It's hot now. Freakin' hot. I remember the days of Spoleto, over 100 degrees Fahrenheit and humid in Charleston, working at the prop shop, ending the days with a dip in the Atlantic. Or not. Sometimes, merely ending the days with a cold shower and an air-conditioned room. But those days always ended with a refreshing coldness of some kind.

Here in Botswana, the heat is killer. The hot breeze blasts like a hair dryer, the sun beats down relentlessly. There are too few trees to provide shade, and the houses retain heat and bake their contents like dough. In the US, one can escape the heat: ice cream, iced tea, air-conditioned cars, air-conditioned stores, air-conditioned homes. Here, some stores have a/c, but the most accessible respite is the shade. No one (except the expats and the very rich) can escape the heat.

Last week, I was working outside, and became very very ill from the heat. I have never before vomited just because my body could not handle heat, until now. Ke mosadimogolo. I was ill enough to not only leave work early, but to ask for a ride home. (This was upsetting because I was ACTUALLY working for the first time in 18 months, building Ditshego's house.) I absolutely could not walk the 20 minutes to my heat-infused sweat-box. Once home, I remained ill another 28 hours. After my 8th regurgitation of all the water and oral rehydration salts I'd attempted to ingest, I decided that if there was a 9th regurgitation, I'd head to the hospital 5 minutes away and ask for a saline iv. Luckily, there was no 9th incident that day. I slept with 5 frozen water bottles, which all melted long before dawn, despite my fan churning away on its highest setting. Well, after the power came back on. 2 cold baths helped only a little, even when adding ice. Until the water went out. To shake off the heat the next day I went to Selibe-Phikwe as usual, for my weekly yoga class, which I was actually still too ill to teach. Instead of staying with my usual PCV friends, I crashed with an American expat, who lives a high-class lifestyle. (Not really; it's actually pretty standard, for an expat; but classy to a poor PCV like me.) His swimming pool and a/c saved me. I honestly do not believe I would have recovered so quickly had it not been for those luxuries and that kindness.

I will never, ever complain about winter again.