waking up,

after two more days of zombie life, walking through scanners, x-raying our bags and our bodies, getting fully frisked, undressed, unravelled unpacked and wrapped back up again. Two tonne-heavy wings, that through the magic of physics floated us back to familiar ground, and into the arms of our families. And after three and a half months of twenty-four hour togetherness, Sarah and I sadly parted ways at JFK. It was when she left that I realized how ferociously proud of her I am: pulling this off required immense passion and the endurance of so many 'no's' thrown at you, from funding applications to the process of getting ARVs itself.

The first few hours of American-watching were exciting, while waiting between flights outside in the seventy-six degree sunlight. New, tightly fitted clothes and tans on everyone, gleaming cars that no one can really afford, all of the wealth that goes unnoticed. The variety of faces, side by side, wearing the same anxious expression, anticipating their checked baggage.

An invisible fence of fear prevents D. from ever seeing all of this. Because of where she was born, she cannot hope to glimpse other countries, even if she could ever afford it. The generalized fear of greater numbers and the potential to overwhelm the system; it sounds familiar to the AIDS epidemic, and what prevents one person of the masses from being helped.

And so the production phase ends; but there is still much to be done. Screening the hours of footage, catching the right seconds in each terrifyingly miserably joyfully unforgettable day. I can't wait to see it, to let the story flow, the twinges of regret pinch and the beautiful mistakes surface, and the satisfaction to have it all make sense to other eyes. Fundraising for post-production will also keep us busy, when the real expense of film transfer for festivals needs to be taken care of. But most of all, we hope that you (yes:you) feel proud of what you have made possible. You are reading this. You have contributed to making this, falling in any multitude of definitions of the word 'support'. Families have been helped, love has been built, hope has been realized into years of 'normal' life. In this case, 'normal' is a truly exceptional state. It should always mean that, but never does until it gets taken away. Individuals, advisory board members, foundations: this is yours. In the words of Vusi: You. are. gorgeous.

In the meantime, I'm revelling in the lush grass where my parents live, the humidity, in all of the things I couldn't do: run, go outside at night, drink 100% orange juice, wear trousers. Still bruising unsuspecting pedestrians by walking on the wrong side of the sidewalk, but my brain should go rightfully backwards again, sometime soon...