June - September 2006

9/9/06
For those of you interested in reading the Argus Courier article about my work here, the link is:  http://www1.arguscourier.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060906/COMMUNITY/60905028&SearchID=73256110706791
We just finished our Close of Service Conference where we discussed the logistics of ending our 2 year committment in Swaziland.  As it stands, I will be leaving the country in early to mid November.  I will be traveling through West Africa for a month on the way to India, where I expect to study yoga for a few months before resuming my work on humanitarian efforts.  I will continue to post during my travels and in India.
I will also be documenting my last 2 months with the girls at the orphanage and with the people in my community.  It will be difficult to leave and I expect some of the entries will be quite sad.  Please bear with me.


9/25/06

On Friday I spent the day with Julie, my closest PCV friend here, as her community celebrated the opening of an NCP (neighborhood care point for the care and feeding of orphans and vulnerable children) the building of which was, in no small part, due to Julie’s hard efforts.  The day was also an opportunity for the community to bid farewell to Julie, as she is leaving a little earlier than the rest of us because her grandfather, who has loved her and written her faithfully, every week of the 2 years, has fallen quite ill recently.  Julie has been the quintessential PCV, investing herself fully in the PC experience.  She lives in a very isolated area, one and one half hours by old and unreliable transport and by dirt and rock road, to the nearest town, thankfully mine.  She planted herself firmly in the community and learned to speak siSwati fluently.  In so doing, she has certainly touched lives more profoundly than many of the rest of us have done.

 I couldn’t begin to count the numbers of people, including more than a few children, that Julie has brought to the hospital in Hlatikhulu (my town is her nearest clinic) for HIV testing and treatment, as well as for a myriad of other problems.  And her efforts have had far reaching effects: One of the first women Julie successfully got on ARVs, and then saw through a horrendous allergic reaction to the drugs which causes the skin around the mouth and eyes to blister disfiguringly, has since become uncharacteristically open about her status and has encouraged many others to test and seek treatment.  And after months of seeking help for a small boy, barely 7, who was orphaned, HIV+, neglected, and sick, the boy is now doing well and will be situated at one of the few wonderful community based orphanages in a rural area, where he will get the attention he so needs.  That he has been schooling this past year is solely due to Julie’s contributions.  To see them together brings me near to tears.  And there are so many more stories and occasions where Julie has put her community and her neighbors before her own needs, sometime to the point of near self neglect. 

So, it was due and fitting that she be honored on one of her last few days at site.  Important dignitaries were there from the community, including the chief, and a film crew from Swazi TV.  Julie delivered a moving speech in siSwati, swallowing back the tears at points, and I noticed that more than a few people in the audience were wiping their eyes as well, including men for whom showing emotion is unheard of here.  The most poignant moment came when Julie acknowledged her “counterpart” and dear friend, Mpumi.  Mpumi was assigned as Julie’s “swazi counterpart” in her community.  The PC asks the community to identify someone who will work with the PCV in the community to act as a bridge for the volunteer and to help with the mitigation of the HIV crisis.  Julie and Mpumi have worked closely together for two years and have become like sisters.  Mpumi is now employed as a community HIV outreach worker by World Vision, a position she would not hold were it not for her work with Julie.  As Julie acknowledged her Swazi sister, Mpumi sat a couple rows back, head bowed, tears streaming.  Mpumi’s been crying for weeks.  This is a very difficult parting.

The older women in the community did a wonderful song and dance for Julie after which they gifted her and dressed her with traditional wear. 

We all ate; a cow had been sacrificed- again, a great honor.  I stayed the night with Julie and was glad to be with her on such an important day.  I was struck by how genuine and deep her experience had been, how she exemplifies what we all should strive to be. 

And, as is unfortunately the case, Swaziland allows for no happy endings… On Sunday, one of Julie’s friends from the community, who had been sick and in the hospital the past couple weeks, passed away.  She had been on ARVs for some time, had been doing well, and recently contracted cryptococcal meningitis.  She leaves behind 5 small children, now orphans.


9/29/06

 Simphiwe was in town for a few days for school break and we agreed to meet in town this morning to walk out to Mbotjeni and visit Manthoba, Tigi, and gogo.  It has been so very long since simphiwe and I set out on any given day to make the world a better place and I was pleased, as always, to be in his company.  We met at the store so we could pick up some cornmeal and beans to take to gogo and simphiwe tucked the goods in my pack and put it on his back and we set out.  The walk to Mbotjeni is beautiful.  The way is all down hill from town and you can look out over the expanse of green rolling hills, trees and forests, and Swazi homesteads.  I never tire of it even though the area is very reminiscent of Northern California (or, in some places, even the high desert in southeastern Arizona).  Swaziland is beautiful and it is difficult, sometimes, to grasp the sickness and suffering that is occurring just inside this homestead here, and that one over there, and on the homestead further up the road.  Like a beautiful woman whose cancer overtakes her just underneath her tender skin.  We arrive at Mbotjeni and Tigi sees us before we see him, running to greet us and take us to the homestead.  He grabs Simphiwe’s hand, happy to see him even though it has been some time.  Gogo is where I often see her when the days are nice, lying on a mat outside.  I am relieved I don’t have to see her dragging her cumbersome body across the ground by her elbows to be able to enjoy the sunshine.  Unfortunately, Manthoba is off fetching water for the homestead.  He is likely carrying a jug as large as he is, unless he has managed to scavenge a wheelbarrow somewhere. The river is a ways from the homestead and he is unlikely to be back before we leave.  I ask gogo how Manthoba did in school this year and she chuckles like a pleased little girl, “kahle kakhulu”, really great.  She is worried that there will be no one to help Tigi get into school once I leave.  He is due to start in January.  I assure her that Red Cross is coming to see her soon (they have been coming for a year now) and, if they don’t come, I will make sure schooling for Manthoba and Tigi for next year is taken care of before I go.  I don’t tell her that I, too, am worried what will happen to the three of them when I am no longer able to check on them.  I would like to think their neighbors will help, but it isn’t necessarily so.  And because the boys are just abandoned (to a gogo who can’t even walk) by both parents ( althought I think the father died this year- the mother is still unaccounted for), they don’t qualify for programs like Young Heroes that only cater to double orphans.  Even if they did qualify, gogo couldn’t get to the post office to pick up the money.  Sigh.  I remember the first time Simphiwe and I came here- gogo hadn’t left her bed for months, hadn’t eaten, and was significantly depressed, begging God to take her.  Today she is looking pretty good- the simple little stone and mud hut is the same, her burden no lighter, but she is in good spirits.  And Tigi looks good and well cared for.  Simphiwe and gogo chat in SiSwati for a bit and I am able to pick out more and more of what they are saying, still far short of where I should be.  We take our leave and make the walk back into town.  I am not sure what we talked about or if we talked at all.  It was simply good enough just to be with him again.  We parted in town and he said he would try to get up to see the girls this afternoon.  He is attending a funeral in the morning and heads back to South Africa directly after that.  He says there are too many funerals now, it makes him sad to come home.  He doesn’t even ask after people anymore for fear he will learn they are gone.

Simphiwe was good to his word and showed up at the orphanage in mid-afternoon. The girls adore simphiwe but are always shy to see him or be around him.  He sits in my rondeval for a while, just talking, and then we go outside so he can greet the housemother.  He chats a bit with her and then it is time to go.  He comes back to the rondeval to retrieve a couple books I am sending with him (Hesse’s Sidhartha for one) and I catch him on the step and wrap my arms around him to tell him he is one of my favorite people on the planet.  He gives me that smile that is so uniquely his and is grateful (although it is still awkward for him to be hugged).  The girls gather outside to say farewell and I walk him down the road, long past the point where it would be polite to let him travel on by himself.  At some point I let him go, otherwise I might just go with him back to South Africa.  With Julie gone, and Simphiwe leaving again, I am feeling very alone.  Not friendless but without friends near enough.