As I sat in a hospital in South Africa, I saw a mother cradling her baby in her arms.

There were tears in the mother´s eyes as her baby whimpered a few faint sounds. I assumed that she was waiting to see a doctor.

As the rocking motion intensified, I noticed that the baby was not crying anymore and I thought that the mother had calmed her infant amidst the hustle and bustle of the corridors. When an employee of the hospital approached the young mother and motioned for the baby, I was told that the baby had just slipped away quietly from AIDS after many months of pain.

The young mother, although visibly upset, seemed to almost accept the inevitable as she walked out of the hospital.

I came to find out that the mother was 15 years old and had contracted AIDS from the numerous "boyfriends" that she was with as a way to make money.

Similar stories surfaced numerous times in other parts of South Africa and then again during my summer trip to Malawi. As our Global Action group met with various coalitions in different arenas, it became clear that so many young girls had personal dreams and goals that were totally diminished due to their need to simply survive.

Still, with all of the unimaginable hardships that exist in areas similar to Malawi, I was welcome with open arms and accepted despite our differences and my privileges. I was not judged by people who have so much potential but so little resources.
It was a lesson that will stay with me forever.

During my stay in Senegal, I contracted Malaria.

I was taken to the hospital by one of my group leaders in order to be evaluated.

The local hospital was physically old and dirty with antiquated equipment. As the doctor approached me in the examination room, I was scared and nervous on top of not feeling well. How pleasantly surprised I was when I became the recipient of such care and love from everyone in the hospital.

I also quickly realized that they did not have the medicine that I needed. I was fortunate enough to have a group leader that was willing to drive many miles in order to find the necessary medicine that was the best for Malaria, not to mention being able to afford this "luxury."

As I lay in my make shift "bed" in town waiting for the group leader to return, I personally began to understand the tip of the health care crisis.

I had many local visitors who would sit with me and try to cheer me up. They ended up telling me stories about their own illnesses and seemed mystified when I explained to them that I was waiting for medicine from another town. Most of the local people never went to the hospital and certainly never thought about searching for medicine in another area.

They had not been educated in taking care of their own bodies and even if they did receive some important information, the facilities do not exist to enable them to put health as a priority.

The local villagers explained that watching someone die from an illness was a common occurrence. Many trusted God to heal them as they were not aware of other alternatives. If some even thought about going to a hospital, transportation was non existent plus they were almost afraid of what we would call a semblance of Western medicine.

A young man related the story of his 10 year old son who became very lethargic, had a high fever and did not want to eat anymore. The family gave up their own small portions of food in order to encourage the young boy to feed himself. This plan did not work and someone mentioned that maybe they should take him to see a doctor.

As the young man described how his son slowly slipped away into the darkness, his eyes filled with tears as he explained that he believed that even if he was able to get to the hospital by walking and carrying his son for miles, he did not have any money to pay the doctors, so it wouldn´t have helped anyway.

The young father looked very frail himself from malnutrition and possibly a combination of other ailments. But he believed that this is the way life is supposed to be and he has no other choice. One of the relief workers eventually told me that the son probably died from Malaria.

I recovered from the Malaria with the help of the medicine, but also from the concern and love from individuals who had much bigger problems than mine.