September 11, 2012
"I’m
feeling it, the fact that I am in my last phase of my service, and it’s both
exhilarating and anxiety-ridden. I can imagine now what I have heard, that
those working back in offices in the states long to be back in the field doing
what I am doing right now. And why shouldn't they? What I
am getting the chance to do is absolutely amazing! Grassroots work has no
shortage of challenges, but the special moments you share and the bonds you
create are profound, touching and eye-opening like no other experience I've had.
This
afternoon three women, two of them AIDS patients I work with, walked across town to visit me,
even in the rain, and brought me a big bag of yams that one of them had grown
in her field. I gave them fuzzy socks to wear after they left their sandals at
the stoop; they sat on my wicker couch and I made us hot cocoa and popcorn. We
started off chatting about the crazy weather and the fact that I live alone,
that I’m actually not married but sometimes say I am to discourage men. They as
women knew exactly what I was talking about – that men love my skin, not me,
and they laughed and laughed when I told them my little devices for warding off
their advances, including pretending I'm calling my dad so they can discuss the
bride price. (More extreme measures include claiming to have a Cameroonian
husband who is a commandant in the national BIR army - the president's personal
death squad. I'd been using this last resort story for months when I finally
met a BIR soldier, and I nearly wet my pants he was so intimidating to behold.
No wonder it’s been effective at getting men to back off : ) I would have loved
to divulge my secret weapon story to him, and think we could have a laugh about
it, but I could hardly squeak out my name.)
One
of the woman said “Oh, you do bridal price where you live?” I said no, and then
we got into a discussion about how "chez nous" many people actually
see bride price as condescending to women’s rights and equality, we don't like
the implication that women are being bought, and turn into a sort of property.
In most marriages, nothing concrete is exchanged between the families - even
how the families pay for the wedding is not set - and it’s a union between two
equal, autonomous parties. (This is painfully far from the truth here; for
example, women are often pressured, forced essentially, by the man and his
family to sign on the marriage contract that she accepts polygamy and the
inevitability that other wives will soon follow. Few women I know here would
ever choose that of their own will.) I did not push this opinion on them, but
like in many of my discussions about gender, I like opening their minds to
various possibilities and approaches. The awesome thing about Peace Corps is
that that is a defined part of our job description, sharing culture, in both
directions...so all of these exchanges are "work".
I
did the same thing talking about the age women have children at, sharing that
in the US a lot of women wait until 30 or later to have kids, doing other
things first like getting an education and making sure their partner is someone
they really love and respect. Plus, many work for several years to save up
enough money to support the child well because it is such a major financial
commitment. Their eyes were wide at this approach. We joked about how I should
already be married with children by Cameroonian standards, but in the US my
peers who are already married and having children are seen as ahead of the
curve! I felt so relaxed and absolutely happy having them at my house, us
sharing, their trusting me and us all being open and comfortable in each
other's company, language and other barriers seeming to crumble. Is this not
the epitome of everything that is special about this experience, everything
that I’ve worked towards being able to do? It is, and I'm savoring it like fine
dark chocolate.
Matilde*,
spunky dame that she is, had to add in the weight comments to make the evening
complete. She opened up, “Alicia (I go by my middle name here), I wasn't like
this. I used to be so thin. I've gained so much weight since I started going on
that treatment. I used to weigh 50 kilos, now I weigh 67” I tried to
sympathize, telling her that I too have gained weight since coming to Cameroon,
and I can understand that it’s bizarre having your body change like that right
under you. She looked at me and responded: "Yeah, you are even bigger than
me. WAY bigger even! You must be at least 80 kilos! Yes, you HAVE gained a lot
of weight here in Cameroon!” Thaaaanks, so glad we are helping each other feel
better. It's silly though – she did not even know me when I first got here, I
had already gained my Africa weight (sounds like it should be an oxymoron, but
nope) when she first saw me, so bugger off! I feel like when people don’t have much
else to say upon seeing me again, they go straight to “ you've gained weight
since last time”.
Just one indication
of what a blunt culture it is - women here, like us, generally do not want to
gain weight - I know many who want to lose weight, and most fear going on the
birth control pill because they've heart it I makes you gain weight - yet they
are quick to point out when you have, and with vivid terms and gestures! My
friend the other day confirmed that "no, it is NOT a compliment" - I
told her it is extremely rude where I'm from to tell that to someone, she
laughed. Bring in how they discuss race, or their fellow Africans ' behavior
(for another blog post!) and the third national language could be deemed
Political Incorrectness.
What
really made me happy though was when Matilde, pretty quickly, said“Alicia…is
this maladie (HIV) ever going to finish? I want to have another child, and I
don’t know if I can. I’m nervous, with the maladie.” Wow, ok, we are diving
right in, this is real. First of all, I did not know who the other woman she
brought with her was, or if we would be able to allude to Matilde's HIV status
in front of her. It turned out it was her “sister” from the same home village,
that all-important supportive friend. I was so impressed that Matilde was open
with us both and perfectly willing to discuss with me the issues of having HIV.
This is not a development I take for granted...I have been working for months
to gain this kind of trust with these patients. I realized that she had just given me the green light
to speak intimately with her, and in I went.
I gently asked her about
children she already had, their status, the father (already died), who she
wants to have another child with (a friend, HIV negative), and what they do now
(use a condom). We talked about the risks involved, but how they are lower with
her being on treatment, how we can look at her menstrual cycle and find her
fertile days, then they can have less unprotected sex while still working to
get pregnant. I tried to use popcorn in a cup of water to show how treatment
decreases the level of HIV in the body so that it’s less likely that you’ll
pass the infection to your partner, or to your baby, though still possible. I
told her I could accompany her to the gynecologist to talk through her options
and their advice. I brought out my homemade chart of the female reproductive
system and we dove into talking about the monthly cycle and how fertility and
conception work. They had so many questions and just ate up being able to learn
about their bodies. One of them is already going through menopause, and just
hearing much of this information for the first time in her life.
It is so humbling doing one-on-one
education with someone who has real questions they are bringing to you in
trust, feeling like you are teaching them something they can really use
(another reason I love teaching reproductive health, its more individually
controlled, less dependent on government infrastructure, the way water hygiene
is). These are the afternoons that no amount of harassment, phone service outages,
cockroaches in my bedroom, relentless rain or molding damp laundry can get me
down : )
No comments:
Post a Comment