I sit here
in my apartment on my last Sunday morning in my village, and I am wondering why
I feel so strange. My symptoms have been persistently obvious, as careful as
I’ve been. Why didn’t I realize that this was happening?
I caught an
infection. I think it’s chronic. How did this happen?
Have I been contaminated from the morning greetings from these people?
Is it the consumption of unprocessed food, or tomatoes straight from the ground?
Did the
bakery make me sick?
Was the Peace
Corps a steroid for the past two years?
Could the animals seen on the safari make me sick?
Are my children tainted as well?
Was a curse from the witch doctor placed on me?
The
children, that could be it, un bathed, under nourished, bright smiled, curious;
all those hugs, touches, that could have passed some cardiac bacteria.
Yes, I am
infected with Africa. Thank you Peace Corps.
Ps.
“Maryangela’s Venture to Mozambique as a Peace Corps Volunteer” has spread this
infection to 13,000 views over the last two years. Thank you for sharing this illness with me,
continue to check in to see my treatment, remember it is chronic and will
require many years of treatment.
“Peace Corps volunteers around the
world work with communities to strengthen local capacity, facilitate cultural
exchanges and build relationships that last a lifetime.”
