What a week! This is a pretty long post, but worth getting through as I attempt to sum up a pretty unique several of days. From baboons to Dasha almost getting kissed, to the Gulu Wamkulu chasing us to my front door, to the Member of Parliment making it rain on the alter for Jesus! You can't ask for a better week!
Monday-
We rode our bikes to the western gate of the Nkhotakota Game Reserve and from there, to Mankhaka village to see a very talented tailor about a very special job. Near the reserve gate is Mbobo Game Camp, where the park rangers/guards live. We traveled to the gate in hopes of chatting with our friend, Nico Kangoma and of course hoping to buy nthochi (bananas), since they are sold there for the best price- 4 for 10 kwacha! We unfortunately missed Nico but bought 100 kwacha of nthochi!
Arranging to see people here feels just like when I was a kid with no phone, just showing up at someone's house and asking to play. Since cell network is so limited in my area and because units to call or text are so expensive, it's not at all weird to show up at someone's house completely uninvited, hang out for several hours and of course stay for lunch- nsima and ndiwo (beans or cooked mustard greens).
As we rode further down the road to Mankhaka village, with the reserve on one side of the road and villages on the other, we saw something large and grey run across the road! Behind the first, we saw about 10 other large baboons running behind, right out of someone's field across the road back into the reserve! Oh man it was scary! I've never seen so many baboons in my life, let alone baboons in the wild 20ft away from me! Yikes!
Since Mankhaka village is a 20minute walk from my house, I was expecting the bike ride to be quick as well, but since we first went to the gate of the reserve, we accidentally went about 8km out of the way!
By the time we arrived in Mankhaka village, we were pooped! We went to Mankhaka because there's a really good tailor who lives there and we wanted him to make us pairs of Thai fisherman pants! We showed him the pants.... He looked at them confused and was a bit uncomfortable since women aren't supposed to wear trousers, especially in my village. Women here are so conservative they normally cover their hair and are never seen without a chitenje (a large piece of fabric, coming in millions of different beautiful designs, women use to wrap around their waist, covering their skirts, going down to their ankles. I assured him these were "woman trousers" from America which are especially useful while riding a bike. He was still a bit unsure about them, but agreed to make them. While this exchange was happening, people (mainly drunk men and small children) were gathering like moths to a flame, giving the tailor their two cents, various pointers, though none of them are tailors themselves and providing an endless commentary on the strange "Women's trousers." It was truly a village effort and in a typical Malawian fashion, lasted for over an hour.
Tuesday- "Market day"
Tuesday is always an eventful day, as it is the day we travel 32km total to the market in Malamo. Transport to the market is spotty and expensive, about 400 kwacha there and back, so we've been riding bikes which takes about 35minutes there and 45minutes returning, as there are more hills on the return portion. There's a clinic in Malomo, the closest health facility to my village. We have made friends with the health assistants, who are basically the doctors at the clinic, who invite us for lunch every Tuesday, which usually includes meat!
After lunch with George and Thokozani the health assistants, we walked to the market. We go to the market to buy the things we can't find in the village, like eggs, tomatoes, bread, clothes washing soap and such.
While we were buying our typical after lunch snack of fried potatoes, a boy probably about 18 years old walked up to us, greeted us, then from out of nowhere leaned in and tried to plant a big smooch on Dasha! I pulled him away and explained to him that we love to meet people here in Malawi, to chat with them, but it is not at all ok to try to kiss a random white girl! Not. Ok. At. All. We laughed it off and continued on our way!
We've become really good at contextualizing and laughing small things off, things that in the states could have put me in a sour mood for quite a while. I mean, come on?! Most people are so shy here they only have the guts to yell "white person" at us from a far and once approached they soon become awkward, quite, and often just run away. So for a young kid to be brave enough to approach two white girls and then attempt to plant a kiss! That takes some serious balls! It wasn't ok and he knows that, but he gets some brownie points for trying!
Friday-
I should begin by explaining the Gulu Wamkulu. They are a religious group that dresses in strange costumes, usually really creepy ones and goes to ceremonies and funerals to dance. They're a very feared group by children and when they approach an adult, a woman is expected to move off the path and bow to her knees, whereas a man stops and moves off of the path, both are expected to avoid eye contact.
When I was riding my bike home from the market on Tuesday past one of the neighboring villages, a man dressed like the swamp thing, covered in mosquito nets was walking on the side of the road. As soon as he saw me, he lunged at me.
The next morning I asked my neighbor's wife, what that was. She explained that the Gulu live in the neighboring village, just 5km away from Ching'amba!
Later that day, I was chatting with the Group Village Headman (chief of the chiefs) and I foolishly mentioned to him that I did not know the Gulu Wamkulu existed in my area until today. He assured me that they're only in the neighboring village because people in the Ching'amba area don't like them! Rightfully so, they're scary!
It was then no surprise to me when 2 days later, while Dasha and I were riding down the dirt hill to my house, we heard yelling and moaning coming from behind us. We looked back, only to discover we were being chased by two of the Gulu!!!
One was wearing a ski mask with red fabric pulled out of the eye, nose and mouth holes, with mud body paint and holding a machete! The other was wearing an old ripped up fedora, who knew that a fedora could be so scary, with mosquito nets hanging to cover his face with similar body paint to the other and a bow and arrow. As soon as we saw them, we took off the brakes and rode down the hill to my house much faster than what Peace Corps would recommend. Especially since we were riding down a dirt road so littered with potholes, tree roots and debris, they're actually impossible to miss. If you were being chased by the Gulu Wamkulu, you'd ride that fast too!
When we arrived at the house, kids were running and screaming everywhere looking for a place to hide since they could hear the Gulu coming! We threw down our bikes, jumped in the house and locked the door. We sat on my bed and listened whilst they circled my house waiting for us to give them money.... Maybe if they weren't so scary their plan would work a little better and they would have actually gotten money!
By this time, we were so petrified with fear, when the chief came to my house telling me to come out because they were gone, I honestly couldn't muster the strength. We went outside only to find out the Gulu were hiding down a dirt path near my house. We ran screaming back into my house, only this time with the chiefs children since they accompanied the chief to my house and again waited for them to leave. Eventually the chief told them to leave, sometimes it really pays to be neighbors with the chief!
It's also good to mention, that here only children are the ones who are scared of the Gulu, which is exactly how we became the laughing stock of my village. Every person who saw me for the next few days was sure to mention to me how scared I was and how foolish I was. Living in Malawi takes some pretty thick skin sometimes! Shoot dang!
Sunday- THE BEST SUNDAY EVER!
First I should say that church is a very, very, very important aspect of peoples lives here and why shouldn't it be?! When you're living just to get by each day, with 8 mouths to feed, a field only partially fertile and a not so ideal spousal relationship, why not believe that there is something more to life? That this life is preparing you for an eternity of bliss?! Here, with a life so tough, why not have a larger than life, optimistic support system like God?
In the states I would have never thought I'd enjoy going to church, nor did I ever think I'd enjoy going to church so much that I'd decide it would be a great idea to join the woman's choir! Church in Malawi is truly an amazing experience where every 10 or so minutes is filled by song and dance either by the children's choir, woman's choir or by all of the devoted attendees. I'm not sure if all Malawians have good voices or if you're Malawian and you have a bad voice you're just ostracized from the community. Whatever the reason, a church filled with over 100 people singing perfectly in tune and in unison is something so beautiful it's almost hypnotizing. That being said, a 2 hour church service in a language I don't really understand, very rapidly looses its appeal.
I was expecting this Sunday to be a very long and boring day as I was told it was "paper Sunday," which is a fund raising day that usually lasts for about 4 hours.... When I got to church at 10am, I was told by my friend Frank that this "paper Sunday" usually goes until 4pm! It took all of my strength not to scream in horror just thinking about sitting on a reed mat, on a cement floor with my legs stretched straight out in front of me for 6 hours! This position is incredibly comfortable for Malawian women who all have jaw-dropping, sick, plank-like posture. As for me and my baby back on the other hand, it's certainly not a position I would ever choose to sit in unless I had to, which I do. I once tried to sit with my legs folded off to my side, but I was quickly grabbed and my legs were pushed into the proper "Malawian woman" position.
Frank then assured me that because the Nkhotakota soccer team was visiting for the weekend for a tournament, church would be cut short so everyone could make it to the soccer game by 1 or 2pm. This time, I was so overcome with joy, I had to use all of my strength to keep from screaming with pure delight!
I soon found out what "paper Sunday" was all about and it turned into probably the best church service ever witnessed in the history of mankind! It began with 4 very wealthy men, who I later found out were members of Parliament, were welcomed into the church and offered chairs to sit on, a very high form of respect, as everyone else sits on the floor. Two of the head church gentlemen, I know so little about my faith here in Malawi I'm not sure what they're called... I do know that I'm Anglican though, quickly began the service and each spoke for about 15 minutes, this is where things took an interesting turn. I soon would find out the only other place on the planet where it's appropriate to "make it rain" other than on a stripper, is on the alter in a Malawian church.
I should clarify that since I hadn't yet gotten my uniform tailored, I was not singing with the choir for this special day, which turned out to be good because I'm not sure if I am actually physically capable of the amount of singing and dancing this day!
The choirs and attendees began to cheer out of control, as one if my friends and counterpart, Charles, put a large bucket on his head and began dancing in front of the church along to the choir music. The Members of Parliament then got up, began to bust a move and proceeded to "make if rain" 100 kwacha bills while Charles scramble to catch the flying kwacha in the bucket on top of his head. Once the M.P.'s were done, the chiefs were called up, then in the order of who's respected in the village, the language spoken at church, which is Chichewa, was quickly changed into English, as Dasha and I were called up, "now it's your turn" Charles yelled, "the volunteers!!!"
By this time, the woman's choir were all dripping sweat. They had been singing and dancing during this entire process, which had lasted for over 2 hours! At one point, one lady attendee of church stood up, took her chitenje off and began to fan the sweating choir. It was at this time of the offering cue that they were encouraged, as I directly quote from Chichewa to English, "if you dance and sing harder and louder, you'll make Lauren dance!" and with this, the church went crazy! Dasha and I stood up, and without thinking the church could fill with any more noise, we began to dance our offerings up to the alter as the screams and cheers grew at an exponential rate!
Soon after we gave our offerings, we were motioned to by one of the chiefs to leave the church. He then took us to a house next to the church, with another woman, who I'm still not sure who she is or why she was asked to join Dasha and I, where we were served a lunch of nsima and goat intestine. At this point, since I usually eat meat once a week and in Malawian portions, approximately the size of 2 golf balls, any meat is a well appreciated meal and it turns out, goat intestine is pretty darn good. What an unexpectedly delicious end to an unexpectedly enjoyable 4 hours of my life!
We finished lunch, thanked the chiefs for their generosity, bought a 6ft. stick of sugarcane from someone on the side of the road and meandered to the soccer game.
Though life here is tough, in ways I never could have imagined, overall living here truly is a gift. I wake up everyday, thank the universe for this blessing, the endless support from my family and friends and of course, ask for the strength, compassion and understanding to face another day in Malawi!
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Introducing "Ndatopa"
Most days are nice here, I wake up, drink a cup of coffee with sugar and powdered milk, look out my window at sunshine with my cat sleeping on my lap. In those moments, life really couldn't be any sweeter!
Whereas some days are full of so many challenges, it's a weight almost to heavy to bear.
As I write, I am in the bed of a small truck, smashed in with about 15 other passengers all traveling on a mainly dirt road to Nkhotokota. I'm sitting on the metal hubcap of a truck tire, smashed in so tight, when we hit the slightest bump one part of my body goes numb while another pinches. Every time I attempt to shift my weight, someone quickly takes advantage and pushes with all their strength to take the "vacant" space my shoulder "created." Did I mention, the ride is almost 2 hours long?! I try to maintain my patience and keep a cool head but my alter ego, the raging "Ndatopa" is on the verge of ripping through my skin and taking care of business.
Ndatopa was created one fine day while biking home from the market. While I'm dripping sweat and panting working my way up one of the biggest hills on the granny gear, a man on the side of the road thought that would be a perfect time to start a conversation. He asked me the typical greeting "muli bwanji" (how are you) and instead of responding in the typical fashion with "ndili bwino" (I'm fine) I, not being in the best mood, decided to mix things up a bit and responded in what seemed like the most logical manner, with honesty and told him "Ndatopa" (I'm tired). He burst into laughter and kept on his way, as did I. And that was the birth of the not so understanding, not so friendly, not so happy lappy, Ndatopa.
Most of the time, I have the power to contextualize the situation I'm in and walk away, but sometimes, I don't. Sometimes, Ndatopa comes out, in small bits and pieces. I've got so little control over her especially since feelings of this kind of rage, prior to my time in Malawi, did not exist.
The only thing that keeps Ndatopa under control this time, is the hope that this day of traveling will pay off and in the Nkhotakota post office there may lay the hefty reward of a care package, maybe even 2 from home!!! Oh please let there be care packages waiting!
And there was! One from my Dad and Shirley and one from my Mom and Dan! How lucky am I?! A difficult day yielded the highest of rewards!
Whereas some days are full of so many challenges, it's a weight almost to heavy to bear.
As I write, I am in the bed of a small truck, smashed in with about 15 other passengers all traveling on a mainly dirt road to Nkhotokota. I'm sitting on the metal hubcap of a truck tire, smashed in so tight, when we hit the slightest bump one part of my body goes numb while another pinches. Every time I attempt to shift my weight, someone quickly takes advantage and pushes with all their strength to take the "vacant" space my shoulder "created." Did I mention, the ride is almost 2 hours long?! I try to maintain my patience and keep a cool head but my alter ego, the raging "Ndatopa" is on the verge of ripping through my skin and taking care of business.
Ndatopa was created one fine day while biking home from the market. While I'm dripping sweat and panting working my way up one of the biggest hills on the granny gear, a man on the side of the road thought that would be a perfect time to start a conversation. He asked me the typical greeting "muli bwanji" (how are you) and instead of responding in the typical fashion with "ndili bwino" (I'm fine) I, not being in the best mood, decided to mix things up a bit and responded in what seemed like the most logical manner, with honesty and told him "Ndatopa" (I'm tired). He burst into laughter and kept on his way, as did I. And that was the birth of the not so understanding, not so friendly, not so happy lappy, Ndatopa.
Most of the time, I have the power to contextualize the situation I'm in and walk away, but sometimes, I don't. Sometimes, Ndatopa comes out, in small bits and pieces. I've got so little control over her especially since feelings of this kind of rage, prior to my time in Malawi, did not exist.
The only thing that keeps Ndatopa under control this time, is the hope that this day of traveling will pay off and in the Nkhotakota post office there may lay the hefty reward of a care package, maybe even 2 from home!!! Oh please let there be care packages waiting!
And there was! One from my Dad and Shirley and one from my Mom and Dan! How lucky am I?! A difficult day yielded the highest of rewards!
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Me and my home!
A picture of me and my little home! My house is a three roomed mud hut with a thatched roof. No electricity or running water. There's a large garden with banana trees, guava trees, peach, avacado and orange. The chim ("toilet"- hole in the ground enclosed by a small mud structure with a thatched roof) is behind the fence to the right and the bafa (the grass structure where I bucket bathe) is in front on the fence off to the right as well.
I've currently got one cat, named Kombuku (jaguar in Chichewa), Shakila, the dog I inherited from the previous volunteer and her 6 babies!
I've currently got one cat, named Kombuku (jaguar in Chichewa), Shakila, the dog I inherited from the previous volunteer and her 6 babies!
Saturday, July 7, 2012
New address and what's been up!
Despite the fact I've been in country for one day shy of 4 months and haven't posted anything slightly resembling a blog post, it is still my intention to do so for the next 2 years.
I finally have Internet connection on my phone, so I'll begin blogging to keep everyone updated!
The first update is that I have a new address! Remember to send the flat rate boxes, since I'm pretty sure that's the cheapest method, but be sure not to claim a value for the contents of the package. Say the package is full of legal documents and books, like bibles or something religious. If there is a value claimed the postal service is "legally" allowed to open the package... Basically to see if there's anything worth taking! Another important reminder; be sure to adorn the package with as many biblical phrases as possible! Like I've said before the fear of God is mighty with Malawians and so far it's kept my packages safe!
My new address is:
Lauren Rodgers
P.O. Box 47
Nkhotakota, Malawi
Southern Africa
Ok so now onto the good stuff. The most logical way to begin my blog is well, at the beginning! The first 2 months of service were training. We lived in villages with host families to learn the culture and the language... My fist day of homestay was unforgettable! It was full of lots of sign language and complete misunderstandings as I only knew how to greet people and even that was a challenge for me! I was so lucky to have such a warm and welcoming host family who gladly taught me life in Malawi!
My host family consisted of 8 people, my host mother and father and 6 children: Gift, 17, Maliki, 15, Clement, 12, Vikitorya, 9, Bright, 5 (who's name was usually pronounced Blight since the sounds for L and R are interchangeable in Chichewa.... Unfortunately this isn't true for English as the meaning of his name changes to something is rather dim with the quick switch of an R for an L) and Tamala, 3 months.
My days consisted of learning the basics to life here, such as eating nsima (a thick sponge-like carbohydrate filled, nutrient lacking, maize flour porridge) hand washing my clothes, cooking over a three brick fire, carrying 20 liters of water on my head (though this was a bit embarrassing since my bucket had a lid, which my host mother's bucket did not and my bucket was literally half the size of the bucket my host mother carried water with!!!), bucket bathing, successfully using the chim (the pit latrine) and becoming a chim ninja, since using the chim is something that is never spoken of and something that should be done without anybody noticing.... I remember my first day of homestay holding having to go to the bathroom for the entire day for fear of using the chim for the first time.... The next morning, yes I held it all night too, I woke up at 5am hoping to sneak to the chim. I opened the door to my one roomed mud hut only to see my entire host family of 8 standing there waiting for me... The next few hours were excruciating and I finally caved and accepted the fact the chim was now a part of my life and it was never going to go away. It was now, in fact was something that had to be learned as much as I had wished it didn't exist!
During homestay we all lived in 4 villages, Sila/Nengo, which were so close and small they were considered one village, Chapatali, and Zuze. I lived with 10 other environment volunteers in Sila/Nengo village. All of the villages were within a distance of no more than 3 miles with a population of 38 white folks! It was quite a happy and safe bubble we all lived in, there were always friends around me who shared my culture and language. There was reliable support from those friends within a 30 second walk.
Within Sila/Nengo villages we had class daily, except of course for Sundays as that was the day reserved for church and clothes washing! We had language lessons in the mornings and occasionally in the afternoons as well with technical trainings in the afternoons. The language classes were split up into classes of 3-4 people whereas technical we all had together. In my language class there were three of us, myself, Dasha and James. Our teacher was Agatha. For technical, we were taught by a genius man known throughout all of Malawi for being a permaculture expert, who just so happens to also have one of my favorite names here, Lovemore.
In the evenings after school, I'd go home and sit next to the fire in the "kitchen," a one room mud hut with a small window for ventilation while my host mother cooked nsima and ndiwo (a side dish, such as boiled mustard greens eaten with nsima). Another very important thing I had to learn was how to handle sitting in a completely smokey room with a smile on my face, attempting conversations as tears ran down my face from my burning eyes. If the evenings spent with the company of my host family, hadn't been my favorite part of everyday I don't think I would have lasted a single day sitting on the floor of the kitchen with smoke billowing into my face!
Everyday I think back about my host family and am so grateful they opened their arms and their hearts to me teaching me the true meaning of generosity.
Though I was brought to Malawi to teach, I feel everyday I learn so much more than I could ever teach.
Since homestay and training, I have moved into Ching'amba village, which is in the Ntchisi district, off of the M-18, 4km from the eastern gate of the Nkhotakota Game Reserve!
I finally have Internet connection on my phone, so I'll begin blogging to keep everyone updated!
The first update is that I have a new address! Remember to send the flat rate boxes, since I'm pretty sure that's the cheapest method, but be sure not to claim a value for the contents of the package. Say the package is full of legal documents and books, like bibles or something religious. If there is a value claimed the postal service is "legally" allowed to open the package... Basically to see if there's anything worth taking! Another important reminder; be sure to adorn the package with as many biblical phrases as possible! Like I've said before the fear of God is mighty with Malawians and so far it's kept my packages safe!
My new address is:
Lauren Rodgers
P.O. Box 47
Nkhotakota, Malawi
Southern Africa
Ok so now onto the good stuff. The most logical way to begin my blog is well, at the beginning! The first 2 months of service were training. We lived in villages with host families to learn the culture and the language... My fist day of homestay was unforgettable! It was full of lots of sign language and complete misunderstandings as I only knew how to greet people and even that was a challenge for me! I was so lucky to have such a warm and welcoming host family who gladly taught me life in Malawi!
My host family consisted of 8 people, my host mother and father and 6 children: Gift, 17, Maliki, 15, Clement, 12, Vikitorya, 9, Bright, 5 (who's name was usually pronounced Blight since the sounds for L and R are interchangeable in Chichewa.... Unfortunately this isn't true for English as the meaning of his name changes to something is rather dim with the quick switch of an R for an L) and Tamala, 3 months.
My days consisted of learning the basics to life here, such as eating nsima (a thick sponge-like carbohydrate filled, nutrient lacking, maize flour porridge) hand washing my clothes, cooking over a three brick fire, carrying 20 liters of water on my head (though this was a bit embarrassing since my bucket had a lid, which my host mother's bucket did not and my bucket was literally half the size of the bucket my host mother carried water with!!!), bucket bathing, successfully using the chim (the pit latrine) and becoming a chim ninja, since using the chim is something that is never spoken of and something that should be done without anybody noticing.... I remember my first day of homestay holding having to go to the bathroom for the entire day for fear of using the chim for the first time.... The next morning, yes I held it all night too, I woke up at 5am hoping to sneak to the chim. I opened the door to my one roomed mud hut only to see my entire host family of 8 standing there waiting for me... The next few hours were excruciating and I finally caved and accepted the fact the chim was now a part of my life and it was never going to go away. It was now, in fact was something that had to be learned as much as I had wished it didn't exist!
During homestay we all lived in 4 villages, Sila/Nengo, which were so close and small they were considered one village, Chapatali, and Zuze. I lived with 10 other environment volunteers in Sila/Nengo village. All of the villages were within a distance of no more than 3 miles with a population of 38 white folks! It was quite a happy and safe bubble we all lived in, there were always friends around me who shared my culture and language. There was reliable support from those friends within a 30 second walk.
Within Sila/Nengo villages we had class daily, except of course for Sundays as that was the day reserved for church and clothes washing! We had language lessons in the mornings and occasionally in the afternoons as well with technical trainings in the afternoons. The language classes were split up into classes of 3-4 people whereas technical we all had together. In my language class there were three of us, myself, Dasha and James. Our teacher was Agatha. For technical, we were taught by a genius man known throughout all of Malawi for being a permaculture expert, who just so happens to also have one of my favorite names here, Lovemore.
In the evenings after school, I'd go home and sit next to the fire in the "kitchen," a one room mud hut with a small window for ventilation while my host mother cooked nsima and ndiwo (a side dish, such as boiled mustard greens eaten with nsima). Another very important thing I had to learn was how to handle sitting in a completely smokey room with a smile on my face, attempting conversations as tears ran down my face from my burning eyes. If the evenings spent with the company of my host family, hadn't been my favorite part of everyday I don't think I would have lasted a single day sitting on the floor of the kitchen with smoke billowing into my face!
Everyday I think back about my host family and am so grateful they opened their arms and their hearts to me teaching me the true meaning of generosity.
Though I was brought to Malawi to teach, I feel everyday I learn so much more than I could ever teach.
Since homestay and training, I have moved into Ching'amba village, which is in the Ntchisi district, off of the M-18, 4km from the eastern gate of the Nkhotakota Game Reserve!
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