Pale Blue Walls
(Noon, Monday 17 October 05)
One thing has bothered me the past few weeks, especially as I sit in my office of pale blue walls. Despite that I live in rural Ethiopia and work everyday with native Ethiopians, I have little if no contact with those I am ostensibly here to serve. I do not encounter orphans, their caregivers, or people living with AIDS. Certainly I am less isolated from their problems than I was when sitting in the blue room of Bridwell Library (in contrast, its walls were a dark, deep blue highlighted with brilliant white wood accents). Yet to some extent my pale blue walls have become my new chamber of isolation, if ever so different from my old.
Mostly it is selfishness that draws me to spend time with those I am helping. It is much easier to motivate oneself when continually seeing the fruits and necessity of labor. To serve without seeing or feeling either the need or effect - this is difficult.
However, my isolation isn't so profound as I once though. There are continually people walking into our office to meet with the various case workers we have at the compound. A few days back I was sitting in File's office when a woman around 30 came in. She sat down and began to talk with File. He introduced her to me, and without even thinking I stood to shake her hand. She seemed surprised. File began to explain who she was - her story - with me. She contracted AIDS several years ago and has been struggling to make ends meet since. She is now doing much better than before, through counseling from Fayyaa and re-education in ways to sustain herself economically.
Had I known she had AIDS when she walked in, I still would have undoubtedly shaken her hand. I honestly don't have enough experience with AIDS to be afraid of it. And in any case, my scant education on the virus does let me know that you can't get it from shaking hands (well, unless you both have open sores on your hand...) Yet despite knowing better, I began to run through everything I knew about AIDS in my mind. I suddenly had the desire to wash my hand. These thoughts were fleeting, and I quickly pushed them aside. Through translation we spoke for a few minutes before I crept back into my pale blue chamber.
Hung on the pale blue walls are three posters. One is a map of Ethiopia. Another is a workplan I had to prepare when I first arrived. The third is produced by UNAIDS and says across the middle, "These are some of the most painful symptoms of HIV and AIDS." Surrounding the words are dozens of pictures of people living with HIV/AIDS. Under each is a description of the way their community, friends, family, and loved ones responded to them after learning they contracted the disease.
"Get away from me."
"You deserve it."
"The wedding is off."
"You disgrace the family."
"I thought you loved us."
"Mom said you will be dead soon."
"I'm afraid of you."
The list goes on. I realized that if I - a volunteer who moved across the globe to help fight the spread and effects of HIV/AIDS - am tempted to think about AIDS in the manner in which I did, that without question others do as well. What a hard life! And yet the few people living with AIDSI have met exude a sense of hope for the future. They are still able to laugh and smile and carry on with their life.
I hope to meet some of the orphans and their caregivers soon. As I said above, I must be careful about this. My presence "on the field" can cause unnecessary complications for the NGO. Nevertheless, it is important, I think, for me to see what we are doing here. And, perhaps almost as importantly, for me to shake people's hands.
Michael
One thing has bothered me the past few weeks, especially as I sit in my office of pale blue walls. Despite that I live in rural Ethiopia and work everyday with native Ethiopians, I have little if no contact with those I am ostensibly here to serve. I do not encounter orphans, their caregivers, or people living with AIDS. Certainly I am less isolated from their problems than I was when sitting in the blue room of Bridwell Library (in contrast, its walls were a dark, deep blue highlighted with brilliant white wood accents). Yet to some extent my pale blue walls have become my new chamber of isolation, if ever so different from my old.
Mostly it is selfishness that draws me to spend time with those I am helping. It is much easier to motivate oneself when continually seeing the fruits and necessity of labor. To serve without seeing or feeling either the need or effect - this is difficult.
However, my isolation isn't so profound as I once though. There are continually people walking into our office to meet with the various case workers we have at the compound. A few days back I was sitting in File's office when a woman around 30 came in. She sat down and began to talk with File. He introduced her to me, and without even thinking I stood to shake her hand. She seemed surprised. File began to explain who she was - her story - with me. She contracted AIDS several years ago and has been struggling to make ends meet since. She is now doing much better than before, through counseling from Fayyaa and re-education in ways to sustain herself economically.
Had I known she had AIDS when she walked in, I still would have undoubtedly shaken her hand. I honestly don't have enough experience with AIDS to be afraid of it. And in any case, my scant education on the virus does let me know that you can't get it from shaking hands (well, unless you both have open sores on your hand...) Yet despite knowing better, I began to run through everything I knew about AIDS in my mind. I suddenly had the desire to wash my hand. These thoughts were fleeting, and I quickly pushed them aside. Through translation we spoke for a few minutes before I crept back into my pale blue chamber.
Hung on the pale blue walls are three posters. One is a map of Ethiopia. Another is a workplan I had to prepare when I first arrived. The third is produced by UNAIDS and says across the middle, "These are some of the most painful symptoms of HIV and AIDS." Surrounding the words are dozens of pictures of people living with HIV/AIDS. Under each is a description of the way their community, friends, family, and loved ones responded to them after learning they contracted the disease.
"Get away from me."
"You deserve it."
"The wedding is off."
"You disgrace the family."
"I thought you loved us."
"Mom said you will be dead soon."
"I'm afraid of you."
The list goes on. I realized that if I - a volunteer who moved across the globe to help fight the spread and effects of HIV/AIDS - am tempted to think about AIDS in the manner in which I did, that without question others do as well. What a hard life! And yet the few people living with AIDSI have met exude a sense of hope for the future. They are still able to laugh and smile and carry on with their life.
I hope to meet some of the orphans and their caregivers soon. As I said above, I must be careful about this. My presence "on the field" can cause unnecessary complications for the NGO. Nevertheless, it is important, I think, for me to see what we are doing here. And, perhaps almost as importantly, for me to shake people's hands.
Michael
posted by Michael Rodgers at 4:27 AM
3 Comments:
Marty, thanks for your support.
However, I gave the wrong impression if this came across as a post about loneliness. The isolation I am referring to is isolation from the pain and suffering of the people of the world, and in this case people living with or suffering from the effects of HIV/AIDS.
In fact, what I was trying to say is that I am MOST isolated from these people when I'm in the states with family and friends - when I'm LEAST lonely, one could say. It may be that loneliness is the only thing that lets me encounter these peoples, but you can read the post a few back for those thoughts.
BTW Marty, Qoheleth must be read in a class conscious manner. Qoheleth is faced with the life of one who has all wealth and power and subsequently realizes life is meaningles, but only because he has lost contact with that which makes life meaningful. Only a rich, bored old man has the time to ask the questions Qoheleth asks. His conclusion "eat drink and be merry" should not be a motto to be followed, but should be recognized as the curse placed on those who pursue wealth and power for the sake of happiness, only to realize they have lost sight of everything that could even possibly bring happiness.
Qoheleth is the foil to the wise man, not the archetype.
(For those of you wondering why I post this, It's in response to a post on shannonpaigeguillot.blogspot.com... I will post the response there as well.
All i can say to all of this nonsense is "FIRE IT UP THEN!" love you buddy
Love you Steve. Funny you should mention "Fire it up then!" I just told that story to some of the missionary crew here. They enjoyed at laughing at the colorful characters Oklahoma has to offer.
To tell you the truth, the old boy nearly convinced me we didn't land on the moon, and I wouldn't bet against Jesse James gold being on his land.
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