10/30/2012
My volunteer activity for this day is to visit HIV patients in Kiambiu. I met with two women from Holy Trinity’s congregation who work with a charity called Eastern Deanery Aids Relief Program. The program provides medicine and nutritious porridge to those who are infected with HIV. They visit approximately 37 patients and their families every week. This morning, I joined these women for three hours, accompanied by Seminarian Peter.We walked to Kiambiu from Holy Trinity and made our way to the first dwelling, where we visited a family of three. The patient was a small boy, around 3 years old, whose mother died two years ago. His father is caring for both him and his sister without steady work. His sister passed class 8, but her father does not have the money to send her to high school, so she is here with us today. Thanks to the medicine offered by the charity, it is impossible to tell that the boy has any health issues at all. He is playful and vibrant and one of the most adorable children I’ve ever met. Peter and the volunteers speak to the father with much compassion. One of the volunteers led us in prayer before we moved on to the next case.
We proceeded to visit 5 more HIV infected people and their families before I left the regular volunteers to continue their work. (1) Mary lost her ability to walk, along with her daughter who took care of her. Now, the she is responsible for the care of her grandchild, who her daughter left behind. (2) Wangui is extremely malnourished, with a disfigured hand. She tearfully explained that her main problem is obtaining food. (3) Anastasia saw the volunteers and stopped us on the road to inquire as to why we did not visit her home. She told me, in English, that her husband passed away in 2005, leaving her with four children, all in primary school. She told me that, while her life with HIV is hard, she is grateful to have the strength to earn a meager living, barely keeping her family fed. (4) Nana’s husband left her with two infant children when they were diagnosed with HIV. She has pain in her legs, back, and ribs, but she still tries to earn a living by tailoring clothes with the archaic-looking sewing machine outside of her home. (5) Nancy has four children who are thankfully not infected with HIV. She breastfeeds her newborn baby as we speak to her about their living conditions. She explains that her husband sells jewelry on the street just around the corner from Holy Trinity, but does not make enough money. They are dependent upon charity for food. When they are not fortunate enough to receive a donation, the children starve.
*All names were changed for privacy.
My first visits into Kiambiu homes were also my first observations of religious counseling in practice. Seminarian Peter has an exceptional gift which allows him to strengthen the faith of those who have every reason to be faithless. My own sadness, increased with each home we visited, was tempered by Peter’s sobriety. He knew exactly what to say to each person and his presence never lost its gravity, even as he translated their words for my understanding. Peter’s sincerity shines through him like the sun. His words were simple and his prayers were brief, but they had healing power beyond the syllables. Peter’s light enabled me to carry on with the visits, somehow convinced that I must have a purpose here despite my current impotence.
That afternoon, Fr. George interrupted a fun conversation between Peter, his friend Ann, and I to tell me that I had to visit Fr. Celestino for a meeting in one hour. Upon arriving at the Pontifical Mission Society offices in the more affluent Westlands community, Fr. Celestino took me on a tour. He introduced me to some of their staff, including the human resources manager and assistant before I updated him on my feelings about the activities so far. I learned that Fr. Celestino pulls late hours often as both he and his staff were still present after 7:00pm, when he told me that we would have dinner at an American hotel.
I was impressed (to say the least) at the grandeur of the hotel and restaurant, as was the rest of our group. The buffet was an extensive assortment of savory meats, fresh vegetables, and mouthwatering deserts. I thoroughly enjoyed the meal and conversation, often riddled with laughter thanks to Fr. Celestino’s playful demeanor and hilarious dialogue with Fr. George.
Towards the end of our meal, Fr. Celestino announced that we must all get fruit from the desert counter but not to eat it until he said so. While Fr. Celestino is very amicable and sometimes outright comical, none of us question his never-quite-absent authoritativeness, so we all did as we were told. Once we returned to the table, Fr. Celestino engaged everyone with a story, which he kept extending (waiting for Sr. Lydia and his secretary Mary to return from somewhere) with the age old beginning “Onnnnnce upon a time…” The story was about me. After what seemed like an eternity of “Onnnnnce upon a time”, the ladies returned and a band of restaurant employees emerged from the kitchen singing and banging pots and pans. I had not told anyone here that today was my birthday.
I've never seen anyone cut their name in the States, but they don't mind cutting it here.
I discovered that the cake feeding ritual is the same for birthdays and weddings.
After much prodding, Fr. Celestino revealed that Sr. Revelacion, of the Archdiocese of Washington, had told him about my birthday. I should have known that the big-hearted people I have the pleasure of working with on a daily basis could not keep such a secret. I was thoroughly surprised and embarrassed, because both Fr. Celestino and Fr. George had known that my birthday was upcoming since Saturday. I remain grateful that those who had only known me for a few days (some for a few minutes) would honor me with such a celebration.
