I just got over my first illness in Africa, which is the sickest I’ve been since April 2003. On Monday, I went to the morning session of the conference, skipped the afternoon half, and then attended all of Tuesday. On Tuesday night, I started feeling chilly. But I was also really warm. And things just went downhill from there.
Now, 10 liters of water and about 20 Ibuprofen later, I think I’m mostly back to normal. Minus a really ugly cough, but I get one of those every year. And urgent trips to the bathroom, but that too, will pass. Needless to say, I missed most of the conference.
Before I became immobile for three days (except I wasn’t, and I nearly passed out twice after going into town to get food, bad idea), I visited Cinkasse, the northern most town in Togo. Nothing too exciting there, except Helen screaming at the 15 moto and taxi drivers who mobbed us when we arrived.
On Friday (last Friday, yesterday I didn’t leave the maison), I rode to another volunteer’s village and helped out with a day camp. We played HIV/AIDS education games. I’m looking forward to [hopefully] working at the schools in my area, but the beginning of school has been delayed by a month because there are elections in October. So... I guess I’ll have to wait.
This evening we’re having a COS (close of service) party for a volunteer who’s leaving in about a week. Then I’m going back to village. Unless my fever comes back. Nothing makes you want your mom like being sick in Africa. Except all the news I’m getting from my mom is about fabulous travels, which is not what one wants to hear when she’s sick in Africa (but write me about your travels anyway, I like updates).
Now I’m going to disappear for an indefinite amount of time again.