Hey guys!
Real quick, I put up some pictures of my trip from Morija to Malealea. Click Here.
It’s late, I’m tired, and testing begins this friday, so i’m stressin, too. This topic probably deserves a much better post, but i figured i’d get it down while it’s still fresh in my head.
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Today my school had a nearby hospital come and do HIV testing and counseling. It went really well. So many of my students tested, I’ve never been more proud of them. They were nervous and scared but nearly all of them stuck with each other and did it.
I tested with one of my students and two others I don’t know as well. We walked into a classroom where a really upbeat nurse told us what to expect in Sesotho(i didn’t really understand much of it). He opened up a fresh pack of finger prickers, poked us, and put our blood on a test strip that told us a result in 15 minutes. He then talked to each of us individually about our results.
I spent most of my time motivating students that were on the fence…and checking to see how everyone was after getting their results. One of my students was scared stiff. The last time he went he had tested false-positive, and had not gone back like he was supposed to, to confirm his negative status. He was really uncomfortable…even shaking. After testing, he greeted me, nearly bursting through his skin. He had again tested negative.
Some of the kids were really serene, though. I’d see girls confiding to each other privately, guys hanging on the fence, trying to act tough, obviously distressed. Some of them certainly had the kind of day no 16 year old kid should ever have to experience. Finding out you are HIV positive in America is a whopper of a life changer. Can you imagine in Africa, where the older generation thinks it means you are cursed…where health care is anything but certain, where the only positive things you’ve heard about living with HIV are from the accented mouth of your weird, crazy white teacher who really doesn’t understand the first thing about your life? “Whopper of a life changer,” doesn’t quite do justice to what these kids are experiencing.
I’ve spent the last several months convincing these guys that knowing your status can only be a good thing. These kids threw their fears out the window and took a leap of faith, deciding that testing really was a good choice after all. Hm. I hope, after today, these kids can still believe me.
{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
So now what happens for the kids that find out they are positive? Is there someone to counsel them, and direct them to medical care? Have you been educated on the stage 3 of this? (1st stage-to educate,,,2nd stage testing…3rd stage…what to do if positive) As I say all the time…I am soooo proud of you. You are making a difference, and you will have a positive ripple effect. Hugs MOM
I am happy to see that you spent so much time with your students preparing them mentally and emotionally for the test and how to handle the results. As an HIV Counselor (and tester) back here in the states I firmly believe that the majority of the real work that goes on is centered on truly assessing a client’s emotions, educating them, then helping them establish their own goals and realistic action plans to reduce HIV transmission (such as safer sex practices, etc). I guess understanding people is the real fundamental key in being successful in the aforementioned list.
“Whooper of a life changer” is quotable. Nice
I’m not sure of how to join this subject other than to say that the first AIDS death in Houston, Harris County was our next door neighbor when we lived on Crawford Street which was an extension of Montrose, the Gay enclave of Houston. Within months of that first death, AIDS swept through the inner-city killing a substantial portion of the male gay population.
Your Aunt Elaine and I joined a secret group who provided home health care to AIDS victims–it was years later that HIV was identified–which was done in complete secrecy since to have done it publicly would have risked our jobs and other relationships; as close as I was to your Grandfather it was years later that I told him about it. The general public still thought that the most casual of contact could transmit the disease from person to person.
It was a scary time not knowing what caused it but still working with the victims. It was a sad time, watching our friends lose weight until they weighed sixty or seventy pounds before dying after only four to six months of illness. Couples broken up, some in mourning to this day.
It was truly a scourge, and what you are seeing in your village is what we saw in our neighborhoods.
U.B.
Wow, Uncle Bubba, what an amazing story. That is truly a brave thing to go and help people having no understanding of where the disease is coming from. Now, thank god we have ARVs and PEP treatments to counteract the disease. Even in the most remote places in Africa, people can get the proper treatment if they are educated and want it badly enough. The problem lies in the Stigma of the disease. No one wants to talk about it. There is between a 23 and 28% infection rate in the country of Lesotho, and still the whole country seems to be in denial. People die of a ‘broken finger’ or a ‘headache’ here, as no one wants to admit the truth. It’s a painful, painful thing to watch. I can only imagine what you were going through in your community before any kind of decent understanding or treatments were available.
See you are following in the destiny of your family. A cool legacy to continue…little did you know what Uncle Bubba, and Aunt Elaine were really up too. Nice story.