Sickness and Friendship

About half of the team is sick at the moment, with what seems to be the result of contaminated ice cream (yes, we make homemade ice cream here, thanks to the Myhre's cow). It's something pretty nasty, beyond the standard intestinal bug. Though I'm running a fever - and frequently running out to the choo - I've been extremely lucky in a couple of ways. First, this is only the second time I've been sick in almost a year, despite living in a place with different, and more numerous, germs. Second, both times I've gotten sick have been right after someone has come to stay in my house. Scott Will arrived last weekend to stay for a few months, so I wasn't alone in my house all night.

This bout of sickness provided me with a truly remarkable experience. Yesterday evening, as I was curled up on my couch, feverish, aching, and weak, my little neighbor Charity stuck his head in my door. Upon seeing my condition, he walked in and just sat next to me, sometimes silent, sometimes patting me on the shoulder, sometimes telling me how sorry he was. As I got colder, he brought me blankets. As night fell, he lit candles in the room and closed the shutters, to protect me from "moving air." He made sure I was taking medicine and even advised me on what ones I needed - "two red and one tylenol." Soon Gonja, Charity's brother, joined us, and he brought me water and cleaned in my kitchen. They brought my clothes in off the line. And they just sat next to me, caring for me in my sickness.

The care and tenderness they showed me was heartwarming. Because of our respective ages and vastly differing access to resources, there is usually substantial inequality in our relationships - they come to me for help a lot more than I go to them, as there is simply more that I can do for them. That, unfortunately, is just how it works, and this dynamic is a difficult part of relationships here. But this illness gave them the chance to care for me, and their concern and warmth brought tears to my eyes.

I thanked them over and over for what seemed to me to be going so far out of their way for me, but they assured me that helping me in my sickness was not a burden, but rather was truly what they wanted to do.

I don't want to look at everything through the rose-colored glasses of one positive experience. These kids aren't perfect. Last week my iPod disappeared after they had been in my house, and reappeared a few days later, more scratched than when it left and missing its case, after I expressed my anger at it being taken. While I can't be certain, there is little doubt that one of them took it. Those types of experiences are also a part of my life here, and these relationships are not always easy. Nothing is as straightforward as a few blog posts might make it seem to be. But seeing the way they cared for me last night made up for a world - or at least a few days - of frustrations. They treated me like one of their own.