An, kaa bidoam

My host mother and I have a tempestuous relationship to say the least. However, two days ago when I got VERY ill, things seemed to change for the better.

I woke up at 5:30 and threw up my dinner from the night before. Sorry if this is too graphic for you. But, I guess I must have made a lot noise while throwing up because I heard my host mom, who was sleeping outside my door, wake up and yell at my 6 year old host brother, "Hassim! Did you just throw up? Did you?" The poor kid woke up and gave her a sleepy no.

Around 7, after not falling back asleep, I walked outside my room and told her that it was me throwing up and that I was going to go to Ndioum and see the doctors. I was upset because this was the first time I had been completely alone and really sick. To my surprise, she was concerned. She then told me to call her as soon as the doctors knew what was wrong and if I couldn't physically call her I was to have the doctors call her and tell her what was wrong. Then she offered to come visit me at the hospital if I had to stay overnight there. I told her I would probably be fine and then she told me "Alla, ann, kaa bidoam." It means "No, you, you are my child."

I understand that to many people this means nothing and really I am only my biological mother and father's "child." But, just knowing that I am a part of a family so far away from the family that I grew up with and the culture that I know, really meant a lot to me. Of course, in reality, she probably wouldn't have come visit me, whatever. The fact that she said I was her child means so much to me, an outsider, it doesn't even matter. I felt accepted--like I belonged. Something I haven't really felt amongst Senegalese.

I did end up getting better. My friend thought I might have malaria---I DON'T! It was just a virus and I am recovering. It was actually kind of funny that I got sick almost as soon as I wrote my last blog entry about not wanting to come home. When I was sweating out the 102 temperature and my entire body ached, let me tell you, I would have gladly accepted a ticket back to the States. Thankfully, I had access to the wonder-drug Cipro.