-mother’s family, the grandparents and uncle of Austin’s half-sisters: Eden, Teagan, and Kyla! How bizarre! Somehow, for years, I have been loosely connected to these people, and now, here we are in Africa, meeting. I’m sure his head will spin when he hears this! I mean, imagine finding a connection like that over here on the other side of the world. Anyway, it was a heart-warming thing.
On the spot, when I arrived, I helped with dinner. It eases the mind and the faculties knowing that you are somehow aiding your host, in return for their kindnesses. In time, a group of young people arrived, to my great joy. Most of them work for Maranatha, under the direction of Mr. Woods. I met Krystle first, an Australian girl who works with ADRA here. After her, I met Adam, Moka, Shokina, Brundy (the Le Portes’ son), and then Yann (I don’t think one spell’s the name like that, but that’s how I visualized it-like Yann Tiersen). Yann is South African, and Moka is from India, and Shokina is Indian but a native to Malawi, and Adam looks British, but his parents live in California. So many people! And so lively!
We spent the evening worshiping, telling stories, getting to know one another, eating, and fellowshipping. Again, it was the best night in Malawi thus far. Now I can see a little glimmer in Malawi life that may blossom into something great and beautiful. We shall need to see as time passes. But, today is my first day of church in Malawi, and Krystle is to pick me up at 10.
But, last night, the light broke through the darkness at long last! This little buoy of life that I have been clinging to in this sea of loneliness has brought me to light, in view that a great ship of joy and company has arrived just at my exhausted self.
I went over to the Wood’s home at 6, and there met an array of interesting people. Dave and Sue woods, themselves, are Americans, so in that I found some comfort. They have two daughters, Janelle, 15, and Marquelle, 11. A small family called the Le Portes, who have just arrived to Malawi yesterday from Mozambique, were also there when I arrived. We later discovered that they are related to the Greenlaw’s by marriage! Isn’t that wild? They are Austin’s step-mother’s family, the grandparents and uncle of Austin’s half-sisters: Eden, Teagan, and Kyla! How bizarre! Somehow, for years, I have been loosely connected to these people, and now, here we are in Africa, meeting. I’m sure his head will spin when he hears this! I mean, imagine finding a connection like that over here on the other side of the world. Anyway, it was a heart-warming thing.
On the spot, when I arrived, I helped with dinner. It eases the mind and the faculties knowing that you are somehow aiding your host, in return for their kindnesses. In time, a group of young people arrived, to my great joy. Most of them work for Maranatha, under the direction of Mr. Woods. I met Krystle first, an Australian girl who works with ADRA here. After her, I met Adam, Moka, Shokina, Brundy (the Le Portes’ son), and then Yann (I don’t think one spell’s the name like that, but that’s how I visualized it-like Yann Tiersen). Yann is South African, and Moka is from India, and Shokina is Indian but a native to Malawi, and Adam looks British, but his parents live in California. So many people! And so lively!
We spent the evening worshiping, telling stories, getting to know one another, eating, and fellowshipping. Again, it was the best night in Malawi thus far. Now I can see a little glimmer in Malawi life that may blossom into something great and beautiful. We shall need to see as time passes. But, today is my first day of church in Malawi, and Krystle is to pick me up at 10.
#2
August 4?, 2010
So I am here, on this horn-tipped continent, in the South Eastern section of it, quiet alone, and not a little bit afraid. I have twice walked into town, and both times experienced different, overwhelming sensations. The first was blind fear. The second was a mix of sickly sluggishness and headstrong indifference. My whole day is compiled of doing little things to get me through until 3:30, when I can go to the hospital to use the internet. All day, I have wasted time, filling up the slow seconds with even slower activity, aching for the evening to finally arrive. These days are slow, very slow. All I want is evening, so that I can do my business and talk with my mother via the phone. Her voice is medicine to my quivering soul-it is all I need to get me through this time of sadness. I pray that Cassie comes soon. My depression is evolving into sheer boredom. What can I do? With no appetite, no entertainment save my own mind and this computer, and no schedule to adhere to, what else is left? Today I walked into town, watched Ethel and Shadrac clean my floor, get my phone and number from Elisha, made lunch, read my book, and prayed for evening to be here. My sickness was more intriguing than these slow days. And it’s only Tuesday! It’s only been two days since I arrived here! How can that be? It’s felt like two months. I stopped caring about my appearance this morning, and I stopped being interested in fitting into African society. I’m American, nearly 20 years old, and am hired as the teacher for the missionary children this year. Blantyre is my home for the next 10 months, and, no offense, but I cannot help but wish it along. I crave my mother’s embrace, my home and my things, my school and my friends, my comforts and my familiar foods and places. The warmth is even lacking here. But I suppose this is what every missionary goes through, and it would be unnatural if I didn’t feel homesick and lonely in these first few weeks. I know that as time passes, especially these first three weeks, that I will begin to be accustomed to everything. I know that by the end of this journey, I will be a bigger person.
I think it is less scary to think of coming here as something to just put on my resume. But when you’re coming here because you truly believe God told you to come here, and you’re relying on that say-so, things get murky, and scary. All of a sudden, you aren’t in control, and you’re relying on something so much bigger than yourself. Things are up in the air. You know that by the end of the road, you will be transformed. But it is easier to think that you will just be a better person for it all. So what will it be? Will I be transformed, or will I merely be a well-rounded, well-traveled, well-cultured, and confident person? or is that what being transformed means? How low do I have to go in order to be changed? Can I still be me, with my things and my comforts, or do I need to give up all of those things and find repose in other more puritanical measures? Can I still have my music, my paints, my books, my clothes and still be changed? Or do my personal comforts hinder any changes possible? I think they do not. Regardless of whether I have my things here with me or not, I will still be teaching this year. I will still have to grade papers, teach English, manage bratty kids, buy my own food, arrange travel plans, etc, whether I am given my own comforts or not. In fact, I could be doing the exact same job in Connecticut, and still be changed by the end of it. However, I happen to have been placed in the middle of Africa, with no friends, and a whole lot of fear on my side. I wish I wasn’t so afraid. I think I will be less afraid when Cass gets here. Then I will have a friend and confidant. Happiness is completely circumstantial, I’m afraid.
So I am here, on this horn-tipped continent, in the South Eastern section of it, quiet alone, and not a little bit afraid. I have twice walked into town, and both times experienced different, overwhelming sensations. The first was blind fear. The second was a mix of sickly sluggishness and headstrong indifference. My whole day is compiled of doing little things to get me through until 3:30, when I can go to the hospital to use the internet. All day, I have wasted time, filling up the slow seconds with even slower activity, aching for the evening to finally arrive. These days are slow, very slow. All I want is evening, so that I can do my business and talk with my mother via the phone. Her voice is medicine to my quivering soul-it is all I need to get me through this time of sadness. I pray that Cassie comes soon. My depression is evolving into sheer boredom. What can I do? With no appetite, no entertainment save my own mind and this computer, and no schedule to adhere to, what else is left? Today I walked into town, watched Ethel and Shadrac clean my floor, get my phone and number from Elisha, made lunch, read my book, and prayed for evening to be here. My sickness was more intriguing than these slow days. And it’s only Tuesday! It’s only been two days since I arrived here! How can that be? It’s felt like two months. I stopped caring about my appearance this morning, and I stopped being interested in fitting into African society. I’m American, nearly 20 years old, and am hired as the teacher for the missionary children this year. Blantyre is my home for the next 10 months, and, no offense, but I cannot help but wish it along. I crave my mother’s embrace, my home and my things, my school and my friends, my comforts and my familiar foods and places. The warmth is even lacking here. But I suppose this is what every missionary goes through, and it would be unnatural if I didn’t feel homesick and lonely in these first few weeks. I know that as time passes, especially these first three weeks, that I will begin to be accustomed to everything. I know that by the end of this journey, I will be a bigger person.
I think it is less scary to think of coming here as something to just put on my resume. But when you’re coming here because you truly believe God told you to come here, and you’re relying on that say-so, things get murky, and scary. All of a sudden, you aren’t in control, and you’re relying on something so much bigger than yourself. Things are up in the air. You know that by the end of the road, you will be transformed. But it is easier to think that you will just be a better person for it all. So what will it be? Will I be transformed, or will I merely be a well-rounded, well-traveled, well-cultured, and confident person? or is that what being transformed means? How low do I have to go in order to be changed? Can I still be me, with my things and my comforts, or do I need to give up all of those things and find repose in other more puritanical measures? Can I still have my music, my paints, my books, my clothes and still be changed? Or do my personal comforts hinder any changes possible? I think they do not. Regardless of whether I have my things here with me or not, I will still be teaching this year. I will still have to grade papers, teach English, manage bratty kids, buy my own food, arrange travel plans, etc, whether I am given my own comforts or not. In fact, I could be doing the exact same job in Connecticut, and still be changed by the end of it. However, I happen to have been placed in the middle of Africa, with no friends, and a whole lot of fear on my side. I wish I wasn’t so afraid. I think I will be less afraid when Cass gets here. Then I will have a friend and confidant. Happiness is completely circumstantial, I’m afraid.
this blog may get erased. but first, a few more just to show.
August 2-3, 2010
Last got I had my first experience with food poisoning. It was the most awful thing. After I spoke with Mom online, I was feeling ill, so I came and laid down in my bed. Soon enough, I started to feel extraordinarily nauseous. After laying down in bed for a while, I went to the bathroom and vomited a few times. It was that gross pizza-I don’t think I can ever look at pizza in the same way. After I vomited, I felt a tinge better, and so I took out my contacts, turned out the light, and fell into bed. The problem was that I didn’t have any bottled water left, and I didn’t want to drink the tap. I think I would have vomited again had I done that-just because of the taste and I don’t know if I boiled it good enough. Anyway, I fell asleep very quickly, and for an hour, I was nauseous. At around 7 pm, I got up again, thinking I needed to vomit again. Instead, it was the other end, and I sat down on the toilet. The oddest thing happened then-I became very weak, and I started to lose my hearing. Bizarre! At the time, I had no idea why I couldn’t hear at the present, but I was too weak to care. I went to the bathroom, and while that was happening, I broke out in a cold sweat, but became very, very hot. I peeled off my windbreaker. As soon as I was finished, I think I must have flushed, and then gone to the sink, but my body was swinging wildly around. Before I knew what was happening, my body collapsed under me, and I think I fainted. I’m not sure, but I laid on the tile for probably 4 or 5 minutes, only thinking about how cold and good it felt, since I was sweating madly. And then, as soon as the heat flash had come, I broke out again in shivers, and opened my eyes. Before my eyes, I saw that when I fainted/fell, I pulled the sink with me, and it was dangling upside down. That’s when I knew things were seriously not good. I had only wanted to get back into bed, but now I knew I had to go to the Guarino’s. So, I left my house and rang their door bell, and told them everything that happened. More than anything, I just wanted some water, but NOT from the tap. I don’t care if it’s clean, I am not drinking it. They gave me Pepto-Bismal, and Dr. Guarino went out and got me two bottles of water. Ann had me stay in Bianca’s room, so that she could observe me, and make sure I was okay.
I think I woke up three or four times during the night, and drank some water-slowly at first, and then more rapidly as the night wore on. That really helped. So, I just woke up and I’m not nauseous anymore, just very tired, and a little dizzy still. Dr. Guarino said that I got food poisoning from the left over pizza-that explains the dizziness, vomiting, and head ache. At least it’s not malaria. They thought I might have got it since I have so many mosquito bites on my legs. But fortunately enough, malaria begins with a headache and fever. I didn’t get either of those symptoms until after I vomited. So, I’m eating a little now, and then I think I will rest more. My bathroom floor is flooded with water leakage. I feel bad for that.
But I am so thankful that it is over, and I praying that it doesn’t come back soon-rather, ever again. I hope that chapter of my life is finished.
I am so anxious to talk to mom tonight. I am getting my phone unlocked, so we can talk around 4 pm. I can’t wait! It’s the highlight of my day, and of my week. And mom is sending out a box for me, and she’s shipping it overnight, so I should get it either this week or next week. Haha, only in Africa does “overnight” mean about 4-8 days.
Okay, I am going now. Good bye.
Last got I had my first experience with food poisoning. It was the most awful thing. After I spoke with Mom online, I was feeling ill, so I came and laid down in my bed. Soon enough, I started to feel extraordinarily nauseous. After laying down in bed for a while, I went to the bathroom and vomited a few times. It was that gross pizza-I don’t think I can ever look at pizza in the same way. After I vomited, I felt a tinge better, and so I took out my contacts, turned out the light, and fell into bed. The problem was that I didn’t have any bottled water left, and I didn’t want to drink the tap. I think I would have vomited again had I done that-just because of the taste and I don’t know if I boiled it good enough. Anyway, I fell asleep very quickly, and for an hour, I was nauseous. At around 7 pm, I got up again, thinking I needed to vomit again. Instead, it was the other end, and I sat down on the toilet. The oddest thing happened then-I became very weak, and I started to lose my hearing. Bizarre! At the time, I had no idea why I couldn’t hear at the present, but I was too weak to care. I went to the bathroom, and while that was happening, I broke out in a cold sweat, but became very, very hot. I peeled off my windbreaker. As soon as I was finished, I think I must have flushed, and then gone to the sink, but my body was swinging wildly around. Before I knew what was happening, my body collapsed under me, and I think I fainted. I’m not sure, but I laid on the tile for probably 4 or 5 minutes, only thinking about how cold and good it felt, since I was sweating madly. And then, as soon as the heat flash had come, I broke out again in shivers, and opened my eyes. Before my eyes, I saw that when I fainted/fell, I pulled the sink with me, and it was dangling upside down. That’s when I knew things were seriously not good. I had only wanted to get back into bed, but now I knew I had to go to the Guarino’s. So, I left my house and rang their door bell, and told them everything that happened. More than anything, I just wanted some water, but NOT from the tap. I don’t care if it’s clean, I am not drinking it. They gave me Pepto-Bismal, and Dr. Guarino went out and got me two bottles of water. Ann had me stay in Bianca’s room, so that she could observe me, and make sure I was okay.
I think I woke up three or four times during the night, and drank some water-slowly at first, and then more rapidly as the night wore on. That really helped. So, I just woke up and I’m not nauseous anymore, just very tired, and a little dizzy still. Dr. Guarino said that I got food poisoning from the left over pizza-that explains the dizziness, vomiting, and head ache. At least it’s not malaria. They thought I might have got it since I have so many mosquito bites on my legs. But fortunately enough, malaria begins with a headache and fever. I didn’t get either of those symptoms until after I vomited. So, I’m eating a little now, and then I think I will rest more. My bathroom floor is flooded with water leakage. I feel bad for that.
But I am so thankful that it is over, and I praying that it doesn’t come back soon-rather, ever again. I hope that chapter of my life is finished.
I am so anxious to talk to mom tonight. I am getting my phone unlocked, so we can talk around 4 pm. I can’t wait! It’s the highlight of my day, and of my week. And mom is sending out a box for me, and she’s shipping it overnight, so I should get it either this week or next week. Haha, only in Africa does “overnight” mean about 4-8 days.
Okay, I am going now. Good bye.
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