Don't Tell Baba You've Got Malaria Or He'll Kill The Kuku

I’ve grown quite accustomed to living in Animal Planet.  For example…..Snakes…. Mama killed one with a stick in our courtyard.  Apparently it was on the wall when I was taking my bucket bath, but I didn’t notice it.  She poked it with a stick, cut it’s head off with an ax, threw it’s body over the banana leaf fence, and buried the head.  YES!  There was also a spitting cobra in Farida’s house.  He was just chillin’ on the ceiling when his tail hit her Dada as she walked in the room for dinner.  Running from the house screaming apparently is code for 15 village men to run into the house with pangas.  That snake didn’t stand a chance.  Rats….chill on my mosquito net each night pooping and eating.  I haven’t heard them in the last week which is either because my paka ate them, or I’ve gotten used to it and sleep fofofo.  Bats….. fly out of the choo and TZ Dracula chills on my room beam each night.  The bats in the choo are particularly fun when they fly out while I’m using it.  Worms…they decided inside my feet were a good place to hang out.  Luckily it wasn’t the kind that you have to cut out with the egg sack.

You’d be surprised how much you adjust when you have to. 

I got malaria 3 weeks in.  In the span of 6 hours I jumped to a 104 temperature and became BFF with the choo.  I was taken to the clinic in Tanga, gave a stool sample, and got magic golden pills. When I say magic pill, I mean it.  If this pill tasted like chocolate then it would out-do Willy Wonka’s everlasting gobbstopper.  In 48 hours I was as good as new.  In the meantime, if I got 1 shillingi for every ‘pole’ I received I’d have 1 US Dollar, as the entire village came to check on me.  My Baba, who heard I was sick before he even returned home, killed one of our chickens and bought me sodas thinking that would make me feel better.  Pole chicken. 

In the end, getting sick showed me how well taken care of I’ll be by PC and Tanzanians.  However, it was a humbling and eye opening experience, as many villagers have passed away from Malaria or ‘stomach aches’ (most likely HIV/AIDS), during our training.  I felt guilty to receive the necessary medicine and care while others can’t receive a Band-Aid much less a magic pill.  It’s a weird balance I’ve been struggling with here: between the extreme privilege I have as a foreigner and what sustainable purpose I have serving Tanzanians for two years.