A day in the life (or something equally cheesy)
Yesterday was a strange day; a meeting in the morning, HIV counselling training and a DMAV session in the afternoon, a goodbye in the evening and and a conversation with a friend and team member that made me think.
The meeting was productive, the training was interesting and the DMAV was wonderful!
We arrived at Solapur Bazaar, in Pune, with the DMAV's new red curtains blowing in the breeze. They certainly made it look more jazzy but they also bring the red lights of amsterdam to mind!
A welcoming committee of excitable young boys were waiting, arranging chairs and stringing banners across the street. Our usual walk through the winding streets took on a pied piper air as the boys danced around behind us and Meera banged her drum with extra vigour. The crowd slowly grew and the team launched into their best performance yet. The audience watched attentively, laughing and clapping in all the right places. People started hanging out of windows and off balconies to see. The street was blocked by our team so cars, bikes and mopeds, instead of turning around, stopped to watch. And then, the acting ended and the questions started. The microphone was passed around the audience, Trisha style, as more and more people raised their hands to ask questions, intelligent questions, about HIV. Young men, old women, a rickshaw driver and an expectant mother, all with queries.
After the questions ended the condom demonstration began. The men boldly climbed into the DMAV in front of everyone - the space we had created felt like a very open forum. There were none of the usual embarrassed faces or supressed sniggers, just genuine interest and support for each other.
As I was packing the DMAV three young men asked for a second condom demonstration. I was so excited. These people really did want to learn and understand. It just felt good.
And then I returned home in time to say goodbye to two fellow volunteers as they set sail (or should I say took flight) for Ethiopia and the next leg of their travels. I did not want them to go. It made me sad. I hate goodbyes.
It reminded me of a conversation I had had that afternoon with my friend and team member. She was explaining a problem to me and then she stopped. She said she had only become really close to a few volunteers and she was still sad they had gone. Then she corrected herself, 'not sad', she said, 'it is more than that. You don't understand, there is no word.' She said I was becoming another one and she didn't want it to happen again. I felt awful, guilty. I knew I was dreading leaving but I suppose I hadn't really thought about it from their perspective. I assumed I was just 'another volunteer', which of course I am, but real attachments and friendships are made between everyone here. There is no such thing as just 'a volunteer'. You are welcomed, and made to feel like a family member. I don't really know what I am trying to say but I do know that I am dreading leaving a little more now. I hope the next two months go really slow.
The meeting was productive, the training was interesting and the DMAV was wonderful!
We arrived at Solapur Bazaar, in Pune, with the DMAV's new red curtains blowing in the breeze. They certainly made it look more jazzy but they also bring the red lights of amsterdam to mind!
A welcoming committee of excitable young boys were waiting, arranging chairs and stringing banners across the street. Our usual walk through the winding streets took on a pied piper air as the boys danced around behind us and Meera banged her drum with extra vigour. The crowd slowly grew and the team launched into their best performance yet. The audience watched attentively, laughing and clapping in all the right places. People started hanging out of windows and off balconies to see. The street was blocked by our team so cars, bikes and mopeds, instead of turning around, stopped to watch. And then, the acting ended and the questions started. The microphone was passed around the audience, Trisha style, as more and more people raised their hands to ask questions, intelligent questions, about HIV. Young men, old women, a rickshaw driver and an expectant mother, all with queries.
After the questions ended the condom demonstration began. The men boldly climbed into the DMAV in front of everyone - the space we had created felt like a very open forum. There were none of the usual embarrassed faces or supressed sniggers, just genuine interest and support for each other.
As I was packing the DMAV three young men asked for a second condom demonstration. I was so excited. These people really did want to learn and understand. It just felt good.
And then I returned home in time to say goodbye to two fellow volunteers as they set sail (or should I say took flight) for Ethiopia and the next leg of their travels. I did not want them to go. It made me sad. I hate goodbyes.
It reminded me of a conversation I had had that afternoon with my friend and team member. She was explaining a problem to me and then she stopped. She said she had only become really close to a few volunteers and she was still sad they had gone. Then she corrected herself, 'not sad', she said, 'it is more than that. You don't understand, there is no word.' She said I was becoming another one and she didn't want it to happen again. I felt awful, guilty. I knew I was dreading leaving but I suppose I hadn't really thought about it from their perspective. I assumed I was just 'another volunteer', which of course I am, but real attachments and friendships are made between everyone here. There is no such thing as just 'a volunteer'. You are welcomed, and made to feel like a family member. I don't really know what I am trying to say but I do know that I am dreading leaving a little more now. I hope the next two months go really slow.
posted by Deep Griha at 11:40 pm
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