The rainy season began the day I got malaria

I was laying in the bathtub, icepacks on my face, when the rain began. And with the rain came the insects. You know you are sick when swarms of little winged bugs find their way into your bathroom and you watch them with utter nonchalance. I simply picked myself up, flicked off the ones that landed on me as I toweled off and shut the door behind me. Kindly, my Canadian friend Scott braved the bathroom later that night, killing all the bugs and flushed them away while I lay curled up on a chair in my living room. I am fairly well recovered now as I write this, but still have that achy feeling all over. I developed a rocking headache that was soon followed by high fevers, chills, nausea, and the like. This lasted for a couple of days, but thankfully the treatment is fast acting. I have spent the last few days sleeping. Poor me. I have had loads of visitors all bearing home remedies and diversions. The ex-pats (non-Zambians) bring movies, books, and lots of pills (to my delight) and my Zambian friends bring prayers. And they aren’t joking around when they pray. On the second day I was home sick I seriously had three different groups come to visit and took time to pray for everything imaginable—my body, my mind, my home, my drugs, my bed, etc. You name it, they prayed for it. How wonderfully kind and seriously non-western. Not the prayer part, but the visiting part. I am used to people tip-toeing around me when I’m sick, but here, people gather around and linger. It has been exhausting, but I have been well loved this week. And all the while it rained.

I've had some requests of pics of ME to prove I am alive and well, so, here you go!