Friday, October 22, 2010
Happy Birthday Sis
Happy birthday to my sister. Twenty years old; discarding the old skin of adolescence for that of a shiny new decade. She will always be more mature, smarter, and wonderful than I ever was (or will be). I should be careful, I'm starting to sound like my parents' greeting cards. Miss you, hope you have an awesome and fun birthday. Wish I was there to celebrate it with feats of gluttony.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
The Accidental Matola
I was on a matola today, the only one out of Mwazisi at the time, filled to the brim, along with a pile of poorly packed logs in the back. I managed to find a spot hanging over the edge of the truck bed, squeezed in between the logs and three amayis breast feeding their babies. Any matola ride is dangerous, each journey a matter of life and death. However, this time I was extra-aware of this fact because one of the large logs knocked loose, inching closer to me and to the edge with each new bump and turn in the road. People hollered warnings to the driver, but he paid no attention and matola kept on going. Luckily, just as the log was on its last straw and I was hanging on for dear life, the shocks on the back tire busted. We pulled into Bolero and waited for repairs. Growing impatient and uncomfortable I hitched another matola to Rumphi.
Africa has a way of toying with your mind. Stretching it, pounding it, testing its limits and its aptitude under duress. It's a strange land, unsparing, harsh, yet beautiful and forgiving in it's own way. Memories I thought I had long forgotten, secrets I had tucked away in some far corner, have blown back into my consciousness like a gale. These dead memories I thought were long buried under heaps of time seem to rise from the grave. Their ghosts drift through my house, haunting my days and sleepless nights with the pangs of missing. They taunt me with their wonderful apparitions of people, places, and emotions, beckoning me home. Even my dreams have been infiltrated, falling victim to these relentless spirits of memory.
Life and death take on a new meaning here. Death is prevalent on every corner. Yet unlike our death, which hides around the corner eagerly awaiting to ambush us uninvited and unwelcome, death here is welcomed, it is expected and, to a certain extent, embraced. Death is not feared as an unexpected guest but as a part of existence that will spirit us away to an afterlife without a moment's notice. I understand I could die on this matola, crushed under a pile of logs, or I could die of some other fate, but it would not surprise me. Death isn't hiding around the corner, it is simply watching passively, reminding us that we all have an expiry date, whenever that maybe.
When I'm on matolas, when I face the possibility of my ultimate demise peering over the edge of the truck bed, I think of her. She has been the most persistent of specters, haunting both reality and dreams. Pain courses through my veins emanating from my core and in my being. I don't understand why she still has this profound effect on me, why her memory can still haunt me across the world, across a sea of time. In bouts of sadness I wonder if she knows. I wonder if she is aware of her doppelganger that traverses through the fields of Africa. Probably not. The sea of time and space that separates is a door way to another world. I am in the land of dreams, the land of spirits, where death, life, and afterlife all coexist in a place that defies logic and reasoning. She resides on the other side, in the land of logic, where the mind rules all, where only present life is acknowledged and starkly segregated from other existence.
Beyond the sea, through the doorway, is that world I can only recall through the looking glass of my mind. Three of my friends are getting married, perhaps even found the meaning of their lives reflecting in this same sea. I wish them all the best and I wish I could be there for this momentous occasion. I miss everyone back home. My family, friends, and even those I considered my foes (though few in number). As 2 Kwacha put it best: “Home: it's better than you imagined.”
Africa has a way of toying with your mind. Stretching it, pounding it, testing its limits and its aptitude under duress. It's a strange land, unsparing, harsh, yet beautiful and forgiving in it's own way. Memories I thought I had long forgotten, secrets I had tucked away in some far corner, have blown back into my consciousness like a gale. These dead memories I thought were long buried under heaps of time seem to rise from the grave. Their ghosts drift through my house, haunting my days and sleepless nights with the pangs of missing. They taunt me with their wonderful apparitions of people, places, and emotions, beckoning me home. Even my dreams have been infiltrated, falling victim to these relentless spirits of memory.
Life and death take on a new meaning here. Death is prevalent on every corner. Yet unlike our death, which hides around the corner eagerly awaiting to ambush us uninvited and unwelcome, death here is welcomed, it is expected and, to a certain extent, embraced. Death is not feared as an unexpected guest but as a part of existence that will spirit us away to an afterlife without a moment's notice. I understand I could die on this matola, crushed under a pile of logs, or I could die of some other fate, but it would not surprise me. Death isn't hiding around the corner, it is simply watching passively, reminding us that we all have an expiry date, whenever that maybe.
When I'm on matolas, when I face the possibility of my ultimate demise peering over the edge of the truck bed, I think of her. She has been the most persistent of specters, haunting both reality and dreams. Pain courses through my veins emanating from my core and in my being. I don't understand why she still has this profound effect on me, why her memory can still haunt me across the world, across a sea of time. In bouts of sadness I wonder if she knows. I wonder if she is aware of her doppelganger that traverses through the fields of Africa. Probably not. The sea of time and space that separates is a door way to another world. I am in the land of dreams, the land of spirits, where death, life, and afterlife all coexist in a place that defies logic and reasoning. She resides on the other side, in the land of logic, where the mind rules all, where only present life is acknowledged and starkly segregated from other existence.
Beyond the sea, through the doorway, is that world I can only recall through the looking glass of my mind. Three of my friends are getting married, perhaps even found the meaning of their lives reflecting in this same sea. I wish them all the best and I wish I could be there for this momentous occasion. I miss everyone back home. My family, friends, and even those I considered my foes (though few in number). As 2 Kwacha put it best: “Home: it's better than you imagined.”
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Letter to Ms. Hanna
This was a reply I sent to Ms. Hanna, the teacher who I correspond with for the World Wise Schools program. Under the program volunteers have the option to correspond with a class of students in the U.S. and share their cultural and life experiences abroad. The questions she asked were things I never thought to write about, so here is the response:
Hope all is well. I also regrettably admit that before I was assigned I didn't even know Malawi existed. Once I did arrive I fell in love with the country and people. Malawi is really quite distinct from the surrounding countries. While it lacks in popularity, it’s an immensely beautiful landscape, the culture is colorful and the people are wonderful. I firmly believe that because it isn't popular, well-known,and lacks the precious resources of surrounding nations, that it is such a peaceful, unadulterated place. Like a hidden jewel in massively touristed sub-Saharan Africa.
While the country has its share of political and civil issues, it is overall a calm and quite rural culture. Most of the country's population consists of farmers, the biggest crops being maize,tobacco, cassava, sugar cane, and cotton. Maize, though introduced by foreigners, is the staple of a Malawian diet. The ground flour is cooked with water to produce thick, dough-like, patties called nsima (kind of like grits). Nsima is usually accompanied with dende, which are side dishes such as beans, greens, or meat.
Part of our assignment as volunteers is to diversify this diet as it is a leading cause of malnutrition in the country. Nsima is cheap and very very filling, thus in an impoverished country it’s an essential part of life. It provides an abundant amount of energy and you feel full for the whole day. I can eat one patty for lunch and not be hungry for the rest of the day and the women in my village are always concerned that I don't eat enough nsima (average Malawian diet consists of three patties per meal).
Dende is usually greens, such as Chinese cabbage/pumpkin leaves cooked down in water with salt and baking soda. There is usually a protein such as soy meal or beans, meat being a luxury reserved for special occasions. With meat, goat is considered the cheapest; one notch up is beef and pork; and then chicken, eggs, and fresh fish being the most expensive. There are also a variety of local protein fare that consist of mice/rats, flying termites, large worms, and small birds.
Greetings are a big part of interactions in Malawi. Culturally, everyone greets everyone whenever they see them, even if its multiple times a day. Generally greetings are: How did you wake/sleep? How have you spent the day? and How are you? This is very different custom especially for someone coming from Boston where no one greets each other. It’s been a hard adjustment, but you get used to it. I could see my neighbor in the morning, say “Mwawuka uli?” (How did you wake?) and then run into five minutes later and have to say “Mwatandala uli?” (How have you spend the day?). Mwatandala is used throughout the day and is the most used greeting. “Muli uli?” (How are you?) is usually reserved for once a day or if you see someone once in a while. The response is usually “Nili makora” (I am good).
For clothing, men generally wear pants and t-shirt/shirts. There is a local traditional wear, but like many developing countries, it has fallen victim to westernization. Women in the cities general dress in pants and shirts, but in the village there is more diversity. Culturally, women wear skirts or chitenges (large pieces of decorated cloth) wrapped around their waist. Much like sari, but only for the lower part of the body. There is a traditional top, but many women wear t-shirts. Lastly, women also wear a head wrap, which is usually a chitenge also. Traditional wear is also a special cut shirt and pants/skirt that is made from chitenges.
The homes in southern Malawi are generally made of mud with thatched roofs. In the north, my region, you see a lot more brick houses with tin roofs. This is mainly due to a relatively wealthier population in the north as a result of tobacco crops. Most homes in Malawi are family compounds, with multiple houses and different family members occupying each house. Thus, grand parents, parents, cousins all will be in the same compound. The houses are modest, some usually just a room or two, with some wooden furniture. The kitchen, bafa (bathing room), and chimbutzi (toilet) are separate structures usually built away from the house. Bafa is generally a small enclosed space to bathe, the kitchen is one room with a fire pit in the middle, and the chim is a pit latrine (a hole in the ground with a pit about 10-15m deep).
School for 10 year olds is variable depending where you are. In my village, most of the kids go to school. Classes consist of science, math, English, Chichewa (national language), Chitumbuka (language of the Northern tribe), social studies, life skills, and Bible studies. Primary education is free, but kids have no real incentive to attend school. Most students end up becoming farmers, like their parents and grand parents. They aspire to be doctors, lawyers, and accountants, but do not have the proper opportunity to pursue these dreams. Consider that once they complete primary school, secondary school (high school) is not free. A lot of families can't afford to send their kids to secondary school, so they help farm. The kids that make it through secondary school have limited options for college and again most can't afford the tuition.
There are about three universities in Malawi, and a handful of one building colleges for accounting or nursing. No where near enough to provide a college education to all the students in the country. In addition, part of the political issue between the Chewas (Southern/Central tribe) and the Tumbukas (Northern tribe) is the quota system for the universities. This system dictates that an equal number of students must be enrolled from every district in Malawi, despite their exam scores. The North has a lower population and better educated students (due to the early missions influence) and the highest test scores in Malawi. The South has higher population and the lowest scores. But under the quota system a student with a low score in the South will get into university over a Northern student with a higher score. So there are a lot of things working against you as a student in Malawi and you lose hope quite quickly and accept your fate.
In terms of sports there is nothing that compares to football (soccer). Granted World Cup fever is slowly dying, football is the one and only major sport in Malawi. Everyone is a fanatic and every male, from little kids to grown adults, can tactfully handle a football. Females generally do not play football, though that is slowly changing. However, they do play netball, which is a little like basketball. Malawi is still a very male dominated society, rife with problems of sexual assault, discrimination, harassment, and this comes across in many other aspects of life here. Change is slow, but it is happening.
Hope all is well. I also regrettably admit that before I was assigned I didn't even know Malawi existed. Once I did arrive I fell in love with the country and people. Malawi is really quite distinct from the surrounding countries. While it lacks in popularity, it’s an immensely beautiful landscape, the culture is colorful and the people are wonderful. I firmly believe that because it isn't popular, well-known,and lacks the precious resources of surrounding nations, that it is such a peaceful, unadulterated place. Like a hidden jewel in massively touristed sub-Saharan Africa.
While the country has its share of political and civil issues, it is overall a calm and quite rural culture. Most of the country's population consists of farmers, the biggest crops being maize,tobacco, cassava, sugar cane, and cotton. Maize, though introduced by foreigners, is the staple of a Malawian diet. The ground flour is cooked with water to produce thick, dough-like, patties called nsima (kind of like grits). Nsima is usually accompanied with dende, which are side dishes such as beans, greens, or meat.
Part of our assignment as volunteers is to diversify this diet as it is a leading cause of malnutrition in the country. Nsima is cheap and very very filling, thus in an impoverished country it’s an essential part of life. It provides an abundant amount of energy and you feel full for the whole day. I can eat one patty for lunch and not be hungry for the rest of the day and the women in my village are always concerned that I don't eat enough nsima (average Malawian diet consists of three patties per meal).
Dende is usually greens, such as Chinese cabbage/pumpkin leaves cooked down in water with salt and baking soda. There is usually a protein such as soy meal or beans, meat being a luxury reserved for special occasions. With meat, goat is considered the cheapest; one notch up is beef and pork; and then chicken, eggs, and fresh fish being the most expensive. There are also a variety of local protein fare that consist of mice/rats, flying termites, large worms, and small birds.
Greetings are a big part of interactions in Malawi. Culturally, everyone greets everyone whenever they see them, even if its multiple times a day. Generally greetings are: How did you wake/sleep? How have you spent the day? and How are you? This is very different custom especially for someone coming from Boston where no one greets each other. It’s been a hard adjustment, but you get used to it. I could see my neighbor in the morning, say “Mwawuka uli?” (How did you wake?) and then run into five minutes later and have to say “Mwatandala uli?” (How have you spend the day?). Mwatandala is used throughout the day and is the most used greeting. “Muli uli?” (How are you?) is usually reserved for once a day or if you see someone once in a while. The response is usually “Nili makora” (I am good).
For clothing, men generally wear pants and t-shirt/shirts. There is a local traditional wear, but like many developing countries, it has fallen victim to westernization. Women in the cities general dress in pants and shirts, but in the village there is more diversity. Culturally, women wear skirts or chitenges (large pieces of decorated cloth) wrapped around their waist. Much like sari, but only for the lower part of the body. There is a traditional top, but many women wear t-shirts. Lastly, women also wear a head wrap, which is usually a chitenge also. Traditional wear is also a special cut shirt and pants/skirt that is made from chitenges.
The homes in southern Malawi are generally made of mud with thatched roofs. In the north, my region, you see a lot more brick houses with tin roofs. This is mainly due to a relatively wealthier population in the north as a result of tobacco crops. Most homes in Malawi are family compounds, with multiple houses and different family members occupying each house. Thus, grand parents, parents, cousins all will be in the same compound. The houses are modest, some usually just a room or two, with some wooden furniture. The kitchen, bafa (bathing room), and chimbutzi (toilet) are separate structures usually built away from the house. Bafa is generally a small enclosed space to bathe, the kitchen is one room with a fire pit in the middle, and the chim is a pit latrine (a hole in the ground with a pit about 10-15m deep).
School for 10 year olds is variable depending where you are. In my village, most of the kids go to school. Classes consist of science, math, English, Chichewa (national language), Chitumbuka (language of the Northern tribe), social studies, life skills, and Bible studies. Primary education is free, but kids have no real incentive to attend school. Most students end up becoming farmers, like their parents and grand parents. They aspire to be doctors, lawyers, and accountants, but do not have the proper opportunity to pursue these dreams. Consider that once they complete primary school, secondary school (high school) is not free. A lot of families can't afford to send their kids to secondary school, so they help farm. The kids that make it through secondary school have limited options for college and again most can't afford the tuition.
There are about three universities in Malawi, and a handful of one building colleges for accounting or nursing. No where near enough to provide a college education to all the students in the country. In addition, part of the political issue between the Chewas (Southern/Central tribe) and the Tumbukas (Northern tribe) is the quota system for the universities. This system dictates that an equal number of students must be enrolled from every district in Malawi, despite their exam scores. The North has a lower population and better educated students (due to the early missions influence) and the highest test scores in Malawi. The South has higher population and the lowest scores. But under the quota system a student with a low score in the South will get into university over a Northern student with a higher score. So there are a lot of things working against you as a student in Malawi and you lose hope quite quickly and accept your fate.
In terms of sports there is nothing that compares to football (soccer). Granted World Cup fever is slowly dying, football is the one and only major sport in Malawi. Everyone is a fanatic and every male, from little kids to grown adults, can tactfully handle a football. Females generally do not play football, though that is slowly changing. However, they do play netball, which is a little like basketball. Malawi is still a very male dominated society, rife with problems of sexual assault, discrimination, harassment, and this comes across in many other aspects of life here. Change is slow, but it is happening.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Jacarandas in Bloom
October is said to be the hottest month in Malawi, the time before the rains fall in November. The heat is somewhat unbearable, dry, and the landscape is arid. The roads have turned to dust, raising a permanent cloud of dirt in the air. Occasional whirlwinds blow through and by mid-afternoon I try not to leave my house. Though it is much hotter by the lakeshore, central and southern regions, it is still relatively hotter than normal in Rumphi. In fact between the hours of about 10am to 5pm it’s so hot that one doesn’t feel like doing much of anything other than stay inside, drink water, and nap. Few more weeks, almost through.
There are some positive attributes to October in Malawi. Papayas are plentiful and mangos are only weeks away from ripening. Once mango season is in full swing we will commence the gastrointestinal symphony of sickness from this delicious fruit: jams, dried, pickles and wine. On a side note, achaar is a popular condiment in Malawi. I discovered that much like most things in Malawi (mangoes included), achaar was introduced to Malawi by the Indian community and became quite popular. You can see it sold in the markets and local shops.
Also, the jacarandas are flowering. These beautiful lavender flowered trees line the streets of Malawi’s cities and they are a mesmerizing sight contrasted against the dry, dead, backdrop of October heat. The bougainvilleas are also in full bloom, providing an accent of bright rouge complimenting the lavender of the jacarandas. These trees were barren for most of the time we have been in Malawi, opposing the abundant greenery after the rains. But now, while all the other plants are parched for cloudy skies the jacarandas are in full bloom.
There are some positive attributes to October in Malawi. Papayas are plentiful and mangos are only weeks away from ripening. Once mango season is in full swing we will commence the gastrointestinal symphony of sickness from this delicious fruit: jams, dried, pickles and wine. On a side note, achaar is a popular condiment in Malawi. I discovered that much like most things in Malawi (mangoes included), achaar was introduced to Malawi by the Indian community and became quite popular. You can see it sold in the markets and local shops.
Also, the jacarandas are flowering. These beautiful lavender flowered trees line the streets of Malawi’s cities and they are a mesmerizing sight contrasted against the dry, dead, backdrop of October heat. The bougainvilleas are also in full bloom, providing an accent of bright rouge complimenting the lavender of the jacarandas. These trees were barren for most of the time we have been in Malawi, opposing the abundant greenery after the rains. But now, while all the other plants are parched for cloudy skies the jacarandas are in full bloom.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Late
My last update was in August, after Camp Sky. Unfortunately, I have been travelling extensively since then, coupled with some other distractions, and then In-Service Training (IST). But IST just wrapped up yesterday and I will be spending the next few days in Lilongwe to meet with people at main offices of some NGOs in Malawi. Hopefully during this time I can upload some new posts. For now here are some updates:
- Women 2 Women workshop went well, pictures are on Facebook
- The final sum for completion of the EPA building project is ready
- My Friends of Malawi grant for the beekeeping group has been approved and the funds are ready
- Jo is back, sorry I mean Dr. Josephine Smith
- IST went well, though a major portion of it was pretty boring
- I got elected in to the Volunteer Advisory Council (VAC)
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