Today we received a welcome like no other. We spent the morning at Baragwanath Hospital in Soweto. This hospital services over 2 million people in one of the most densely populated areas in South Africa. The hospital is an old military base. They turned it into a hospital in 1947 and have been threatening to demolish many of the derelict buildings since 1969. Yet, they still stand and hold 2700 beds on a very grim compound.

The nurses who greeted us in the palliative care department were vibrant and gave a whole new meaning to hospitality. As we entered the office they each greeted us with laughter, a loud hello and outstretched arms. Each of us received a hug and a welcome. As the last women embraced me tears streamed down my face. Never have I felt so welcomed.

The nurses, who are called sister, took us into the conference room where Doctor Rusty met with us. She had 100 patients to see this day, yet she took time out of her schedule to talk with us for an hour.

Then Sister Zohdwa told us about the Palliative Care Project. There are 3 nurses who are funded by Ireland AID and 2 are funded by the hospital. Each of these nurses go out into the field and see 8 patients each day. They are on call 24/7 and once someone is their patient they are their patient until death. The spirit of these women is remarkable. Their laughter is contagious.

The sisters then took us to 3 homes. We split up into 3 groups and each group was allowed to go into one home with the sister.

I went to the home of Pamela who is 26 years old and living with AIDS. Pamela is being cared for by her granny. Granny had 6 children and 4 have already died. I looked at her and wondered how one lives with the grief of watching their children die. Pamela’s mother was granny’s daughter. She passed away last year. Pamela’s father died in 1994.

Granny pays about $85.00 a month for retro virals for Pamela. These drugs have helped her so much. Pamela is very lucky to have a support system of granny and her aunties to care and advocate for her.

While the other groups visited their homes, we stood outside our van and talked with the neighbors. People would begin to peek out from around the fence wondering what we were doing there. We saw a darling little girl watching us intensely. Karly and I brought her a beanie baby. At first she was quite unsure what to do. As she took it in her arms and I took her picture another child appeared, then another and another. Pretty soon grannies were walking over with their little ones hoping to receive a treasure, proud to have their pictures taken.

The grannies are so beautiful. Their faces are deeply etched by their life’s story. I felt proud to stand next to these strong, generous and committed women. In our country, we often here people complain about boomerang children. Ready once their children reach a certain age to be done with the parenting thing. And here are these grannies, who not only raised their children but now support their children and their families on their small $100.00 stipend each month.

Today was a day of being humbled by the generous, joyful spirit of the African women…by the sisters, by the grannies, by Dr. Rusty. My heart is full of gratitude.

On April 17th, I am going to South Africa with a delegation of women from across the US to immerse myself in the AIDS pandemic. We will spend time at orphanages, hospitals, clinics, the shanty towns and Mother Theresa’s AIDS hospice.

This journey began for me during a lay over in the Minneapolis airport where I was searching for something to eat. I saw a woman eating a broccoli pizza and I went up to her and asked, “Is that any good?” She told me it was quite good and invited me to sit down and share it with her. We consumed the pizza as we digested each other’s stories and I quickly recognized in this woman a sister of the soul.

As Lynn began to share with me that her deepest passion was taking groups of women to South Africa and immersing them in the AIDS pandemic, I found myself blurting out that I could find 10 women to go. She had not invited me to go, nor had she asked me to find anyone to go, but something in me sprang forth. My mind tried to hold me back as it screamed, ”What are you talking about?!!!” But my spirit stayed steady and focused. I began to collect the details of the trip as the two of us headed to board the same plane. Lynn lives in Olympia.

I took two weeks to sit with the various voices in me. Although there were many practical reasons to wait, the pull in me to go was stronger. And so, with the support of my husband and son, I said yes to what I had instinctively known all along – that I was called to go on this journey.

Once I committed myself fully, an energy was released. Spirit began to dance and things began to happen:
Over 15 friends thought seriously about joining me. 5 are going this year, and others are already fundraising to go next year.
I received all the money I needed to go as well as additional funds to donate to the programs we will visit.
I received an email from a friend who was forwarding me a letter from a woman she had met last year at a Leadership conference in Canada. The woman was from Kwazulu Natal, South Africa – one of the only areas I knew we were going to. She was writing to describe the plight of her people and to ask to be connected up with any organizations that might be able to help.
Three days later a friend called to ask me to call a friend of hers who I had never met. Her friend was giving a talk at the Evangelical Lutheran Women’s Conference and wanted to close her talk with my fundraising letter and ask people to support this project.
The following week, a new mother at my son’s school came up to me and asked if Sam could come over for a play date. We began to visit and I discovered that she is a research nutritionist who has developed a non-allergen baby formula and other food products. When I asked her where I could find these items she told me that they were just going to manufacturing and that the first 6 months of everything made would be going to South Africa to the AIDS Pandemic.
That Sunday, I was sitting in a pew with 4 five and six year old boys who were strung out on sugar. The only part of the Mass I heard was a wonderful chant we sang. The first 2 verses were in a language I did not recognize and then we sang them in English. “Thu-ma mi-na, thu-ma mi-na, thu-ma mi-na, Nko-si yam.
Ndi-ya bu-ma, ndi-ya bu-ma, ndi-ya bu-ma, Nko-si yam. Send me, Jesus. Send me, Jesus. Send me, Jesus. Send me, Lord. I am willing. I am willing. I am willing, willing, Lord.” As I sang and swayed to the beat of the drum, my husband tapped me on the shoulder, pointing to the song sheet. It was a South African hymn. Before Mass, Marcia Matthaei had told me she was about 80% sure she was going to go. I walked up to her after Mass and she said she was now 100% sure she was going. What other sign could she possible need?
Over and over, I have been amazed by the connections that have been made, how Spirit moves in, through and with us when we open ourselves to Her urgings.

As Marcia and I go on this journey, we ask you to pray for us. This pandemic kills 8,000 people a day. It orphans another child every 14 seconds. It is said that the number of children raising themselves without any adult to care for them is equal to all the children in New York and California combined. Children as young as 6 years old are raising their younger brothers and sisters. Our intention is to raise our consciousness to the plight of these people, and to come back home to be a spokesperson for these most vulnerable members of our human family. Please pray that we will be safe, that we will open and that we will stay connected to the Spirit of joy and hope.

Thu-ma mi-na, thu-ma mi-na, thu-ma mi-na, Nko-si yam.
Ndi-ya bu-ma, ndi-ya bu-ma,ndi-ya bu-ma, Nko-si yam.
Send me, Jesus. Send me, Jesus. Send me, Jesus. Send me, Lord.
I am willing. I am willing. I am willing, willing, Lord.