Let me take you back several years. I was in France, had just read a book about French culture. It said that it was incredibly rude to leave anything at all on your plate when eating in France. Out with friends from my choir, we are served veal with a fair amount of gristle and fat. I’ve read the book-I’m going to be polite and leave nothing on my plate. So I put my head down and chewed away on the fat and gristle with determination. I didn’t look up until I had finished it all. Everyone else had left their gristle and other unedible bits on their plates. Duh.
A few hours later, I was back in my apartment, feeling miserable. My head was pounding, I wanted to throw up but couldn’t, and I was really hot. Sitting in my bathroom I told God that if life in Africa was like this, being hot, sick, and alone, I wasn’t going to be able to take it.
Yep, I’m sick. It’s bronchitis and a high fever. But, my malaria test came back negative, that’s good. I’m missing three days of meetings, but that means I’m surrounded by my colleagues and friends who are taking very nice care of me. Today I’m feeling better, that’s why I could get out of bed and blog a little.
So, my adventure here has met up to two of my expectations-I’m hot, and I’m sick. But, I’m not alone.