Starbucks and Starvation

It's almost unreal to think that as I am living in Orlando and going to UCF - drinking my $4 Starbucks latte, typing on my laptop, driving my brand new car - that this is the life people are living here. People are starving. People are dying. People are suffering.

I am sitting again in a Malawi classroom watching these children engulfed in a children's book that Traci is reading as the translator explains. Everyday as I see these faces - some of them beginning to become familiar - they are becoming more and more human. HUMAN. Not statistics. Not a story I read. Not a face on TV.

We went into the schools to promote HIV/AIDS awareness and to explain about the VCT testing that would be going on for free all week. The reality is that 10-15% of all Malawians already have HIV/AIDS, but if they don't know they are infected, then they can't get treated. There is some national funding allowed to provide some medicine to those that come in for testing if they are HIV positive. The things we experienced in the classrooms were disheartening and somewhat terrifying. When asked what the students had heard about HIV/AIDS in their community, we heard responses such as,

"If you get AIDS, you must have sex with 5 virgins to rid yourself of the disease."
"The herbal medicine doctor in our village cures HIV/AIDS in a few days."

There are way too many people that still don't even know that HIV/AIDS exists.

I looked around all day for the girl I met yesterday, but I couldn't find her. I can't stop thinking about her!

We went back to the COTN camp at "half-eleven", or 11:30, to eat lunch - coleslaw and rice. The food is always rice and beans, and the Malawians love to eat "Nsima." Which compares to...a patty made of farina or cream of wheat that is three days old. It's made from corn and I don't like it at all.

After eating we loaded up the bus and headed to the clinic - where people of all ages were waiting to receive the VCT test for HIV/AIDS. We were supposed to be sitting with the children trying to break the tension of such a serious moment. That is a huge task. I sat there thinking how serious those few moments actually were. These children and young adults were walking through a door and five minutes later walking back out with either one of two bits of news: "You will live." or the dreaded, "You have a terminal, incurable disease. You will die."

All the while we are making conversation with the kids and coloring books. We had some nail polish, and the girls LOVED when I painted their fingernails! Then I let one of the girls paint mine and she loved that even more. I loved it too - maybe even more than she did. One girl named Elizabeth wanted to teach us the language of Chichewa. It was so neat to see someone wanting to teach us! She was 13 and of course when I asked her what she wants to be when she grows up, she responded, "A teacher!" I spent a moment along praying for the girls going in for testing that I'd just spend my afternoon with.