I need to write about the burn unit, but I've been working on what I want to say for the past 5 days and it's still not done. So instead I'll write about other stuff.
First, malaria. Our housekeeper (I'll call her A) didn't come in on Friday because her adopted daughter was sick with a fever of up to 45 degrees Celsius--about 113 Fahrenheit--and sure enough, it was malaria. So first of all, our housekeeper is 27, and has been raising two girl orphans by herself. She also walks 1.5 hours to work each way every day, pays for the girls to get extra tutoring, will go back to school part-time in the fall for nursing, and always has a smile on her face. She's crystal-honest and incredibly giving, and found the time today to bring in some sweet potatoes for the kids because they mentioned how much they loved them when she cooked them for herself last week. So yeah, she rocks.
I texted her throughout the weekend to make sure she had everything for her daughters and didn't need help. On Sunday she said her daughter was doing much better and would be going in to take her exams today. These are Malawian end of the year exams that determine whether kids get to move on to the next grade. This kid is 9. So she gets diagnosed with malaria on Friday and sits for an exam that determines her next year on Monday. I asked our housekeeper if she could get an excuse and A said that she could, but that she herself (the kid) was insisting on taking the tests. Throughout my academic career I've run into kids and then adults for whom a hang nail represented a good excuse to skip school, and here's this kid who's 9 and legitimately sick who insists on going to school and taking the most important exam of the year! Amazing what some antimalarials and a fighting spirit can do.
This weekend passed under the sign of sickness. After our trip to the lake, Micah on Saturday afternoon began complaining of feeling achy and tired. He improved a bit on Sunday, so we went to Dreamland with the kids--more on that later. But then Sunday night he made many, many trips to the bathroom and ran a high fever, so I gave him a snack of azithromycin and made him drink ORS (Oral Rehydration Salts, aka gatorade without the flavor), and today he's much better. But no Fourth of July cupcakes for him--which if you know Micah, you know signifies how rotten he must have felt! We have traced the culprit to a block of local mozzarella cheese, as it was the only thing we ate that the kids did not (I feel a bit off, but nothing like his version). Antibiotics--it's what's for dinner!
OK, finally for the fun part/pictures. We took the kids to Dreamland on Sunday. For MK2500 per person, or about $3.33(excluding Janek), you could ride all day, entering and leaving as many times as you wanted to. Dreamland consists of a collection of discarded, probably not-up-to-code carnival rides that some enterprising individual imported from god knows where and plopped in the middle of a dusty red field, enclosed it inside a brick wall, attached a restaurant that serves Bloody Marys on a terrace overlooking the rides, and thus made it into a hungover parent's paradise. You can bring your pride and joys here and let them run free because they can't go anywhere that you can't see from said terrace, and you can blissfully sit and get drunk-or eat pizza (not great) or kebobs (smell awesome) or hummus, which was edible. It's a really brilliant invention that would never fly in the States, and we're definitely going to come back.
 |
| Look ma, no seatbelt! |
 |
| Stas' outfit cracks me up |
 |
| The kids have now ridden carousels on 3 continents |
Finally, for the Fourth, we had vegetarian burgers (cause it was easier on our bellies than beef and cause we don't yet own a grill); and found cupcake mix from South Africa at the local Chipiku (the grocery store that has everything in moderation, except for maple syrup). So we made vanilla cupcakes. Happy 4th, everyone!
 |
| Sprinkles are serious business! |
No comments:
Post a Comment