Not Homesick, Just Sick

When you spend two years in a foreign country it is only a matter of time before you come down with some kind of sickness. I was lucky enough to skirt through winter with just the occasional sore throat and a runny nose. Unfortunately for me, my luck ran out last week and I was bed bound with a disgusting infection that had me shivering in my bed with a fever of 102F. For some reason I, like most people, become entirely useless when I am sick. I lie in my bed daydreaming about being well and thinking how much I hope to never feel so uncomfortable again. Well, thanks to the Peace Corps medical kit and my wonderful host mom I was quickly sedated by the power of non-aspirin and chamomile tea. 

The other bad part about being sick while away from home is somehow gently letting your family back in the US know that you are feeling slightly under the weather. Of course, like most overly protective parents, my dad responded in the most paternal way he knew how, having a minor freak out wherever he was reading my Facebook message and demanding more information about my symptoms, and why on earth I was not booked on the next flight back to the US. After trying my best to calm him, I resolved that next time I get sick I will only inform him of this after I am in fact well again (It’s for your own good, Dad). I tried to gently remind him that hot soup and tea are pretty much the same wherever one is in the world. And, with a  host mom like mine I can assure him that the homemade soup is certainly better than the watered-down Campbell’s I had been serving myself the past four years when I had gotten sick at school.  

After a few days of temperature fluctuations I had myself on a pretty good routine of every six hour pill in take. I was finally deemed well enough to travel into the big city, Chisinau, to fetch more supplies and to have a few tests run to make sure it was nothing serious. I must say, riding a rutiera (mini-bus) on non-aspirin, Sudafed and, Dramamine is a loopy sort of endeavor. But, I found myself there just fine and plopped myself down in the medical apartment and spent the next two days in a daze caught between sleep and waking. One of my good friends was also at the medical apartments so she played a good little surrogate parent, making me eat my meals and hydrate myself. All in all it was actually quite a pleasant stay in Chisinau. It was my first time at the medical apartment, that place is nice. A real bed, a hot never-ending shower, a full kitchen and a big living room, the only thing it was missing was a flat screen TV and Chinese take-out.

When I was finally deemed well again I was allowed to go back to Nisporeni. It had been a long week and I was looking forward to getting back. I realized on my ride back that I was happy to be getting back to Nisporeni, it is my home here. I have been living in Nisporeni since November but, it always takes some time to adjust before you feel comfortable. I realized I have felt comfortable for quite some time now, and it’s always a feeling of relief when I get to return after a long time away. That’s the way a home is supposed to feel, a place of comfort and a feeling of belonging. I was happy to sit down that night for a cup of tea with my host mom and chat about the weeks we had, mine in the capital and, hers at work. Yes, I had spent the week sick but, I was no longer homesick. I have a home, here in Moldova.