Town: living near the summit of Monrovia's tallest hill with easy access to a fifth floor roof, makes the city feel a bit more pocket-sized. So does realizing that roads I thought were crawling off in different directions turn a corner and join ends. Fortunately, it's easy to maneuver Monrovia on foot without feeling threatened, being followed or even being too aggressively whistled, hissed or kissed at. It's been raining and gray for a week; whenever that lets up, I hope to get some rooftop shots.
Malaria: I don't think I've ever caught malaria so far in advance of its own thriving. Everyone I've spoken with gauges with different indicators. I have about 3-5% too much energy, around my whole system that doesn't come from exercise, caffeine or enthusiasm and that I do not control. If it holds steady for more than four hours or if it ratchets up a little bit; I'll go to a lab. So, yesterday, in a lab smaller than our bedroom, I got my unremarkable diagnosis. The only difference this time, is that I'm doing the responsible thing, public health wise. Whereas I'm accustomed to taking Fansidar or Artesunate--easy, painless, no-fuss treatments for Malaria, which also contribute to drug-resistant malaria--I'm now taking the combined treatment which includes Amodiaquine, a drug with a reputation for draining and unpleasant side-effects. So far so good.