Listen

Last night we had dinner at Noxie’s (that is my host mom). The food was delicious, as always here. I wish I could tell you what it was called but I forgot. It was some kind of ground spiced gingery pea meat with a nice layer of melted cheese on the top. Not to mention how delicious the lunch at JL Zwane was. Two words for you: Fat cakes. Look it up.  I feel bad for eating when people come here whom barely have 1 meal a day.  It’s 10:30, we all ate breakfast around 7 and we are talking about how hungry we are. But then I think about the food parcels we are putting together for people in the community and I start to wonder if I should feel bad about being hungry. I have 3 huge meals a day, sometimes with snacks. The way society has taught, I think I should feel guilty. But why fell that way? Why not be happy. Happy that I have access to these items. Excited I live a life so privileged.

I don’t think the people here expect us to fell bad for them. Them don’t want us to feel guilty, hopeless, etc. They want us to listen to their stories and try hard to understand what they are going through. The minister the other day at the church we visited talked about how the church and people in the community are always talking but never listening. We are instead supposed to just listen. We need to realize that if you are not a woman with HIV you will never truly know what it’s like to be a woman with HIV. Because of that, all we can do is ask questions, listen, and try hard to understand.  And REALLY listen.

Which is proving to be an easy task with South Africans because they love to talk. And by a lot I mean A LOT. You ask someone what their name is and you get their first name, their Xhosa name, and their surname. Then you get a story about how they were born and into what situation they were born into. Which leads to the name they received. Each name in Xhosa has a meaning. For example Siviwae. His parents wanted a male to be born, but their first-born was a female. So the second child (him) came and they were praying for a male. When he was born they named him Siviwae, meaning answer to prayers.

            So I am learning to listen. I am learning to take in everything everyone is saying. At times, it is difficult to pay attention. I may be tired, cold, distracting or spaced out. But I owe it to the community to stop telling and start listening. They have welcomed me to Gugulethu without any judgments. They have given me a warm welcome into their world and are so open to sharing their stories. It is my duty and respect as a guest into this community to hear them out. To just listen.