Early in December my buddy, Marco, fell and hurt her leg. There was no open wound, but in the following days she became very sick. I sat with her on December 9, while her mom went to a neighboring village to find a bush doctor. Marco was lying on a foam mattress on the floor inside their house. I sat on the porch and helped move her mattress outside and back inside trying to keep her as cool as possible. I could tell at that point she was very sick. She was a normal looking nine year old, and had lost close to ten pounds in less than a week. She was helpless and probably pretty annoyed with me for trying to get her to drink water every two minutes.
Beta returned a few hours later with the bush doctor. I sat on the porch as he rubbed oil on her leg. I finally had to leave because it was too hard to see my friend in that much pain. I have seen my momma upset when I have been in pain, and in that moment, I understood a little better as to why. I love Marco and it upset me to see her in pain and so helpless.
On the morning of December 11, I sat with Beta for a minute before Shannon and her parents arrived for their visit to Malobi. Marco could barely talk and was totally helpless. I watched as Beta sat behind her and propped her up while she attempted to fee her noodles. Later that afternoon, Shannon, her parents, and I were sitting with my neighbor Kayen. Beta came over and told Kayen that she needed him to take her and Marco to the clinic a few villages up river. (Kayen is the school boatman). Beta looked worried. Kayen said he would take them, so Beta tied her nine year old child on her back because she couldn't walk, and they left.
Beta came back to Malobi the next morning. She and Marco had been sent from our nearby clinic to a clinic down river. An America doctor was there that day, and said that Marco needed to be flown to the city. Beta put her on a plane before she returned to Malobi. Beta's sister was going to pick Marco up when she arrived in the city.
Beta received word that night that Marco made it to the city, and that she was going to have teeth pulled the next morning. After talking to Beta, I found out that Marco's body was full of infection. Beta was worried, and so was I. However, I was filled with hope at the thought of her being in the city and at a hospital. I spent that afternoon thinking of hugging Marco and making her popcorn when she returned to Malobi. I absolutely could not imagine my life in Malobi without that bubbly child.
I woke up at seven o'clock a.m. on December 13 to the sound of screaming coming from Beta's house. I heard Beta and a few other women crying the night before and it turned out they were just extremely worried. Something told me this was different. I made myself get out of bed and walk over despite my fear of finding out what I didn't want to find out. When I saw a lot of women standing outside of Beta's house, I knew what had happened. Marco died the night before. I never thought my villagers would see me cry, especially not like that. There were close to fifty women standing in and outside of her house. The girls Marco's age, on their way to school that morning, stopped at Beta's on their way to the river. They didn't make it to school that day. They wept for the loss of their friend.
I walked into Beta's house and hugged her. We cried and embraced for a few minutes before I sat down. I sat at her house for a couple of hours and decided I was never going to stop crying if I didn't leave. I went back to my house and called a few of my close PCV friend, and then I called my momma.
As my mother told me how sorry she was, I was once again reminded of what it feels like for someone to love you so much that they hurt when you hurt. I was experiencing a wide range of emotions at that point. I was sad because Marco is gone. I was an angry American. I was angry with their culture and the way they do things. In her heart, Beta truly believed she was doing the right thing by telling the bush doctor and having him come check on Marco, but it didn't help. I was a thankful American. I cannot imagine ever becoming that sick and my mother waiting to take me to the doctor. I played the "what if" game. What if she had gone to the city a few days earlier? What if I had told Beta how much I thought Marco needed to go to the doctor sooner?
As my mother spoke words of comfort and wisdom, I was calmed a little. She told me how hard infection throughout one's body is to fight even in America. She told me not to be judgmental of their culture, (I thought I was the Peace Corps Volunteer) that we don't know how long she had been sick before this. Maybe an infection is what caused her to fall and not the other way around. She said maybe others in the village would look at this situation and potentially do things differently in the future. She was right. Playing the "what if" game is never productive and never good in a situation like this one.
Marco was buried in the city on December 17. I still have trouble believing that when I return to Malobi tomorrow, Marco will not be there to greet me with a hug. I will never hear her sweet voice call my name again. It's hard to accept. I don't know what it feels like to live in Malobi without her. So, as I start this new year, I start a new chapter in my Peace Corps service.
I think every Peace Corps Volunteer has thoughts before they depart for their country of service of "What if something happens to a family member or friend?" "What if someone in my family dies?" At least I asked myself these questions. I never once thought that I would be here for seven months and have to deal with this. I never imagined I would grow to know and love folks in my village and have to deal with their deaths. These are the things they don't tell you when you apply to be a Peace Corps Volunteer. These are the things I didn't think about before coming here.
"Those little things? Those little moments? They aren't little."
-Steven Potter
