I'm currently sitting in my cooking shelter, watching the rain. It's rainy season right now. From about november to march in zambia you can expect rain just about every day, though it varies depending on where you live. I kind of enjoy it, though the rain makes it a pain to start a fire for cooking or do laundry. Life slows down here during the rains, though it wasn't moving very fast to begin with. People are out in their fields or staying inside keeping dry. So what does a volunteer do? Not much. You stock up on books, get comfortable, and settle in for a few months of inactivity. However, since one can only stay still for so long, rainy season is also prime time for getting out of the village. Most volunteers went somewhere over the holidays, be it a big international vacation or just somewhere out of the village. But just around the corner is the biggest vacation time in peace corps zambia. In february i and about half the volunteers in country will get on a train to dar es salaam, tanzania, then take a boat out to the islands of zanzibar for the annual zanzibar music festival. Zanzibar rose to prominence in the heyday of colonialism as a key point in the spice trade. While it's still renowned for it's spices it's now mainly a major tourist destination. Fascinating culture, pristine beaches, excellent food... I can't wait.

A week ago, having just recently returned from my time off for Christmas and New year's, I woke up in my village, bid a visiting friend farewell, and abruptly realized something: I was sick. Achy, sweaty, probably a fever, fatigued, and a dull but ever present headache. I rested all day and told myself I'd wait till tomorrow to start worrying seriously about my condition, specifically I'd wait until I used the m-word.
Tuesday morning I woke up feeling much the same, maybe a little worse. I had no proof, but at this point I was fairly sure I had malaria. This is common. Malaria is very much prevalent in the southern hemisphere, and it is a big problem in Zambia. We use malaria prophylaxis and sleep under mosquito nets, but even so the reality is a peace corps volunteer in Zambia will most likely contract malaria at some point during their service. The good thing is that, while a specific strain of malaria is fatal if untreated, malaria is very treatable, and peace corps makes sure we have the necessary resources to treat ourselves. Treatment is coartem, a three day, 24 pill treatment. On tuesday I started taking my coartem and planned to go to Lusaka the next day to test for malaria and get better.
I woke up Wednesday and walked to the road to hitch a ride into town. It was about 7:30 am, the market was quiet, it was cloudy, a rainstorm had just finished and it looked like another was coming. I stood on the road for about 15 minutes waiting for a car to come. Suddenly my stomach started to ache. My head felt light and I started feeling dizzy and seeing white spots. Then...
WHAM!!!!!!
Out cold. Faceplant in the asphalt. Not being of very sound mind, I stood up again, which brought about similar results. A villager saw what happened, came over to me and walked me to a nearby shop to sit down. I was brought some mangoes and a soft drink to give me some energy. I was a little freaked out, but not quite as much as the villagers who had just seen me pass out. Not wanting to travel to the two nearest Peace Corps offices in Lusaka (200 km away) or Chipata (500 km away), the nurse from my clinic called the nearby mission hospital (25 km away). They sent an ambulance to pick me up and I got to the hospital at about 11:00. The hospital is part of a catholic mission in Mpanshya, a town about 20 k away from Lukwipa. It's run by a mish mash of ex-pats, Zambians and a rotating cast of medical and otherwise volunteers, mostly from Europe. There I met Maggie, who I'm pretty sure is an angel from heaven disguised as a very devout Catholic from Poland who came to the hospital as a volunteer 5 years ago and decided to stay for the rest of her life. After getting some food in me and testing my blood she took me to her house where she was kind enough to let me stay until I could leave. She fed me, let me take a hot bath (!), and let me rest and relax. That night we had dinner with Tobias and Dominic, two german med students doing a 2 month stint at the hospital, and Sean, an Irish VSO volunteer doing some accounting work for the hospital. The next day there happened to be a vehicle leaving from the mission to go to Lusaka, so on Thurs. afternoon I left and came to the Peace Corps office to test for malaria again and rest and recover.
It's been quite a week. Forgetting how different America's perception of malaria is from our's in Zambia, I managed to scare the crap out a few people, namely my parents. Sorry about that. I appreciate everyone's concern and messages. Hopefully this is the last malaria I have.