September 5, 2011

September 5, 2011

Am I already into another month?!?  It is so difficult to believe that this week marks my 2 month milestone here in Uganda.  How much I have experienced and grown.  I don’t think I even fully realize it yet.

I will admit to being a bit tired, as last week proved to be very exciting and very challenging combined.  As mentioned in my last entry, I held my first focus group with the girls last Monday, and then I had to prepare for another focus group with the parents as well as another meeting with the girls on Thursday.  AND, I had to give a presentation about the project to UNAIDS on Friday!  Needless to say, I worked my tail off, as I wanted all of it to be exceptional.  And, not to toot my own horn, I think it was…

Now, I will not say I did it alone, as there were several individuals who helped me to succeed last week, and to them, I owe thanks.  Whether it be through ideas or constructive criticism or help with the logistics, I feel these people got me through.  So, to those who provided the help, I am forever grateful.

I look back on all that occurred in a week’s time, and I can’t help but to be proud.  The girls were beginning to open up, the focus groups were informative and productive, the program was growing, and the presentation to UNAIDS was, I thought, a big win.  It was a good, demanding week.  And, due to the fact I was an eye in the week’s constant storm of activity, I pulled several late nights and early mornings, and by the end of the week, I was exhausted. 

So, although I did have some friends over for dinner on Friday evening, the weekend was spent relaxing, sleeping, reading, and doing a whole lot of nothing.  It was the rejuvenation I craved, and I was amazed at how much I slept, as I have never been one for long slumbers or lazy afternoons.  I relished the simplicity of allowing myself to stop and reflect and simply be, and my two days of doing so were lovely. 

I do want to go back to the events of Thursday though and quickly delve into the mothers who showed up to the focus group.  Surprisingly to me, they were much more vocal than I expected, and when I probed for information about the girls, the community, or the female situation, they readily gave their opinions.  One woman, who had the lines of hardships and joys on her face, fascinated me.  Her eyes would get big and then her brow would furrow, and even though I couldn’t understand a word she spoke, I loved her story.

Her story, when translated, directed the program to address exactly the issues we have been trying to focus on, and I was relieved to hear her tell me I had the group’s permission to do as I see fit with the program and their thanks for what I am trying to accomplish with their daughters.  I think this gratitude toward me and what I am trying to do with the program is something I have just not allowed myself, as I have been working nonstop and can only see everything that still needs to be done.  And, although I feel I have been fully aware of what is happening on a day to day basis and the overarching goals of the entire process, it took these mothers pointing out the greater meaning and potential that started to make me view things a little differently.

You see, it started raining after the parental focus group last Thursday, and it was a rain that shakes the trees and your nerves.  Moreen (the girl who is helping me to begin the program) and I took shelter in one of the Sub-county town hall’s waiting rooms and looked out into the blinding rain.  She told me her story, too, and I am forever in awe of the resiliency of people.  I went outside to capture the rain, but it slipped out of my hand, as it isn’t meant to be caught.

The downpour lasted for quite some time, and soon after it let up, I saw a woman approaching the hall.  At first, I did not know whether to approach her or not, but I saw her looking around as if she were lost.  So, I asked Moreen to go and speak to her, and sure enough, she had come (a few hours late) to attend the parental focus group.  I kept looking at her and thinking to myself, what about the storm?

After she learned the focus group had been earlier that morning, she took my hand and starting speaking.  Moreen translated, saying the woman claimed to be very, very happy and was giving me many thanks because her daughters were going to have an opportunity.  I nodded my head and smiled, saying thank you for coming, and after many handshakes, she left, walking away in the continued drizzle.  What about the storm?

I think that was the moment I finally got what I had been missing.  I was able to answer the question.  I understood.

I watched her walking away, hoping she would turn into one of the nearby houses so I knew she hadn’t walked very far, but somewhere inside me, I knew she wasn’t going to make any close turns.  I knew she had a long walk.  I craned my head to see how far she was going, and the further I saw her walking into the distance, the harder it was for me to breath.  I knew that woman had survived a down/poor I will never understand to give her daughters the possibility of a future.

What about the storm? 

The mother got wet.  The rain slips away.

She isn’t meant to be caught.

Perhaps such blindness has enabled me to see.

She isn’t meant to be caught.

Focus.