Those who know me (or read this blog) know I am inclined toward hyperbole, but it is no exaggeration when I say this is the WORST sickness I have ever experienced. Somewhere between Ouarzazate and the village visit with high school students I contracted an alien bacteria that has made the last few days miserable! On the first day I was not feeling well but discussed the need for balancing cultural sensitivity and hygiene. For instance, we are invited to a modest one-room apartment where it is not clear that a bathroom is even included in the layout. We know lunch is the plan, but aren't sure when...then our host presents a tagine from a kitchenette down the hall. Suddenly, bread is being torn and handed to you, the tagine is uncovered, it's fabulous, your host lovely and generous, you are hungry, you are the guests, you need to dig in, we are all sitting on the floor in this small space...it is really awkward to bust out the Purell hand sanitizer and scrub up before eating. It isn't part of the ritual. We don't want to embarrass our companions or make them think we think the place is dirty. It is a subtle territory to negotiate and there are certainly ways to be both hygienic and polite...but in that situation we chose polite OVER hygienic.
Somewhere around hour 17 of writhing abdominal cramps, splitting headache and fever chills I did think that upon further reflection, I would spray myself with lysol if it meant avoiding THIS! Luckily I am coming out of it just in time for class tomorrow, but it has been...a journey.