Possibly My New Digs

 

Guess where I might live?

Dog Days of Winter

Unless you're a dog owner you might not understand what joy it is to see your mutts jumping in the waves at the sea and chasing sticks.

And if you're not a parent, you might also not understand how satisfying it is to be with your kids and nobody else (except the dogs!). I gathered my family together this past weekend for a final beach hurrah! Some of our old patterns emerged: Josiah whipping us all at Scrabble with his wordsmithing, Gabrielle playing DJ with her I-Pod list ranging from Beyonce to Lady Gaga, and me cooking my mom's famous blueberry, banana pancakes. Even the dogs were predictable running until they exhausted every muscle in their bodies.



Some of our negative patterns emerged too, and hard as I might wish for them to disappear, they don't. I'll speak for myself here. I let my naggy, lecture mother come out. To be fair, I really want everything to be perfect before my move to Africa. It's just going to have to be what it is though. I'll spend time with those I love, impart my care and concern, and then let go (not quit, but let go)!

The Three Luisas

It appears to me that Luisa is a common feminine name in Sena. It sounds pretty in Portuguese, especially when you put Dona (“Madame”) in front of it. Try saying it a few times, “Dona Luisa.” Pretty as it sounds, life for anyone, even a Dona Luisa, is tough here.

Let me tell you about the first Dona Luisa that I met. She’s the nurse on the project and has a strong, slim frame, short cropped hair and high cheekbones. She sees patients throughout the day and often refers them to the local health clinic for HIV testing. She keeps a log of patients and their HIV status so the project activists (lay health workers) can follow through on treatment adherence and home based care services. I don’t know if she has a husband or children, but I think she probably does. Basic medical services are lacking in Sena so this Luisa is an important conduit to care in the community. She also has some wicked dance steps that I witnessed one evening as I gathered in a circle with other project staff and danced the night away.

The second Dona Luisa I met was actually with the first Luisa. She was a client of the project seeking treatment at the local health clinic for the late stages of AIDS. I’ve never seen someone so near death from AIDS. Trust me, it was difficult to see. It was obvious that this Dona Luisa had been beautiful and was still in what should have been her prime years. However, AIDS had ravaged her frame to a thinness that looked extremely fragile. Her eyes were gaunt, her throat was white with thrush, and a sexually transmitted disease had produced cankerous sores on her most private areas. I only know this because she asked the others to leave the room so she could show me and the project director her suffering. Her sister was caring for her in the clinic as is the custom in Africa, but her husband had abandoned her after realizing she was dying. A couple of her children came to say “goodbye.” I asked if there was morphine to ease her pain, but discovered there was not even a Tylenol. I wished my touch could do more than show my acknowledgement of her deep suffering. She died later that week, and I can’t help but think that this was a blessing. I ask myself how she became infected, whether she was tested in the early or late stages of HIV, and why she had to suffer so much.

The third Dona Luisa was a maid at my little hotel. Before I talk about her, I must tell you that this is the finest hotel in Sena, but the worst hotel I have ever stayed in my entire life. It is brightly decorated with slogans to advertise the local cell phone carrier MCell and has a center courtyard where the proprietor’s goats and dogs live. The room itself is more like a cell than a bedroom because it literally has no windows. The toilet, sink and shower taunt you about better days when there was running water. Lately, women and children ride their bicycles or walk with their jerry cans full of water to fill the barrel from where all water comes. The air conditioning in the room cancelled out all other faults. I would trade running water for ac any day in Sena. It was unfortunate that the hottest day there (about 125 degrees) the electricity went out, and I baked overnight with mosquitoes blistering my flesh. Dona Luisa #3 is beautiful and young. She wears a pink checked outfit like the other maids and seems to have a limited amount of work because the place is never full. Still, she comes every morning about 5 am with the other maids and hollers loudly outside my room about what, I don’t know. This Luisa is probably my daughter’s age, but with a life that many young women could never imagine. Is she educated? Will she marry soon? Will she be a first or second wife?

All in all, I believe the three Luisas are beautiful, strong, courageous women.

CHE

I must admit when I first heard of CHE I had no idea what it was...it only reminded me of Che Guevara. It's an acronym for Community Health Evangelism. I still didn't know what it was. However, I've been doing interviews at work with a couple of projects...the one I'm involved in Mozambique and another in Mexico...about Transformational Development and how it is lived out in the field. I knew that CHE was somehow related.

Well, this week I had a chance to see how it is related by attending a workshop where I was trained with 31 others on the principles of CHE. I would have to say that it was one of the most practical, respectful and humbling trainings that I have ever had. It clearly reminded me of my Community Organizing class, but we had a chance to practice and participate in the Participatory Learning Activities (PLAs) rather than just theoretically learning about them.

Since Transformational Development integrates the spiritual with the physical, social and econmical aspects of life, we learned about how to bring up spiritual topics within community groups. I admired that nothing was forced upon anyone, but the whole person with all their needs was recognized.

We'll see how this plays out for me, but it was foundational for whatever I do.

Just over 4 months and counting!

It's been that long since I've been at my new job...career! I'd like to share some of what I've experienced. I was at a family picnic on Labor Day and someone asked me, "What would be one thing that would summarize your experiences at your new job?" I responded that it was a nurturing environment...especially in my department. You might ask how I am nurtured, and I would say I am mentored, given freedom to spread my wings (and fail - a good way to learn sometimes), and allowed to work managing the project in Mozambique from many different angles (report management, desk research, coordination of communication between partners, etc...).

I also love relational things about my job. I love eating lunch with people from programs or finance or admin...we talk about such funny things (sorry I can't share them all here), and I've even played speed scrabble between bites. Next week I'm going with a group from Africa, Asia and Disaster Response regions to a conference on community health evangelism. I love the inter-departmental interactions, but more importantly I love getting to know people. I even have biked from home to work with a human resource staffer....we're both in our 40's and are proud of ourselves. We'll see what happens when the rains start.

So overall, it's been a wonderful transition for me into practicing public health. As I notice with most of my life experiences, including the bad, they shape me and help me grow as an individual.

I'm right where I should be.

Casey Makes Us Happy

Josiah, Gabrielle and I each have our own friends, but sometimes we come across a friend that we all share. Casey fits that definition. He started out as Josiah's friend in middle-school, then moved to Gabrielle's boyfriend in high school, and has become my friend along the way. He just moved back in town from Spokane. He doesn't have a car or a job yet...and he sleeps on our couch. Somehow I think his job right now is to make us happy. Thanks, Casey.

We are the World....

Today it is fitting to post this video. The last time I saw it was last summer in Burundi at a very unexpected place...in the home of a local Ministry of Health official in rural Kibuye put in the VCR by his 12 year old son. RIP MJ.