lumière des étoiles

well that's painful too
2004-05-24 12:27 p.m.

"It's really nothing to be scared of especially if you have ever gotten a bikini wax."

So says a pal who's been living in Botswana for the last year when I emailed her about getting a Rabies vaccine, which, contrary to a friendly disagreement I got in with some friends at various clubs this weekend (see last entry and all that) DOES EXIST.

Checking my pretty little "INTERNATIONAL CERTIFICATES OF VACCINATION as approved by the WORLD HEALTH ORGANIZATION" (and I'm only including the whole thing because something about the extended title is just so...African*), I recall that what I do have running through my system are vaccines against typhoid, Hep A, meningitis, and Yellow Fever. They're good for ten years, so that's that. I do not feel the need to get Hep B, nor does my doctor feel I should - if we were doing any health-related volunteer work, it would be essential. But we're not. So the big question is, do I go through a rabies vaccine?

Some say yes, some say "wha?", some seem to not believe in a rabies vaccine's existence. I know better, though - it's very real and takes a series of shots over two months, so I must decide immediately whether or not it's worth it. I looked into percentages of people who get rabies when traveling through Kruger NP or Chobe NP and it was like 0.0000005% or something like that. But what if we decide to wander up to the cheetah sanctuary during our 4 day stint in Jo'burg? What if I feel like picking up all the stray cats I find, like I usually do? What if, like Ghana, Botswana or Zambia have goats wandering the streets - mean goats who try to take your kebabs from you?

Oh I'll just linger on that for a bit. I'll decide tomorrow.

It's been "right place, right time" for me these last few days. I happened to randomly be at the tech school where I teach making photo-copies of maps and our passports (oh hush we all use the copier for non-work related things) when my director asked me if I could teach a summer class starting next week and ending when the others that I'm already teaching do. Not only does it fit my schedule, but it's what I just taught, so I'm all ready to go with course content and syllabi, etc. So basically, it was like someone wandering into the mail/copy room saying "Hey Theresa! How are you? Say, would you like an extra few thousand dollars that you weren't counting on for six weeks of easy work?"

So YAY. This trip was already so paid for when I got summer-session course #2, which I wasn't expecting. So to get #3 is just a sign from the Heavens that I must never, ever ignore my intuition, and that yes, things do work out if you just have a little faith. This is all a very sweet reward.

We got home late from my b-day party, but I was up early nonetheless. I had a lot of fun and was really happy everyone managed to make time for me on a Sunday night. Sundays are odd for birthday parties, but Michael couldn't make it until yesterday and neither could Julie or Jen, so I just put things off and found a day when everyone could just hang out for a bit...because what's a party without Michael, Juile, or Jen? I'm really glad they were there last night. I wasn't expecting a big thing, or gifts, but I was pleasantly surprised by both. I got the most beautiful dress from my friend Andrew; it's really nice when you realize how well your friends know you and your taste (and your size! Bravo!) Sam and Amy decided last night that we should see Supersize Me sometime this week, and I made a promise to go to a bar after Thomas' bagpipe practice on Thursday. I love this time of year - I spend a lot of time with the people whom I love most; I have the time to, because I have a break from teaching for a few weeks, and I have the drive to, because I won't see them for a month and a half once we take off from New York. It's as nice to be away experiencing new things as it is to miss your friends and your family, and remember why home is home.

I'm starting up my packing list and song list, which I think I'll post here soon for memory's sake.

xo,

*Many African countries are notorious for their ridiculous, pretentious, self-important gov't institutions, with names to match. One may have to, in other words, get a series of FIVE STAMPS and an essay written in their passport before they're allowed to cross the border from oh, say GHANA to get into TOGO. The border patrol might have a particular "Master Minster of Visa Stamps" and then an "Assistant to the Master Minister of Visa Stamps", and other various positions that are so obviously made up (albeit taken very seriously by those in said position) you can't help but laugh.