Ups and Downs, but Still the Same Boring Ride.

So the enjoyment gap here for me (and Bill) is large and noticeable. For me, I notice that every day I am at the school, be it for Cheke Chea, Girls Club, or sitting in and/or speaking at another teacher's class, I am thoroughly steeped in glee. There are difficulties in these areas, of course: the language barrier, the lowered authority status with the kids from being mzungu, my own teaching ineptitude. However, for the most part, when I get a spare moment while up at Gyetighi Primary School, I find myself grateful for the bliss I feel if I've afforded myself any sense of accomplishment at the end of a lesson. Or, when I'm on my walk home--usually with anywhere between 3 and 6 of my Cheke Chea studends clinging to my hands and arms--the view of the green hills and mountains that layer the horizon and my reflection on the previous hours compete for my grins.

When I'm in Play Group, where I start my mornings, I am also cheerfully distracted. Six or eight rambunctious and giggly pre-preschool aged kids will do that to you. Each day is a little different, but mostly the same: books, legos, "Stop throwing!!", colouring, gymnastics, "Usipige!!" tag, "What colour is that?", London Bridge, laughing, "Who's choking me?" fake crying, real crying, looking for bugs, laughing again. The chaotic flow of Play Group is something to behold. Having Bill with me is great. He brings a lot of energy to Play Group and isn't just another pair of hands. A volunteer named Junior joined a few days ago. He's also great with the kids and I appreciate having him around in general. I think together, we have enough eyes, hands, shoulders, and legs to keep the kids under control.

The lowest points of the day are during and after group interactions with the other volunteers, particularly the ones mentioned from a few weekends ago and the catty interactions of others who indulged in all the bruised bitterness floating around in the wake of that bull. Bill wrote of the "hello" test of sorts that came to pass. There was a lot of schoolyard attitude involved in that, which I resent greatly. I feel like no one here knows how to address a situation even semidirectly.

In the past couple of days, the folks at the epicenter of this social ridiculousness have been saying "hello", surprisingly. I don't know how I'm expected to react to that. Their history of using greeting me as some sort of a test of my character doesn't make me feel like cooperating. However, at cocktail parties at India's house, for example, I'll cordially engage whomever talks to me in conversation; there's no reason for me to do anything that could be considered exacerbating in that kind of setting.

In the past week or so, there would be days when they'd all talk to me and days when they'd stay silent in a room with me. How on earth I was supposed to know how to predict and react to these social whims, I don't know. I can predict, though, that when I don't return the warmth on the days conversation is granted me, it's viewed as coldness on my part--nevermind the fact that I may be entitled to a healthy amount of indignation from the previous days of silence, exclusion, and easily readable facial expressions.

Ah, exclusion.

One of the most disappointing things about the group's behaviour is the lack of knowing what "the right thing to do" is. When Maggie was here, she planned a trip to Olduvai Gorge. She had a group of people in mind, but even invited the folks she considered to be awful, because it was the right thing to do. Of course they wouldn't have accepted the invitation--anyone could have predicted that--it was the adult act of extending the invitation which was important. When Maggie left, that kind of tact went with her. The group planned a day safari into Ngorongoro and invited everyone but Bill and myself. Were we invited, we wouldn't ave gone (though Bill says he would have just gone for the awkward presence) but they couldn't man up and even let us know what was going on. The new volunteers were invited in front of us, but after all the planning and preparation had taken place. Everything was quiet until it was clearly no chance of changing plans; something that stands out because, to be honest, the group's essence could never be appropriately described with the Q word. The audacity of even considering that Bill and I would consider spending our free day in a van with these people--no matter the setting--is enourmous. I can't imagine what would make any of them think we would have wanted in. They could have just shown that they were decent folk by inviting us, or making small talk about the trip without actually inviting us. I was disappointed, but not surprised, except for in the case of one individual who was a part of it all, from whom I expected better.

As Bill mentioned, the childishness and "he said/she said" eb and flow of social logic seeped into the staff realm, leaving us with diminished ability to actually approach the Volunteer Coordinator with our concerns. She never even asked Bill (the only person who could have backed up my perspective on things) for his take on things, where all other other volunteers involved had their say. I don't know if it was a decision informed by our being in a relationship, as if one opinion is the carbon copy of the other's, or if if she had just felt that an adequate amount of people had told her the same story that enough had been heard. Regardless, Bill and I both took offense at the display of a lack of interest in attending to our concerns. Further, it was difficult to even get her ear when we would approach her. Once the group got back from their trip, she started disappearing from meals far more quickly and we cross paths far less now than before this whole conflict. On top of that, we see her talking and joking with them quite fluidly. It's disappointing. It's irritating. It's a lot like what I imagine high school would have been like had I not the types of friends I had. What I don't understand is why the simple task of talking to me a little more (and Bill at all) to make sure that all of the facts, opinions, and feelings are known, scruitinized, and noted wasn't part of this social equation; why things had to go in the direction of teeny, schoolchildlike behaviour. This isn't a social club; it's an organizaiton. Organization is in the bloody root of the word.

But as Bill and I have both said, we do have our allies on the Staff (god... how pathetic does this whole situation sound...) and it's refreshing to talk to them about our aspirations, focus, and frustrations here. So we're not crazy. There are plenty of people who are empathetic to the situation and are able to offer wisdom from their insight and knowledge as to why certain things are the way they are, how things have been, and what we may and may not expect to come of our setup.

Anyway... more to spew later I'm sure. Time for other things. We are looking forward to a trip to Arusha tomorrow.

Better. Thank you. Sorry.

Firstly, my apologies and thanks to people who read and were concerned. Lech, your misanthropy in this dose was a wonder drug; medicinal and therapeutic. Mom, I'm sorry I made you so worried you had to call. I love you. Things are much better.

So, the verdict is a tasty combination of hookworm and bronchitis. Yaaaaaay! I was able to go to the clinic on Tuesday, talk to a doc, hand over some bodily substances to a man with Kermit the Frog's voice, and pay about $9 for the whole thing, including drugs, lab work, and medical consultation.

On Tuesday, I started the bronchitis medicine at lunch and the de-worming meds at dinner. Apparently, the deworming meds share an ingredient with Antabuse, so, no alcohol for me for the next couple of weeks. Kind of wishing some other folks around here needed to be de-wormed as well.

It was good to spend the first half of Wednesday away from the compound even though it was at a clinic, as well as the first half of Tuesday in my bed, resting. I needed to be away from the crowd and this was as close I could get to a period of seclusion.

Yesterday, one of the guys involved in... the incident... pulled me aside and offered and apology, stating that he's in no way against the rights of women, identifies as a liberal Dem, has exact opposite political beliefs to the "W.T.F.C.?!" guy in general, and that that wasn't at all the message he wanted to convey. I believe him based on the little I got to know of him in the few days before the whole debacle. The fact that the opinion wasn't what was bothering me on a whole made it an easy conversation to have. I offered an apology as well and we hugged it out and things are, for the most part, fine. His name is Richard Move.

Things are still uncomfortable with some of the rest of the group, mostly people who had some phantom problem with me to begin with (eg, a girl who was so insulted when I corrected her assessment of how Bill and I feel about each other that she rarely talks to me lest she needs something or is criticizing my position on some inane topic or another; another girl who has a problem with Bill and, lacking the maturity to deal with her issue directly, allegedly tried to engender the entire volunteer group with similar feelings of Bill-targeted negativity during a discussion away from the two of us, yet still, quite superficially, behaves in a friendly--not cordial-- manner to his face.). Something was definitely broken between Bill & I and the rest of the group, which probably should bother us, but really doesn't. I think we both pretty much feel like we didn't do anything wrong (since, of course, no one else was hurt), so, the ball's in whomever else's court now. However, I feel like the maturity levels I had assessed the first week were correct, taking the last few days into consideration. It could be basic awkwardness or uncertainty as to how being friendly with us would be received, but it just looks like Bill and I are no longer part of the picture. Like we discussed before: someone who can't understand our friendships, probably doesn't deserve them.

I think I wrote earlier about how Bill and I were able to talk to Debbie, the Volunteer Coordinator about the whole thing. Her reactions to our gripes, complaints, and concerns were very, very reassuring and offered the validation necessary for us to feel like we weren't crazy. It's like a friend of mine from SAS said--something I quoted earlier--"some people are cool, and some people aren't." Some people just get it, and I highly value that type of person.

Moving on, I'm doubting the bronchitis diagnosis, but taking the meds anyway. It's only a course of three pills. I'm more relieved that someone was able to hip me to my hookworm condition and give me something for that. As Bill mentioned in an earlier post, this area's hookworm is tenacious and requires a couple of courses of the deworming meds. The thing that's bothering me most right now is the fact that I'm still all phlegm-y and pretty noticeably tired lately. I've stayed home from school for two days now and feel pretty bad about it, but I simply don't feel I have the energy (or vocal strength) to yell the ABC's to my young'ns at Gyetighi Primary School. I plan on at least going to Girls Club this afternoon, but I'm still undecided on teaching during the school day. We'll see.



Enough of that for now. I want to talk about the great things that have been happening. Yesterday, for example, Bill and I were in our room, revisiting Shel Silverstein poems together as we waited for dinner time to roll around. The library doesn't have A Light in the Attic (I'm going to send it to Christina [oh my god--remember Christina? We live with her now! And she's marvelous] when I get back to the States), but Where the Sidewalk Ends is also pretty good. "An Invitation," "Hug-O-War" and "Hector the Collector" all the way.

Bill got up and moved to the window. With a smile, he started to narrate in a monotone voice:

Isaka's [12] standing on a rickety old table to watch the game [over the hedge].
Boazi's [6?] climbing on the table. He just pushed Isaka off.
Isaka climbing back up again, and pushing Boazi down at the same time.
Boazi's pulling on Isaka's leg.
Isaka's just got his foot on Boazi's head and pushing him down.
Oh god, Boazi's getting the hose.
Okay maybe he's not.... okay he is--"BOAZI!! PUT THAT DOWN!!"

At some point in there, I had moved to the window and we watched the rising action together. After yelling to Boazi, we ventured outside to the scene of the crime. It was difficult to present ourselves as figures of authority at that moment due to the fact that we couldn't halt our laughter.

I really like the kids we're living with. At first, I was a little anxious about the age group not being the one I'm most comfortable with, but the connections Bill and I have already forged with this bunch is beautiful. We spent some time in the boys' room last night before bedtime. That was a lot of fun. The boys got a little rambunctious, but I think it was a pretty good bonding experience. A couple of them got a little out of hand, but for the most part, it was a good time.

Bill now works with me in Play Group and it is a totally different experience. He brings a great energy to the group and is an expert at wrangling the tots when they start to get a little too excited. The kids really like him, and I do too, so it all works out pretty well. Natalie is still going strong with her potty training, at least with me, and Boniface gives the sweetest little kisses. I'm enjoying the experience, and it isn't beyond my energy, especially having Bill there with me. I do feel badly about his being pulled out of Power Hour with the boys to help me, as from everything I could see, he was doing really, really, really well with them.

Another person I'm really happy to have here is Salama. She's been nothing but helpful and easy to talk to. She's strict about us taking care of ourselves, so if she hears the slightest hint of anyone's intent to push themselves while feeling off, she makes sure that they don't. This morning, I even fibbed a little this morning when she asked if I was okay. I said "Yeah, not bad." She grimaced and said "Pole sana". Salama and I, oddly enough, have a lot of the same seemingly random physical ailments, so it's kind of comforting in a weird way to talk to her. I love the way she tells stories, too.

More good things to write, but this is getting pretty lengthy, and Bill and I are about to start a make-shift drum circle outside with some 5-year-olds.

Dr. Frank

Lots of medical news.

Yesterday afternoon, Bill developed a fever (he's fine -- I'm not going to make you read the whole entry to get to that point). He hit 103, just out of nowhere, and his muscles were sore. It all seemed to come out of the blue, though some of the muscle soreness was anticipated as Bill had spent a good part of Saturday morning spotting kids as they practiced their gymnastics. I gave him some ibuprofen to break his fever and stared at him for most of the rest of the day. He said he felt very cold and got under the blankets for all of the 45 seconds I would allow that. After some rest, when he took a shower, I could hear him shivering and shuddering under the water from the bedroom. To hear it, you'd think he was bathing in ice water. I urged him to take some Cipro as per the doctor's orders: If you develop a fever out of nowhere, take the antibiotics immediately and seek medical help and when he finally agreed, accidentally gave him a cyclobenzaprine, a muscle relaxer (read: CNS depressor) which is probably exactly why I am not a doctor. Despite my medical error, his fever broke pretty quickly. Bill suspects it's because a muscle relaxer mellows your muscles and halts the fever by stopping their cells from burning calories to make heat. But, Bill can write more about his own condition later.

As I was crawling into bed on Saturday night, my right knee felt funny. There was a raised area adjacent to the knee on the upper side which felt somewhere between hard and swollen. The next day, my range of motion was noticeably limited. I panicked. Man did I panic. I panicked so hard over the thought of my arthritis returning that I had no reaction but to be reduced to crying. I had a complication quite similar to the flagship ailment at the nightmarish dawn of my mysterious and crippling arthritic condition back in August 2008, wherein I sustained no injury, had no allergic traceable reaction, and was barely stressing the joint. To experience a near exact replica of the beginning of that physical and psychological tilt-a-whirl was not something for which I was emotionally prepared. It's not something for which I suspect anyone is emotionally prepared. Having spent the better part of a year unable to live my life at the level of capability all the previous year had prepared me for, looking at an image of the past and considering the possibility that it may be the future was absolutely frightening. At some point in what I think was November, the last joint in my body to lose its stiffness, my left index finger, had gone stiff again overnight. It shattered me. The thought of going back to the state I was in, it absolutely freaked me out.

Anyway, after a day of relaxing at the Galleria and practicing qi gong, I wasn't feeling any better. In fact, by this morning, my right knee was about 150% the size of the left, I was limping, and my range of motion was a joke. At Play Group, I couldn't even sit on the floor with the kids, which was truly an impediment to the connection I typically tend to feel with them. Today, Bill and I made our way to FAME, where I met and was treated by (because I asked for him, specifically) Dr. Frank, the American doctor. It was good to talk to someone who was fluent in not only English but sarcasm about my health problems. When I went to FAME last week, I felt there was a bit of a disconnect between the Tanzanian docs and myself when explaining my coughing and weakness issues. Since today I was going to have to deal with explaining the past year and a half to someone as background for my seemingly randomly swollen knee, I needed to not have to worry about that.

Dr. Frank is great. He's a funny guy with an attentive but laid back personality. He listened carefully as I lay the puzzle pieces in front of him and seemed eager to figure out what the hell is wrong with me. You have to realize: every doctor I'd been to up until this point was so resistant to show uncertainty or bewilderment at my very uncertain and bewildering condition. To see someone sit back, brow a-furrowed, actually admitting that these ailments were alien to him was quite refreshing. It meant that he was thinking. Dr. Frank seemed enthusiastic about figuring out what I had, and was quite honest about having not heard of such a strange course of medical events. He's a self-described "research nut" and when confronted with the puzzle pieces that are my symptoms (and a hat trick of fluids), said, "I love a good mystery!"

Even though I left FAME yesterday with no real answers, I was given something for which I'm very grateful: According to Dr. Frank's research thus far, I may, may, have something called Reactionary Arthritis, a condition that manifests itself as an inflamed joint, typically in the lower extremities, when elsewhere in the body there is some sort of infection. When I heard this, I shrugged and said, "I don't have any infection..." to which Dr. Frank replied with "Actually, you have a raging UTI and a shit load of hookworms."

Woohoo!

He also said I was passing ketones, proteins, pus, all sorts of awesome things. The word "ketones" brought back some memories from the summer of 2008; memories which were covered up by my full-body arthritis, which had taken hold immediately afterwards. The docs and lab techs in the States wrote off my ketone passage as something related to Diabetes as soon as they learned of my family health history. I, however, have always tested negatively for Diabetes. The blood tests Bill and I scraped together the funding for in '08 showed that, at least on paper, I was in good health. My blood count, liver, kidneys, sugar, everything was fine. Both of my acupuncturists, however, reported treating my kidneys as part of easing my symptoms. And here I am again, with another knee problem, passing ketones, and having kidney problems. The fact that a possible name has been suggested for my condition is something for which I can't describe elation.

I'm not going to hold on to this potential diagnosis until more talks with Dr. Frank. He took my email address and we are going to keep in touch as he conducts more research or as my symptoms wax and wane. But it is nice to have been told "I'm not certain, but one thing it could be is..." rather than "Nothing seems to be wrong, and you don't have..."

$20 for all of that, too...

Alright, all for now. Mom, others: don't worry. I'm not in pain.

New Computer

Today, we received the used IBM ThinkPad we purchased on eBay.  I'm pretty impressed!  We decided it would be to our benefit to purchase a cheap, used, more or less disposable computer for us to organize our thoughts and photos on while away from internet access.  The Children's Village has a computer in the staff room for us to use, and it's connected to the internet, but it will be nice to be able to process our captured thought processes and imagery in the privacy of our room(s) at whatever hour we please, as has been our nature since I guess the beginning of each of our relationships with personal computers.

It has only been a couple of hours, but I am very pleased with our purchase.  It's a rather small machine with a 12" screen, a 40GB hard drive, and a hefty enough amount of RAM for me not to have had to wait for anything impatiently.  We originally purchased another used laptop from eBay.  It was alarmingly awful.  Start-up took 15-20 minutes from pushing the power button to actually being able to do anything and the hard drive buzzed when we turned it on.  That's usually a sign of bad heads.  I don't know what that means, but it's what Google told me, and it's what I fingered when I wrote my disappointed and overly wordy email to Tad, the gentleman who sold it to me.  I emailed him the moment I won the auction for this here ThinkPad and he promptly accepted my proposal for a return and full refund.  Great upgrade for the $25 difference between the two machines.  The display on this one is nifty-brilliant, too, which means sorting through our photographs will be quite dreamy, where the other's screen looked its age and was rather dull, like the people I recognize from high school when I'm dragged to a local bar (POW!).

Not very used to the little cursor button in the keypad, though.  I think we'll be bringing a good old fashion mouse long with us.

In addition to our new/old laptop, Bill and I also recently acquired a 500GB portable hard drive.  It's about the size of my hand and is USB powered.  We're covered.  The next thing we need to obtain is a universal converter/adapter for our electronics.  Maybe a couple.  There are a lot of little things left for us to take care of in our remaining three weeks here.  We've been using Google Wave to organize our actions, purchases, etc.  It works; it's better than scrap paper since one can't truly misplace the internet.