Malaria

Well, according to the responses to the "welcome to Africa" post, I have come to the conclusion that satire does not transcend all cultures. So, I offer to all those that I offended my apology. I will be the bigger man in this misunderstanding. I, JT Snitch, solemnly swear to never make light of the puerile cultural stereotypes that the predominance of the American public has of Africa. My heart is heavy and my hands are numb knowing that I nearly breeched a line of no return. Enough lies, on to the important issue at hand.

It has happened. Much to the dismay of the RN at Passport Health, who administered my immunizations before deployment to Rwanda, I deferred taking the malaria medicine prescribed and ironically enough, it has come back to bite me on the keister, literally. Last Monday, I was snagged on the rump by a malaria infected mosquito. Consequently, I now have malaria. It is awful. If you don't know what malaria is, I really should spare you the details, but because you asked, I'm going to give you the basics behind the symptoms just to mull over. The first symptom of malaria, and in my opinion the most complicating, is the loss of all your teeth. Yes, that's right, I have no teeth. It is a bit frustrating at times, but I'm learning to adjust quite rapidly. I've made up a few different fabrications in attempt to explain my lack teeth to my students, but none have stuck just yet. The loss of teeth symptom is one reason why many malaria infected regions of the world eat a lot of simple starches; this type of food tends to melt in your mouth and which in turn simplifies the mastication process, or lack there of. Speaking of overcoming the odds, I've always looked up to people who have overcome major, life adversity. I think this might be the reason why I am attracted to women with hearing aids.
The second symptom of malaria is the instantaneous growth of chest hair. This is where things got a bit sticky; the symptoms weren't matching up. I checked my mane, but it wasn't growing. Considering my already ample amounts of chest locks, I did not notice a significant growth in chest hair, but, embarrassingly enough, it is possible my chest was already well satiated. Strike that "embarrassingly", my flowing mane is a source of dignity, of manhood, of self-worth. In one event, while sunbathing on the Jersey coast, a chicken's breastbone was thrown onto my chest. I woke up, looked behind me, and shouted to a couple sitting around a table eating dinner.

"What's with the bone, Clifford?"
"Ohh excuse me, I mistook your chest for a majestic dog's coat."

At this point, there were only two options in my head as to why I had no teeth: I figured it was either the altitude change or the nineteen spoons of sugar I put into each cup of African tea. Nevertheless, a toothless me was completely justifiable in my mind. And as far as the chest hair goes, I saw no significant growth, but the idea of maxed out chest hair follicles never crossed my mind. I was in the clear, that was until yesterday. Cravings, cravings, cravings. I have been having the most bizarre cravings of my life. Originally, I thought my cravings were due to cross cultural travel; I have heard that theory from a number of sources, attributing the onslaught of cravings due to a lack of 'normal,' cultural food. I was craving ridiculous things, things like hot dogs with ice cream, cream cheese omelets, and pizza with blackberry spread. It was only after the pizza and blackberry spread craving that I noticed the third and most prolific of all malaria symptoms: pregnancy.