Sick and Sultry

For a long time after arriving here in Argentina, I cursed all of the winter clothing I brought. The jacket I gladly jammed into my (borrowed) traveling backpack, the scarf I haphazardly flung in the back of the wardrobe, the WOOL sweaters I used as pillows...all of them mocking me as I slept in a room reading 94 degrees. Well, I take back my blasphemous insults and proclaimed hate towards clothing manufactured for warmth, because today I´m wearing everything I own.

In a matter of days, it went from hot hot hot, to warm days- cool nights, to chilly yet not necessary to put on more than a long sleeve shirt, to me fetching the scarf from the depths of my clothes storage, to me moving the table in front of the heater in a wool sweater, scarf, and tights just to type this. That glorious tan that I raved about will be non existent; just in time for summer in The States. Lounging poolside is no more. (Though I do sometimes peer out the window at the blue hole, drained of its summer debauchery, as if to say I miss you). I knew it was going to be winter at some point during my stay, but I was misled, and confused. I got here with the notion that it would have already been cold...but no. Argentina deceived me, lured me in with it´s taunting sweltering days and large mosquito's- the ones that only the hottest of summer days and nights can bring- and now- stolen right from beneath me.

The best part, and by best, I do mean ironically worst part, is that as soon as the weather changed everyone got sick. Working with 30 children who have constant nose drip isn´t a problem anymore. I fear not lice, I fear not boogers, because for these I have solutions! Larva and Lice shampoo, and Day Quil. Get out of town, Cautious Courtney came prepared. Not only this, but I´m an avid vitamin taker complete with echinacea goldenseal. I was preparing for the storm, ready to watch everyone else drown as I floated by on my wooden door from the Titanic. Apparently the common cold doesn´t give a shit what kind of precautionary measures I took. It waited until my always alert immune system turned its back and launched itself at me, full speed, like a male dog to a bitch in heat.

Fight or Flight quickly kicked into action as I nearly sprinted to the ¨Kisoco¨ for some orange juice and a gallon of water. Being a firm believer that orange juice cures everything when you´re sick, I drank the entire half gallon yesterday. Well, I can´t say that I feel that much better, but I don´t feel worse. In reality, it´s just a tickle in my throat, (not a scratch or a frog, but a tickle) and and a runny nose. I just can´t take the chance of falling ill before my vacay. I have wine to drink while biking through the land- maybe even some glaciers to see. I would rather not do this with said tickle in my throat or snot running down my lips and me be too numb (either from the cold or the booze) to not notice and be the American-Snot-Faced-Girl.

With this, I am off to down some more vitamin c, perhaps pump some water into my body, and get down to planning the vacation.

Oh, the good thing that has surfaced from my throat condition: I have developed this kind of sultry, sexy, deep, voice. Not quite mannish, maybe more transsexual style. Either way, when I speak to my host family, I sound pretty exotic and a little frumpy!

Ciao.