March 9: Itipini Clinc

We rented a very cool ride for the trip down the Eastern Cape from Durban. In total we had eight pieces of luggage to squeeze. I needed many pairs of shoes for the road and we even brought our own printer and projector for events

We headed to Mthatha in the Transkei looking for the Itipini Clinic. "One more tiring event," I thought. I wanted to sleep in the sun, not work.

Right off one of Mthatha's big roads, a dirt path appeared leading us to some shacks. It was nice to see shacks because in Jo'burg and Durban we saw none. These shacks were not like the ones in Khayeltishia though. They were very rural, old, poor and rusted. It made my township and my shack seem like a luxury hotel.

Children with musical instruments appeared on the road and they were

playing music with herds of other children running to crowd our car. They were there to see me. The clinic had many colors,  cheerful people and friendly faces. They all sang and danced for me. I felt like a real star.

Usually I do the presentation with Joe, the producer. But we were in a  

Xhosa community, so I had to do it alone and in Xhosa, my native language. My audience was HIV positive, mothers, children, teenagers and grandmothers. The attention of an entire community was on my words, my story, my advice.

I was not an outcast here and the questions I was asked showed that. They were simple, about daily things -- from one HIV positive person to another. It made me feel human and real, not just like a good "story."  I also saw my privilege because of access to ARV's, good doctors and nice shacks.

HIV in the Itipini Community is taken as a way of life. It does not bring people down. It is not a sad place. It is a funplace that is about choosing life, not death.  

One woman asked how I maintain my figure because ARV's made her shapeless. Others said that they were going to get an HIV tests and have

their kids take tests after meeting me. There was a sense that ARVs scared many of them. And even with a Cd4 count of 64, one person said the fear was too strong. She preferred death to ARVs. After chatting for a bit, she said told me that she would go to the clinic the next day. Their stories were very different from mine, but the same, because we had HIV in common.

Some never thought they could have kids. We talked about Onwabo, my daugher and my experience with AZT and Nevarapine. They looked at me with bright eyes as if I were a doctor. Except that they could relate to me because I knew what it was like to have HIV.

The people were admiring and praising me, singing and dancing for me and it felt like one big celebration.  They were fighting over the postcards of the project and wanted to know every detail about my life.  They thought I had a lot of power. They told me to talk to the president about getting them jobs and grants. I had never imagined my story could make such a direct impact. That day I knew that people left my presentation with a new attitude toward their life. I felt new again. Like my presence had a message and just talking about this has the power to change lives.