I’ve
been out of commission for the past couple of days. Some sort of stomach bug-
that’s my best guess. Being sick in Moz absolutely, 100% sucks. Even when it’s
some minor ailment, the conditions here just amplify things, making the condition
more debilitating than it needs to be. I
woke up in the middle of the night early Sunday feeling nauseous. I’ll spare
you the details, lets just say I spent much of the night near my xi-xi bucket
(normally used for after-hour peeing).
Normally, one would dump (or flush) the contents of their puke bucket immediately
but since I, like most PCVs, keep my door locked from 8pm-6am for safety
reasons, this simple task was impossible. Instead, I got to deal with it first
thing after crawling out of bed at 6. Afterward, I immediately retreated to my
locally-made bed (a wooden frame tied with rope made of dried palms) in an
attempt to read.
A really special (read:
annoying) thing about Monapo and most of the districts in Nampula province is
losing electricity on Sundays. It usually disappears around 6 am and returns
around 4 or 5 in the afternoon. I should be grateful that I even have
electricity as there are some PCVs here in Moz that don’t. But it’s especially hard
to deal with going without when you are so accustomed to having it. It’s a pain
in the ass. Everything in my mini-fridge gets all funky and I usually have no
phone battery, unless I remember to charge it the night before. But this day was
particularly annoying because I didn’t have my fan. Even though summer is not
officially here yet, it sure feels like it. It is HOT. On a normal Sunday
without electricity, I would have prepared food the day before or I’d run to
the market for ready-to-eat items like bread, tuna, or hard-boiled eggs. But
since I wasn’t going to be going anywhere that day (except for the latrine) I
called my sitemates and asked that they pick me up some Sprite and bread. Thank
goodness for sitemates! I was going to make toast but then remembered, oh yeah
the energy is out…The electricity finally came back on around 8:30. I had gotten
into bed around 6 and was reading with my head lamp since all of my candles had
burned down to the quick and I didn’t have any replacements. I was so ecstatic
to have my fan back!
Monday morning I called my
coordinator to let him know I wasn’t coming into work. His response didn’t
surprise me, “My daughter, you have malaria.” When us American folk get sick,
even if its for a day, we are accused of having malaria then lectured on how
serious the situation is. I love that my co-workers care so much about me but
no matter how many times I tell them “it’s NOT malaria,” they just don’t
listen. So I did what I’ve done so many times since my arrival in Monapo. I
took a malaria rapid test to prove them wrong. And even when I tell them that
the result was negative, they still don’t believe me. “You should go to the
health center; you can’t trust those rapid tests that Peace Corps gives you.” I
try to placate them by adding that I’ll go to the health center if my condition
gets any worse because in my mind I know it is not malaria. It’s so unfortunate
that the symptoms are something PCVs have to deal with on a regular basis-
vomiting, diarrhea, fever, muscle aches, fatigue. I would be worried more often
if I didn’t take my prophylaxis medication weekly. Yet, to my colleagues, I am “playing
badly with my health.”
This reminded me of a situation
that happened earlier in the week. Where, after explaining my situation, I was
told I was wrong and given a different list of instructions to follow. I went
to EDM (the electric company of Mozambique) earlier in the week to request the
help of a technician. My ‘warning’ light on my energy box was flashing red and
every hour on the hour it would beep incredibly loudly for 1 minute. I think
even a third grader would recognize this as a problem. Yet, when I explained
all of this to an EDM employee he assured me that this is just how the box
works. At first I thought he was joking. Loud beeping every hour in the middle
of the night?! I don’t think so. After 5 minutes, he still wasn’t budging. But
I was determined not to leave EDM without getting a technician to come over and
check out the problem. Luckily, a technician who had been to my house 2
previous times arrived and agreed to come check things out. Upon inspection of
the box he was clueless. He shrugged his shoulders, a sign telling me there was
nothing he could do. I was about to rip my hair out in frustration when an idea
hit me: maybe the credit is low. And sure enough, after I registered my
newly-bought electricity credit, the beeping and red light stopped. If I wasn’t
prohibited from augmenting my Peace Corps stipend, I’d apply for a job.
