Ma Sevana Medicine
The month of March has been particularly rough for me, having spent the whole time suffering from a Sri Lankan virus that is either dengue fever or something remarkably like it. Not being able to perform, physically and mentally, has made for a very difficult and frustrating couple of weeks. Additionally being sick away from home is probably one of the worst experiences ever, and I have to say it’s made me pretty homesick. To finish it off, the constant problems and barriers that I deal with daily begin to seem overwhelming. I received an email from my Grandmother that explained what I hadn’t been able to say but had been feeling all last month and wanted to share her words:
“Alia’s blog happened to fit in with something I had read lately about a young man who had lived through some terrible times in Kosovo and had become very disillusioned about the human race, feeling there was nothing that could be done about the conditions of the world so why try. The response to that was that he, and all of us, have an obligation to try. It has to be hard for you young women over there to see so much that should and could be done, to try but sometimes fail. But you are trying.”
It’s been difficult to handle all of the problems that our girls face and obstacles they are trying to overcome: the situation can really weigh on you. Fortunately for me I was feeling well enough yesterday to go to Ma Sevana for the first time since February, and it was like medicine for my soul. The experience was completely rejuvenating, getting to be part of their lives after being absent for a month. One of our girls sat by my side and held my hand for an hour, and that feeling of intimacy and closeness was exactly what I needed. Hugging the girls gave me the connection that I was so desperately wanting, and seeing their excitement made me excited. We spent the first thirty minutes simply catching up one each other’s lives: who had left, which girls were being transferred to other homes soon to go to school, who’s birthdays were in March. Just knowing how much they care for me keeps me motivated to, as my Grandmother put it, simply keep trying. And now that I’m almost fully-recovered, I can.