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| Words or pictures cannot do the landscape of Swaziland justice. |
"When you give a dinner or a supper, do not ask...your relatives, nor rich neighbors, lest they also invite you back, and you be repaid. But...invite the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind. And you will be blessed." Luke 14:12-14 NKJV
I am writing today about yesterday (Thursday) and* today. Yesterday we went with the HIV/AIDS Task Force to visit HIV/TB patients. It was a real eye-opener to see how many people had AIDS AND TB. The first house we went to, the man had both diseases. We got to talk to him with the help of a Swazi pastor who spoke English and siSwati that went with us on all the visits. We prayed for him, and sang for him. Then we presented him with a bucket full of food items prepared by the Task Force. When we showed him the food, he was so thankful; he just kept thanking us. The two women who were also in the house kept thanking us as well. The man had been out of work for a while because of the TB, which made him weak. It was a blessing to see how thankful he was just for the small amount of food we brought.
The second lady we visited was a young, single mother. She had three kids, I think. She had AIDS and TB. Who will take care of her kids if she dies? I think this question was going through all of our heads as we visited with her.
The third man we saw absolutely devastated me. He is one of those faces I will remember for the rest of my life. He was sitting outside on a grass mat in the dirt outside a hut. When we talked to him we found out he, like the others, had TB and AIDS. TB is a serious problem in Swaziland. They don't have the proper medical treatment to take care of it, or the proper nutrition to help keep it from becoming a tremendous problem. Often, people will die of TB before they die of AIDS, even though AIDS is the more serious condition medically. So here sat three out of three people of the day with both conditions. He lived with his stepmother and her family. We found out through our pastor friend who was translating for us, that this family of his actually locked him out of the house. They didn't let him in because they didn't want to become infected. He let us pass around a little medical book of his. In the front, I notice his birth date. The year was 1980. I'm not too good at math, but I know enough to know that means he is only 31 years old. I saw another date in the book, the date he was tested for HIV/AIDS. November 2010. The book was a medical record keeping book. It showed doctor's visits, and was supposed to keep track of when he took the ArVs (Antiretroviral medication). This medication, once started, must be taken every day for the rest of a patient's life at the same time each day. This man was taking his medicine like he should be. Sometimes on an empty stomach. You know those warnings on Tylenol or Ibuprofen labels that say they should be taken with food? Well that is for a reason. So, the man would take his medicine on an empty stomach. Do you know what would happen then? He would throw up. vomit. Regurgitate the pills that were supposed to help him because he couldn't get the food he needed to nourish his body. All because his family locked him outside his house because they didn't want to get infected. This kind of reminds me of the leper colonies in the Bible, the people who were cast off from society because they were "unclean". Or it sort of resembles those out of the ordinary, strange, kind of exceptional people we cast off all the time. Because...they're too old. mentally handicapped. dirty. Muslims. gay. drug users. poor. ugly. black. white. Hispanic. atheists. sick. unwed mothers. People are labeled "Unclean". Unfit for society, unnecessary, and then cast off. This man was cast off by his own family. Left to starve and vomit his medicine taken, in the fist place, for a fatal disease. It was really hard to hear that this was this man's life. This is a man living on the same earth as me, breathing in the same air. recycling the same oxygen, created by the same God. But he was living like this. At the end of the day, I get to go home to a guesthouse and eat a hot meal. take a hot shower. have fellowship with friends. sleep in a warm bed. But this man, he will be, as far as I know, outside lying on a mat. To see a human in such despair, in such a hopeless situation was unbearable. I broke down. The moment I heard that he vomited up his antiretroviral drugs I couldn't stop myself. Even if we were in a group. I sucked back the tears as best I could, but they still flowed. I blotted them with my skirt. But I felt anguish in my heart. We presented him with the bucket of food. He was so thankful for it. I was thankful that we could bring him some food. The Task Force visits him regularly, as I understand, so I just hope they are able to continue bringing him food. At the end of our time with each person, we prayed with them and sang. We had been singing "Jesus loves me". I didn't even want to sing it at that point. We had just heard about a man who threw up his AIDS medication because he was starving, and his family locked him out of his house. Now we were supposed to sing about how much Jesus loved him. Where was any love in this situation? The compassion of the Task Force, yes. Us being there, yes. But what about in general? What about day to day life for this man? Where was God's love? So I just had a really hard time singing "Jesus loves me." I think everyone was having a hard time, because we were all quieter this time around. Our song was weak. I know I wasn't believing what I was singing in that moment. Then, before we left, the man asked when we were coming back to see him.** We all just stood there. What the HECK do you even say to that? The pastor explained that we were just visiting from America. That's about all you can say I guess. I was thinking that I don't know if I will be back. We keep getting asked when we will be back. I don't know if I ever will, but I can't look someone in the eye and say, "I'm not coming back." The whole situation with that man was hard for me to face. I think seeing that man and working with The Luke Commission were the two hardest things for me emotionally. Just trying to take in the amount of HIV/AIDS that is in this country, and seeing it first hand, even affecting little kids is just overwhelming to take in; plus, seeing their living condition and their poverty. Its just so sad.
The rest of the day was easier emotionally. There were still some sad situations, but the rest of the people seemed more hopeful, and more joyful. I think the poverty and living conditions make me feel more sad than HIV because the HIV makes people's lives shorter, but the other things are things they deal with on a day to day basis that make lives miserable. This week so far has been the epitome of an emotional roller coaster because I have seen so much poverty, sickness, disease, hunger, and despair. At the same time I have seen people full of hope, and giving us what they have. They are so happy to see us coming to them. The last man we visited said, "You are like Jesus, he left heaven to come to earth, and you left your beautiful home in America to visit your less fortunate brothers and sisters in Africa." He asked us to thank everyone in America for caring about Africa, and to not forget our suffering brothers and sisters. I couldn't believe he compared us to Jesus. We should be caring about our fellow mankind. Jesus calls us to that, whether at home or overseas. Also, nothing we have done here has been on our own. Everything we have done has been alongside the Swazi organizations already doing God's work here, like the Luke Commission, SIFE, and the Task Force. The Swazis are already hard at work. They are leading the way to aide their people. Its amazing to see what they have been doing here.
Until Then,
Holly Peffer
*I never actually wrote a journal entry about Friday, but I will explain in a blog what we did on that day. Also, some of this wasn't originally part of my journal, but I added it in to help explain the situation. The same is true with most of the blogs.
** I think this man, just the fact that he wanted to be visited, reminded me of the duty to our shut-ins, and other "cast off" sort of people. How many people just want someone to come visit them? In the words of a Clay Aiken song, "How many people in this world, so needful in this world, how many people are praying for love?"
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