(no subject)
I just took my first dose of a live attenuated vaccine for typhoid fever. I have to keep the pills in the refrigerator because they contain LIVE bacteria. How cool! The pesky little Salmonella typhi! Causing delirium, intestinal perforation, and death! Look at em!
And I also got my shots for yellow fever, Hepatitis A, a polio booster, and doxycycline, the cheapest antibiotic. By choosing side effects of diarrhea, yeast infections, and vomitting over sun sensitivity (Malarone), and psychotic behavior, hallucinations, and suicide (Larium, hey let's snort it!), I saved myself $1265. You can hardly ignore that. And that's added to the endless chronic guilt of spending more than $1300 to swallow a little pill every day reminding you that you must protect your supple, well-nourished, pristine American body from the reality of Africa and all of its intrusions. Just one more thing you don't want to be thinking about as you vomit ugali through your nose and curse the hubris of the international public health worker.
The life expectancy of an average (white, middle class) American woman: 80.
The life expectancy of the average (accessible) Kenyan woman: 50.
At least I can go there while I'm still under 50, at least I don't have those 30 years of pure time, pure privilege, the manifestation of privilege as time, and time as skin and memories of mothers and grandmothers who are still here with me. At least I don't have that hanging over me, right?
So I've gotten my shots, my drugs, and that must mean that I've actually finally decided to go. There are options to go to Uganda instead, Mali even (with my remedial french), or South Africa. But we'll be relocated to Tanzania or Uga, if anything really dangerous happens. And they're giving us all cell phones so we can keep in close contact with advisors and the embassy. So I still have to sign the contract agreeing that I'm aware that I'm putting my life in risk and I promise not to sue anyone affiliated with the academic program no matter what.
And I also got my shots for yellow fever, Hepatitis A, a polio booster, and doxycycline, the cheapest antibiotic. By choosing side effects of diarrhea, yeast infections, and vomitting over sun sensitivity (Malarone), and psychotic behavior, hallucinations, and suicide (Larium, hey let's snort it!), I saved myself $1265. You can hardly ignore that. And that's added to the endless chronic guilt of spending more than $1300 to swallow a little pill every day reminding you that you must protect your supple, well-nourished, pristine American body from the reality of Africa and all of its intrusions. Just one more thing you don't want to be thinking about as you vomit ugali through your nose and curse the hubris of the international public health worker.
The life expectancy of an average (white, middle class) American woman: 80.
The life expectancy of the average (accessible) Kenyan woman: 50.
At least I can go there while I'm still under 50, at least I don't have those 30 years of pure time, pure privilege, the manifestation of privilege as time, and time as skin and memories of mothers and grandmothers who are still here with me. At least I don't have that hanging over me, right?
So I've gotten my shots, my drugs, and that must mean that I've actually finally decided to go. There are options to go to Uganda instead, Mali even (with my remedial french), or South Africa. But we'll be relocated to Tanzania or Uga, if anything really dangerous happens. And they're giving us all cell phones so we can keep in close contact with advisors and the embassy. So I still have to sign the contract agreeing that I'm aware that I'm putting my life in risk and I promise not to sue anyone affiliated with the academic program no matter what.