Breakfast with a side of tears

So, it’s completely true that all emotions get heightened when in a foreign country.  The mountains are just a little more beautiful than any I’ve seen in the States, the tortillas are a little (or a lot) tastier, and being sick is a whole lot worse.

I’m not sure where the sickness came from.  There are a lot of options.  It could have been something I ate (likely), someone I came into contact with, or a reaction to the Rabies vaccine (my host mom’s explanation).  Whatever it was, it was less than fun.

After a common medical session on Tuesday all about Diarrhea and illnesses we can get, I woke up Wednesday with stabbing pains in my right side.  I immediately had visions of getting my Appendix out in a Guatemalan hospital, without being able to understand a word anyone was saying.  But, I laid still for a few  hours and the pain went away.  However, that was the start of a week of not being able to eat and sleeping 12-16 hours a day.

My breaking point came when, after a weekend of getting to know my bed very well while everyone else in my town was at our Feria (ferris wheels, games, street food, bumper cars, so much fun), my host mom gave me breakfast.  Again, I couldn’t eat and she asked if I didn’t like her food.  I told her I liked it very much and I wanted nothing more than to eat.  Then, she asked what I was going to tell my Spanish teacher when she asked what I did at Feria and I wouldn’t have an answer for her.  I lost it.

I bumbled through some Spanish trying to explain that I like her family, I like her food, and I like doing fun stuff.  And if I could, I would have done all of it.  I just didn’t feel well.

Later that day, I had eaten half of my lunch and I was ready to apologize to my host mom for breaking down.  I thought through everything I was going to say.  I got through about half of it and she laughed at me and told me to sit down for dinner.  It was delicious.