the basics

Back to the basics

We are in St. Lucia (not pounced Lucy-a, but rather Lu-sha). It is in the eastern side of the country, near the Indian Ocean. The Indian Ocean? For someone  who was born in a tiny rural town in Mexico, and was raised in the Lincoln Heights barrios (near East LA), knowing that I am near the Indian Ocean is too surreal. 

When my parents brought my brothers and I to the United States in 1993, their mere intentions were for us to learn English and have a simple kind of job. A job that did not require too much manual labor, like my dad’s. To them, and to us, college was not in our future. But here we are in 2011, two of my siblings are also in college and my youngest brother still in college but with the understanding that he has to attend college. And me, well I will, just in one year, be graduating from UCLA. Even though I do not bleed blue and gold, I am very grateful for the opportunities that UCLA has given me. It has opened my door to countless opportunities, allowed me to make irreplaceable friendships, it has given me some of the greatest tools, and most importantly allowed me to make some of my most fondest memories.

And this sense of gratefulness arrives as a result of being in St. Lucia. St. Lucia is located in the province with the highest rate of HIV/AIDS infection in the entire country. Granted, South Africa is the country that has the biggest population of people living with HIV/AIDS. The volunteer coordinator provided us with the statistics that about 70% of the people we are working with in the Township have HIV/AIDS, and that also goes for the kids we are working with during the Holiday Club. She suggested we just “assume everyone has the virus.” Of course, I am not going to play with the kids any different or treat them worse for having HIV/AIDS. In fact, it never even crosses my head when I am in the playground every morning. It is not ‘till later that I remember—that most of the kids in the playground are positive for no fault of their own, nor fault of their parents.

It is not their fault that they live in a country with an awful history of colonization, White Supremacy, and oppression. But they bare the consequences of not having access to education, health clinics, and other means of self-awareness and empowerment. And now, even though Apartheid is “over,” their physical bodies are the sites of the oppression.

Yesterday (Wednesday June 29), we met a couple of ladies who are part of a support group for HIV+ women. They were selling us some of their hand-made products (jewelry, weaved baskets, etc.), and the money goes directly to the women who make them. Everything they were selling was beautiful. But I feel that the stories behind the crafts are extremely powerful. They are stories of resilience, resistance, and love.