Last summer, my parents got one of those phone calls no parent wants to get. The "I'm six hours away from you and I think my appendix ruptured," phone call. (Turns out I was passing a kidney stone.) This Friday, these same poor parents got one of the text messages no parent wants to get; the "I'm in West Africa and have malaria," text message.
Despite the fact that coastal West Africa was a major trading area, not many white people lived here in the days of colonialism. Nothing like apartheid ever happened around here... there weren't enough white people to cause race issues or oppression. This is because this area was known as the "White Man's Grave", because of the prevalence of malaria.
Nowadays, of course, malaria is treatable. It is even somewhat preventable. All of us are required to be on antimalarial medication. There's Malarone, an expensive daily medication that's only really effective if you take it the exact same time every day, there's Doxycyline, a daily medication that makes your skin more sensitive to the sun and may cause yeast infections, and there's Lariam/Mefloquine, a weekly medication which might cause depression and vivid dreams/hallucinations (this is the one I'm taking). There is a small chance, however, that you can still contract malaria even while on these medications. I am, it seems, one of the lucky few who managed to get malaria while taking antimalarial medication.
I started showing symptoms on Thursday, but I thought it was just the heat. On Friday, it hadn't let up, but I decided to go to my Life of Muhammad class anyway. Afterwards, I went to the hospital, and now I am taking 16 pills a day (three different medications), and lying around the house watching a ton of movies.
Malaria is not fun, particularly the appetite problems (hungry, but can't really eat, but need to eat because I can't take the medication on an empty stomach), and the muscle cramps... and the fever (101.12 before medication! I think the nurse wondered how I was so chipper)... and the sore throat... and the general weakness. I generally have a short amount of time in the day where I feel strong enough to, you know... walk. Yesterday, during that time, I went to the supermarket and splurged on imported food. Things I and my stomach know. I paid nearly 10 cedi for a box of Frosted Flakes, but at this moment in my life it's totally worth it. (I also found ginger ale! Which I've never seen in this country before. An arabic can. Arabic soda cans are the coolest, actually, we have a fair amount of them here. The tab openings are different.) This is one time where it has been very nice to be an obroni - taxis always assume that white people require their services. While the regular honking (or the slowing down of the taxi... or the "passed by but is now backing up just in case" move) can be an annoyance on the walk to school, when you're not feeling well, it's nice to have no issues hailing a cab.
Everyone here's being very helpful and supportive. Pretty much the entire NYU in Ghana administration has checked up on me, and my fellow students are wonderful. NYU in Ghana is a tight knit program, because it's small, and because it's a culture that's so different, and because we all get sick. We are all constantly plagued by at least diarrhea. (If you're not throwing up, you're fine!) We have all been really exceptional at being our brother's keepers, as it were; running errands for people who are sick, making sure everyone gets where they need to go safely, letting people use our showers when their houses runs out of water, etc. I'm in very good hands in the midst of the malaria.
It's true that this is the worst extended illness I've had in my memory. I'm used to intense day-long things (about once a semester at PHTS my body would knock me out for a day, because it needed rest that I wasn't giving it, so it would make me vomit and be absolutely useless so it could replenish), and while I vaguely remember getting sick when I was little, I don't remember being sick like this. But I keep laughing because it's a miracle I'm even in a situation where I could get malaria to begin with, one day it'll make a great story (as one of my classmates said: "Malaria gives you street cred,"), and it's teaching me patience (the grand lesson of this semester will be patience), as the pain is not acute, it's just constant. It will pass. I will have grown because of it. And I've been reading far too much about ascetics to harbor ill feeling towards pain, which is such a useful experience. It's a gift. All experience is a gift.
I have spent a lot of my free time musing on fall break. NYU doesn't normally give its students a fall break (though we could sorely use one), but it gives all of its study abroad students a fall break with the idea that they can travel during that time. They want us to be able to branch out and see surrounding areas and do things we wouldn't normally be able to do. Right now, all anyone talks about is fall break. We're all panicking at how close it's getting (it's the third week of October).
Let me tell you a bit about travel in and around Africa: it's difficult.
Ghana itself is rather safe, but even close to us you have Cote d'Ivoire, Nigeria, parts of Mali, that are all quite dangerous to go to, especially if you're not African. Land travel is risky - roads are not of good quality (traffic is deadly), you're significantly more likely encounter police who will stop you looking for a bribe, vehicles break down all the time, it's slow. (it takes 12 hours to get to Northern Ghana alone, and Ghana ain't that big.) Additionally, if you're white, you will never be able to blend in which can make you more of a target. Additionally, if you're a woman, you shouldn't travel alone, and should preferably travel with a man. This, of course, frustrates me beyond measure (as the least-gender-oriented person I know), but I don't even like being out and about HERE alone because of the amount of attention I get. It would be much more convenient if I were male. I'm far too independent to be a white woman in Africa.
Air travel in Africa is even worse. Believe it or not, it is cheaper to travel from Europe to Africa than from one place in Africa to another. In fact, often flights are routed from one African city, through a European city, and to another African city. So flying through Africa, while safer, is much more expensive. Also, in Africa, you pay a pretty price for hotels because they also include security in a way that's much more necessary.
Staying in Ghana for fall break is barely even an option. No way could I stay in Accra, that'd be lame of me. A friend and I were considering going back to Cape Coast if we just had no idea what to do for fall break. Mali has potential, but I can't do that unless someone who speaks French well comes with me. (Really, I want to go to Mali in January for the Festival of the Desert. At some point in my life.) I'm currently considering two options.
1) Egypt. Egypt would only happen, though, if I found the right person/people to go with as the reasons I want to go to Egypt are not typical tourist-y, but rather religious. (I mean, of course. It's me.)
2) Europe.
There's a part of me that says, "Colleen, really, you're in Africa and you're thinking of going to Europe?" But, with the aforementioned travel difficulties, the annoying fact of female travel on this continent, the expense, and the fact that never in my life have I been to Europe... I might as well. Particularly if my friends who are studying abroad across Europe right now can house me. Thinking of flying to London (for cheeeeeap), then heading over to Paris or Prague. Possibly stopping in Berlin. I think I'm also very much considering this because after this school year, I graduate, which means this is the last part of my life with fewer pressing financial obligations and general freedom. If there's any moment to be romantically gallivanting off to Europe, this is it. A traveling splurge before moving into a tiny non-air-conditioned room in Queens and living as minimally as possible to fund theatrical efforts.
We'll see.
Got a bit of time.
Now; rest.
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