Miraculous South Africa

Islamango means miracle in Zulu, and its a very appropriate name for the wetlands park I visited this weekend. But let me start at the beginning of my adventure, in a rental car with two other friendly interns also determined to see the best of South Africa during their time here. We headed along the coast, North of Durban for about three hours before we reached Dave's Backpackers' hostel, a backpackers hostel on the edge of Hluhluwe Game Reserve.

A blind dalmatian greeted us with a half hearted bark, and the only creature at reception was a tiny tabby cat curled up under the light. However, a beaded curtain swung back, revealing the kitchen where boleworst (South African susage) was sizzling, giving off a slightly sour but still tempting smell, and Dave emerged.

Dave is a rugged Afrikaner with the name of his hostel tattooed on his chest. When I mentioned he therefore must be very committed to his business, he broke into a soliloquy on how the hostel was like his wife.... she was good to him if he was good to her, and they only fought when money was tight.

Soon we were ushered into our dorm room. The door was off its bottom hinges, and there was no hot water, but the beds were comfy and the place was clean.We chowed down on the boleworst Dave had been cooking and threw back a beer, before heading to bed, planning an early rise to get to the game park.

The morning light revealed that Dave's place really was a gem in the rough. The rolling hills of acia trees and cacti sparkled in the early morning sun. We helped ourselves to coffee and toast and then piled back into our rental car and headed for the game park.
Now I've been on numerous safaris, but I never get tired to gazing at giraffe picking the leaves off an acia tree, or watching the slow way elephants lumbar through the forest, simply crushing or breaking anything in their way. We saw buffalo and zebras, buck and rhinos. Before we knew it, the sun was setting and we headed back to Dave's hostel.

The hostel had the feeling of a friendly neighbourhood and the various guests (including a Dutch scuba diver, a Swiss actor, two middle aged ladies from South Africa and Australia, an eccentric Swede, and British business man) were happy to chat, swap stories and advise on future travel plans. I soon found myself in good company at the campfire, under the African stars, with a glass of wine in my hand - and perfectly content.

The next day things only got better. The town of St. Lucia is a picturesque beach town, with outdoor patios and palm trees. The Islamango estuary that makes up the park is an UNESCO world hertitage site and boast some of the most varied species of birds and plant life, as well as elephants, leopards, Buffalo, hippos and crocs. We went on a fabulous boat tour, where we saw hippos and crocs close up, but the highlight of the day was when we headed down to the estuary beach. After playing in the Indian Ocean, we sat down on the boardwalk from where we could see - all in one view - the sun setting, the moon rising, the ocean waves, the mirrored surface of the estuary, a few crocodiles, and a pod of hippos playing in the water.

It was a miraculous weekend!

Champaign Skies

Apparently Durban is experiencing a cold spell, but right now the sun is shining through my window and warming me quite nicely. After all it is 23 degrees – an average summer temperature in Canada or the UK.
I’m sitting on the couch having devoured a whole pineapple. I’m still reveling in all the South African treats I’ve miss since I lived her over 10 years ago – fresh tropical fruit, double decked Cadbury bars, muesli rusks, litchi juice….. the list goes on.
From where I’m sitting I see out the two French doors of my cottage, over the tops of the trpocial trees and then just catch a glimpse of the ocean. The ski is perfect cloudless blue. In the evenings it turns a pale pinky yellow that one of my colleagues told me is called ‘Champaign ski.’
I’ve started work at HEARD and am already happily up to my eyeballs in readings about HIV and care, and helping the communications department with websites and other projects. The office is a busy place, with about 30 researchers working on projects ranging from how to improve services for children orphaned by AIDS, to how to increase the capacity of health systems to better address AIDS care and treatment needs.
I’ve also had a good dose of South Africa culture. On Saturday I was invited to the ultimate South African event – a brai to watch the rugby game. We munched on yummy bratwurst rolls and cheered on the South African Springboks who won just in the nick of time.
Now its mid week and I’m experiencing my first ‘real’ work week in eight months (student life does not count as ‘real work’ as week days and weekends blur into one). I’m actually enjoying being busy and useful at the same time as exploring this lovely country. This weekend I’m off to iSlmangaliso Wetlands Park, so stayed tuned incase I have any adventures with hippos and crocodiles.
Peace, x.

Rotary World Peace Symposium

I’ve just returned from a remarkable three days at the Rotary Peace Symposium. I heard my hero, Desmond Tutu, speak. I learned a great deal from former Peace Fellows during workshops, and met many inspiring people. It was a remarkable few days and I wish I had time to write about it in detail. However, I’m hastely packing my bags for South Africa and just don’t have time to do the symposium justice. So instead can I please direct you to rotary’s website where you can check out photos, watch a clip of Desmond Tutus speach and catch a glimps of the fabulous few days I spent celebrating the great work Rotary does for peace.

On the disciplin of Caring Too Much

I’ve started, albeit slowly, to conceptualize my dissertation topic. In a recent meeting with my supervisor he told me, “You have two problems. You care and you care too much.” (I think he likes to pretend to be an academic drill sergeant.) He went on to rant about academic discipline….. blah blah blah…. I smiled sweetly and didn’t say what I wanted to say – that I can fake academic discipline if he wants and write a very objective dry dissertation but he won’t snuff the caring out of me. That I’m not afraid of “being too soft heart” when I’m doing field research with people living with HIV/AIDS, because I’ve already seen people both live with and die from it. I wanted to tell him how I decided on this topic, but I applied academic discipline and kept it to myself. Instead I’ll write about it here.

Firstly, this is my topic: Discuss how AIDS treatment policy in South Africa influences the distribution of the burden of care. (How very dry sounding… blah!)

Secondly, here is the story that led to it…… about four years ago, when I was first working at Emmanuel Center a young women, about 17 years old, showed up at the center. She said she had come to inquire if we had space for her brother. Her parents had just died of AIDS, and while she and her older brother were able to fend for themselves, they did not have enough to care for their youngest brother, Tim, who was just seven. I explained sadly Emmanuel Center was full and there was no room for another child. She broke down in tears and said she had walk over 12 hours to come ask us and she couldn’t face going back to the slum where she lived. I offered her lunch, and suggested she call back in a month in case we had space then. I felt horribly guilty for sending her back without more help.
Luckily, she was determined for Tim to get an education and continued to pester Emmanuel Center until we made space for him. When we took the boy for the routine health test we were not surprised to learn he was HIV positive.
This past summer I was back at Emmanuel Center when Tim’s sister showed up once more at the gates, this time to visit Tim for the afternoon. As I sat and watched her ask him about school I suddenly became angry that they were separated from each other (we had tried to arrange for Tim to live with her and Emmanuel Center just support his school fees, but since she was struggling to support herself she was moving every month or so, and so unable to provide him the security he needed).
Having worked with people with HIV/AIDS in Canada I knew that many people with HIV/AIDS were now able to live for decades with the virus because had access to anti-retroviral drugs and healthcare. I thought about how Tim’s parents had never even had access to medications, clean water or nutritious food. I thought – if they lived in Canada they would still be alive and caring for Tim, but because they were poor Kenyans Tim is an orphan. I thought about how in the Western world HIV positive mothers do not pass on the virus to their babies because they have the right medications and information. I looked at Tim and thought about how much longer and happier his life could be.

Tim is an example of what Paul Farmer terms, “inequality in risk, access and outcomes.” He was at risk of getting HIV because his mother was poor and had to breast feed, his parents did not have access to medications because they live in Africa, and the outcome (Tim being an orphan and HIV positive) is shaped by such inequalities. The injustice of this reality wiggled into my consciousness and never left.

So when, seven months later, my dissertation supervisor asked what I wanted to do I said – “I want to figure out how to get everyone living with HIV/AIDS in Africa effective treatment and care.” In other words I want to find a way to prevent children like Tim contracting AIDS from their mothers, and enable those mothers to live long enough to raise their children themselves. Of course there are many brilliant people (including my supervisor) working on this very conundrum, and the topic in it’s self is much too massive for an MA dissertation. So we began to discuss how to narrow it down. Since most policies now support the idea of universal access to AIDS treatment and care, I wanted to know why they were ineffective – why were most people living with AIDS in Africa still not on anti-retroviral treatment and getting the care they needed?

I have a photo of some of the children from Emmanuel Center in my dissertation note book. I keep it there for motivation – I can write with all the academic discipline I need to, but in my heart I don’t want to forget what inspires me – children like Tim and determined women like his sister.

Pause, Reflect... head back to the library.

I don’t have one book out of the library. I don’t have a file titled ‘essay’ permanently open on my computer, staring at me accusingly every time I check my email or surf face book. There is no deadline hanging over my head. Essays have been handed in, and classes are finished. I have a sense of freedom and desire for celebration, but there is also a sort of sense of needing to pause and reflect.
Eight months ago about 100 of us peace studies students crammed into the lecture hall for our first Introduction to Peace Studies class. We instantly created ourselves into a tribe of friends, living in a confined village which included the library, café, pub, halls, etc. We’ve read the same books, had stress attacks at the same times, and complained about the same weather. We’ve consumed copious amounts of coffee, and almost as much wine. We’ve tried to cram conflict resolution, political science, international relations and more into our head space.
The courses have been great, but it’s the people that I have learned from. I wonder when I will have the opportunity to sit around a table in a pub with people from a dozen different countries again, while discussing concepts like universal human rights, just war, and failed states.
Part of the reality of being a diverse group is that we are all pointed in different directions. Since classes ended two weeks ago, and our essays were handed in last week, we have already started to scatter. Some people are heading to their home countries to write their dissertations, others are heading out on field research, some have other exciting adventures planned.
In a month and a half I’m boarding a plane to Durban, South Africa to intern at the Health Economics AIDS Research Division. I’m terribly excited about the opportunity to work at THE place to be if your interested in the social and economic dimensions of the AIDS pandemic (which I am!). I’m also hopeful that my work at HEARD will inform my dissertation.
In fact that is the next task that looms over me. I have to finalize my topic, begin my background research and write my proposal. So today I’m off to the library to get some books out and then no doubt I’ll have a permanently open file on my computer titled ‘dissertation,’ starting at me accusingly. There is not much time for pause and reflection after all – but there is a lot still going on, which is just the way I like it.

Team Twickenham Tours Scotland

Mom and Auntie Carolyn arrived at Twickenham Court (my home in Bradford) on April 6th, ready to see the best of Great Britian. After a few fine days in lovely Yorkshire, the two of them, Vanessa and I piled into a rental car and programmed the satnav (one of those computers that talks to you and tells you which direction to go) for Edinburgh. I was driving for the first time in the UK, but after a few false starts, and with oral directions from the ever polite Felicity (our name for the satnav), we were off in the right direction - we hoped!
Vanessa ooed and awed at the little lambs spotting the Yorkshire Dales, Auntie Carolyn imagined the sketches she would do, mom cringed at the narrow roads, and I tried to follow directions for once in my life. I must have been paying attention because after five short hours Felicity had delivered us safely to Edinburgh. However, she didn’t offer to find us a parking spot and so I spent another 45 minutes driving around in circles, fighting with buses and practicing my favorite swear words.
Our guest house was on the edge of the old town, with a great Thai restaurant in the basement. We wondered Edinburgh’s ancient streets in the shadow of the massive castle, visited the castle, went to Good Friday Service in the ancient cathedral, and climbed the green hills on the outskirts of the city – it was delightful.
We then programmed Felicity for the coastal town of Oban, where we ate lovely greasy fish n’chips in the rain and scoped out the Scotch distillery. Oban is a quaint town, with tourists pouring out of every store front. However, Vanessa and I found a peaceful moment on top of one of the hills, were a local church was holding a sunrise service on Easter Sunday.
We left Oban by ferry for the Isle of Mull. The very informative captain told us all about the stunning castle we past as we basked in the cool sun. Once on Mull we remained breathless (and not only out of fear of crashing on the twisty turny roads). The scenery was picture perfect: rolling hills, blue ocean, punk rock cows and fluffy white sheep. The only thing that was missing was burly men in kilts. Our cozy bed and breakfast surpassed our expectations, but not as much as our Easter supper at the local pub – the fresh sea food was overflowing on our table, and was nicely washed down by a local single malt.
The next day we wandered the isles’ twisty roads, walked into a lake, basked on Calgary beach, and ate a few more great meals. There was no doubt about it – Mull was magic.
From Mull we passed back through Oban long enough to go on a distillery tour, and then headed for Glasgow where we met our ever so friendly host at the Barrisdale B&B. Glasgow surprised us with her charm: excellent free museums and galleries, a stunning cathedral and superb taxi drivers (more like tour guides really). Our last meal was at the famous restaurant – Two Fat Ladies at the Buttery.
The following morning we programmed good old Felicity for Twickenham Court and four hours later found ourselves safely home.
It was a road trip to remember. We reflected a number of times that our adventures could be crafted into one of those ultra girly movies about friendship, sisterhood, intergenerational learning, reflecting on the past, etc. Perhaps we’ll write the screen play one day, but until then please check out some photos here.

Heroes!

Emmanuel Center was recently featured on the national news station in Kenya! Watch this inspiring clip right away - www.youtube.com/watch?v=oypQMUaUf_Q

I'm so proud to be part of such a great organization!