I’m laying on my bed, my temporary bed, made of 3” foam with wooden slats, and I’m thanking God that it is my temporary bed, and not my permanent bed. I am going home tomorrow. Home certainly means more to me now than it has in a long, long time. Maybe more than it ever has. I am so grateful for my home, not just my house, but that place where I belong…that feels like home…
Like I’ve said previously, I’ve spent a lot of time while in Africa trying to figure out what I can do to help the situation here—I am a fixer by nature, I prefer to fix a problem, as opposed to just empathizing with you over the problem, and I really just keep coming back to one notion…empowerment…in so many ways, but it seems that the basic need is for the economy to get going here…people need to make money. So I’ve done a crazy thing, and I’ve gone into business with several single mothers who are caring for orphaned and vulnerable children. I am currently in the jewelry business! They make absolutely beautiful jewelry, each unique and handmade, and then they have no place to sell it. I have many, many friends who wear all kinds of jewelry, and are always looking for a unique, lovely piece. So I figure that maybe I can put the two together, and we can make a difference, in a small way, for a few people (but in their own lives, it will be a HUGE difference--I bought beads from one woman, and it is going to allow her son to go to University for the entire year...WOW!)
The women in Uganda make beautiful paper bead jewelry, and it is lovely. I have also seen some beautiful beaded jewelry, and I have learned that the beads comes from Nairobi, sold every week at the local market, where Kenyans come from all over, and bring their handmade beads to sell. The women I am going into business with, have no means in which to get the beads, so you guessed it…I went to Nairobi and I am going to get them set up in business. When we told the driver where we wanted to go, he tried very hard to persuade us that the local market was not a place that we wanted to be…it is dangerous for Mzungus, he said. I told him that I had to go there, regardless, so he said, “Well then, I guess I will take you there.” He proceeded to give us all kinds of instructions regarding who to talk to, who not to talk to, etc. I had done an internet search and already read up on the proper way to negotiate and bargain. I have tended to just pay full price while here, but I have learned that doing that is actually an affront to them, they consider it good practice to negotiate, love to get animated, upset, etc. and they don’t take it personal in the least, they just want everyone to be happy in the end. So I put my game face on, and dragged my unwilling family along, and went to negotiate for beads.
I started out by very firmly informing the men who greet you at the market, and want you to gather everything you want, and then they will negotiate a price (and take most of the price), that I was quite capable and willing to negotiate my own prices, thank you very much. I also quickly realized that I needed Tim to carry the money, and stay far away from me, so that I could bargain them down prior to him coming along, and sort of play a good cop/bad cop routine.
Let me just say that I had the time of my life. I alternated between having a great time, and being nervous and scared, felt like I was performing a show, wanted to be careful to pay a fair price, and came away with bags of beads. I would begin by asking them how much they wanted, then I would give a fairly loud “humphf”, and inform them that while I may be white, I had lived in Africa now, and I wanted the local price, not the Mzungu price. To which they would all inform me that they had given me the very best price they had to offer. Then I would inform them that it was too bad that was their very best price, because it was a terrible price for me, and I was unhappy. They didn’t want me to be unhappy did they? Oh no, what price would make me happy? To which I would respond with a ridiculously low price, and they would loudly “humphf” me back, and thus the dance would begin. We would haggle, negotiate, throw in items, take them back out, I would show them the money, walk away, make a sad face, say please in a whiny voice (they really like that one for some reason), I would inform them that I didn’t want their children to go hungry, but neither should they ask me to pay such a high price that my own children would go hungry—to which they would howl with laughter, and usually, we would come to an agreement on a price that was at least half of what they started with. I would always then ask them if they were happy, they would ask me if I were happy, we would smile, shake and go upon our day. We took four hours at the market, but I think I have a great supply of beads that can be the start of something wonderful for these ladies. They are so excited…and truthfully, so am I.
If any of you are interested, I have brought home lots of paper beaded necklaces, I am going to send back the profits to these ladies to help invest in more things like a paper cutter, various tools and jewelry making supplies, and my hope is that by making a living wage, they will be able to feed, clothe, care for and send to school the orphaned and vulnerable children that they have taken responsibility for. If any of you have ideas or leads on getting the jewelry into stores, email me! My hope is that I can provide a market for these women.
Tim didn’t make it home with us, we parted ways in Amsterdam and he is headed for Mali and Senegal, while we have headed home. We miss him, I feel for him, he was ready to come home, but this trip needs to happen, and it is so much cheaper to fly from Amsterdam, so he went…we are on our final leg of the journey, an 11 hour flight from Amsterdam to San Francisco…a stop at In and Out Burgers, and then a two hour drive home… I have one more Africa story to share with you (maybe more, who knows). I have had to de-worm the family…oh joy, that is a direct result of embracing the "Africa Adventure", of eating the cooked chicken off the side of the road, of playing in the dirt, with all the joys, there is a price to pay…and we are paying! So the worms have died, and they are now making their way out, in the only manner in which they can make they way out…enough said. TIA!
The best advice I can give you all (not that anyone asked me for advice…), is to cherish what you have, and count your blessings. I received a wonderful quote this week, that is very appropriate for me, and oh so true! Contentment is not the fulfillment of what you want, but the realization of how much you already have.
I have arrived at home, spent last night in a clean, wonderful bed; I was clean, my kids were clean, the bed was so lovely and soft…hmmm….it was wonderful… I am now finishing this writing up, sipping a cup of tea. Life is good, I am surrounded by the familiar, all is the same, but I am different… I will never be the same, and I never want to be the same. I want to feel my responsibility for the privileges I have; I want to share Lillian’s message; I want to help my fellow sisters make a living; I want to share in the collective responsibility of mankind to provide for the children of this world the opportunity to thrive, to be fed, to have love and care and hope for a future; I want to reach out and help others, to share the load, to bear the burden, to do what I can do, to be a drop in the bucket…I truly do realize how much I have…more than enough...enough to share...
Thanks for sharing this journey with me, instead of it ending, I have a feeling it truly has just begun. I will blog at this location occasionally, so check it every so once in a while if you want—let the adventure continue! Love to you all!
Ciao,
Cheri
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Women and Politics
Women and Politics…rumor has it you are not supposed to talk about either, and guess what; I’m going to talk about both in one blog!
First, let me tell you a few things that happened this week. We had someone try to break into our house while we were home. Once again, I think I must have a slightly twisted family, because for the boys, this was maybe the highlight of their week (unless it was catching a man cheating playing pool and confronting him, or the gigantic cockroach in the soup pan). Anyway, our guard was on the ball, and our family had about three knives and willing attitudes should the potential burglars decide to actually climb the fence. They spent quite a bit of time trying to convince the guard to open the gate, then they started throwing rocks, but that was as scary as it got.
We had the distinct privilege of travelling to Lira this weekend to look at another children’s village project that Assist has been involved in. It is called Otino Waa (which means our child in the local language), run by some wonderful people from Oregon, Bob and Carol Higgins. Carol had decided that we were probably ready for some home cooking, so they had us to their house for dinner. It was spectacular. That woman knows how to cook, the kids were in heaven. She had a pot roast, twice baked potatoes, and cinnamon rolls as the bread! Then she made a delicious homemade chocolate cake for dessert. We even had ice we could use. We ate and ate, it was so good.
The next morning we went out to a ceremony to celebrate the 100th protected spring that they had put into place. People, if you could see the before and after pictures, it is incredible. They have a water hole, that is used for drinking, animals, bathing, etc. and it is pretty gross. However, Bob and Carol have designed a way to protect the spring, and clear, cool water now runs out into a cement holding tank. Water to drink can be filled directly, and then the animals can go down lower and drink, thus not contaminating the water. This only costs $1000 to protect a spring, and it literally saves many lives, and improves the general health of an entire village. The village that received their 100th protected spring was a village of people who had just recently returned to their homes from the IDP camps (Internally Displaced People), due to the rebel activity and political unrest in the area. Their first crops have not even matured yet, they are very, very poor, very sickly, and yet know they have clean water to drink. Bob and Carol’s group is going in there this week to de-worm the entire village, and they hope it will drastically improve the health for these people.
When we arrived, they had music going, women dancing, children laughing, they had decorated the spring with flowers and bushes, and the joy in these people’s eyes was unbelievable. I couldn’t help but get tears in my eyes, as I think of the simple, basic things here, that when given, are so greatly appreciated. What Bob and Carol are doing is truly amazing. The celebration lasted about three hours, and I wouldn’t have missed a second of it for the world.
I want to tell you about a woman I met in Lira, at the celebration. Her name is Lillian, and she is a District Representative, in political power, quite a feat for women in Africa. Women in Africa basically have no rights. If their husband wants their money, he takes it, and beats them if they don’t give it to him. If he’s tired of being married to her, he divorces her, takes everything, and doesn’t haven’t to care for his children at all…she has no recourse through the law. If a man wants her seat, she sits on the floor. She works day and night, endlessly, and has no power whatsoever. If she is raped, she is outcast. If her husband dies, his family kicks her out of the family home and takes absolutely everything, leaving her with nothing. It is truly a desperate situation and I feel passionate about the need to empower these women, because I truly believe it is one of the things that is holding this continent back. When I think about what women do for our society in America, and then realize that women in Africa basically cannot contribute in that way, well, the men here need to get a clue, and believe me, when given the chance, I have been quite outspoken and let them know what I think about how they treat the women-I'm sure this surprises anyone who knows me-ha! (of course, when confronted, they all agree with me and blame other men, never themselves).
Now politics here are also a crazy thing. It is very corrupt. There are many reasons for the corruption, but it really holds the people down, and makes them feel powerless because there is such little accountability. Millions of the dollars in aid that comes through governmental channels is not funneled to the areas promised, but rather pads the pockets of politicians. In Uganda, where in the North, they have been terrorized for years and years by a man who is just pure evil, named Joseph Koney, I was asking why the government hasn’t gone in there and wiped him out a long, long time ago. Interesting to hear the opinions... One is that the past president came from one of the tribes being terrorized, and he wasn’t very good to the current president’s tribe…so there is no real motivation to help out. Another even much more interesting note is that the President’s brother has the trucking contract to truck all of the UN food aid up to the north in the IDP camps…a contract worth millions of dollars a year. Are you now getting the picture?
So back to Lillian, first of all, it is quite a feat to be a woman in political power, she has a dynamic personality, and she is very warm, caring, and intelligent. At the water ceremony, she turned to us and she spoke directly to us, and she said, “I have something I want to ask you to do. Please tell your government, tell any of our government you meet, and tell the world, that while we are so grateful for this gift of clean water, which will save countless lives, what we really need is a chance for peace. If we had peace, then we could stay on our land, work hard and improve our lives and our situations, but without peace, we can do nothing. So please tell the world that we just ask for peace.” Anyone out there listening? Do you know how easy it is to email your congressman and urge him stand up for peace in the Sudan/Uganda/Congo area? These countries all meet up in the North, and this is where the unrest is. So please, take advantage of our ease of communication, our freedom to express ourselves, and send an email to your congressman, senator, and President urging them to do all they can to bring stability to that region of the world. Lives depend upon it. I have already, and I will continue to, because I feel like I owe it because I live in a society where I am equal, where I have rights, where I can get a clean, cold glass of water whenever I want… and I owe it to my new friend Lillian, a woman who doesn’t ask for much.
Ciao,
Cheri
First, let me tell you a few things that happened this week. We had someone try to break into our house while we were home. Once again, I think I must have a slightly twisted family, because for the boys, this was maybe the highlight of their week (unless it was catching a man cheating playing pool and confronting him, or the gigantic cockroach in the soup pan). Anyway, our guard was on the ball, and our family had about three knives and willing attitudes should the potential burglars decide to actually climb the fence. They spent quite a bit of time trying to convince the guard to open the gate, then they started throwing rocks, but that was as scary as it got.
We had the distinct privilege of travelling to Lira this weekend to look at another children’s village project that Assist has been involved in. It is called Otino Waa (which means our child in the local language), run by some wonderful people from Oregon, Bob and Carol Higgins. Carol had decided that we were probably ready for some home cooking, so they had us to their house for dinner. It was spectacular. That woman knows how to cook, the kids were in heaven. She had a pot roast, twice baked potatoes, and cinnamon rolls as the bread! Then she made a delicious homemade chocolate cake for dessert. We even had ice we could use. We ate and ate, it was so good.
The next morning we went out to a ceremony to celebrate the 100th protected spring that they had put into place. People, if you could see the before and after pictures, it is incredible. They have a water hole, that is used for drinking, animals, bathing, etc. and it is pretty gross. However, Bob and Carol have designed a way to protect the spring, and clear, cool water now runs out into a cement holding tank. Water to drink can be filled directly, and then the animals can go down lower and drink, thus not contaminating the water. This only costs $1000 to protect a spring, and it literally saves many lives, and improves the general health of an entire village. The village that received their 100th protected spring was a village of people who had just recently returned to their homes from the IDP camps (Internally Displaced People), due to the rebel activity and political unrest in the area. Their first crops have not even matured yet, they are very, very poor, very sickly, and yet know they have clean water to drink. Bob and Carol’s group is going in there this week to de-worm the entire village, and they hope it will drastically improve the health for these people.
When we arrived, they had music going, women dancing, children laughing, they had decorated the spring with flowers and bushes, and the joy in these people’s eyes was unbelievable. I couldn’t help but get tears in my eyes, as I think of the simple, basic things here, that when given, are so greatly appreciated. What Bob and Carol are doing is truly amazing. The celebration lasted about three hours, and I wouldn’t have missed a second of it for the world.
I want to tell you about a woman I met in Lira, at the celebration. Her name is Lillian, and she is a District Representative, in political power, quite a feat for women in Africa. Women in Africa basically have no rights. If their husband wants their money, he takes it, and beats them if they don’t give it to him. If he’s tired of being married to her, he divorces her, takes everything, and doesn’t haven’t to care for his children at all…she has no recourse through the law. If a man wants her seat, she sits on the floor. She works day and night, endlessly, and has no power whatsoever. If she is raped, she is outcast. If her husband dies, his family kicks her out of the family home and takes absolutely everything, leaving her with nothing. It is truly a desperate situation and I feel passionate about the need to empower these women, because I truly believe it is one of the things that is holding this continent back. When I think about what women do for our society in America, and then realize that women in Africa basically cannot contribute in that way, well, the men here need to get a clue, and believe me, when given the chance, I have been quite outspoken and let them know what I think about how they treat the women-I'm sure this surprises anyone who knows me-ha! (of course, when confronted, they all agree with me and blame other men, never themselves).
Now politics here are also a crazy thing. It is very corrupt. There are many reasons for the corruption, but it really holds the people down, and makes them feel powerless because there is such little accountability. Millions of the dollars in aid that comes through governmental channels is not funneled to the areas promised, but rather pads the pockets of politicians. In Uganda, where in the North, they have been terrorized for years and years by a man who is just pure evil, named Joseph Koney, I was asking why the government hasn’t gone in there and wiped him out a long, long time ago. Interesting to hear the opinions... One is that the past president came from one of the tribes being terrorized, and he wasn’t very good to the current president’s tribe…so there is no real motivation to help out. Another even much more interesting note is that the President’s brother has the trucking contract to truck all of the UN food aid up to the north in the IDP camps…a contract worth millions of dollars a year. Are you now getting the picture?
So back to Lillian, first of all, it is quite a feat to be a woman in political power, she has a dynamic personality, and she is very warm, caring, and intelligent. At the water ceremony, she turned to us and she spoke directly to us, and she said, “I have something I want to ask you to do. Please tell your government, tell any of our government you meet, and tell the world, that while we are so grateful for this gift of clean water, which will save countless lives, what we really need is a chance for peace. If we had peace, then we could stay on our land, work hard and improve our lives and our situations, but without peace, we can do nothing. So please tell the world that we just ask for peace.” Anyone out there listening? Do you know how easy it is to email your congressman and urge him stand up for peace in the Sudan/Uganda/Congo area? These countries all meet up in the North, and this is where the unrest is. So please, take advantage of our ease of communication, our freedom to express ourselves, and send an email to your congressman, senator, and President urging them to do all they can to bring stability to that region of the world. Lives depend upon it. I have already, and I will continue to, because I feel like I owe it because I live in a society where I am equal, where I have rights, where I can get a clean, cold glass of water whenever I want… and I owe it to my new friend Lillian, a woman who doesn’t ask for much.
Ciao,
Cheri
Thursday, July 26, 2007
On the Road Again
It’s been a long while since I’ve blogged, and so much has happened, I don’t even know where to start. We have travelled more in Africa on the roads than we do in the United States. I am loving it, we have seen so much and accomplished so much, the boys get tired at times of the driving, but the experience they will never forget.
We left a week ago Saturday to take the River Ranch Church Team on safari for a few days. That was such a treat for us. The first day, after about a 12 hour drive, which included a minor bus accident in which our bus hit a semi-truck on the side and knocked a window out, shattering glass all over one of the women in the group (it was either that or hit a woman on the side of the road…a VERY close call), we arrived at a lake and got in old wooden boats and crossed over to a small island, where we stayed in “luxury” tents (ha ha!) Each tent was in a beautiful secluded wooded area…did I mention we arrived after dark? Each tent was lit by lovely candles, it was very eco-friendly and had no electricity…did I mention we arrived after dark? We had lovely eco-friendly restrooms as well (the kind that have no water to flush, etc…we call them outhouses in the United States). I have to admit, we were all looking at Tim and wondering what he had gotten us into. There were some very game people along (you see, I’m used to Tim and when he had said luxury tents, I knew what he probably meant…the others…well…they’re used to him now!)
The next morning I will admit that we woke up to a beautiful view of the lake, it was very exotic. I took a shower outdoors, because that was what was offered…at least I started the next day clean.
We next headed for another “short” drive to Queen Elizabeth Park…and good news, Tim found a short cut, so the drive was only going to be 2-3 hours. TERRIFIC! Another eight hours later, we arrived at Mweya Lodge, having seen many beautiful back roads in Uganda, met many local people (as we asked them for directions), experienced a plethora of potholes, we relieved ourselves in a hole (I have an entire philosophy here in Africa that I call my “Liquid Management” plan, and I will say, I was the only person out of 19 that didn’t have to pee in a hole…the plan is working…maybe if I market it right…hmmm…) We arrived at Mweya Lodge. By this time, I think Tim realized he was about to be voted off the island, so he was sweating bullets, and Mweya Lodge was his ace in the hole…they really pulled through. We arrived, hot, tired, sweaty, and covered in red dust…did I mention this shortcut didn’t involve paved roads? They had a lovely cold wash cloth for each of us, passion fruit juice, and the Lodge was lovely. We quickly forgot our journey and basked in the relative luxury of the next two days. We woke up very early the next morning to get out in the park while the animals were active and eating breakfast. As we were leaving in our Land Cruiser (there wasn’t enough room in the safari trucks, so we sent Bransen with the group, because he had never been on safari and was excited to stand up with his head out of the roof of the vehicle!) we had a knock on our window and a fairly frantic couple from Sweden asked if they could squeeze into our car because theirs had broken down and they wanted to go out to see the animals…of course we scooted over and had a lovely morning looking at animals and working on international relations!
On Tuesday, we left our team to head back to the airport, and we continued on to the border and crossed into Rwanda. Rwanda is a country that is scarred by the massacre of almost 1 million people of the Tutsi tribe, by the other predominant tribe in the country, the Hutus. This massacre happened while the world slept, only 14 years ago. Now, they are trying to repair their nation, not only physically, but emotionally and spiritually as well. I went to Rwanda six years ago and you could feel a sadness and darkness in that land as soon as you landed on the plane. I was SHOCKED at the changes that have been made since I was last there. Rebuilding is everywhere, hope is everywhere…it was truly, truly impressive and so wonderful to see. We went to the Millennium Village projects, assessed three hospitals, met some truly wonderful people, and headed back for Uganda late in the afternoon on Thursday. We had decided that we would drive for a few hours, instead of making the 14 hour drive all in one day. All went well, until we somehow missed the turn to our hotel for the night, and realized it was 36 km back. That is WAY too far to turn around and go back on Uganda roads, so we decided to push through to the next city, another 70 km away, and hope for the best. By this time, it was about 8 p.m., we had no lunch, the kids were hot, tired, thirsty, hungry, and grouchy…honestly, I was grouchy too…and emotional…even worse. I saw a goat that somehow reminded me of my little dog Bronte whom I haven’t seen for 8 weeks now, and I burst into tears and sat in the car crying because I missed her…that went over real well in a car full of boys…no sympathy for me, I was put on notice that I needed to suck it up and act like a man…hmmm…anyway, we had a general family meltdown, finally arrived into town, followed signs to the first hotel that was advertising, our thinking being if they had enough money to advertise, they can’t be too bad…and they weren’t. The sheets looked clean, they were serving a late dinner, and we ate and all fell into bed exhausted around 11:45 p.m. At which time, a group of Mzungu’s planted themselves literally two feet from our bedroom window at tables outside our room, and laughed and visited for almost an hour. We told them they were trying to sleep, so they took it down a notch, but it was literally like they were sitting in our room, so even with them talking quiet, they didn’t realize that we could hear everything they said.
We got back to Jinja, all is well, there’s so much that could be said. Chase left us yesterday to head back home…I already miss him. It is symbolic of his life right now, he is going to be leaving the nest, and no one told me how much it was going to hurt! Today we deliver the fish out to the children’s village. We are really excited. They are doing great, growing big already, and we have worked out a solar power system that seems to be working. I will be so excited if this idea works out, it really will be about six months before we know if it becomes profitable, because that is the time the fish will start reproducing, and also the time they will be big enough to sell at market.
I have been collecting stories of the children that are living in the village…after a while, I begin to almost get numb. Story after story of children whose parents died, or one parent died, and then the other couldn’t care for them, they were hungry, beaten, abused, with no place to live, and then taken in by tremendous people, who even though they don’t have the resources or room, they welcome them. I met an adorable mother named Sarah Waisana, and when I say adorable, I mean it…she is so cute, 8 months pregnant with her ninth child (only her third biological). Sarah and her husband David just keep taking in children who need a home. They live in a house that is probably 1000 sq. feet, with 11 of them, and they are thrilled, they feel so blessed. Their home is well kept, they have beautiful plants and vegetables growing, they are truly amazing people. I feel privileged to know them.
Our time here is winding down, and while I am THRILLED to be going home, seriously the thought of sleeping in my own bed, and taking a warm shower, and washing clothes in a washing machine brings me almost to tears, I can also say that the thought of leaving here makes me feel sad as well. I’m a problem solver by nature. I want to fix the problems that are here, but I realize that these problems are so big, have been here so long, that help given is a drop in the bucket. However, every drop counts, and at some point, it only takes one drop for the bucket to overflow. When I look at Irene, or Anna, or Mercy, or Richard, or Sylvia, and think about the fact that someone in America is a drop in the bucket, sponsoring them so they can have a hope and a future, I realize that each drop is a person, both here and there, and every drop is precious, every life is priceless…let it rain!
Ciao,
Cheri
We left a week ago Saturday to take the River Ranch Church Team on safari for a few days. That was such a treat for us. The first day, after about a 12 hour drive, which included a minor bus accident in which our bus hit a semi-truck on the side and knocked a window out, shattering glass all over one of the women in the group (it was either that or hit a woman on the side of the road…a VERY close call), we arrived at a lake and got in old wooden boats and crossed over to a small island, where we stayed in “luxury” tents (ha ha!) Each tent was in a beautiful secluded wooded area…did I mention we arrived after dark? Each tent was lit by lovely candles, it was very eco-friendly and had no electricity…did I mention we arrived after dark? We had lovely eco-friendly restrooms as well (the kind that have no water to flush, etc…we call them outhouses in the United States). I have to admit, we were all looking at Tim and wondering what he had gotten us into. There were some very game people along (you see, I’m used to Tim and when he had said luxury tents, I knew what he probably meant…the others…well…they’re used to him now!)
The next morning I will admit that we woke up to a beautiful view of the lake, it was very exotic. I took a shower outdoors, because that was what was offered…at least I started the next day clean.
We next headed for another “short” drive to Queen Elizabeth Park…and good news, Tim found a short cut, so the drive was only going to be 2-3 hours. TERRIFIC! Another eight hours later, we arrived at Mweya Lodge, having seen many beautiful back roads in Uganda, met many local people (as we asked them for directions), experienced a plethora of potholes, we relieved ourselves in a hole (I have an entire philosophy here in Africa that I call my “Liquid Management” plan, and I will say, I was the only person out of 19 that didn’t have to pee in a hole…the plan is working…maybe if I market it right…hmmm…) We arrived at Mweya Lodge. By this time, I think Tim realized he was about to be voted off the island, so he was sweating bullets, and Mweya Lodge was his ace in the hole…they really pulled through. We arrived, hot, tired, sweaty, and covered in red dust…did I mention this shortcut didn’t involve paved roads? They had a lovely cold wash cloth for each of us, passion fruit juice, and the Lodge was lovely. We quickly forgot our journey and basked in the relative luxury of the next two days. We woke up very early the next morning to get out in the park while the animals were active and eating breakfast. As we were leaving in our Land Cruiser (there wasn’t enough room in the safari trucks, so we sent Bransen with the group, because he had never been on safari and was excited to stand up with his head out of the roof of the vehicle!) we had a knock on our window and a fairly frantic couple from Sweden asked if they could squeeze into our car because theirs had broken down and they wanted to go out to see the animals…of course we scooted over and had a lovely morning looking at animals and working on international relations!
On Tuesday, we left our team to head back to the airport, and we continued on to the border and crossed into Rwanda. Rwanda is a country that is scarred by the massacre of almost 1 million people of the Tutsi tribe, by the other predominant tribe in the country, the Hutus. This massacre happened while the world slept, only 14 years ago. Now, they are trying to repair their nation, not only physically, but emotionally and spiritually as well. I went to Rwanda six years ago and you could feel a sadness and darkness in that land as soon as you landed on the plane. I was SHOCKED at the changes that have been made since I was last there. Rebuilding is everywhere, hope is everywhere…it was truly, truly impressive and so wonderful to see. We went to the Millennium Village projects, assessed three hospitals, met some truly wonderful people, and headed back for Uganda late in the afternoon on Thursday. We had decided that we would drive for a few hours, instead of making the 14 hour drive all in one day. All went well, until we somehow missed the turn to our hotel for the night, and realized it was 36 km back. That is WAY too far to turn around and go back on Uganda roads, so we decided to push through to the next city, another 70 km away, and hope for the best. By this time, it was about 8 p.m., we had no lunch, the kids were hot, tired, thirsty, hungry, and grouchy…honestly, I was grouchy too…and emotional…even worse. I saw a goat that somehow reminded me of my little dog Bronte whom I haven’t seen for 8 weeks now, and I burst into tears and sat in the car crying because I missed her…that went over real well in a car full of boys…no sympathy for me, I was put on notice that I needed to suck it up and act like a man…hmmm…anyway, we had a general family meltdown, finally arrived into town, followed signs to the first hotel that was advertising, our thinking being if they had enough money to advertise, they can’t be too bad…and they weren’t. The sheets looked clean, they were serving a late dinner, and we ate and all fell into bed exhausted around 11:45 p.m. At which time, a group of Mzungu’s planted themselves literally two feet from our bedroom window at tables outside our room, and laughed and visited for almost an hour. We told them they were trying to sleep, so they took it down a notch, but it was literally like they were sitting in our room, so even with them talking quiet, they didn’t realize that we could hear everything they said.
We got back to Jinja, all is well, there’s so much that could be said. Chase left us yesterday to head back home…I already miss him. It is symbolic of his life right now, he is going to be leaving the nest, and no one told me how much it was going to hurt! Today we deliver the fish out to the children’s village. We are really excited. They are doing great, growing big already, and we have worked out a solar power system that seems to be working. I will be so excited if this idea works out, it really will be about six months before we know if it becomes profitable, because that is the time the fish will start reproducing, and also the time they will be big enough to sell at market.
I have been collecting stories of the children that are living in the village…after a while, I begin to almost get numb. Story after story of children whose parents died, or one parent died, and then the other couldn’t care for them, they were hungry, beaten, abused, with no place to live, and then taken in by tremendous people, who even though they don’t have the resources or room, they welcome them. I met an adorable mother named Sarah Waisana, and when I say adorable, I mean it…she is so cute, 8 months pregnant with her ninth child (only her third biological). Sarah and her husband David just keep taking in children who need a home. They live in a house that is probably 1000 sq. feet, with 11 of them, and they are thrilled, they feel so blessed. Their home is well kept, they have beautiful plants and vegetables growing, they are truly amazing people. I feel privileged to know them.
Our time here is winding down, and while I am THRILLED to be going home, seriously the thought of sleeping in my own bed, and taking a warm shower, and washing clothes in a washing machine brings me almost to tears, I can also say that the thought of leaving here makes me feel sad as well. I’m a problem solver by nature. I want to fix the problems that are here, but I realize that these problems are so big, have been here so long, that help given is a drop in the bucket. However, every drop counts, and at some point, it only takes one drop for the bucket to overflow. When I look at Irene, or Anna, or Mercy, or Richard, or Sylvia, and think about the fact that someone in America is a drop in the bucket, sponsoring them so they can have a hope and a future, I realize that each drop is a person, both here and there, and every drop is precious, every life is priceless…let it rain!
Ciao,
Cheri
Friday, July 13, 2007
Free Fallin'
We sang that song as we headed to the adventure camp this afternoon. It’s true…I faced one of my biggest fears today (heights, right up there next to snakes) and took the leap off a 44 meter platform that hung out over the Nile River. I learned that 44 meters is approximately 144 feet…let’s just say it’s WAY up there. I was the third of eight of us that jumped today. Happily, I was the first Reynolds’ (them there is braggin' rights folks!) The first person went, did a great swan dive off the platform, and about halfway down started screaming, but she was smiling when she was finished. Not a bad start. The second person went (I won’t name names, but she’s related to me), she jumped without hesitation, but began screaming and kept screaming until she was safely in the boat. That was a hard act to follow…I was scared to death. They sat me in a chair that looked like an electric chair, I felt like a prisoner going to the guillotine…and then I sat there as they wrapped a towel around my ankles, so that the rope they tied around my ankles wouldn’t give me a rope burn (thank you very much!). I watched earnestly to make sure that a true slip knot was tied on my ankles. Then I had to waddle over to the side, hang out on a ledge over the Nile, with nothing to hang onto but the ceiling of the overhang, take a deep breath and plunge.
I had already decided that I was going to look down as I jumped. So I got to the edge, looked down, and said to myself “there is NO WAY I am going to do this, I don’t care what anyone thinks of me, I’m walking back down.” Thankfully, that thought only lasted a second, but I ditched my plan to look down as I jumped, and instead looked at the roof of a nearby restaurant, took a deep breath, embraced my fear, celebrated my courage, and took the jump. The first second of a free fall is mind-boggling, literally, it was so difficult for my brain to get around the fact that I had just launched myself off a really tall place and was hurtling down towards the water, but immediately after that second, the next feeling is your stomach falling, which is a feeling I just LOVE. I have seriously said many times that I wish I could have one of those amusement park drop rides in my backyard. I love the feeling of dropping, when my stomach is in my throat. That was it…I hit the bottom, sprung up, flipped around, and dropped again in another exhilarating fall. I started whooping it up, it was so fun. No screaming for me, I was laughing my head off! When I finally was pulled into the boat, the African men told me I had a very strong heart…I was grateful for the comment. Let me tell you a little secret about myself…there are a lot of things that scare me.
I don’t know where I heard it, but one of my life mantra’s is that courage is not the absence of fear (thank God because then I would be the lion in the Wizard of Oz constantly searching for my courageous heart), but rather, courage is doing that which you are afraid of anyway. I remind myself of that often, and as I battled in my heart and brain about whether or not I would jump, it was a bigger battle for me than just a bungee jump; it was a battle for my courage. Thankfully, courage won the day, and the reward goes beyond the one minute of hanging over the Nile River with butterflies in my stomach. The reward is knowing that I can still face at least some of my fears, and overcome them. Hayden was next, and he did a perfect swan dive off the platform, without a moment of hesitation, and made a beautiful landing. Tim and Chase decided to get dunked in the Nile during their jump, and that added even more excitement. Westin, Bransen and another friend Carly decided to zip line over the Nile River. That too was exhilarating and fun. Overall, it was just a great, great experience and I have no regrets…
In addition to the excitement of the afternoon, we had the privilege of holding a dedication service for the house that Neighborhood Church worked on this week. Neighborhood Church decided to build this house in honor of the first person from Modesto killed in the Iraq War, as a way to honor his name, Corporal Michael D. Anderson, and the contribution that he made to our country, and in particular, to honor his love and dedication to children. As I watched about 50 adorable school children singing and dancing, as I listened to different Ugandans share their vision for the children of this beautiful country, there was such love and hope and joy…I thought that any parent would feel this is a very fitting and meaningful tribute to a wonderful son. The Anderson House was commissioned today to provide stability, hope and a future to orphaned children in Uganda for generations to come!
Tomorrow we head out for a weeklong trip. Hopefully, I will be able to get online occasionally. But until we talk again…
Ciao,
Cheri
I had already decided that I was going to look down as I jumped. So I got to the edge, looked down, and said to myself “there is NO WAY I am going to do this, I don’t care what anyone thinks of me, I’m walking back down.” Thankfully, that thought only lasted a second, but I ditched my plan to look down as I jumped, and instead looked at the roof of a nearby restaurant, took a deep breath, embraced my fear, celebrated my courage, and took the jump. The first second of a free fall is mind-boggling, literally, it was so difficult for my brain to get around the fact that I had just launched myself off a really tall place and was hurtling down towards the water, but immediately after that second, the next feeling is your stomach falling, which is a feeling I just LOVE. I have seriously said many times that I wish I could have one of those amusement park drop rides in my backyard. I love the feeling of dropping, when my stomach is in my throat. That was it…I hit the bottom, sprung up, flipped around, and dropped again in another exhilarating fall. I started whooping it up, it was so fun. No screaming for me, I was laughing my head off! When I finally was pulled into the boat, the African men told me I had a very strong heart…I was grateful for the comment. Let me tell you a little secret about myself…there are a lot of things that scare me.
I don’t know where I heard it, but one of my life mantra’s is that courage is not the absence of fear (thank God because then I would be the lion in the Wizard of Oz constantly searching for my courageous heart), but rather, courage is doing that which you are afraid of anyway. I remind myself of that often, and as I battled in my heart and brain about whether or not I would jump, it was a bigger battle for me than just a bungee jump; it was a battle for my courage. Thankfully, courage won the day, and the reward goes beyond the one minute of hanging over the Nile River with butterflies in my stomach. The reward is knowing that I can still face at least some of my fears, and overcome them. Hayden was next, and he did a perfect swan dive off the platform, without a moment of hesitation, and made a beautiful landing. Tim and Chase decided to get dunked in the Nile during their jump, and that added even more excitement. Westin, Bransen and another friend Carly decided to zip line over the Nile River. That too was exhilarating and fun. Overall, it was just a great, great experience and I have no regrets…
In addition to the excitement of the afternoon, we had the privilege of holding a dedication service for the house that Neighborhood Church worked on this week. Neighborhood Church decided to build this house in honor of the first person from Modesto killed in the Iraq War, as a way to honor his name, Corporal Michael D. Anderson, and the contribution that he made to our country, and in particular, to honor his love and dedication to children. As I watched about 50 adorable school children singing and dancing, as I listened to different Ugandans share their vision for the children of this beautiful country, there was such love and hope and joy…I thought that any parent would feel this is a very fitting and meaningful tribute to a wonderful son. The Anderson House was commissioned today to provide stability, hope and a future to orphaned children in Uganda for generations to come!
Tomorrow we head out for a weeklong trip. Hopefully, I will be able to get online occasionally. But until we talk again…
Ciao,
Cheri
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Weevils wobble but they don't fall down!
This is seriously gross…I mean seriously…twice now, we have found small weevil larvae in our toothbrushes. We are not leaving our brushes laying around, but they are in plastic containers and then in zip-lock bags. We use only bottled water, and toothpaste from America. WHAT IS GOING ON? That’s what I keep asking myself. We have to do the daily worm check on our toothbrushes before we put them to use. Yesterday, it was my toothbrush who had them. I boiled everyone’s toothbrush again, and it took me a LONG time to muster the courage to put mine in my mouth and scrub, but I did…it creeps me out just writing about it again. Any of you that know me, know that I am a germ freak. I have four boys, so I can handle my house being messy, but germs, disgust me. My sister and cousin always make fun of me because I even wash my chicken and vegetables with soap and water prior to cooking them. So this “weevil in the toothbrush” concept is definitely stretching me!
We have spent most of this week with a terrific team from Neighborhood Church at River Ranch, doing a building project out the Children’s Village. In addition, we have facilitated taking smaller teams to the medical clinic, school and office to do volunteer work. My parents came out with the team, as well as aunt and cousin, so we are having a terrific time. Two days ago, the bus driver was late one too many times so my dad (remember my conversation about the slowness of Africa and country music? Well, I am my father’s daughter when it comes to that) fired the bus driver and decided that Tim could drive the team around the rest of the week. So they were talking about it at dinner that night and I said, well great, but you and Tim are flying to the Northern part of Uganda tomorrow, so who will drive them around…oh yeah…they forgot about that one…so yesterday, I was in a van I wasn’t accustomed to, and I drove the smaller teams all over the place. I only heard a few grunts and groans, I scraped the curb twice, I parallel parked the opposite way we are used to (my greatest feat for the day if you ask me!), I had a close call with a semi-truck when I got distracted and went up the wrong side of the road, and a cow got loose and almost ran into me—other than that, we survived just fine, although I think a few people might be visiting their chiropractors when they get home!
This week we have learned about a little boy who goes to the new AOET school that is an orphan and is being raised by his grandma. Well, AOET staff just learned this week, that this eight year old boy’s grandma drinks all the time, and doesn’t care for him at all, and the only meals he eats all week, is the lunches provided at the school every day. So he eats five meals a week, and is basically starving, barely surviving. Truly is it almost beyond my ability to comprehend. The greatest part of the story though, is that this Sunday, he is moving into one of the houses that have been finished this week by the people at Neighborhood Church and the rest of the crew! Such a great ending to a sad, sad story. This little boy will be able to integrate into a family, with a Mom and a Dad, go to school, eat meals, be loved, watch how a family is supposed to interact, and hopefully grow into a whole, contributing adult that can help to improve the future of Uganda. The constructing has been slow at times, and probably frustrating, certainly hot and tiring…but the impact cannot even be measured.
Today in the afternoon is free-time. I know what the means…bungee jumping time. I’ll report back to you on what my decision was, and how it went. I’m currently trying to broker deals and negotiate with my children, I’m even willing to resort to some bribery…if we could just pick an adventure that involves remaining on the ground!
Ciao,
Cheri
We have spent most of this week with a terrific team from Neighborhood Church at River Ranch, doing a building project out the Children’s Village. In addition, we have facilitated taking smaller teams to the medical clinic, school and office to do volunteer work. My parents came out with the team, as well as aunt and cousin, so we are having a terrific time. Two days ago, the bus driver was late one too many times so my dad (remember my conversation about the slowness of Africa and country music? Well, I am my father’s daughter when it comes to that) fired the bus driver and decided that Tim could drive the team around the rest of the week. So they were talking about it at dinner that night and I said, well great, but you and Tim are flying to the Northern part of Uganda tomorrow, so who will drive them around…oh yeah…they forgot about that one…so yesterday, I was in a van I wasn’t accustomed to, and I drove the smaller teams all over the place. I only heard a few grunts and groans, I scraped the curb twice, I parallel parked the opposite way we are used to (my greatest feat for the day if you ask me!), I had a close call with a semi-truck when I got distracted and went up the wrong side of the road, and a cow got loose and almost ran into me—other than that, we survived just fine, although I think a few people might be visiting their chiropractors when they get home!
This week we have learned about a little boy who goes to the new AOET school that is an orphan and is being raised by his grandma. Well, AOET staff just learned this week, that this eight year old boy’s grandma drinks all the time, and doesn’t care for him at all, and the only meals he eats all week, is the lunches provided at the school every day. So he eats five meals a week, and is basically starving, barely surviving. Truly is it almost beyond my ability to comprehend. The greatest part of the story though, is that this Sunday, he is moving into one of the houses that have been finished this week by the people at Neighborhood Church and the rest of the crew! Such a great ending to a sad, sad story. This little boy will be able to integrate into a family, with a Mom and a Dad, go to school, eat meals, be loved, watch how a family is supposed to interact, and hopefully grow into a whole, contributing adult that can help to improve the future of Uganda. The constructing has been slow at times, and probably frustrating, certainly hot and tiring…but the impact cannot even be measured.
Today in the afternoon is free-time. I know what the means…bungee jumping time. I’ll report back to you on what my decision was, and how it went. I’m currently trying to broker deals and negotiate with my children, I’m even willing to resort to some bribery…if we could just pick an adventure that involves remaining on the ground!
Ciao,
Cheri
Monday, July 9, 2007
Christmas in July
Christmas has come early in the Reynolds’ household and Santa’s elves came in the form of Grandpa and Grandma Pagett, and Aunt Bette and Cousin Ali. They arrived in Jinja this morning, with entire suitcases full of sustenance for us! We all cheered with joy at two rolls of soft toilet paper, poker chips, granola bars, Lysol wipes (well, I actually was the only one who cheered for joy over the wipes, but I whooped it up loud!), bags of each of the boys’ favorite candy, and the grand finale…ingredients to make the boys’ favorite no-bake cookies…Special K Cookies—only Grandma would do that! I’m not kidding when I say it was like Christmas, we were ecstatic as we sat in their hotel room and ogled the goods. We had packages of gum, protein bars, top ramen, crystal light packets…it was a plethora of comfort items that we are now devouring! Hayden received a bag of caramel Ghirardelli squares, and I seriously think he is going to sleep with the bag because he thinks someone is going to take one…he wouldn’t share with Tim, and I caught Tim with his nose in the bag, just savoring the smell…Hayden did finally take pity on poor Dad and gave him ONE…only ONE caramel square (actually Hayden just read over my shoulder and informed me that Dad actually stole his caramel square, he didn’t have permission…) Bransen has already eaten an entire box of Mike and Ike’s. I had a lovely cup of tea and read the magazines my Mom brought me…life is good. It’s such an interesting change in perspective for us at the moment. I mean seriously, three weeks ago, not a single one of those items (well, not totally true, the Special K cookies would have done it) would have elicited any type of excitement. Even candy, my kids can usually take it or leave it—and now they whooping it up over two rolls of soft toilet paper.
We have tilapia fish growing in our backyard…eight have died but Tim thinks it’s because of the trip over to our house, etc. The experiment continues! Today we went to church, and then after church we went and visited Amani Baby Cottage…amani means peace in lugandan, and peace is what you feel, even in the midst of 59 toddlers and babies. Amani was started by a young woman from Texas, who is a follower of Jesus, and loves African babies. The stories that could be told of these precious children and how they have been rescued from abandonment and given a hope and a future are just amazing and fantastic. We arrived just as nap time was ending, and poked our heads into different rooms to look at the children. We reached the three year old boys’ room, and as we passed by, a steady stream of three year old boys came running out of the room, and literally jumped into our boys’ arms. They crave attention, they wanted to be held, they were adorable, they loved my boys and my boys loved them! I attached myself quickly to a nine-month old little girl named Grace. She was HIV positive when she arrived, but she has been given medicine and she is now HIV negative. She is adorable, huggable, happy…ahhh…I want to take them all home with me!
Amani Baby Cottage was called by the Jinja Hospital (remember the one with no running water or electricity?) to come and get a preemie baby today that had been abandoned in a school yard and found crying and bloody by a stranger early in the morning. Since the hospital had no incubator, they were keeping the baby warm by placing a paraffin lamp next to it in the crib…oh my word! (Just a little side note, you can bet that we will advocate to GE passionately for some incubators at this hospital—and knowing GE’s commitment and big heart, I suspect that in not too many months, Jinja Hospital will not have to place paraffin lamps next to their babies to keep them warm.) The Director left to pick up the baby, and came back with the baby and two toddlers. As she was gone, the police called her because they had two abandoned toddlers at the police station, and didn’t know what to do with them, so Amani opened its doors. The ladies at Amani Baby Cottage are heroes. Today we are taking them beautiful little hats that have been knitted by a lady from America, as well as a suitcase full of new baby clothes.
Sorry it has taken so long to get this blog up. I’ve been busy playing poker and eating cookies! Life is good.
Ciao,
Cheri
We have tilapia fish growing in our backyard…eight have died but Tim thinks it’s because of the trip over to our house, etc. The experiment continues! Today we went to church, and then after church we went and visited Amani Baby Cottage…amani means peace in lugandan, and peace is what you feel, even in the midst of 59 toddlers and babies. Amani was started by a young woman from Texas, who is a follower of Jesus, and loves African babies. The stories that could be told of these precious children and how they have been rescued from abandonment and given a hope and a future are just amazing and fantastic. We arrived just as nap time was ending, and poked our heads into different rooms to look at the children. We reached the three year old boys’ room, and as we passed by, a steady stream of three year old boys came running out of the room, and literally jumped into our boys’ arms. They crave attention, they wanted to be held, they were adorable, they loved my boys and my boys loved them! I attached myself quickly to a nine-month old little girl named Grace. She was HIV positive when she arrived, but she has been given medicine and she is now HIV negative. She is adorable, huggable, happy…ahhh…I want to take them all home with me!
Amani Baby Cottage was called by the Jinja Hospital (remember the one with no running water or electricity?) to come and get a preemie baby today that had been abandoned in a school yard and found crying and bloody by a stranger early in the morning. Since the hospital had no incubator, they were keeping the baby warm by placing a paraffin lamp next to it in the crib…oh my word! (Just a little side note, you can bet that we will advocate to GE passionately for some incubators at this hospital—and knowing GE’s commitment and big heart, I suspect that in not too many months, Jinja Hospital will not have to place paraffin lamps next to their babies to keep them warm.) The Director left to pick up the baby, and came back with the baby and two toddlers. As she was gone, the police called her because they had two abandoned toddlers at the police station, and didn’t know what to do with them, so Amani opened its doors. The ladies at Amani Baby Cottage are heroes. Today we are taking them beautiful little hats that have been knitted by a lady from America, as well as a suitcase full of new baby clothes.
Sorry it has taken so long to get this blog up. I’ve been busy playing poker and eating cookies! Life is good.
Ciao,
Cheri
Friday, July 6, 2007
Road Rage
Yes it’s true, road rage exists even in Africa, and we are living proof. Today, Chase, Westin and I were on our way out to a remote village, and our van turned onto a road, and the only truck we saw in probably 30 minutes, tried to run us off the road. Our driver was so angry, that he stopped the van, and he and the truck driver proceeded to go at it for several minutes, yelling, pointing, their “posses” got out of the respective vehicles to back them up—we just sat quietly in the back of the van, minding our own Mzungu business…this wasn’t our fight! It was unbelievable and I can thankfully report that we made it there and back without further incident. We were over an hour on a one lane road, and then another hour on a dirt road, to go to a small village in the Kumali district where we helped with a monthly outreach HIV medical clinic.
We went with a medical team from AOET (one of Assist’s partners in Uganda), the team was made up of six WONDERFUL 20-30 somethings who are doing their best to make a difference in their country. They were so intelligent, full of life, compassionate…just wonderful people to know anywhere, and a complete joy to know in a country that desperately needs people like them working on its behalf.
The purpose of the clinic is to provide free HIV testing, with results in about 10 minutes (why can’t we get medical results that fast in America?), and then counseling and medication if the test comes out positive. I didn’t know what we were in for, but I was excited to go along. I learned that I would be helping with the questionnaire, registering of new clients, and logging results from the tests. Chase and Westin turned into pharmacists and were counting out pills and passing out medicine.
Once again, another experience that I just don’t know if I can adequately put into words for you. We were taking information, and giving tests to people, and the results if positive, would basically be their death sentence. I was stunned when the first 15 clients were young children, and even more stunned when the first positive result of the day was a little six year old child. I had to begin to get numb after a while, because I would ask these people all about their history, the number of children they have, their sexual history, etc. and then refer them to the testing area. Then they would bring the results back to me and I would read on the code whether or not they had tested positive. If it was a positive test, they were referred to one of AOET’s medical personnel, who would lovingly counsel them on safe sex, how not to spread the disease, and medicines they can take to help themselves live longer. My agony increased as I watched “mommy” after “mommy”, who had just told me that they had 4, 5 or more children, receive the positive results of their HIV test. I remember one woman in particular, she had 8 children and she was only 30 years old, and when she received the results, she just sat in the grass with tears streaming down her cheeks for over an hour. She waited and received her counseling and her medication, and I thought my heart would burst in two as I thought of this poor lovely young mother who not only was facing certain death, but another 8 children who would be joining the ever growing list of orphan children in Uganda.
My emotions ran the full gamut. Joy at the school children who came at lunch time to sing us a welcome song; empathy for the grandmothers who were bringing their grandchildren in to be tested, hoping they hadn’t contracted what had killed their parents; agony over the tiny children who tested positive; sadness for the mothers and fathers. I was enraged when woman after woman, during my interview with her, would tell me that their husband had been tested before, but he wouldn’t tell her the results. I will save the status of women in Africa and my opinion of that for another blog entry, but it is just so unfair, because almost every one of these women came back with a positive test.
There were some good results as well…I remember the young mother, just 23, mother of three, a baby at her breast, break out laughing when she received the negative results. She was just beaming…she was the minority. The number of people we tested was approximately 90, and I’m sure that over half of the adults tested positive, thankfully not half of the children tested positive.
The HIV scourge in this continent is just overwhelming. The cause besides the actual virus, is so multi-layered, it is not an easy fix except for a vaccination or cure. People here have no access to the types of education that we have in America, so many of them are so uneducated about the virus, as well as the ways to prevent it. In addition, women here have no rights, so it is virtually impossible for them to refuse unsafe sex. They need to be empowered!
One of my son’s initial responses to our conversation regarding HIV status in Africa was “Well, it’s their own fault!” Once I explained to him the complex situation, his heart turned more compassionate. Please let your heart turn compassionate as well. This situation goes WAY beyond fault and blame. Millions upon millions of people are dying, and millions of children are left to fend for themselves in a terribly difficult land to survive in. They become victims of abuse, disease and starvation. Every child is important, every child deserves to thrive, every child needs our help…what if it was your child?
Ciao,
Cheri
We went with a medical team from AOET (one of Assist’s partners in Uganda), the team was made up of six WONDERFUL 20-30 somethings who are doing their best to make a difference in their country. They were so intelligent, full of life, compassionate…just wonderful people to know anywhere, and a complete joy to know in a country that desperately needs people like them working on its behalf.
The purpose of the clinic is to provide free HIV testing, with results in about 10 minutes (why can’t we get medical results that fast in America?), and then counseling and medication if the test comes out positive. I didn’t know what we were in for, but I was excited to go along. I learned that I would be helping with the questionnaire, registering of new clients, and logging results from the tests. Chase and Westin turned into pharmacists and were counting out pills and passing out medicine.
Once again, another experience that I just don’t know if I can adequately put into words for you. We were taking information, and giving tests to people, and the results if positive, would basically be their death sentence. I was stunned when the first 15 clients were young children, and even more stunned when the first positive result of the day was a little six year old child. I had to begin to get numb after a while, because I would ask these people all about their history, the number of children they have, their sexual history, etc. and then refer them to the testing area. Then they would bring the results back to me and I would read on the code whether or not they had tested positive. If it was a positive test, they were referred to one of AOET’s medical personnel, who would lovingly counsel them on safe sex, how not to spread the disease, and medicines they can take to help themselves live longer. My agony increased as I watched “mommy” after “mommy”, who had just told me that they had 4, 5 or more children, receive the positive results of their HIV test. I remember one woman in particular, she had 8 children and she was only 30 years old, and when she received the results, she just sat in the grass with tears streaming down her cheeks for over an hour. She waited and received her counseling and her medication, and I thought my heart would burst in two as I thought of this poor lovely young mother who not only was facing certain death, but another 8 children who would be joining the ever growing list of orphan children in Uganda.
My emotions ran the full gamut. Joy at the school children who came at lunch time to sing us a welcome song; empathy for the grandmothers who were bringing their grandchildren in to be tested, hoping they hadn’t contracted what had killed their parents; agony over the tiny children who tested positive; sadness for the mothers and fathers. I was enraged when woman after woman, during my interview with her, would tell me that their husband had been tested before, but he wouldn’t tell her the results. I will save the status of women in Africa and my opinion of that for another blog entry, but it is just so unfair, because almost every one of these women came back with a positive test.
There were some good results as well…I remember the young mother, just 23, mother of three, a baby at her breast, break out laughing when she received the negative results. She was just beaming…she was the minority. The number of people we tested was approximately 90, and I’m sure that over half of the adults tested positive, thankfully not half of the children tested positive.
The HIV scourge in this continent is just overwhelming. The cause besides the actual virus, is so multi-layered, it is not an easy fix except for a vaccination or cure. People here have no access to the types of education that we have in America, so many of them are so uneducated about the virus, as well as the ways to prevent it. In addition, women here have no rights, so it is virtually impossible for them to refuse unsafe sex. They need to be empowered!
One of my son’s initial responses to our conversation regarding HIV status in Africa was “Well, it’s their own fault!” Once I explained to him the complex situation, his heart turned more compassionate. Please let your heart turn compassionate as well. This situation goes WAY beyond fault and blame. Millions upon millions of people are dying, and millions of children are left to fend for themselves in a terribly difficult land to survive in. They become victims of abuse, disease and starvation. Every child is important, every child deserves to thrive, every child needs our help…what if it was your child?
Ciao,
Cheri
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