THE GHANA CHRONICLES: And the World Started to Spin: 6/22/23

  

After the morning warm-up, Kofi gave a little talk acknowledging that usually around this time, people started to get sick. In fact, the first two Orff Afriques had some edgy moments with a few people having to go to the local hospital with severe vomiting and diarrhea. I mean scary symptoms. And the last one, there was not one or two severe cases, but some 20 or 25 mild ones. Kofi kept talking about the different levels of sickness and finally, worried that the gods were listening and we were tempting fate,  I blurted out, “But THIS time, not a single one of us will get sick!”

 

An hour later, near the end of my first class, I noticed the world starting to spin whenever I moved my head. I paid it no mind, but it got worse and finally, told the group I think I needed to go lie down for a bit while they went off to do a group composition project. Two people asked if they could walk me back to my room and in fact, I couldn’t have done it alone, as the world continued to spin and spin in a way I never experienced before. They got me to my bed and Kofi’s oldest daughter Jennifer, our resident nurse, came to look at me, followed soon after by three local doctors, Sofia and James. 

I was present enough in my mind to crack a joke about my symptoms of dizziness, saying, “Like that ceiling fan up there seems to be spinning around!” Meanwhile, Jennifer checked my vital signs, the doctors took some blood to make a blood test and I began to vomit into the proffered bucket. Not a lot, but apparently enough to expel the culprit of some mysterious food poisoning and after some sleep, I awoke an hour or so later feeling fine. Good enough to walk the few hundred yards to the office to turn in some laundry, past the elective class I was supposed to teach that had been ably taken over by one of our Brazilian guests. The group applauded when they saw me and I joked:

“Actually, I wasn’t really sick. I just needed some attention.”

 

Then, “I think the Gods were angry that I dared to suggest we’d escape sickness, so they targeted me to show who’s boss. I took one for the team! Hope you all appreciate it.”

 

It actually was as good an explanation as any, since no one else who ate the same breakfast got any food poisoning and there was nothing edgy that I ate. Just a fried egg and some bread and peanut butter. It’s possible that I got the one bad egg, so to speak, but who knows? The fact is that I felt 100% recovered with a mere couple of hours.

 

But the drama continued a bit, as back in my room, I took off the bandage from the back of my hand where they got the blood for the test, and blood spurted out all over the floor. The staff came to clean it, but the next time I entered my room, the bathroom was flooded. So there was clearly some minor vengeance or trickster energy from the gods. No matter. 

 

I vowed not to say anything about nobody being sick until after the trip was over and I didn’t. But as far as I know, no one actually did get sick. A record!

 

That night the Nunya brass Band and choir played and that was a delight, as always. Though I still dream of bringing some New Orleans musicians to teach them some brass band music NOLA style. Maybe someday.