Peanutbutter and Jam

This past week I met a mother and her child that touched my heart in a very profound way. Walking into her home I noticed that it was one of the sparsest homes I have been in, one table, one cupboard, one stool, a couple dishes... that’s all in the kitchen/dining room/living room. She told us about how her boyfriend works odd jobs that he can find and that his wage is their only income. She wants to apply for a child grant that would give them R220 ($31) a month, but because she doesn’t have an ID of her own she cannot get a birth certificate for her child. Without a birth certificate she cannot get a child grant. To make matters more confusing she can’t get an ID because her and her mother are estranged and her mom won’t sign an affidavit stating that she is her child. For her to get into town to ask what her new options are to get an ID she will have to take a taxi, which she doesn’t have money for, or walk for about an hour and a half, without having eaten breakfast and coming home possibly without eating dinner. It seems as though things are working against her and that no one has been able to help. While Phumeza was translating for me, Phumeza was looking at me, and I looked up at the client and tears were streaming down her face. We asked why she was crying and she said that since they had very little money she didn’t have food to take her medications that she needed daily.... One more hurdle to cross. I was sitting there wondering what we could do to help and we made a plan to speak with social workers and to go to the home office and speak on her behalf on how to get an ID. I couldn’t leave the house knowing that they didn’t have food, so I left my lunch, nothing exciting: a peanut butter and jam sandwich and a plum. When I turned around to say good –bye she had already eaten half the sandwich and had the biggest smile on her face... my heart almost snapped in two...

Our next house was a lovely distraction from our regular work. As we were heading up to the next house a little girl was coming down the path. When she saw me she started crying - a common reaction unfortunately. Kids continue to cry when I’m around as they aren’t used to having a white lady at their home. She ran home and by the time we arrived she was down for a nap. Her house is a mud home currently being built by her mom and grandpa. We sat with them and I questioned them about how they build their mud homes, how long it takes, what kind of mud they use, how they pick the sticks from the bush, etc. The grandpa was keen to fill me in and even spoke English which was great. They told me about how they were going to make the house so that snakes couldn’t get in... um, pardon? Snakes? I have had myself nicely convinced that I wouldn’t encounter another snake while here but it turns out that all these homes that I have been in all day have snakes living behind there cardboard wall paper and hiding in between their metal sheeted walls. I really could have gone this whole year without learning that info. They thought that it was hilarious that I became squeamish and wanted to keep moving, but all I could think of was a snake weaving its way out of the wall behind me (shivers). They also told me stories of how mom’s have come into the house after fetching water only to find a snake curled up with their baby on the floor. The mom then has to wait for the snake to leave on its own accord for if they try to chase it away it will bite the child. Can you imagine sitting and watching as a snake had a nap with your baby?! 

I'VE FOUND THE OCEAN

Hello beach! I have moved to a new town named Port Alfred. It is a gorgeous coastal holiday destination and I have been lucky enough to be posted here!

One of the most interesting parts of Port Alfred for I have found is the blatant economic disparity. In the middle of the town are multimillion dollar ocean front homes with beautiful boats and Land Rovers securely tucked behind guards and an electric fence. Ten minutes outside of the town center you arrive in the area where I work -there are no boats, very few cars and only barbed wire fences.

    In my first week working in this location I was welcomed with a high rate of HIV – telling me that we are definitely needed. Although people have heard of HIV and know that they should get tested few do because they are afraid of the stigma that chases people who are diagnosed positive. It doesn’t take long for someone to leave the clinic after picking up a prescription known to be HIV meds for most people in the neighbourhood to know that they are positive. With the high rate of HIV I have often wondered what people still have to talk about, almost every fifth house has someone who is HIV positive, so why is there still need to gossip? Although we educate everyone that it is very important to be diagnosed early many state that they would rather not know.... ignorance is bliss? Not when it comes to your HIV status.

Last week while the counsellor was chatting with a woman I was secretly assessing her 11 month old daughter. Her daughter had this deep purple blistery rash across her arms and legs that I didn’t like the look of. When I got her a little closer I noticed she had a round firm little belly.... I asked her mom what the rash was and she said that she was told it was an allergy to milk. I asked if she was eating well and mom said yes, but why was her belly so distended? Something wasn’t right here... The mom was telling us about how her brother that she lives with is HIV positive and has defaulted from his medication. We were counselling her on the importance of taking ARV’s everyday when her test results came back positive. Once I saw that the mom was positive I just knew that her daughter was going to be too... and she was. An eleven month old baby being positive for HIV is a hard reality for me to understand. I can’t imagine what the mother was feeling. We did our best to encourage her that she and her baby can have a healthy life. Sometimes I leave a house feeling totally helpless, and this case was one of them. The counsellor I was working with is really good, and is able to speak to people in a manner that really gets through to people. I know that the mom understood everything we said, but still, we left that house having told her that her baby has a Virus that everyone in South Africa is afraid of.

Mothers are encouraged as much as humanly possible to get tested during their pregnancy but some refuse. Everyone has their own reasons; some are simply just too scared of the, ‘what if’. The mother of the 11 month old girl had been tested during her pregnancy. She may have been in the window period when she was tested, or she may not have contracted it yet. Unfortunately she wasn’t tested prior to delivery or she could have been given medication to help prevent her child from contracting the virus. A colleague of mine tested a woman who is nine months pregnant last week and she turned out to be positive. She hadn’t tested previously and was due any day. Hopefully she will have an HIV free baby! I followed up with her a couple days after testing and she had already been to the hospital and has started treatment – things are looking good. She has a c-section booked for the end of the month and I already made a date to go back and hold the baby.

On a side note I need to tell you all about the mail system here... Out of the +20 postcards and letters that I have sent out to you only two have made it to their destination. Please know that I’m thinking of all of you, and that I’ve tried to send out a little South African love... it just doesn’t want to leave Africa.... On the other hand two deliveries sent from Canada haven’t made it to me either... A kind man turned in my rejected envelope that he found on the roadside, unfortunately the contents were nowhere to be found, it seems that a man working for the post office here enjoyed my parcel....