"Living Positively with HIV"

OJT over. I say goodbye to my future make and babe. I will return in two weeks I tell them. They tell me they will be sad until I return.

Babe Shongwe arrives to take me to the kombie station. Tabisoe runs up and hands me another love letter from another secret admirer. I want to hug Babe Shongwe to thank him for everything- but culture forbids it. Instead I teach him a high five- is it bad this moment reminded me of the second Terminator? I say to him, "Goodbye Babe Counterpart- thank you again." "Sisi, you must tell the inner council and the chief I cannot be your counterpart- I am too busy sisi." We'll see Babe, we'll see." I respond.

The next day, back at Ngonini training center, people (strangers to me, I a friend to them) exclaim, "Simphiwe! You are back! We missed you!"It's only been five days- but I admit even to me- it felt like forever. Only eight weeks here- but it feels like home.

PCT's and I return to our routine- we are in class at our training site at 8 am. Notebooks open. We explode with stories of our new homes. For some it was exactly what they wanted- for others- a concern now. There are those whose sites have absolutley no water- having to choose between bathing and drinking. Some endured 120 degree heat and lived in an area recieving international food aid. Some are neighboring illegal daga (pot) dealers- sleeping with HIV positive prostitutes. Some also in cities known for their HIV positive sex workers. Others so isolated it's a two hour walk to the nearest kombie stop. Some awoken to drunken men peering into their windows while others awoke to their bhuti cracking metal over an innocent dog's back with a laughing audience. There are even those of us living with families that know they are HIV positive. But then there's the other end- with flushing toilets, sinks, and even servants. I find myself happily right in the middle. Exactly where I want to be- no electricity, mud hut, and teen hell.

But our story sharing is cut short. Today is the day we've all been waiting for. The Baylor doctors are here to give us the facts. HIV Africa through a doctor in Africa's perspective. Baylor University in Mbabane supplies the area with many doctors some of whom have worked with Doctors Without Borders. They have seen it all and are here to show us what we are all about to see in our homes and communities.

They have brought two young women (around my age). One pregnant. Both are HIV positive. They work in the hospitals as nurses and counselors. They provide comfort to those who have just found out they are HIV positive. They tell them life goes on. "You can still live life positively while being positive." I think about that for a moment. Sitting in front of me is an HIV positive woman- pregnant. At home she has another child- negative. She tells the story of the day she found out her daughter was negative- tears fill her eyes. "Swazi women would do anything for their babies- it was the happiest day of my life." But how can that be? She and her husband both negative and now another one on the way. My question, "Did you get pregnant on purpose?!" Why! Why Why! They encourage us to ask them any question- they won't take offense. But I'm offended. How could you willingly bring a child into this abnormal world? What will happen when you die? When the father dies? With medication there's a strong chance the baby will come out negative- but taking that chance? I am thinking selfish. I am offended. But I have to ask. I delicately rephrase my thoughts. "Do you find women who are positive still trying to have children? If so, why?" The non-pregnant woman replies, "Because life goes on. I still want to have another child. I want to live life. It is important that we keep on living." They know they cannot cheat death- but I know it's important they do not cheat life. And a Swazi life is about reproduction. This is why I am constantly asked- are you married? Where are your children? I come from a world where our jobs define us. Here I am in a world that is defined by it's kin. Preventing life because you are now positive is not living a Swazi life.

I am starting to see AIDS their way.

Like a magic eye painting- I am seeing the bigger picture. It's easy- as an outsider- to see the fight against HIV/AIDS as only two seperate options- prevention or care. But when you see AIDS in Africa- the two paths do and must coexist.When your see the bigger picture of anything- you see a circle, a cycle. The cycle here is- care is aiding prevention. HIV positive people who have given up- who are not recieving any medical care, physically or mentally- are giving up. "They don't want to die alone." Purposefully infecting others- making poor health decisions. They are dying early and orphaning their children. These children (OVC's) will grow up poor- uneducated- more succepstable to getting the virus- then spreading it- and so goes the cycle.

So what can a humble PCV do? It's imperative that a community feels a sense of control over their future. If they care about their future- if they see a future for themselves- they are less likely to make impulsive pleasure over safety deisions. They are lacking a connection to their future. In previous posts, I have ridiculed the cliche PCV who donates sewing machines to a group of women. But it is these sewing machines- this income generating project- that allows a woman the confidence to insist on condom use. They no longer fear the economic repercussions of lossing their male partner and his money.

Here, you walk into a classroom with the students knowing more about HIV than you do. I'm entering a world that has all the right answers but making all the wrong decisions. Why? How do I give a community this much needed sense of control? I, like the Swazis, are going to have to painfully search for a greater understanding of love and personal relationships- in their rapidly changing world.

Baylor Doctors continue to show us pictures of children living with HIV- the scars, the rashes, the discolored skin. They want us to recognize the physical symptoms so we can identify those in our communities living with HIV and urge them to go to a nearby clinic. They show us the new ARV's made specifically for children- liquid form now. My good friend, PCT seated next to me whispers, "Oh my god." She looks at me and says, "My new sisi- she's a year old. I have seen her mother give her these medications daily." She looks down. In my head I am remembering twenty minutse ago- the doctors giving us the horrifying statistics. "52% of children born with HIV will not see the age of two." I know PCT is thinking the same thing. I know she is questioning how many others in her new family are infected- I know she is scared. Already- a 52% chance she will see death. We keep these thoughts to ourselves. The greatest source of support a PCV can have is that of another PCV. I grab her hand as she stares hard at the table. All I can think to say is- "They are fortunate to have you then. You got this."