I’m constantly amused by how happy I can feel here, in the presence of so much sorrow and suffering. It seems completely ridiculous to my thinking brain when I realize how little I have, at least in contrast to what I’m used to having, and then considering exactly how much this is in comparison with those around me. It’s like I can somehow feel the happiness, or maybe it’s contentment, so much easier here, as there is less to distract from it. Perhaps it’s the contrast, or as M calls it, “living closer to the bone”. Life and death and water and Earth are so present here, there is no glossing over them or ignoring or cleaning and sanitizing them away. I have to learn to exist in their presence. Or maybe I have to learn to let their presence exist more fully in mine.
In some ways I’m living the life I always envisioned for myself, surrounded by somewhat diverse people who generally give a shit and are actively doing something to at least begin to speculate about how to change the world, make it a touch better. In other ways my generally healthy sense of cynicism becomes a mad crazy rabid beast fighting to kill any innocent idealism I may have been harboring as I am confronted with the reality of the situation here in Seronga. AIDS didn’t happen overnight, and it didn’t happen in a vacuum. Behavior change is tough, and made even more so here in Botswana as the culture (and unfortunately the color of my skin) dictates that when I ask a question or speak, the people here nearly always answer in the affirmative, or at least give you an answer, whether based in fact or not, so as not to disappoint you. I don’t believe anyone is deliberately trying to be difficult, but there is also a general lack of education and sense of intimidation that I battle against with every smile and greeting I try to give.
I often think about Maslow’s hierarchy here, and I’ve noticed that it’s when my needs and what is available to me move down on the pyramid that I feel closer to some sort of actualization. When I have to focus on how to get water in a purified enough state to drink without spontaneously vomiting, I feel more evolved, or actualized. When a woman comes into the clinic speaking a language I generally don’t understand and through some combination of miming, sign language and each of us repeating the few words of the other’s language we know and understand, I can get her something she needs, I feel supreme accomplishment. It seems when everything is harder, things are also simpler.
When I lift up a piece of clothing to not find a lizard or spider scurrying from underneath it I feel kind of ecstatic. When I feel a breeze against my skin that’s not filled with dust I am grateful. When I twist the knob and on the faucet and I see and feel the stream of water coming out, rather than hearing the hissing and gurgling of air which means no water, I am happy for the simplicity this offers over having to collect water from outside across the yard in the dark. I still can’t directly drink it, but it’s closer to easy.
When something simple goes awry, I find that I can sometimes have more patience with it, as it is so clear to me that there was and is nothing I can do to change it. When something simple actually happens that I would normally take for granted, like the post woman being at the post office when she says she’s going to I smile so fully, and if she actually has mail for me I nearly cry with joy.
These are all things that happen when I feel blessed. There are also times when I sink into depths of self pity, and feel rage against the difficulty in the simple things. A woman who speaks only Sasarwa who walks three kilometers to have her wounded foot bandaged at the clinic by people who don’t speak her language. A baby dying for lack of simple hygiene or a medicine that would be plentiful most other places on Earth. A woman with five children contracting HIV because there is no way for her to support herself other than to sleep with a man without a condom, as he will pay more for her to have sex with him this way. The apathy that runs rampant in this culture, and can be the only thing one sees if you don’t look harder, and search deeper for something more. And why can’t I just drink the water!!!???
And these feelings could take over, and sometimes do, but I’ve found my life is much more bearable if when these thoughts and experiences come to the forefront of my mind I just let them continue on through, and out the other side. I can usually mange to think back to why I came here, and I can summon some excitement for the opportunity that exists in the presence of so much sorrow. Simple things can change lives. And if I can’t conjure up excitement for that I can at least feel pleasure in the moment of knowing that I am living in the presence of the integrity of doing what I said I was going to do.
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