Bound to happen

I wasn’t anticipating writing this story, and if you don’t have a strong stomach then stop now. I wont go into graphic details and I planned on only telling my mother and Bjorn this story, but my mom said I HAVE to talk about it since it is part of the life here. So if you cannot handle bathroom talk like I said before stop now, or if you’re eating maybe wait till after….

Today was one of those days I dread but I know is coming. The first day you get sick in Africa, always comes at the worst timing and in the worst situation, today was that day. 25 days into my trip and I was conducting an interview in the back room of the NGO, when all of a sudden I started to sweat, a lot. You know right before you have a really bad stomachache you start to sweat a bit, well, it was so hot that I couldn’t tell if it was the heat or pain. So this woman answering my question was about 75% of the way through the story when I thought, oh shit, I’m going to throw up. I told Mirabelle to keep going with the interview and I RAN out of the room to the bathroom at the NGO. I knew where it was but I hadn’t been inside yet. Struggling to compose myself, I tried to turn the lights on, failure, lock the door failure. In my head I knew exactly what was going on. For lunch Mirabelle and I had pre-ordered a meal but the woman always forgets us for some reason so we were forced to eat the sandwiches, which usually consist of egg, onions and tomatoes all cooked. This time however they were out of eggs and did everything raw with avocados. I saw the tomatoes too late…. and the rule in Africa is if you can peel it, boil or cook it you’re fine otherwise don’t put it in your mouth, and today I hate those damn tomatoes raw!

Now back in the bathroom at the NGO, I’m sweating like a crazy person sick to my stomach not sure if I want my face or my ass in the toilet. I will do ANYTHING not to throw up, I hate it, so I tried the second option. (you can fill in this blank and it wasn’t pretty, and with a little dry heavy holding back vomit) But the lights are still out since I cant find the light switch in time, so I cant tell how clean it is so I’m hovering about the toilet refusing to sit down. So after that beautifulness I’m drenched in sweat and am looking in the dark for toilet paper. No toilet paper. They have the kettle thing I showed in a picture a few days ago so I’m like why not! Everyone else does it! Lets just say its best to be sitting when you do this, not when you hover; it is like showering in it. (Again, fill in the blank yourself please) So by now I’m so unhappy, words couldn’t not describe what I’m thinking. Then I remember I have a handkerchief in pocket so I pull it out to clean a bit and think, now where do I put this. Mind you I REALLY need this handkerchief to wipe the sweat off my face and chest during the day otherwise I get covered in heat rash, so later I’m going to have to heavily clean it. So by now Mirabelle is outside, she’s finished the interview and is worried about me. I tell her I’m fine and then I try to flush…nothing….great. I tell her it doesn’t flush and she goes out to get a bucket of water. I’m standing with water around my feet from the stupid kettle in a bathroom at and an NGO for HIV. Just one of those moments I suppose. Mirabelle comes back with a bucket and I fill the tank with my expertise in toilets after too many trips to Africa. And FLUSH (The first sigh I release in a while.) The she turns on the lights…thanks. On the way out, everyone asks if I’m okay, thankfully women with HIV are not shy about being sick, they take it seriously and encourage me to rest. One woman, who is 7 months pregnant right now, says “you and I have the same problem” and winks I told her only Mother Mary can produce immaculate conception. Now I had to get on the back of a motorcycle to go back to the office to get my computer and then home! I was not happy but thankfully at the office bathrooms there was some toilet paper this time and I washed my face and my shoes. Back at the house I washed all my clothes and hung them to dry. It was one long day….

I know it was disgusting, but I’m sorry to say its not uncommon here, even if youre very careful, its just part of the life. If you cant handle this story, than don’t even consider going to Africa. You need to adapt, even in the worst situations. I’m not proud of my story, I’m only proud that this was not the first time, nor probably the last where I learned what it would be like to really be sick and have no availability to a clean sanitized bathroom. Not everyone is so lucky. One girl on my trip in Kenya almost shit on the sailboat we were on; it’s always the worst situation at the worst time!