Life Ends Today

7.13.09

When I put myself in the desperate's shoes- the poor- the sick-the horny teenage boy- I realize it is not I who can convince these boys what is best for them and everyone else. Either these men are not thinking long term or they just don't care. It is the women who can make them change. It is the girl who demands her boyfriend wear a condom. It is the wife who demands her commuting husband get tested- frequently. Because the desperate, the sick, the horny- will take and take as long as it is allowed.

The mothers need to educate their sons their daughters. Women are internally angry here- but most do nothing.

No one is seeing the red ribboned billboards buses and buildings. The awareness is out there. The faded red ribbon- no longer stands for anything.

Today we were given our first community project- to work in three different groups at three different schools. I jumped on the opportunity to work at the high school. It's interesting how diverse our interests are in this group. There are those who are hoping to work with the orphans and children, those who want to work in the clinics, and those who want nothing to do with schools and children. I prefer the teenage years- hoping to get a chance to work with the teen girls- especially the boys.

No matter what age level- we are all ready to finally get out there. If we have to sit through on more lecture one more 45 minute discussion about diarrhea- there will be homocide.

We divide ourselves into those that would work with the headmasters of a school- the teachers and the students. We are given surveys asking typical questions about HIV and their experiences with it. Each group would be given the same survey. This survey will help us decide what our community projects will be based on. What our communities need.

I walk into one of the classrooms two of the PCT's are teaching in. I hear the students shout "Simphiwe!" "Simphiwe!" Thabeela had warned me they all know my name. I've made it a point to walk everywhere and say Sawbona to every persoin I pass. I'll run by a group of high schoolers walking home and do the soccer high fives as I pass. I'll shout Sanibonani! to a group of gawking high school boys. If I see a young girl carrying a huge jug of water home to her family, i'll hand her my bag and carry it for her. I tripped in front of some primary school kids- turned it into a summersault kartwheel followed by a bow. I make a complete fool of myself everyday- and it works. They know me. Everywhere I go I hear my name shouted. I introduce myself to people and they say, Simphiwe- I know you. They, for now, love me.

After class a young man walks over to me- reluctantly- his friends giggling huddled together behind him. His voice shakes, "Simphiwe I am scared to meet you." My PCT's laughing behind me now. I grab his hand- swazi shake. "Yebo yebo bhuti. Ugubani ligama lako?" He tells me his name- ignorantly infatuated with me.

I think I'm at about two proposals a day. It's up to 25 cows. In a bad mood- one night- I am hasseled again for marriage by a passing man. I demand that he come closer- so he can hear me clearly. I ask, "Do you ACTUALLY think I or any American woman is going to say yebo?! That we'll whisk you away to America where money grows off trees. We'll hang out with my dear friend Oprah, have some drinks with R. Kelly and Jay Z? Do you you really think this will happen?" Smiling he responds, "Yebo."

Next stop- the Umphigatsi- the chief's home- the meeting place of all those in the medical and education HIV prevention fields. There we are accompanied by the Swazi Red Cross, some RHM's, (rural health motivators), and clinic workers. Chairs are outside under a tree and matts on the ground for the women. I sit down, properly, knees first- then bottom, pull legs forward. It's hot- my back hurts.

Red Cross woman steps up to present to us what it is she and her staff teach kids in the area- abstinence Swaziland. We are sorrounded by caregivers, chiefs, men and women- the young the old, the breastfeeding the not breastfeeding. Swazi Red Cross stands up- she holds up a flip chart. A cartoon of a woman with jeans on arrows coming out from her pointing to three different men. It's clear this picture symbolizes a young woman who is sleeping with three different men. "What do you call this woman?" Swazi Red Cross asks- giggling behind the illustration. Swazis are shouting out responses in Siswati. Laughter follows each shouted response- they look our direction smiling to see if we are understanding what it is they are shouting. This can't be good. Then I hear it. A man shouts, "Bitch!". We look at each other with disgust. Most of us are too busy wipping off the colony of ants climbing up our legs into our skirts up our backs. They have placed the women on an ant colony.

The final illustration. A woman embracing her husband, long skirt on, "What do you call THIS woman?" A good one.

The most disturbing part of all of this was this woman encouraging these men to call this woman a bitch. Swazi Red Cross- a huge disappointment.

Afterwards, we sat with a few of them to ask questions about what it is like doing HIV prevention in Swaziland. They laughed at our questuions. They hardly made eye contact. They buried their faces when they softly spoke to us, their mouths hidden behind their hands. This is Swazi women.

Our translator explains- these women are nervous- embarrassed to talk to you about sex. They are not professoinals. I respond, "This is the Red Cross." These are the educators laughing with their hands over their mouths in embarrassment. I look at one of the PCT's with me. She's one of the kindest in our group. Excited to work with the orphans- the type of person that melts your heart, makes you smile. Makes the mountains sing when you are near her. I watch her, pen and notebook in hand- she is ready- excited to get in there and ask questions. She asks them about condom distribution and rural HIV care. She tilts her head, soft spoken words come out- a warm gooey smile. I watch the smile fade away- her pen drop. Swazi Red Cross could give a shit about this heart warming PCT. They laugh at her questions, they whisper in Siswati amongst themselvses. Swazi Red Cross then moves her hand from her mouth- giggling subsides- she looks directly into my eyes now and says,

"Life ends today. People here assume AIDS- people here do not care- We are selfish- we assume death is near- life ends today. Nothing else matters."

Mountains aren't singing anymore. Bubbly loving PCT- her heart is broken. And me- I arrived assuming the worst. I thank them, stand up and walk away- heavy hearted but I can handle it... for now.

We came here embracing the title, "HIV Educators". We realize now we are "Life Motivators". Which is the biggest challenge of all. With hard work- anyone can be educated- with a miracle a group- a country can be inspired- to hold on- to live. That life doest not end today.

I've asked myself how did Uganda win? A country that was taken over by the AIDS epidimic- Uganda won. They lacked the education- not the motivation.

We will have to build a suit of armor for the women. But first we will have to build a suit of armor for ourselves.