Sisters, big and little

My apologies, once again, for my absence from the blog-o-sphere. It turns out that the "same old case of semi-annual Allie Bronchitis" was actually my first ever case of the flu, and boy, was it nasty.

It has been an AWFUL past couple of days- high fever and terrible chills, non-stop coughing, body-aches, nausea, headaches, etc etc etc. When I've been lucky, I've been able to sleep for several hours at a time to get some respite from the pain and discomfort; when I've been not-so-lucky, I've made tearful and fearful Skype calls to my parents, terrified that I was totally alone, so far away, and in so much pain.

Luckily, my fever broke yesterday, and I am finally starting to see the light at the end of this horrible sickness tunnel. Thank goodness for my parents who passed the baton of 24-hour "Allie skype duty" back and forth, our US Embassy Doctor friend Mark who provided Skype consultation re: medication and symptoms, and MJ, who checked up on me every few hours via G-chat and text messages.

Surprisingly, though, that's not all. In the past 48 hours, my apartment has seen more visitors than it has seen all year. Chi Hang has been wonderful and really lived up to her title of "Chi" ("Big Sister") by bringing me meals in bed, doing the dishes that had been piling up in my sink, taking me to the doctor and pharmacy, and checking in on me every few hours. She delegated a few of my more active students to be my "little sisters" and to also check on me every few hours via visits, phone calls, and text messages. I have now received four bags of oranges (even for someone who absolutely LOVES oranges, that is a hell of a lot of fruit to consume before it goes bad- and I don't even love oranges thatmuch!) as get-well gifts, and have received plenty of text messages from students and faculty, all of them expressing how worried they are about me.

Being "alone" in another country, it's really easy to forget how not alone I actually am. There are plenty of people here in Ha Tinh who care so much for me and want me to be happy, healthy, and successful. That being said, today in particular has been a bit difficult in balancing some alone-time for quiet rest and recovery with playing host to all of the visitors who keep dropping by at inopportune moments: while I'm sleeping, while I'm cooking dinner, or while I'm showering. Each time, the visitors sit down in one of my chairs and tell me, "Go back to what you were doing! Don't let me bother you!" While the gesture of visiting and trying not to disturb my activities is extremely thoughtful, I am not going to go back to sleep with a visitor sitting two feet away from me, nor am I going to get back in the shower and then re-emerge in a towel.

At our Pre-Departure Orientation in Washington DC, we were warned by Emma, one of the Vietnam Fulbrighters from last year, that Vietnamese people have a totally different idea of sickness than we do. As Americans, we want to lay in bed, be tended by our mothers or one other trusted, loving figure, but generally be left alone to have quiet time. Apparently, this degree of independence and isolation when sick is INCONCEIVABLE to Vietnamese people, who think that the infirm should be the center of a great big hullabaloo.

I have found Emma's warning to be entirely accurate and have been struggling with remaining grateful for all of the love and attention while politely (but firmly) explaining that I really would like to go back to showering in an empty apartment or could just use some peace and quiet to cook dinner without having to narrate to an audience what I'm cooking, what it tastes like, what we call it in America, how it differs from Vietnamese food, why I'm cooking it like that and not like this, etc.

This same imbalance between "let me have some freedom!" and "we just want to show you our generosity and love for you!" is present in so many other every-day interactions that I totally recognize that there are simply many different ways of showing love, depending on which culture you're in. At family-style Vietnamese meals, I get so disproportionately enraged when people take food from the serving plates and put it into my dish with no regard for "Are you actually still hungry? Do you actually want seconds of this one particular item in this particularly generous quantity?" (Imagine politely forcing something unappetizing down the first time, thinking "Phew! I tried it and hated it, but at least I showed them that I was willing to be polite and eat it. Now I can fill up on everything else and not eat any more of that!" and then sadly watching more of that same unappetizing item appear on your plate.) I've explained several times to fellow diners that in America, we prefer to serve ourselves so that everybody can eat the items (and amount) that they want. This explanation has been well-received by a few of my coworkers but has mostly just baffled people. You mean you don't want us to show our generosity to you and demonstrate how welcome you are to eat as much food as possible? They must be thinking.

In that same vein, when I try to explain that I'd like some alone-time to cook dinner or take a shower, they must be thinking You're sick! You need someone to help you! I would like to help you, please let me be of service to you!

So, always striving to think dialectically, I can say with total and genuine appreciation that people here have been incredibly generous and well-meaning and thoughtful and helpful during the past 48 hours, AND I also miss the comforts of being sick in a familiar place where Mom will put you on the couch and let you watch TV all day in peace and quiet, but also be willing to bring you anything if you ask for it. There, how's that for a dialectic?

In any case, I'm finally starting to feel better and made it to the final step that I consider to be the best part of being sick: getting better and being able to clean, dispose of, or replace everything that was touched while sick. I replaced my toothbrush, cleaned my thermometer, washed all my dishes, changed my sheets, threw out balled-up tissues and empty medicine wrappers, put all sweaty pajamas in my laundry bag, and generally cleaned my entire living area to make it habitable for a healthy person once more.

Of course, my mom is quick (and right) to point out that "just as you’re starting to feel better, this is when you’re most susceptible to relapse. So, even if you’re feeling better, be very guarded and careful about not expending too much energy and overdoing it. Much better to coddle yourself and treat yourself gingerly for a few days more, even if you’re feeling good. Trust me on this – a relapse is worse than the first bout!"

Good point, and proved itself ever-so-true when I went to the market today with the ambitious goal of buying vegetables and making my first real meal in days. Halfway through dinner, I realized just how little energy I have and had to rest before finishing. Ok, ok, ok: baby steps to recovery, but at least they're steps in the right direction.

Now, it's time for an early bed-time (days where you sleep until 4 in the afternoon are quite exhausting, afterall!) accompanied by some episodes of Friends and Matterhorn, a new book that I just downloaded on my Kindle and already love.

So goodnight to all, and thank you for the well-wishes and good vibes for recovery