Tears in Tanzania Signal Hope Amidst HIV

Lauren Pelascini, CRS volunteer, Tanzania. Photo by Gerard Lambert/CRS

I was introduced to HIV this month. I held the hand of a woman, skin and bones, too frail to hold her head up. She had energy only to let her tears fall to her cheeks. But, they were tears of hope.

She had hope that the anti-retroviral (ARV) treatment would restore her health and bring new opportunity.

In Mwanza, Tanzania where I serve, I entered another home of a young man suffering with HIV. He voluntarily shared the lesions on his thighs, the fungus on his feet, the details of all side effects of the ARV treatment. However, the root of his suffering seemed to stem from his loss of identity as the head of his household, a hard worker, a father, and a son. His wife and child immediately abandoned him upon the diagnosis, he became too weak to hold a job, and his father fled, disgraced by his son's stigma. And yet again, I experienced a profound sense of resiliency through his gentle smile.

Later, five-year-old girls were skipping around, playing with each other. They were playing house. They chatted with one another, "My baby is tired. My baby just started walking. My baby tells stories. My baby has HIV." Kids say the darndest things.

We can remedy the physical ailments as they come, but if we aren't caring for these children, what road will they take? What vision for their lives will they have?

Although questions fill my mind about the future of these children, I live in the present, enjoying their playfulness and their innocence.