I’ve been trapped inside this week and haven’t had a chance to enjoy the last days of Fall. This is one of the best times of the year in Japan (October-December and March-May). What I really want to do is wake up early one morning and climb Mount Takao again. The weather report says it will be sunny this weekend. Hopefully, “sunny” means blue sky and a view of Mount Fuji.
One!
Two!
Three!
(This is meant to be read in 2 alternating voices.)
Those who follow this blog know I’ve been working on a presentation about children living with HIV/AIDS. Some people ask why, and I tell them I was never that interested in HIV/AIDS until I went to Cambodia and got to know children living with the virus (at Wat Opot). They are alive because they have access to generic (cheap) antiretroviral drugs. It’s not clear how long they can live this way. People say “indefinately,” because they don’t know. “Indefinately” may or may not mean a long life, but the kids I’ve met can teach us all something about living a full life today.
I was thinking of the girl in the photos above when I wrote this poem (To love a child with AIDS). She’s a precious child living with HIV — I hope she has a long and full life ahead of her.
Only 30 percent of the people in the world who need antiretroviral drugs (to stay alive) have access to them, and most (like these children) only have access to first and second line therapies. Each “line” of drug therapy is a progressively complex drug cocktail that usually works for a period of years and then loses effectiveness. When the “first line” fails, a child (or adult) must switch to “second line therapy” (then third line, etc.) or develop AIDS and die. In low income countries, second line therapy is very expensive, and third line is out of the question even for people under the care of well financed NGO’s. For the sake of the children I know, I hope for innovations, new generic drugs, and falling prices. Fifteen of them are on “first line” and five are on “second line” therapy right now. I also pray they will have the best of life in this moment — and the same for you and me.
Right now more than 30,000,000 people in the world have HIV/AIDS, and 2,500,000 are children. Last year 330,000 children died, and 420,000 children became infected with HIV.
Today is World AIDS Day. It’s a good day to learn, think, and do something to make a difference.
We rode our bicycles to the park yesterday to catch a local festival here in Takao (Ichomatsuri). The kids promptly bought chocolate covered bananas, and I got okonomiyaki (because I’d skipped lunch). Then we walked over to eat and watch local dancing troupes. I enjoyed taking snapshots of the cute kids in between bites, including these girls who danced skillfully in front of us.
Then I started to leave (the kids were desperate to go find the cotton candy), but an old lady said we should see the next group. She insisted, so we stayed.
The next group didn’t disappoint. Their music and dance was a blend of traditional and modern melodies and rhythms so typical of Japan today. They rocked and inspired, and they had a lot of fun.
They changed costumes three times during the performance, and they had a menagerie of shiny and colorful accouterments tucked in their belts: clackers, fans, samurai swords, and mutli-colored streamers. The dust rose, the light streamed through, and the flags waved behind as the dancers rushed about in frenetic displays occassionally stopping for a group pose with a flash of color.
Golden fans … what next?
They just kept piling it on. The girl with the drum, and two others like her, carried the exuberance to a new level with their high kicking drum beating whirls. They were wearing tight leather shots and tops along with their traditional tabi (boots with a split for the big toe).
Finally, the finale!
My kids all said their favorite memory at the matsuri was, um, the cotton candy — except for Mari, who agreed with me that these dancers were tops.
PS – Don’t miss the video in the previous post!
