ABC

09/27/05

I can't sleep anymore. The air in the room is too stifling. Stagnant. I wake up and I feel like I'm suffocating until I get outside and breathe the fresh morning air. I have to bolt the door, or else I'm afraid I'll be woken up with a panga to the throat. If I open the windows, giant insects attack me, so I pull down the mosquito net, which stops all the air flow and defeats the purpose. I really almost went outside and slept in the grass last night. I just couldn't imagine the sorts of spiders and rodents and reptiles I would wake up with. I need a fan. I finally fell into an uneasy sleep around 2am, and managed to drag myself to the door at 6am for a deep breath.

After a shower and breakfast Robert came and we went to the widow/PLWHA who we had met on Thursday. She is was accepted to MSF (the same ART program as Robert) but hasn't been going for medications, despite how sick she is, because she cant afford the transportation. She takes care of two kids. We interviewed her; she had a lot to say. I was actually strangely disappointed: she looked so sick when she was outside, but as soon as I put her in some dramatic lighting and started the camera rolling, she really came to life. This voice in the back of my head is going, "Cut. Alright listen, your motivation for this one: you're very sick, you're hopeless, you haven't been able to get to the hospital or feed your kids. I'm coming back in two months, after we've sent you to gets your meds, during that interview we're going to want you with this energy and enthusiasm and hope, okay? Alright, take two!" But, obviously, I just let her talk freely. When she was done I asked Robert to prompt her boy (who was sitting at her feet) to talk. He started asking questions, where do you go to school, can you count to ten, say your ABC's, that sort of thing. The kid started to come out of his shell a bit; he counted to ten and said his ABC's. I almost lost it. He just seemed so traumatized, he was so painfully shy. A few hours later, as I walked by the nursery school where he said he went to school, and I realized that it's a Tuesday, I asked Robert why he wasn't in school. He said he was sent home for lack of school fees. I asked how much. 300/=. It's 100/= per month for nursery, and when he fell behind three months they sent him home. 300/= is $4. The worst part is that if you don't complete nursery school, you can't start the free primary school. So this kid's future abilities, even basic social skills, is being stopped by a lack of $4 to pay for the rest of nursery school. My heart hit my toes. Not for this kid, because fuck it, I'm paying for his damn nursery school, but for all the other kids that are in his same situation, but that I haven't stumbled across…I'm also sending the woman to MSF to see if they'll let her back in the program.

We went down to one of AAN PLWHAs that we had interviewed the first day (two months ago, hard to believe.) Her mother had an acre of sugar cane that she offered at a good rate for the group. We went and looked at it, it's choked with weeds, but Robert assures me that its fine, it just needs to be weeded and have a topcoat of fertilizer. We bargained the price to 40k from 50k, we hope to pull in 100k in 12 months and another 100k 18 months after that. We will be shopping for more.

After lunch Robert went to find more offcuts to finish the chicken coup (which will be done by the end of the week – things take so long here,) I read Nelson Mandela's No Easy Walk To Freedom. Good god that man is inspiring.

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