My week of Orc-dom in Chimoio

If you ever need a good “get-to-know-you” game for your next rendezvous with new friends and cheap wine, I've found the following will really get people going: Pick your favorite superpower, then, slap on a limitation. My personal favorite? Teleportation, but you can only teleport to places you’ve already been to meaning, a) you still have to do the hard work of getting somewhere for the first time, but b) after that you can revisit a place as many times as you want! Here’s another example however that might make you reach for another glass of wine. Flying would be awesome right?  Of course. But what if you could only fly two feet off the ground the whole time???

BOOM.

Suddenly, when you think about flying at crotch level for the rest of your life, the “super” part starts to wear off and seem not-so-sexy. 

These last two weeks in particular have taught me something about humility in the face of such – shall we say, disappointing if not unexpected – limitations.

Primarily, I am completely accustomed – and now realize how much I’ve taken it for granted – to being healthy 99% of the time. Mono? Never had it. The flu? Not really. Malaria? Not yet. Flesh-eating bacteria? Escaped that one too (at least so far!)

But, when I woke up one morning two weeks ago with my left eye swollen shut, a lump the size of an egg between my eyebrows, and a plan to hitchhike, alone, with random strangers ten hours to Chimoio, the timing for my superpower of perfect health to falter couldn't have been worse. However, being in complete denial (mostly due to the lack of a good mirror and light), I hit the road early anyways, only thinking to pop heavy doses of Advil and Benadryl, wrap a bandanna across my forehead, and to don my darkest, biggest aviator sunglasses. Let’s just say those things didn’t come off at any point during the day. Trying to cheer myself up, I thought about the new parallel between my life and Kanye’s ("We formed a new religion/No sins as long as there’s permission / Sunglasses and Advil, last night was mad real / Sun coming up, 5 a.m., I wonder if they got cabs still?") and felt a little better. In any case, it was tough embracing the impersonal doucheness of not giving anyone visible eye-contact for an entire day. But it was a good personal challenge and beat the alternative of getting stranded in the middle of nowhere because no one wanted to pick up the blond ogre… ;)

Eight hours, one creepin' drunk driver, three corrupt policemen, one bridge crossing, and two chappas later I finally arrived in Haleigh’s town of Vanduzi, about 30 minutes north of Chimoio. I was tired, grumpy, and the lump on my face had started throbbing with the vengeance of an angry hornet. But I was about to receive the best antidote – sympathy, and compassionate friendship. When Haleigh saw me finally get off the chapa, she trotted over happy with her dog Amendoin, her turquoise skirt ruffling with each step and gave me a tight hug. Amendoin was also excited to see me, and was, as per usual, yelping and wiggling his tail/entire body off.  The lovin’ couldn't have come at a better time to say the least. I needed a boost.

Hay and I spent the evening walking around her village, going to the market, cooking quinoa ‘n veggies, talking with criancas, drinking beer, catching up… the usual things best friends do after missing out on each other’s lives for too long. The next morning we also went for a fantastic run through the beautiful lush green and mountainous countryside, common of Moz’s Central region.  It was absolutely wonderful.  Like chicken soup to the PacNWers soul :)

My face refused to be ignored nor heal up magically on its own however. The morning before Hay and I went to Chimoio for our PCV Reconnect conference for 19ers, I woke up and found that my face had literally blown up to the size of a balloon, a glorified puffy bowling ball. Really, it looked like I’d transformed into an orc from Lord of the Rings, OR like I’d had the sh*t beaten out of me. As I told Sergio (APCD) later, rather cavalierly in retrospect, “yeah, but you should have seen the other guy!”

The 12 hour progression of my face... to Orc (LOTR) status! ;)

It was at this point that Hay wouldn't tolerate any more of my excuses and pleas for “waiting-it-out.” Being the good friend that she is, she told me that I needed to go to the hospital. ASAP. It was the first time anyone had said it out-loud  I’ll admit, I kinda started getting scared. I mean, after all, this infection was on my face! Could it spread to my brain??? Having a creative imagination, visions not of sugar plum fairies but rather mystical zombie-brain-eating-bacteria danced through my head.

Awesome. So, ok. It was time to call Izzy, our Peace Corps doc. An appointment was made within 20 minutes with a local doctor in Chimoio for the next day.

To make a long story shorter, I ended up spending the next THREE mornings at the local clinic in Chimoio, getting my face squeezed, prodded, analyzed, and finally drained of a disgusting, gagging amount of pus. Thankfully, I didn’t have to navigate the Mozambican health care system alone. Gabby, Anna, and I went to the clinic together for our various issues.  Perhaps the funniest moment however came the first time we entered the doctor’s office. A stout, tan, Cuban man with smiling eye-crinkles stood up to welcome us. When we sat down, he took one look at the thing growing on my face and exclaimed in a staccato-ed Spanish, assuming Gabby and I wouldn’t understand, “My God, it’s good she came to see me now, otherwise she’s so ugly not even a Latino would want to sleep with her!!”

While the comment didn't do wonders for my confidence at first, it later fueled in me a sort of defiance. Like, *uck yeah, I have this alien thing on my face that’s people can’t help but stare at. AND I’M GONNA ROCK IT. I’M GONNA LOOK THEM RIGHT IN THE EYE AND STARE THEM DOWN.

Despite all the tough mental talk, I couldn't have held my resolve without the support of my fellow 19er PCVs either. Their humor, their empathy was fantastic. I mean, my bestie Cheyanne and I even had a running list of names for this sucker to laugh it off. That list however will remain undisclosed haha ;)

And really, this whole experience taught me a lot!

For one, to have more appreciation for the fact that people perceive me as “normal” – that I don’t have to go around explaining this or that or who I am to any and every casual observer. Also, that being “normal” offers you a helluva amount of privilege.

Secondly, to have the maturity of accepting that even if I was deemed an ogre for the rest of my life, it’s not the end of the world! If anything, it helps you know who’s got your back. It made me think back to a girl I used to play in the orchestra with, who was born with a large birthmark on her face. I remember she told me once she called it her “boy/friend filter” – that anyone who couldn't get past judging her superficially wouldn't have the qualities she wanted in a friend or relationship anyways. In other words, haters gonna hate, so accept the people that accept you for you!

Thirdly, patience is a virtue, but procrastination is not!! Next time, get thee to a hospital much sooner woman!!!

Oh and for the record, we still don’t really know what caused this huge allergic reaction/grande infection… Our best guess is that it was a nasty bug/spider bite that got infected.

EWWWW.