every day here seems like a lifetime. there are things that open your eyes, move your heart, and bring tears to your eyes. its easy to overlook the impact of the AIDS/HIV by solely focusing on the adults. we visited the pediatric arv clinic on wednesday. you look at the children and see their moms and realize that it is not only the children but the mother who are infected with HIV/AIDS (transmission to children is usually during pregnancy, labor, and breastfeeding). in my mind, when you picture someone who has a chronic illness, i picture a scarlett letter branding, but when you look at the individual, they look like any other child or adult. the hardest part of the being with the children is seeing how starved they are for affection, how much they need human contact, how hardened their eyes and face have become because of the experiences that they have endured. the dilemma that arises: where do you draw the line where you share yourself with everyone and that part of you that you that must remain private; where do you draw the line of doing that one extra thing for someone and where you are sacrificing yourself.
we got to see a birth yesterday, besides the obvious fact that this is a resource poor setting and this in turn limits the healthcarer's ability to provide treatment and care, the most disturbing part of the whole process was the silencing of the woman's voice. her birthing process was defined by others, out of her control, and made to decrease the healthcarer's inconvenience.
someone told me that going to africa changes you.
every day here seems like a lifetime. there are things that open your eyes, move your heart, and bring tears to your eyes. its easy to overlook the impact of the AIDS/HIV by solely focusing on the adults. we visited the pediatric arv clinic on wednesday. you look at the children and see their moms and realize that it is not only the children but the mother who are infected with HIV/AIDS (transmission to children is usually during pregnancy, labor, and breastfeeding). in my mind, when you picture someone who has a chronic illness, i picture a scarlett letter branding, but when you look at the individual, they look like any other child or adult. the hardest part of the being with the children is seeing how starved they are for affection, how much they need human contact, how hardened their eyes and face have become because of the experiences that they have endured. the dilemma that arises: where do you draw the line where you share yourself with everyone and that part of you that you that must remain private; where do you draw the line of doing that one extra thing for someone and where you are sacrificing yourself.
we got to see a birth yesterday, besides the obvious fact that this is a resource poor setting and this in turn limits the healthcarer's ability to provide treatment and care, the most disturbing part of the whole process was the silencing of the woman's voice. her birthing process was defined by others, out of her control, and made to decrease the healthcarer's inconvenience.
someone told me that going to africa changes you. 
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