October 25, 2010 § 2 Comments
I should be Frida Kahlo for Halloween. Saturday’s brawl with the caulking gun is surely going to leave a scar, just along the unibrow line. But at least it provides a glimpse into a Moroccan housewife’s confidential book of cure-alls. I still had the black pepper blotched on my forehead at surfing. When I got home from the beach, my new furniture was neatly arranged along the wall of my bedroom. Sometimes life, in its exquisite banality, can make the simplest things exceptional. I never knew that a desk could be a miracle; a smaller bed could be a sensation, and floor space a gift. Even if my writing evinces my excitement, it would be impossible for you to understand just what an upgrade my new arrangement is without having seen the old one. It’s infinitely better.
Yesterday I spent the day with Lisa buying vegetables and preparing them for dinner, studying the days of the week in Arabic, going on a run, and in general just hanging out. Then after dinner, as though by lightening, I was struck with a massive headache. There’s never a convenient time to feel ill. I had promised our friend Yassine, who has an interview for film school in Amsterdam, that I’d help him with his English and interview skills. Head throbbing, I wasn’t the resource I’d hoped to be, so we agreed to meet today.
During the night, my headache proliferated like a YouTube video, and I woke up this morning feeling nauseated, blacking out, and feverish. I’ve been bedridden all day, though slightly comforted that I’m bedridden in a comparatively organized room. Aoufiya’s remedies make another appearance. This time, she brought in a tray with pomegranate, tea, and a brown bread. Later on, when I was feebly trying to sleep, she came into my room with a mug full of herbs and stuck them up my nose. I think some of it was lemon balm. She said she’s going to make me a tea with it later, and remains steadfast to the claim that I get sick whenever I don’t eat at home.
Time for more rest.