Perspective

I crawled out of bed feeling achy this morning, my throat was parched and sore. There are these ridiculously vicious guard dogs that yowl miserably all night and I hadn’t slept well. Grumpy, tired and sick…oh and it was cloudy outside. I felt down-right sorry for myself, this was not going to be a good day. I fought myself into the crowded minivan, then onto the bodaboda swerving taxis, bumping through muddy potholes to get to Kisenyi to start the surveys with the research assistants.

It was an ‘outreach’ day, free HIV testing for kids today so folks came from all over. Instead of going to women’s homes, we talked to those who were attending the clinic. The first interview of the day was with a 39 year-old woman. Her outfit was swirls of peach, yellow and green with an elegant matching headdress. She walked slowly and appeared weary. Her voice was soft as she eagerly agreed to complete the survey with us, despite the fact that it would slow her down in getting to see the nurse. As the story unfurled, she described her painful two-hour journey on swollen tender feet. She was HIV positive and here to get her children tested for HIV. When we were finished, she gently took my hand and thanked me in her soft voice, not letting go. She said it was so good we were starting this program, because she definitely needed to be screened for cervical cancer since she was HIV positive… when our program got started, and if she was still alive, like in a year or two, she would do the screening she said. Her sincere, dark eyes spoke volumes of hope.

Perspective. My throat suddenly felt better and my heart was humbled. This was thanks I did not deserve.

As my wise slum-dwelling little sister says, "I am glad that you are having a back to the basics time in Uganda (oops, I mean, the country of Africa). I find spending some time acompañando a mujeres [walking with women] in a slum is good for the soul. Brings you back to what the world is about, to why you do what you do and helps realign priorities.