2 posts tagged “hiv/aids”

Can’t believe I haven’t written since Saturday…
Before I try to catch up, I wanna mention some exciting news – Jessica and I are leaving on July 26th and we’ll arrive in the States on Sunday the 27th! Originally we were planning to leave on August 2nd, however at the rate our work is progressing, we realized that we will have completed our interviews, surveys, and house visits by next week. After that point, any extra days we spend here will be eating up our money via costs of accommodations, transportation, food, etc…. not to mention how every day means another day for Greg, our parents, Sumi, Epiphanie, and the rest of the ZOE staff to worry about our safety and ensure that we have something to do each day. Having already visited the game park, planning to spend this weekend in Kigali, and seeing the gorillas on the 25th, there aren’t many major attractions that Greg and Epiphanie think we should see before leaving (or at least, any that would require us spending an extra week here when we could be home). So I’m really happy that it’ll just be about a week and a half before I’ll finally be home since May! Yayyyy!
Ok, here it goes...
In the morning on Sunday we went to a Baptist church with the mission team from the U.S. Just like the Presbyterian church we went to before, it wasn’t a huge church, no more than 100 people, and half of them were constantly singing and dancing. It was very overwhelming – I was caught between wanting to jump in and go crazy with them, and just watching silently in awe of the dozens of men and women of all ages who looked impossibly happy. Most of the time I was watching these two little girls. Neither of them could’ve been more than two years old. One was wearing a polka dot dress and was clearly going to be an amazing dancer in a few years; she could already clap and stamp her feet perfectly in time while singing and spinning around. The other was named Benita. She was wearing a pink dress and didn’t leave my and Jessica’s laps the whole time. They were both too adorable. How old do you have to be to legally adopt kids?
That afternoon we visited two homes that ZOE has built for orphan-headed households. Both of them were immaculate and they’d clearly cleaned up knowing that visitors would be there. Greg showed them video footage he’d taken during his last visit and they went crazy whenever they saw themselves on the video. Every child and adult here has had the same reaction when we take a picture of them – they want to see it immediately. Very few of them have mirrors, so to see an image of themselves is a real treat. Coming from a place where we take pictures on a regular basis and look in the mirror countless times a day, I can’t even imagine how curious they are to see their own face frozen in time.
The community where these homes were cooked a feast of rice, beans, and cassavas for us. We felt too guilty to take much food though so we took very little and gave most of it to the children. There was one girl who was handicapped whom we made sure to give extra food to because she was clearly an outcast and had last-pick. While the other kids were running about playing with each other, she was sitting off to the side on the grass with her head ducked, avoiding eye-contact, trying to conceal how one leg and one arm was abnormally small. In the States, it’s so fortunate how handicap-accessible public places has become a norm – and if you don’t agree, you need to see how much of a struggle life is for those with handicaps in most of the rest of the world, especially here in Rwanda. She is not only rejected from her peer group, but even her own family. She explained how her parents decided when they want to feed her and when they allow her to sleep in the house. So, Dad, next time you joke about doing that to me, it will NOT BE FUNNY! :)

Monday we visited the National Museum of Rwanda located here in Butare and we (along with the US team) spent 2 beautiful hours in the giftshop. I wish I were kidding. But trust me, it was worth it – the best quality stuff for the best prices. We found stuff there that we haven’t seen anywhere else, and apparently Jess was able to buy gifts for her entire family (meaning like all 1895745 people) for about $100. True story.
    Also at the museum, a group of traditional dancers and singers put on a special performance for us, which was INTENSE. The guys especially were pretty hardcore with their spears and shields, jumping high in the air and landing in lunges that could not be good for your knees (chya, as a runner, I’m one to talk). The best part came at the end when they pulled us into their group and had us mimic their movements. Before I got dragged off, I captured a few seconds of Jessica dancing on video which is SO coming out at her wedding. Greg, if you got me on video, I’m ordering you to delete it NOW!!!
    Afterward we visited a construction site where the community was working with ZOE to build a home for a Giving Hope orphan that I got to interview the next day. At the beginning of our interview, he told me how afraid he was because he thought he wouldn’t be able to answer many of the questions since he didn’t have a place to live. He has been wandering from house to house in the community begging to sleep on a neighbor’s floor; otherwise he sleeps outside. Imagine not having a place to belong to, no place to come home to, for years… and now dozens of people in your community are building a house for you. He didn’t even have to say how ecstatic he was – anyone could see it.
    Another boy we visited had put so much effort into ensuring that he had a respectable home for himself and his sisters – a cow, chickens, toilet, kitchen, good doors… He was so proud to show us everything. The story about his older sister was unbelievable. She is mentally challenged and disappeared for three years; her brother had no idea where she was. And when he found her again, she must have been raped because she was pregnant. She vanished for a few days again, and when she came back she was no longer pregnant. Did she miscarry? Did she give birth and give the baby to someone else? Did she abandon it in some unknown place? To this day no one knows what happened to the baby.
    
    On Tuesday and Wednesday, we did more interviews and surveys in the Huye district. Nothing particularly notable happened… aside from maybe our lunch at The Chinese Restaurant. Yep, it’s seriously called “THE Chinese Restaurant,” and I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the only one in the country. The great part was that it was about the most un-Asian restaurant I’ve ever seen. The decorations were Caribbean/Rwandan/Christmas (?) style: Caribbean being the straw shacks that housed a couple booths, Rwandan being the antelope horns on the walls, Christmas being the two fake Christmas trees in the middle of the room and red lights shaped like strawberries hung between the horns and a wooden mask. They say only rednecks keep their Christmas lights up all year long but… guess not, haha.
    Oh yeah, Wednesday we had a kinda exasperating day at work. It was much like what happened our last day working in Gitarama when twice as many orphans showed up than should have. Epiphanie has selected specific heads of households whom she believes collectively give an accurate representation of the orphans within the community that Giving Hope has assisted. We don’t have enough time to interview all of them even if we wanted to, nor have we brought enough gifts for all of them. Receiving the gifts after being interviewed seemed to be the main reason why so many extra people came hoping we’d interview them. They don’t realize, however, that this is taking advantage of our time and our translators’ time. Jessica had almost completed an interview before we realized that orphan was not supposed to be there. When we both spoke to the entire group and told them that those not invited had to leave or else no one would be interviewed or get gifts, it still took over half an hour of pleading before some of them admitted they weren’t invited and left.

    Work today went much more smoothly. We only had six people and they were the most friendly, patient, polite group I can remember working with so far. They seemed to be very connected with each other - laughing, talking, and playing together like a pack of happy school kids while the others were being interviewed. They were also very honest; today was the first time I’ve heard an orphan admit that he doesn’t always abstain from having sex. Although I do believe that they do recognize that abstinence is the best way to avoid getting HIV/AIDS, I find it hard to believe that out of a group of the 60 or so people we’ve interviewed, only one of them ever has sex since joining the Giving Hope program. This might seem to be a pessimistic assumption, but I think it’s pretty reasonable.
    After lunch, our translator Marta took us to the marketplace to shop for some “Africana cloth,” as we call it. We felt very safe with her because she’s a very well educated, street-smart woman and she definitely understands how American tourists like us operate. I did mistakably whip out my camera at one point and get swallowed in a mob… JUST kidding! This marketplace experience was much better than the last – no hassle, and we found really pretty pieces of cloth for like $4 each that we could make into dresses, bandanas, tablecloths, basically anything… Well, at least I thought the two I picked out were pretty, but Martha looked at one of them, gasped, and exclaimed, “What? WHY do you want to buy that?!” Ouch!!! Hahah I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. We just might wear them to work tomorrow ‘cause we know Martha, Olivier, and the orphans will get such a kick out of us muzungos trying to pull off the Africana look!
 

    Today was our last day working at the construction site with the U.S. team. Today, like the other four mornings this week, we woke up as the sun was rising, wharfed down some breakfast, and hit the road… well, if you can call it a road. The two-hour bus ride into the countryside is an experience in itself. After the first five minutes, there is no pavement and no smooth stretch of road for more than 10 feet. It’s impossible to do anything like read, eat, or write because anything will fly out of your hands as we hit a pothole or some random object every five seconds. It makes Duke Transit feel smooth as ice (for anyone who’s ridden a C1, you know this is a bold statement).
    So there’s nothing much to do but look out the window, which fortunately turns out to be more fascinating than reading or watching a movie. Stories move all around us: groups of women balancing loads of goods on their heads trek to market; little children fascinated by our white skin chase our van and holler “muzungos!”; a boy leads his blind grandfather down the treacherous road; Epiphanie points out churches where people were rounded up and slaughtered 14 years ago… Every second, another lifetime of hope and suffering passes us by – thousands of lifetimes that will go untold.
    All these people move in front of the most breathtaking backdrop of terraced mountains, traced by red-dirt paths that spiral up to the top. This stunning vista reminds me of Tuscany, or the never-ending farmlands in the English countryside. But if you look closer, you won’t see ancient manors-turned-bed-and-baths; you won’t see bikers and picnickers leisurely enjoying the soft sunshine. Instead, small mud huts dot the fields and skimpy fences made of twigs and straw barely contain starved farm animals. If you see sunlight glint on something shiny, it’s not a rental car carrying carefree tourists planning their excursions for the day. That glint reflected off a thin tin roof that leaks during the rainy season and lets in malaria-infested mosquitoes that snatch lives daily. Exhausted, sweating men and women hike to-and-from their homes and markets carrying the weight of their week’s work on their heads, their children on their backs, and the world on their shoulders.  
    After two hours of soaking in these surroundings, we finally arrive at the construction site. Dozens of men, women, and children gather round to watch us jump out from the van wearing our sneakers and hiking boots, sunglasses and work gloves, waterbottles strapped into backpacks – essentials to us, unreachable luxuries to them. We greet the leaders, smile and wave to the children, assess the progress made since yesterday and get to work.
   Thursday I was hauling bricks until my wrists started to give out. Some of you may have noticed that I have weirdly thin wrists, so one wrong twist forced me to ease off (especially since it was my left wrist, the one I broke/sprained a couple years ago). I resorted to taking pictures and playing with the kids, but Friday I was thrilled that there was work to do besides hauling bricks – laying mud on the bricks! Hooray! Haha, yeah, the variety we got here is shocking, right?
    I was feeling pretty productive but we only got to work for about an hour before half of us went back to the hotel to catch up on some much-needed sleep. At first I didn’t want to leave so early, but when we slept for four hours straight, I had no regrets. The other half, though, had an amazing house visit. They went to the home of a boy whose orphanage had closed down four years ago and was now living in a space too small for him to lie down in, half of which was taken up by a rabbit hutch. This boy had no idea that he was one of the orphans for whom we’re building a house. Apparently he was in absolute shock and couldn’t stop showing how happy and thankful he was. Probably a good thing I missed it ‘cause I doubt I would’ve held myself together witnessing that kind of happiness.
   It reminded me of the house visit we had on Thursday, when we visited the home of a woman with HIV/AIDS whose daughter and adopted daughter were caring for her since she was too weak to leave the house. Her eyes looked so sad and desperate, but light that filled them when we gave her enough money to pay for the next two months’ worth of food for her and her daughters. She had no idea we were going to do anything more than come and observe her troubles. I am so happy ZOE has ensured that we are not having the kind of experience known as “misery tourism”; foreigners observe a country’s problems and identify the needs, but make no effort to change the situation. I have a big problem with that. Even though raising awareness about issues like poverty and AIDS is important to do, I would feel completely helpless if I hadn’t found a way to help. (Thanks again SO much to ZOE and the DGHI!)
    Jess and I made a valiant effort to go out running yesterday. It took about 30 seconds to realize that it was a really bad idea. EVERY person looked at us – especially the men. The way they were eyeing us, you would’ve thought we were jogging in bikinis. We finally found a path that went through a deserted field. Hmm…why was this field deserted? And why was it reeking? Oh yeah, because it was a LANDFILL. And why was there a big hole emitting thick black smoke? Because the landfill was on FIRE. Yeah, we were literally running through a dump, breathing in toxic fumes. Terrific. We tried to run along a different path away from the fire pit, and then realized we were running through a creepy cemetery on the edge of a forest from which any homeless bum could jump at any moment. We stopped, looked around for any other options, looked at each other…and laughed. It was just hopeless. We went back to the hotel and did jump-rope, crunches, and lunges. I think I felt a single bead of sweat at one point!!!
    Seriously though, it’s so frustrating not to be able to run or work out much. I can’t remember a week in the last few years when I haven’t been running a few times at least. It’s my favorite sport and pastime – I run when I’m stressed, when I’m happy, when I’m sad, when I need to take a break or make an important decision… I run before or after something big happens, I run to feel good, to tire myself out, to challenge myself…sometimes I just run for no reason, if I’m bored. Or I’ll run if I have a thousand things to do and need one more way to procrastinate. It’s a big part of my life, but like many things, “you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone.” Now that I can’t go running, I’m starting to realize how much harder it is for me to keep a level head, to find ways to de-stress when I need to. And during these weeks when I’m seeing heart-stopping things every day and constantly venturing outside my comfort-zone, this is when I need stress-relievers the most. I thought running a lot made me strong, but now I wonder if it’s just an easy way to cover up my weaknesses.
    We arrived at the site today shocked to see half of the tin roof up and the walls about ¼ of the way finished. It was also the first day that I was positive the vast majority of the locals were participating, not just watching. I felt the most productive I’ve been so far, learning to catch and throw handfuls of mud across the length of the house. I was so proud when the workers would pull out two people and put me in there. Then they taught me how to flatten the side of a brick with a mini machete, and when one of the workmen held it up to show his companion, I could probably feel my head get bigger. I wish I had a picture with that brick ‘cause I’m sure I was beaming like it was an Academy Award.
After working for a couple hours, Jessica and I went to play with the hundreds of kids watching us on top of the hill. We showed them hand-games, passed a football, played volleyball without a net, and passed out stickers to hundreds of eager hands reaching up to our noses. A chorus of voices chirped, “please, please, please!” the whole time, as if we were distributing gold.
    Since this was our last day working, we had a small meeting with the Giving Hope orphans and thanked them for letting us come to work with them and praying that God will protect them in the future. They in turn thanked us for our contributions and asked us questions about life in the United States. As we said goodbye, Epiphanie announced that Jessica and I will return later to visit them even after the U.S. team leaves, which I hadn’t realized. It felt good to be able to honestly say, “See you again soon!” I remember saying the same thing to so many children in the Dominican Republic and Paraguay and I still wonder if I told them the truth.

p.s. Two things that make me laugh every time: 1) Seeing people walking with bushels of hay on their heads so thick that you can’t see their heads; they look like creatures from a storybook, or walking trees. 2) Rwandan outhouses that consist of holes in the ground inside huts with cracks for windows. Looking at that hole is terrifying because I KNOW that at any moment some monster is gonna pounce out of that hole and I’ll die in an outhouse. Or not be able to have children.