How did I get into development? Probably not a unique story. I always had the thirst for adventure and travel as I was growing up. On 'dress up like your role model' day in elementary school, I came as Dian Fossey. I thought a safari in Africa would be the pinnacle of my existence. I loved The Lion King. I signed up for Swahili 101 freshman year at BYU.
At the age of 21, I decided to be a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I was assigned to South Africa. It was my first time outside of the United States. I traveled alone. When the plane touched down in Johannesburg, I thought I was going to jump out of my skin. My nose was practically up against the plane window the whole way down. Someone important must have been arriving on my flight, because at baggage claim there was a whole choir dressed up in South African flag choir robes singing a traditional song in beautiful harmony. I was in heaven. The culture, the food, everything was so different and amazing!
I started off in Germiston (somewhat grungy part of Joburg), moved to Bloemfontein (where I worked exclusively in the township of Blomanda), moved into Bedfordview/Malvern (half upper-class, white area, half ghetto) and ended up in G-West and Broadhurst in Botswana.
There were good times, and many heart-wrenching, soul-crushing times. Sometimes I didn't know if I would be able to make it through. Apart from the seemingly insurmountable personal experiences, it was tough to see many of my new friends struggle with sickness, disease, and death. I remember visiting David in the TB hospital and singing him a hymn, and cooking for and comforting his pregnant wife Nomsa after he died. Holding and rocking Buhle as she sobbed after her father Owen suddenly passed away because they didn't have the money to take a taxi to the hospital, as her mother Margaret isolated herself in their tiny, scrap-metal shack. Hearing of the deaths of Edith from Botswana, and Isaac - one of my favorites from Malvern, after coming home. And especially of the death of my beloved companion Precious Nyamadzawo. All young, vibrant people, who wouldn't have died if they lived in the US and had access to medical care. I was fairly angry with the world at this point.
Needless to say, my focus shifted from adventures with gorillas to humanitarian work. I had a conversation with my nurse friend Gladys Mwale, from Malawi. I told her if there was anything within my power I could do to help health care in Malawi, I would. I don't know how to get in contact with her, as she moved back to Malawi and I don't have an address or cell number. But I hope to see her someday, in Malawi.
I hope this introductory post helps you know where I am coming from. If I become too passionate or idealistic - please forgive me. Meanwhile, read on, and if you have any ideas for how we can work together to improve health, education, or poverty - please contact me: smhall8@asu.edu
-Sarah
No comments:
Post a Comment