Sticky Rice

Bianca Palese, 134 TESS

The silence in the morning that I once longed for is now an unsettling reminder that my best friend is not home. She’s not home when I open my bedroom door to start my day or playing with blocks in the living room when I return from school. She doesn’t bang on my screen door yelling “Pi Pah! Ma gin kao!” at dinner time or tell me where to sit so I can watch her go down the slide. Instead, she’s resting in a hospital bed in our amphur (district). And I’m right here where she left me. 

Madell got sick slowly, so slowly that I thought she must just be one of those kids who is always a little ill. At two years old she’s a bit temperamental anyhow. The crying doesn’t mean anything is wrong, it could just be that you looked at her too long or she saw a large bug. However, when my host sister told me that Madell had a fever I had a bad feeling. I told my sister, Gee, that one of my fifth graders was absent today because he had come down with dengue fever. The school had called in the health department to spray around each of the buildings as we spoke. My counterpart tells me that in previous years they’ve had students die from the infection, a loss I pray I won’t have to experience here. But the mosquitos have gotten pretty bad as of late. I didn’t really notice them before but now it’s uncomfortable to be outside in our open-air home. That night, Gee swatted mosquitos off of Madell with extra fervor and apologized profusely to her crying baby for the smacks. It was too late though. Two days later at two in the morning they brought her to the hospital where she was diagnosed with dengue. 

When I woke up that Sunday morning I had a text on my phone informing me of what was going on. I came out of my room and Madell’s older sister, Madee (7), was sitting playing on my host dad’s phone as he stood anxiously staring out onto our yard. My host dad is your typical rock-and-roll, shirtless, beer-drinking, Isaan dad. I’d never seen him like this: stoic, on edge. Madee hung out with me in my room most of the day, and once the sun began to set my host parents packed a picnic basket and we all drove to the hospital to have dinner as a family; like we always do. 

When we arrived at the small hospital it had begun raining. I entered the room and saw Madell laying in a zombie-like state on the bed, an IV drip hooked up to her tiny little hand wrapped in bandages. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and sat down next to her bed. “She ask for Pi Pah all day,” my sister tells me. Madell broke her gaze from the cartoons on the TV and stared at me teary eyed. The longer she stared, the more I began to break. In that moment I wished the mosquito had bitten me instead. I remember when I was little my mom used to tell me to look up at the sky so the tears can’t fall down if you’re trying not to cry. So I looked away, up at the ceiling, trying to hold it together. Madell’s dad cut in to sit her upright, and while she cried in discomfort I helped my host mom set up dinner on the floor. All eight of us in the family sat and ate our small feast together like any other normal night. It was sweet. When it was over my dad escorted me across the puddles in the parking lot with an umbrella, and we drove home in the downpour.

I thought the hardest part of being in the Peace Corps was the loss of independence, or maybe the language barrier. Maybe long-distance relationships or something like that. Anything but this, this feeling that is both tenacious love and melancholy desperation. It is a true testament to the bonds we make with the people around us as volunteers. Bonds that remarkably transcend language and culture. I’m in a privileged position to get to experience that, even when it hurts. 

Days went by and nothing changed, not even the weather. It never stopped raining, and my heart felt flooded like the streets. I went to work, I visited her, and we all sat around waiting for good news. I can only write this all out now because today Madell was discharged from the hospital, smiling and laughing. I don’t know if it’s a coincidence or if there really is a God, but the sun came out today too.

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Read Bianca’s previous articles and contributions.