A Xhosa man sits in the doctor's chair at the Langa township clinic rasping heavily. He developed a chest infection over the weekend. "While Im here I might as well get an AIDS test", the severity of this chest infection is alarming; it might be tuberculosis. but then again this is something hes been avoiding, and its better to know your status. Dr. Mthebe walks in and sits at the other side of the desk, the young muzungu girl sitting against the wall sits reading the "ARV for children" poster. Its ok, she doesnt understand Xhosa. The doctor opens the young mans file. "Ndiyaba mfowethu", I am sorry my brother, your test was positive, you have HIV.

I feel as though the tornado that swept over the man as he learned of his positive status, swept over me in the same powerful way. I thought to myself, "this is the first day of the rest of this mans life, nothing will be as it was the minute before he stepped into the clinic. What began as a quick stop at the doctor has turned into what probably will always be remembered as the worst day of his life". After learning of his positive status, the man was taken back to the blood room to have a full panel of blood drawn in order to determine his CD4 count and viral load. He was then fully observwed by Dr. Mthebe who determined that he was suffering from pneumonia- an indication that his CD4 count is probably very low and he will therefore have to start taking antiretrovirals- a regimen of side effects that he will live with for the rest of his life. The man then was instructed to go for X-rays at the hospital to take a closer look at his lungs. Once the horrific day was over, he would return home, where he was instructed to disclose his positive status to his partner. The 30 minutes the young man spent lying down with the oxygen mask seemed to be the only reprieve to the hell that had been unleashed that day.

As I sat in the blood lab watching the nurse draw CD4 blood from patients like an assembly line in a factory, it reinforced the reality that has plagued not only South Africa, but the world for decades since this virus was first discovered in the early 80's, and it reinforced my resolution to dedicate my life to the fight against this silent killer. The scenario witnessed that morning is not endemic to 3rd world countries. While the setting may be quite different, the same conversation is repeated every single day and in every country in the world. The South African healthcare system is, as a matter of fact, rather impressive; ARV's are provided free of charge to any HIV+ individual who requires them, irrespective of socioeconomic status. The real problem at hand is not the lack of care, but rather the fact that the system is overwhelmed by the sheer number of of patients seeking care.

This sad story serves only as one facet of ones overall experience living in Cape Town. It serves as a starck contrast to the beauty that we witness everyday in this breathtaking country. What I love most about being back in South Africa is that life is very real, very empowering, and every day is filled with intense emotion and an appreciation of one's good fortune. It is very humbling as well. Over the past 2 weeks, Cape Town has played host to the "Pan African Spacestation"; a music festival that showcases traditional African music from countries around the continent. On Saturday, we attended a show downtown which showcased the haunting harmonies of the cora, compliments of Doumani Diabate, a famous cora player from Mali (also the 71st cora player in his family).The following day, the festival was held at the community center in the Langa township. While (sadly) the tunrout was not quite as monumental as the night before, this concert was by far one of the best experiences we have had since arriving in Cape Town. The music was fantastic, the crowd was diverse, and the soccer fans drinking at the local shabeen were hilarious and welcoming. The organizers gave out free tickets to the local kids, who ended up being better entertainment than the music itself at certain points in the show.

We spent the end of the weekend at Clifton, a gorgeous beach on the Atlantic side of the Cape with white sand, icy blue water (compliments of the Antarctic) and gleaming, 10 foot rocks that dot the coast.Last night some friends of mine from Johannesburg, who were in Cape Town for the past week, came to have a few cocktails and watch the sunset from our balcony. After a riveting day in Langa, watching the sun set over the lions head, with its warm pinks and metallic rays of light peeping through the approaching clouds, reminded me that with every cloud that impedes our view, there is always a silver lining, which may take the form of a lesson learned, or even an insight to our resilience of individuals. In the face of with insurmountable challenges, we rise to the occasion, and when we fail, we always seem to pick ourselves up again.