The third weekend in Botswana was very low-key and I actually found myself bored, which was incredibly frustrating for me because here I was in a foreign country and I felt trapped because I didn't know what was going on, where anything was and how to get anywhere. I really wished we were provided more comprehensive country training so we could be more independent and do some exploring on our terms and not as a group of 20.
But I digress, Saturday for Zach's birthday we went out to the Grand Palm for some dinner and gambling where we had a lovely buffet for P130, which seemed really expensive at the time, but in retrospect was still only $20+ dollars, which is very reasonable for a buffet dinner. Then we went to "Fashion Lounge" in Phakalane and had to bargain to talk them down from the P60 cover charge they were trying to scam us. Being there, listening to the most monotonous house music ever and paying close to P40 for drinks, I just was so struck at the dichotomy between the rich and poor areas of the country. Here we were in the most exclusive club in Botswana in the richest suburb of the country, and everyday we drive through Old Naledi, the poorest suburb of Gabs where the last thing people would spend their pula on is a P60 cover charge to get into an overrated night club.
Sunday we were hoping to get to travel to South Africa to see one of the two semifinal games in the Confederations cup, but alas, being overconfident Americans we were wrong in assuming that we could get tickets the week before to an international soccer tournament. While trying to find answers on FIFA's website I learned that there were two selling periods months before the tournament and that they used a lottery system to determine who got tickets. So instead I watched the first game with the usual crowd in the TV room where we witnessed the greatest soccer game I've ever watched. Let me be clear, I'm in no way a soccer fan and will openly admit that the only time I really watch soccer is when it's the "cool" time to do it (If that makes me a soccer whore, so be it). That being said, I was on the edge of my seat when South Africa made the penalty kick in extra time to send the game into overtime and was heartbroken when Spain scored to win. Then we managed to rig up Karabo's TV in our room so we could be loud and obnoxious while rooting for the US to beat Brazil. Once again I was more excited than I've ever been for a soccer game (partly because it was the US in the finals miraculously and partly because the excited atmosphere bred more excitement). When at halftime we were up 2-0 , everyone was overjoyed and we had a passionate discussion about the revitalization of interest in soccer in the US. I remember thinking that somewhere between when we're kids and adults something gets lost because every kid I've ever known has played soccer at one point (possibly because you can play as soon as you start walking and don't need a whole lot of hand-eye coordination at first), but as you get older and it gets more competitive the interest just dies down. That was the last time that evening we felt happy, because in the second half Brazil came back with a vengeance with three unanswered goals, giving them first place and international bragging rights. I went to bed bitter and angry at the missed opportunity, even though second place for the US is an amazing accomplishment and gives hope for future tournaments (including the World Cup).
The second week of work, we got to reap the benefits of all the phone calls we made the first week and every day we were out of the office and very busy. On Monday our first stop was the Center for Youth of Hope (CEYOHO), an organization that provides clinical care for PLWA's and look to combat some of the social stigmas against the disease. The pinnacle achievement of the organization is that it hosts a "Miss Stigma Free Pageant" every year where women who are HIV-positive compete in a beauty pageant that is covered by the media of the country. Because of all of the coverage of the event, the winner has a forum to advocate for those living with the disease. The contest was started in 2005 when Cynthia Leshomo, arguably one of the most outspoken activists in the AIDS community in Botswana and abroad, became the first Miss Stigma Free. I was fascinated by the concept of combating the stigma that people with AIDS are disgusting with a beauty pageant and also how the director of CEYOHO is living with the disease herself and very pregnant (but with ARVs can give birth to a perfectly healthy baby).
The second stop Monday morning was Humana People to People, another example of an international movement with local offices all over the world (HPP has 188 projects in 42 different countries). Because of their international status they receive plenty of funding both from international donors and from the National AIDS Coordinating Association (NACA), the government's office for funneling money to AIDS NGOs. My guess is this is because Botswana is hoping to build relationships with Western countries through their joint efforts to combat AIDS. It's an effective strategy to form partnerships, and its very clear that such partnerships are necessary to keep NGOs doing really great work running, but I can't help but think that, while these international NGOs have the capacity to reach more people, their efforts aren't as effective because they don't necessarily understand the culture here, and grassroots NGOs which are structured to be effective are struggling financially because there is so much competition for donor funding. In any case, what I found the most interesting about Humana People to People is that they work with traditional healers, training them and empowering them to talk to people about AIDS, or at the very least refer clients to get tested at a clinic. This is so important because when you ask people and organizations why, despite the fact that Botswana has the fastest growing economy in Africa, a highly structured network for funding AIDS NGOs and a government that supports comprehensive education and free ARVs, why AIDS is still such a big problem the answer you get over and over again is "culture." Part of this culture is that people still rely on traditional healers over doctors, and these traditional healers look at the disease as punishment for sin. The only way to truly empower the people in rural areas that still hold on to these traditional values is to address the source of their information and work with healers.
Our third and final stop Monday afternoon was to the Evangelical Lutheran Church, where we met with Hedwig a woman from Houston who is in Botswana through the church system (primarily through the partnership of the ELCA and ELCB) and are here to help the church with their current AIDS initiatives. It was refreshing talking to her because unlike the Catholic Church, which won't even approach the issue of contraception, the Lutheran Church concedes that contraception is a key part of the solution because the message of abstinence will not work with everyone, especially in a culture that promotes sex with multiple partners. The church works to advocate for children's rights (specifically children who have been orphaned by AIDS), and has a house for people living with the disease who are terminally ill.
Tuesday we started our day at Lifeline, an organization that offers counseling both over the phone and in-house for an array of issues besides AIDS including relationships, abuse, addiction, etc. The biggest challenge they face is funding because, since they aren't specifically an AIDS service organization, they don't qualify for AIDS money. As a result, they can't keep their toll-free hotline open 24 hours so if people needing counseling don't call during office hours they are referred to another number where they have to pay to talk to a counselor. The other problem they run into is they don't have a facility to house people and therefore people fall through the cracks. The woman we were talking to, Mma Mooki, who is a consultant paid by large corporations to help NGOs formulate business plans, write grants, and establish structure for stability (a job I could see myself doing much later in life), tells a story about a 19-year-old boy who was suicidal and because he wasn't a woman he couldn't go to a women's shelter, he wasn't a kid he couldn't go to a childcare center, and he wasn't sick so he couldn't go to the hospital. So Mma Mooki called the Minister of Labor and said she was going to drop him off at his doorstep if he doesn't come up with more funding for Lifeline. I really admired her ferocity and strength, she candidly talked about how her first husband was abusive and how she now works to support other people going through similar traumatic events.
Early Tuesday afternoon we visited Salvation Army Psychosocial Support Initiatve (SAPSSI), a coalition of five area churches that provide youth camps and programs in schools to educate children about HIV and AIDS. As far as site visits go, I didn't find this visit particularly interesting, what was more interesting was talking to Jenny about SAPSSI's shortcomings, specifically how their talks in classes can sometimes lack participation so there is really no way to tell whether the kids are being reached. While we were waiting for our driver to pick us up in the ridiculously inappropriate and pimped out Jeep Patriot that the finance department thought was appropriate to get for an NGO using Forum Syd's money, I was sitting outside and a little boy who lived in Old Naledi (where SAPSSI is located) came up to me and sat down. He was only about two or three years old and was decked out in a Power Rangers hat and a sweatshirt that said "Funky" and he was out just wandering around the neighborhood unsupervised. He was fascinated by my watch and a paper fortune teller I made in the car ride over and I sat there and talked to him even though he didn't talk back. Sitting there with that little kid, I wondered what sort of life he had to look forward to. Because of where he lives he may or may not go to school, he may or may not lose his parents during his childhood, he may already be sick. I wanted to take that kid and bring him back with me, give him chances that he would never have there, but I knew I couldn't and I felt very sad as we drove away.
Our final stop on Tuesday was outside of Gabs on the way towards Lobatse in Otse, where we visited Otse Home Based Care. We met with a nurse and a volunteer there and they talked about how they do house visits and offer counseling and care to people bed-ridden with the disease. They also grow food and send food baskets to people out in the village. They are facing a number of issues though, because of lack of funding they don't have a vehicle so volunteers have to walk when they make home visits, limiting them to one to two visits a day because the village is so big. They also have issues with family members stealing food baskets from patients who they've stopped caring for and selling them for beer (alcoholism is another debilitating social epidemic in Botswana). They still manage to do the best they can and have probably one of the nicer facilities we've seen. In order to generate funds they sew and sell purses, bags and dolls (like the one pictured below) which actually has been very successful and breaks the traditional garden and beads model we saw everywhere else.
I really liked the village of Otse, it was much more open and rural and surrounded by hills on all sides. As we were leaving and the sun was setting I took a moment to breathe in the fresh air and look around and it just reminded me so much of being in El Salvador and being in the villages there. I feel like if I ever come back to Botswana to do service work I'd like to stay somewhere like Otse where I'd have to walk everywhere and could go hiking, but could also catch the bus into Gabs when I start to feel too isolated.
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