Hello Again

“…so here the archangel paused,
Betwixt the world destroyed and world restored”
~John Milton, Paradise Lost


Once again, it’s been a long while. Though time is racing by, it seems that very few noteworthy events happen, which makes blog-writing seem a bit futile. Winter is here in full force (weather is always the default topic for Americans, isn’t it?), which of course I dread. In June it seemed to get colder and colder every day for about 10 days, though admittedly July has softened a bit. Winter will extend until early September, with August being our windiest month so I am bracing myself for that.

In early July we had our belated one-year training in Molepolole. We receive a new cohort every April, as previously mentioned, so their arrival this past April obviously delayed our one-year training. Though we’ve lost about 20% of our original group for various reasons, it was nice to those who remain. The heating at the lodge was temperamental, and we were frequently without water. That made for a very interesting training. Many of us travel a long distance from our already-rural environments, void of heat (and for some of us, void of water); thus we all look forward to plush lodging, so that was a bit of a disappointment. But for me it wasn’t a very big deal. We talked a bit about preparing for our departure and how we should be beginning to have conversations about it with those to whom we are closest – particularly the children – so that they are not as shocked when the time comes. This, in conjunction with the discussion of applying for jobs, was kind of a kick in the face. I have 10 months left… how did this happen?

I am sure many of you are wondering about my youngest ‘son’, Kabelo. I am too. I haven’t really seen him in well over a month now. He’s gotten himself in a lot of trouble, both in and out of the school, in various incidents and it seems his guardian is keeping him on a tight leash. I know he was due to go and see a traditional doctor to “sort him out”, and I do not know if he has gone or what came of such a visit. While people here are largely “Christian,” witchcraft and traditional influences – particularly with respect to medicine – still play a large role in people’s lives. It is believed that someone may have put some sort of spell on Kabelo, or that he may be possessed by an ancestor who is angry about something. Needless to say, I haven’t seen him.

But life is made full from other people. I guess I’m finally developing “friends”, though my definition of the word isn’t exactly applicable here. For one, it’s so difficult with language. While the Kalanga is going very, very well and it’s a language that I truly enjoy and admire, 16 months is not enough time to develop the skills necessary to have deep, meaningful conversations. That being said, I am always amazed at just how much I am able to communicate with people. The other day I was in line at a supermarket in Francistown getting take-away food, and I noticed the lady was giving everyone spoons (most people eat with their hands or with spoons, not with forks), and then she gave me a fork. So I said with a smile, “Ini u mpa bathu bose ligwana ngono wa ndimpa foroko? A no kumbula makhuwa abato da ligwana?” (Why did you give all those people a spoon but you gave me a fork? Do you think white people don’t like spoons?). After catching up with her shock, she belted a big laugh and said that, yes, white people tend to prefer forks. It was a nice moment.

It will be hard to leave some people here, particularly my ‘best’ friend – who is an HIV-positive adolescent. I know I’ve mentioned him before, the 14 year old (nearly 15 now) who looks 9. His name is Batundu or Kemmonye, but I call him Khuwa – which means white person – because he has a really light complexion. When I first arrived I had trouble remembering so many foreign names, so I gave nicknames to a lot of the kids, which made it easy for me and fun for them. Interestingly enough, 16 months later I know all of their real names but still call many of them by their original nicknames, and they even use them amongst themselves, which I enjoy. Khuwa speaks very little English, though I have been working on him. In fact, I think my presence has encouraged him to give more attention to English class in school. When I came back from my training this month, I was shocked to hear him speaking English left and right (simple sentences), and I said,

“Waka zwidiya Ikhuwa lini?!?” (“When did you learn English?!?”)

To which he responded – in slow English: “I… have to… speak English.”

“Ne kutini?” (Why?”) I asked.

“Because... I… am… Khuwa”

I nearly fell over with laughter. It was so unexpected and well played, and remains one of my favorite moments here. I’ll miss Khuwa the most, and Amy of course.

Amy is doing ok. The hut she uses for her kitchen burnt down, so she is struggling to find the money to build a new one. Amy is truly one of those people you meet once every 10 years or so – if you’re lucky – and if it weren’t for her I probably would have packed up and left by now. Her health is still quite volatile, but this week she discovered that her CD4 count has gone up (as a reminder, in layman’s terms, the CD4 cells are the kind that decrease as HIV progresses, and are linked to the general well-being of the immune system). This week she said to me, “Ahh, Kagiso, when you go I am going to think of you and be sad and my CD4 is going to be low.” It was such a cute, but sad, compliment that I had to laugh to avoid tearing up. She is the lowest paid person at the clinic, and still the hardest working, while everyday having an inspirational attitude. While always a joy to meet such people, it’s also bittersweet; as I know that she will never have the life she deserves and will always struggle with money and her health.

Things at the clinic are ok. I’m at a point where I feel as though I am on a plateau, but I think that’s normal. We just compiled our 2nd quarterly report for the year, which revealed that 22% of the people who tested for HIV were found positive. That percentage is really no higher or lower than any other quarter, and it continues to put us among the highest in the world. The virus excludes no one: this quarter we had an 8-year-old boy and a 78-year-old woman test positive. There’s a world of its own behind all of this, but I wont go in to it here.

The good news is, some good news exists. Every year in Botswana 15,000 HIV-positive women give birth (a number that is increasing). Without the PMTCT program, about 35% (5,000+) babies would be born infected. But with the program, we are finding that less than 4%, or 600, are being born positive. Statistics like that remind me that the work I am involved in is indeed valuable. While of course the big challenge will be staying negative throughout their lives, it’s still comforting to know that a whole generation is more-or-less starting with a clean slate.

Shifting gears, on my walk to work the other day my 22 yr old neighbor was being cut down from the tree from which he apparently hung himself. No one seems to know why, although his younger brother has been under supervision as he confessed that they were supposed to do it together. The suicide rate is alarmingly high here; there have been several in my village in the past year, but no one seems to mention it as an issue. Personally I think this is a chronically depressed country, and the depression manifests itself in so many other facets of their lives.

“Any idiot can face a crisis; it is this day-to-day living that wears you out.” –Chekhov


I extend a major thank you to those who have been keeping in contact with me. Your correspondence is so greatly appreciated. For the record, I am little backed up on books-to-read, so unless you stumble upon something absolutely amazing I am probably ok without books for a while. But please do at least let me know the titles of any books I may find amusing and I’ll add them to my ever-growing list of books to read later. I am doing a lot of reading – in fact, I am arguably more intellectually stimulated here than I have been at any other point in my life. I am currently reading 3 books, forwarded subscriptions of The New Yorker, Men’s Health, and Harper’s Magazine, as well as other publications you all send me (I love Songlines, hint-hint, nudge-nudge). On top of Kalanga, I am studying other languages, exercising, doing yoga, and make a point to write – either something fictional or not – on a weekly basis. This is a very rich time in my life and I value it.

Here I have become so aware of how many hours there really are in a day. At home I know we always wonder where the time goes, and how little we feel we’ve accomplished at the end of the day. But in the absence of most of the major time-consumers – hours spent watching vapid TV programs, browsing every corner of the internet, cleaning our 2,500+ sq. foot abodes, etc. – I am astounded at just how many things I can do in a day. In fairness, that’s mostly because there really isn’t anything to do! On weekends, I often think “I should be doing something” only to remind myself that there isn’t too much to do. I can’t peruse Wal-Mart. I can’t catch a flick at the local theatre or have a cocktail with a friend. So I mostly read, read, read, and visit people in the community. The quiet life is good for me at this stage.

I guess that’s all. I’ll leave you with some updated suggestions for sending things. Thanks again to you all.

Things I have enough of:
Writing pads
Razors / razor blades
Shaving Cream
Sunscreen
Facial Soap & Bar Soap
Hand sanitizer
Post-shaving cream
Anything mosquito-related
Toothbrushes

Things I’m Still Loving
Anything Cheezy
Febreeze
Granola / Power / Snack bars
Healthy snack foods (trail mixes, almonds, etc.)
Facial Toner
Black beans
Olive Oil
Amazon Gift Certificates! 
Good pens
Candy for the kids (ok, I admit, and for me)
Letters and Photos

I would also love a bag of tortilla chips. Ooh I miss their salty goodness.