Survival.

Survival.

I realized a few days ago that survival is something I never think about. It actually never crosses my mind. I've been to impoverished parts of a handful of countries, and things can be hard, but I've never been to a place where the thought on the forefront of most people's mind is "survival".

Here, many people suffer from a condition called HIV. Lot's of people where I'm from have heard of HIV, but do you know anyone who has it? Do you have it? I met a fellow last week with 16 kids, 3 of which are HIV positive. That's a 17% HIV rate in his family. (In my family- zero percent.) I asked him through a translator how he goes about getting water for their household chores and drinking, etc. (Those folks might walk a couple of miles each day to get some water, hopefully boil it before drinking, but they can get it.) He told me he is worried about getting enough income to get food and send the kids to school. I figured he didn't understand my question and had the translator ask again. He said there's two things he wants- income and food. This man is concerned with survival.

I met a woman today with two kids, her and her husband are positive as well as their first child and they're waiting on the lab results for the youngest. 75% HIV rate. Probably 100%. She's hoping to plant a few rows of cabbage, carrots, or eggplants, maybe rear a goat we give her. Her youngest baby has diarrhea. She is concerned with survival- his and hers both. Those two families are representative of an average family in the villages around here.

[To give you an idea of how things work- we went to a man's house today who was drying out strips of bark from a banana tree to weave into a mat. I'm not sure how many he makes in a month, but he only had one that he was working on. He can sell that in a market for 4,000 shillings- (less than $2.) Two Kg of meat from a market is about 12,000 shillings.]

I can hardly imagine a scenario in my life back home that I'd have to be legitimately concerned with my survival. I might get hit by a bus. Beyond that, the chances of my perishing are vanishingly small. I have plenty and I've never been faced with the possibility that I won't go on living. Lately, I've been learning to not demonize having plenty, but I'm telling you the past week or so I have seen with my own two eyes people who are not sure if they will live or die. And they go about their (extremely hard) work with a smile on their face, thankful for any help they can get from KCRC, but willing to do all they can to survive.

It almost goes without saying that the people I've been getting to know the last few days have made a huge impression on me. It truly is a different world. But this clinic and its volunteers from the community are accomplishing a lot toward improving people's lives and despite all the uncertainty and challenges they face, the atmosphere here is one of optimism and joy.

I wish I could have conveyed the beautiful and inspiring situation more eloquently. But you get the idea. Kabwohe, Bushenyi, Uganda, Africa is unlike any place I have ever been.

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