Rachel's Reflections

How much trouble can sleeping-in cause? When you're sick, your body needs extra sleep, right? No big deal... Unless you're house sitting and no one can get ahold of you and your friend panics. The shrill bark of the dog woke me up. I rolled over and turned my phone back on. I had turned it off to save battery since I had forgotten to bring my phone charger. I stared at the screen in shock. It said 9:02am. It couldn't be, I had to meet someone at 8:00, and the house help needed to be let in. It couldn't be that late. My phone must be wrong. Then Gracie called. I could hear the panic and relief in her voice. Panic because she hadn't been able to get a hold of me. Relief because I had finally answered my phone. "I need to call everyone back and tell them you're okay," she said. I sat on the edge of the bed, groggy, the phrase bouncing around in my mind. Call everyone back ? Apparently, the house help had been knocking at the gate and trying to call my pho

Imagine maneuvering a car around m iniature canyons carved into the dirt road by the heavy rains. Imagine the car dipping and bucking with the rise and fall of the road. You hope the murky water filling the depressions doesn't hide a  depth detrimental to your car. Why attempt such a drive? I had gone a week without visiting Mama Z because of the rain and I longed to see her. The visit made the drive worth it. "See you tomorrow," I said as I left their house, "and I won't forget to bring the Bible and the Evangecube." Joy filled me that they had made not just one, but both requests. Mama Z wanted to show her husband the Evangecube  (see  https://racheljwmk.blogspot.com/2021/11/evangecube-curiosity.html  for previous story), and Papa Z wanted  a Portuguese Bible with big letters so he could read the old testament. I woke up the following morning, however, with a headache. A few days earlier I'd had a debilitating migraine so I decided not to risk driving

My fear grew as the familiar receded in the rearview mirror of my car. I focused on the dirt road ahead, flanked by a motley of trees and bushes, fading off into the unknown. Mama A sat next to me. She wanted to get medicine for herself and her two kids. Apparently, the central hospital hadn't helped. The idea that I had unknowingly agreed to take her to a 'traditional healer,' (someone who mixes plant medicine with strange spiritual practices), increased with each tree I drove passed.  When Mama A told me to turn right, my breath caught in surprise. An arch with catholic images confronted me. Relief flooded in as we drove down the quaint paving stone lane draped in greenery flecked with pink flowers .  Mama A went to the consulting window. I sat in the outdoor waiting room: stone benches spread under the sprawling cashew trees in front of the catholic compound. A kaleidoscope of bright capulana fabric captured my attention.  Reds, blues, pinks, turquoise, yellows, oranges,