Today was our first transport day. We were tasked, in pairs, to get to Chimbiya market from our homes and back by lunch time. We each got kw 500 and market was about 10km away. I was paired with Flamboyant and we had a blast. On the way there we got a minibus pretty fast. The conductor said kw 150, but on the way Flamboyant talked to an Amayi next to him and she paid only kw 100. So when we got to the market (Flamboyant told him earlier that we would pay once we arrived, as mini-buses have a tendency to break down) we accused him of charging mtengo azungu (white man price). The conductor laughed and accepted kw 100 each.
We walked quite a bit through the dirty market, picked up some great deals on veggies. Flamboyant bought delele (okra) and eggplant for his Amayi and I bought onions and sabola (mild habanera) so I could make potato-egg fry for my host family. Once we were done, we left the market and didn’t want to wait for a mini-bus to fill up, so we started walking back down M1 to Mzengereza, and planned to catch a ride on the way. Lo and behold, no one would give us a ride. Tons of EU, Medicines Sans Frontieres, and other NGO cars drove by, none stopped. All the matolas and mini-buses were full from the market, so we just walked and talked, and laughed…a lot. In fact, part of the reason, probably, that no one would pick us up is because we were laughing hysterically and people must’ve thought we were drunk.
An azungu and an Ethiopian just walking down the road. The strangest part was seeing Chinese people drive by, they didn’t even look our direction. Luckily, after 3 or 4 km of walking, an empty mini-bus picked us up for kw 100 back to Mzengereza. We made it back safely and alive, although there was a guy with a big tank of gasoline on his lap, sitting next to Flamboyant, which worried us a little.
Got home, bafa-ed, ate lunch and off to class. After class I went to SoCo’s, bought 4 eggs from his host brother, then to Sunshine’s to get some spices, and walked back to my house. My Amayi was at a church meeting so I started on the fry: peeled potatoes with a piece of sharp metal, chopped onions, sabola (really hot), and Sunshine was good company to consult on the science of spice. Once it was finished, almost dying from the wood smoke in the small outdoor kitchen, I served it to my family for dinner. My Abambo didn’t eat it after one bite because sabola caused him heart burn. I was disappointed, but my Amayi loved it, in fact, that she ate all of it. She said the sabola was hot, but ate the whole thing. I asked her if she was lying, no boza, and she said she really like it.
I was glad for this, especially considering my botched grilled peanut butter. The best part was that the spicy food led to conversation about maji (water) to heal the heat. I told my family that they need to drink at least 4 liters of water a day and that water will keep them healthy, energetic, and sharp. They were all shocked, but they said they will now drink more water, and considering that they drink about 1 glass a day, anything more would be better.
Tamandani is sick and I told them to give him lots of water, his body needs it, and to keep giving him oranges instead of giving them to me. I hope they all drink more water, especially Amayi, as she is walking to the college tomorrow to get firewood, she needs to stay hydrated. I should get some water bottles for them to carry water.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Bonfire Artists
This has been a journey of firsts: first hike, first time in Africa, first time planting something, and first garden. We are studying permaculture this week and we dug and planted our first garden today. A lot of digging, almost 3 hours between the 10 of us, plus instructors and other helpers. We planted onions, bok choy, soya, millet, tomatoes, and groundnuts.
We first dug 2 deep wells to collect rainwater and prevent soil erosion. The water collects in the holes and slowly absorbs into the soil, like a gutter, it protects the bed in the middle from being eroded away by the rains.
The actual bed, a one bed garden, was quite difficult to make and usually we are supposed to make at least 3 beds. The beds need to be double dug, which is to dig about 25cm down, remove the nutrient rich top soil in to a pile, then dig another 25cm down and remove the packed dirt into a separate pile. Then we mix the two piles, along with layers of manure/compost and ash, layering each component back into the hole, like lasagna. This creates a rich, fertile, soil for plant growth, with deep rooting.
We also created a berm at the bottom of the garden to stop rainwater as it fell on the bed and streamed down the slope. This way the bed is protected on all sides, allowing optimum plant growth, channeling water where it is needed. This whole concept of permaculture is to try to imitate nature, so this little bed is a recreation of nature’s complex and cyclical functions.
We use only resources we have locally available, no fancy equipment or materials, just a hoe (jembe) and digging. All of this is new to me. Manual labor is far concept from sitting behind a desk, it makes laugh every time I think about the shift. I don’t understand germination, or why certain plants have to be planted with certain others, or organized in a certain manner, or how water is absorbed into the soil and then into the plants. You should have seen the way Lu looked at me when I high-fived Flamboyant on my first ever garden. Her look basically said: “Oh God, what are you doing in the environment sector?” Too funny.
I really enjoyed learning about it though and I still have so much left to learn. Permaculture is fascinating, especially considering the long-term benefits and increased plant production. And lord knows we finance folk get giddy at the mere thought of efficiency. All the other trainees seem to be experts already in plant and soil science, especially SoCo, IT, and Flamboyant. I do like being so connected to the planting process.
As we were shaping our bed, dark clouds swept into the sky. Sunshine stated 20mins until rain falls. It took an hour, fortunately, just in time to water our finished bed and test our wells and berm. Tomorrow, we are at the college, but Friday we will plant the berm with agave or lemon grass. In the bottom corner of the bed, we planted a banana tree, because they absorb a lot of water, thus serving as more protection. We also planted soya next to it to put nitrogen back in to the soil. Quite proud of our little garden.
When I got home today, only Lea, Tamadani, and Amidu were around. All the females of the house (except Lea) were out harvesting beans, which we later shelled and had for dinner that night (crazy to think of fresh food). While I waited for them to return from the fields, I sat on the main house verandah and wrote, and gave the three of them pens and paper. We had a blast. I feel like I’m finally connecting to my host family and it’s with drawing! The art form that surpasses language in human communication. Amidu is hilarious, he just scribbled all over the page saying his name constantly.
After the ladies of the house returned, we burned the old bean shells in a big bonfire on the large rock next to the house. All the kids gathered around, Lea was dancing, Amidu was just standing in the smoke, and Tamadani was eating sugar cane, it was a fun evening.
Dinner was quiet, as Abambo was in Dedza for a painting job, but after dinner Amayi saw the kids’ drawings from earlier and just laughed for the next hour. Joyce grabbed a pencil and drew a picture of me, which was funny because it had lots of hair. After showing me the masterpiece, she hid her face embarrassed. Then they all asked me to draw Sunshine and Flamboyant, both characters they were familiar with. I did and they all got a huge laugh, especially from my depiction of Sunshine with a cigarette and scruffy beard.
A great night, I finally felt a small connection to my host family, even though it reminded me of my own family back home.
We first dug 2 deep wells to collect rainwater and prevent soil erosion. The water collects in the holes and slowly absorbs into the soil, like a gutter, it protects the bed in the middle from being eroded away by the rains.
The actual bed, a one bed garden, was quite difficult to make and usually we are supposed to make at least 3 beds. The beds need to be double dug, which is to dig about 25cm down, remove the nutrient rich top soil in to a pile, then dig another 25cm down and remove the packed dirt into a separate pile. Then we mix the two piles, along with layers of manure/compost and ash, layering each component back into the hole, like lasagna. This creates a rich, fertile, soil for plant growth, with deep rooting.
We also created a berm at the bottom of the garden to stop rainwater as it fell on the bed and streamed down the slope. This way the bed is protected on all sides, allowing optimum plant growth, channeling water where it is needed. This whole concept of permaculture is to try to imitate nature, so this little bed is a recreation of nature’s complex and cyclical functions.
We use only resources we have locally available, no fancy equipment or materials, just a hoe (jembe) and digging. All of this is new to me. Manual labor is far concept from sitting behind a desk, it makes laugh every time I think about the shift. I don’t understand germination, or why certain plants have to be planted with certain others, or organized in a certain manner, or how water is absorbed into the soil and then into the plants. You should have seen the way Lu looked at me when I high-fived Flamboyant on my first ever garden. Her look basically said: “Oh God, what are you doing in the environment sector?” Too funny.
I really enjoyed learning about it though and I still have so much left to learn. Permaculture is fascinating, especially considering the long-term benefits and increased plant production. And lord knows we finance folk get giddy at the mere thought of efficiency. All the other trainees seem to be experts already in plant and soil science, especially SoCo, IT, and Flamboyant. I do like being so connected to the planting process.
As we were shaping our bed, dark clouds swept into the sky. Sunshine stated 20mins until rain falls. It took an hour, fortunately, just in time to water our finished bed and test our wells and berm. Tomorrow, we are at the college, but Friday we will plant the berm with agave or lemon grass. In the bottom corner of the bed, we planted a banana tree, because they absorb a lot of water, thus serving as more protection. We also planted soya next to it to put nitrogen back in to the soil. Quite proud of our little garden.
When I got home today, only Lea, Tamadani, and Amidu were around. All the females of the house (except Lea) were out harvesting beans, which we later shelled and had for dinner that night (crazy to think of fresh food). While I waited for them to return from the fields, I sat on the main house verandah and wrote, and gave the three of them pens and paper. We had a blast. I feel like I’m finally connecting to my host family and it’s with drawing! The art form that surpasses language in human communication. Amidu is hilarious, he just scribbled all over the page saying his name constantly.
After the ladies of the house returned, we burned the old bean shells in a big bonfire on the large rock next to the house. All the kids gathered around, Lea was dancing, Amidu was just standing in the smoke, and Tamadani was eating sugar cane, it was a fun evening.
Dinner was quiet, as Abambo was in Dedza for a painting job, but after dinner Amayi saw the kids’ drawings from earlier and just laughed for the next hour. Joyce grabbed a pencil and drew a picture of me, which was funny because it had lots of hair. After showing me the masterpiece, she hid her face embarrassed. Then they all asked me to draw Sunshine and Flamboyant, both characters they were familiar with. I did and they all got a huge laugh, especially from my depiction of Sunshine with a cigarette and scruffy beard.
A great night, I finally felt a small connection to my host family, even though it reminded me of my own family back home.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Meflaquin Dreams
There are days I wake up and wonder what I’m doing here? I know nothing about the environment, nothing about nature. I traded my wonderfully numb life in Boston to live in a mud hut in Malawi. Those are the days I wake up thinking I’m in my apartment in Boston; the voices outside are those of Diana and Fang, or Jeff (who would usually never be up that early). But once my eyes adjust to the dim light that filters through the window, I realize how far I am. It’s a perturbing feeling, its realism shakes me a bit, that a mind can play such powerful tricks. Mostly, I worry if I will last the 2 years here.
They told us we would have many good days and many bad days. The peaks and troughs have decreased since I left Boston, but they have increased in frequency. Peace Corps seems like a great program, the ideal program for development, especially in the Environment sector, which provides a lot of freedom in projects.
It’s nice to be away from everything for a while, from the drama of friends, always managing expectations, competing in the rat race – all things that were swept out of my mind as I landed in Lilongwe. Things I would worry about, things I should worry about, like my finances, bills, staying in touch with people, networking, I no longer think about. I guess, partially, this security is due to the fact that PC is taking full responsibility of us. I hope my family is safe and healthy, that I talk to them soon, and that’s pretty much all. Oh and that I get letters. I do enjoy getting letters.
In fact, getting this journal was such a great joy, it smells of encouragement (and really good leather). Whenever I am down, it reminds me of why I’m here, and of friends back in the states. It’s been awfully busy here between adapting and learning the language, I haven’t had the time or energy to miss people from home. Just going with the flow…
They told us we would have many good days and many bad days. The peaks and troughs have decreased since I left Boston, but they have increased in frequency. Peace Corps seems like a great program, the ideal program for development, especially in the Environment sector, which provides a lot of freedom in projects.
It’s nice to be away from everything for a while, from the drama of friends, always managing expectations, competing in the rat race – all things that were swept out of my mind as I landed in Lilongwe. Things I would worry about, things I should worry about, like my finances, bills, staying in touch with people, networking, I no longer think about. I guess, partially, this security is due to the fact that PC is taking full responsibility of us. I hope my family is safe and healthy, that I talk to them soon, and that’s pretty much all. Oh and that I get letters. I do enjoy getting letters.
In fact, getting this journal was such a great joy, it smells of encouragement (and really good leather). Whenever I am down, it reminds me of why I’m here, and of friends back in the states. It’s been awfully busy here between adapting and learning the language, I haven’t had the time or energy to miss people from home. Just going with the flow…
Saturday, March 6, 2010
The Assignment
We were assigned to our host villages and our languages the other day. I was one of six assigned to learn Chitumbuka. Not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse, or even how that decision was made, but it’s done. Tumbuka means my site will be in Northern Malawi, where the Tumbuka tribe is prominent. I was somewhat disappointed about the selection because I had already invested so much into learning Chichewa. Also, the national language of Malawi is Chichewa, it is taught in all the schools, so we technically will have to know 2 languages, while the others can become expert in Chewa. The two are somewhat similar but still quite different. We have about 8 weeks until our LPI examination in each language, it’s a time a crunch with all the other trainings. Crossing my fingers.
As for the host villages, we were separated into two groups, one sent to Chikanda and the other to Mzengereza. We will live in these villages for about seven weeks with a local host family. I was sent to Mzengereza, which literally translates to “dily daly,” and my host family’s name is Chongo. Today was our last day at the college, the first day we are sent sailing out of the bubble of comfort. After breakfast we packed our things and went to Dedza boma to buy necessities, like toiletries and cookies (or as we like to refer to them: “coping mechanism”).
The ride into our villages was one of the most nerve racking experiences of my life. As we loaded the cruisers with bags and cases and took our seats, a cloud of fear and anxiety settled over us. And it only got heavier. On the way to Mzengereza, we got to see more of Malawi and it was beautiful, indescribable. Initially, I was feeling fine, perhaps a few butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I was cracking immature jokes with Flamboyant and making fun of IT, who was crying and on the verge of puking out everything in her stomach (nerves and bumpy road). The ride was shaky, as there are no paved roads, and Franklin was grabbing onto whatever she could. Slowly, as the mud path got worse, as we got farther away from people and closer to miles of empty fields and forests, as we got closer to Mzengereza, it hit me – like a brick wall.
The butterflies turned into dragons, my face grew numb (literally could not feel anything touching my face) and my mind began to panic. It screamed: what the hell are you doing? What did you sign up for? You left a comfortable life to live in the middle of nowhere Africa, to live with a family you don’t know, with no way to communicate with the outside world! To top it all off, so far from family and friends. Franklin had to calm me down and worrying about IT puking provided a good distraction.
Luckily, we arrived vomit-free, driving into an open field full of villagers clapping and cheering and a line of empty chairs for us. Beatrice, Helen, Lovemore, and Charity were also there waiting. The cruisers stopped, we were overwhelmed, and as I was getting out I banged my head on the top of the car frame. Once we all sat down to a crowd of stares, the Afumu (Village Chief) spoke, followed by the Agroupo (Senior Group Chief), both welcoming us to the village, told us to treat this as our home. Then, the host families were called out, followed by the assigned volunteer, one pair at a time.
Everyone was called up except me and Flamboyant. We were just sitting there awkwardly. Our families didn’t show up. Well Flamboyant’s did, very late, but mine never came. Great start. Not that I’m nervous enough already. Another woman in the village had to walk me to the family compound. All in all an interesting experience, and I look forward to more such interesting experiences in homestay. Mmm chimanga, mpatatas, nkuku, mandazis and other new foods…
As for the host villages, we were separated into two groups, one sent to Chikanda and the other to Mzengereza. We will live in these villages for about seven weeks with a local host family. I was sent to Mzengereza, which literally translates to “dily daly,” and my host family’s name is Chongo. Today was our last day at the college, the first day we are sent sailing out of the bubble of comfort. After breakfast we packed our things and went to Dedza boma to buy necessities, like toiletries and cookies (or as we like to refer to them: “coping mechanism”).
The ride into our villages was one of the most nerve racking experiences of my life. As we loaded the cruisers with bags and cases and took our seats, a cloud of fear and anxiety settled over us. And it only got heavier. On the way to Mzengereza, we got to see more of Malawi and it was beautiful, indescribable. Initially, I was feeling fine, perhaps a few butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I was cracking immature jokes with Flamboyant and making fun of IT, who was crying and on the verge of puking out everything in her stomach (nerves and bumpy road). The ride was shaky, as there are no paved roads, and Franklin was grabbing onto whatever she could. Slowly, as the mud path got worse, as we got farther away from people and closer to miles of empty fields and forests, as we got closer to Mzengereza, it hit me – like a brick wall.
The butterflies turned into dragons, my face grew numb (literally could not feel anything touching my face) and my mind began to panic. It screamed: what the hell are you doing? What did you sign up for? You left a comfortable life to live in the middle of nowhere Africa, to live with a family you don’t know, with no way to communicate with the outside world! To top it all off, so far from family and friends. Franklin had to calm me down and worrying about IT puking provided a good distraction.
Luckily, we arrived vomit-free, driving into an open field full of villagers clapping and cheering and a line of empty chairs for us. Beatrice, Helen, Lovemore, and Charity were also there waiting. The cruisers stopped, we were overwhelmed, and as I was getting out I banged my head on the top of the car frame. Once we all sat down to a crowd of stares, the Afumu (Village Chief) spoke, followed by the Agroupo (Senior Group Chief), both welcoming us to the village, told us to treat this as our home. Then, the host families were called out, followed by the assigned volunteer, one pair at a time.
Everyone was called up except me and Flamboyant. We were just sitting there awkwardly. Our families didn’t show up. Well Flamboyant’s did, very late, but mine never came. Great start. Not that I’m nervous enough already. Another woman in the village had to walk me to the family compound. All in all an interesting experience, and I look forward to more such interesting experiences in homestay. Mmm chimanga, mpatatas, nkuku, mandazis and other new foods…
Thursday, March 4, 2010
First Hike
Went on my first hike today and it was a lot of fun. A bad cocktail of lack of exercise and high altitude caused early exhaustion and I was sweating profusely by the time we were half way up. Almost at the top of the mountain (the one behind the college) the rock path went vertical and vertigo kicked in. So I stayed back, waiting on a rock, while the others went to the top. We were about 5,800ft up. As I was sitting and waiting, lo and behold, Sunshine appears below, slowly making his way up. He came up and we sat on the rocks, enjoying the view. After a few minutes we saw people walking down in the distance. Sunshine, thinking it was the others, yells “moni!” They stop, turn, and walk towards us, at which point we realized it was students from the college. They were climatology students that were conducting some studies at the top of the mountain. Nice guys: Gift, a Tumbuka; Alex, a Chewa; and the third I can’t remember. We chatted for a bit and they showed us an easier way to the top, without verticals, and a faster way down. The new route was much easier and much more scenic. On the way we ran into another student, Felix, who guided us to the top. The view was beautiful, no photo could ever capture the panorama of rolling hills, valleys, mountains, with little villages blooming in the midst. It gave me a whole new perspective of the world. It was almost evening, the light was perfect. We could see Mozambique on both sides. On the way down we found some caves and great rocks to camp under. Hopefully, we get a chance to camp before training ends. It’s been almost a week now with no internet, phones, tv, or computers, and it’s been really nice. Like a weight lifted off my shoulders, we’ll see how long it lasts.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Tears of Laughter
It has been raining everyday since we landed, wet, muddy. Glad I made the decision to bring the 10lb willies. The one time the sun came out it was beautiful, the fog cleared and we could see the mountain behind the college. One of the few troubling adjustments is the bugs in Malawi. There are a lot of bugs, big ones, and I’m just not curiously fascinated by bugs. I will just have to get used to them. More than bugs, I’m mostly worried about falling into the chimbutzi (pit latrine), as it happen to another volunteer last year. That is a concern that has been on all our minds since we heard the story. Tread cautiously. Being stuck in a pile of s@#$ is one thing, but being stuck in a pile of s@#$ 5 meters deep in a hole is pretty scary. After our medical sessions, we are told, we will get quite familiar with our fecal matter.
I have so much to learn here, not only from teachers/locals/PCVs, but also from other trainees. Agriculture and environmental science is unfamiliar territory, so far from finance and corporations. It’s overwhelming to be plunged in the deep end of an ocean of knowledge, almost drowning, it’s intimidating. In finance, I was amongst the top of my class, and people in the industry pride themselves on knowing more than everyone else. Knowledge is money and we have an insatiable thirst for both. We read not to learn, or to help the world, but to store in fact banks. The other trainees are so different, all brilliant in their own subjects, some on birds, others water, farming, etc. They are all incredibly resourceful, a fact I’m reminded of each day, and knowledgeable about nature and development because they actually care about these things. This knowledge is not simply a conversation point to them, it’s their passion, caring for a world that sustains us, yet most people ignore or forget in their daily lives. Especially people like SoCo, IT, and Hobbit, they emanate passion and enthusiasm. I know so little compared to these other volunteers, a new feeling of inferiority, against the grain of everything I learned.
One “rockstar” PCV just finished his third year here, he showed us a slide show of his site and projects, it was immense. The other PCVs applauded his achievements and M said jokingly (with a dash of fear we were all feeling in the audience) “Well, I feel sorry of the poor soul that has to replace Dan.” The important thing I noticed in the slideshow was that he saw a direct result of his labor. He built fish farms with his community and the villagers were able to sell the fish and turn a profit, improving their livelihoods. Back home I made countless powerpoints, documents, models, completed research projects, and it all resulted in what? Perhaps, in a distant time and place a few companies maybe improved their bottom line. Who did I personally help? No one. At least no one that really needed help. More importantly I never saw the direct result of my work. Did I build a school? A farm? No, but I got a shiny plastic trophy. This is a massive shift in values, in a good way. I just hope I physically survive long enough to do some good here (a fear stemming from our ever more interesting medical sessions).
On a different note, today was definitely at the top of my list of laughter days: I have never laughed so much in my life. My jaws, cheeks, face were all in pain, my eyes constantly watering. It started at lunchtime and carried on until 11pm, me, Jazz, Flamboyant, Sunshine, SoCo, and Hobbit (on and off). I can’t even remember what it was about. Maybe it’s the Meflaquin. At dinner we were laughing so hard that everyone was staring at us: the students, trainers, other trainees, everyone. So tired now.
I have so much to learn here, not only from teachers/locals/PCVs, but also from other trainees. Agriculture and environmental science is unfamiliar territory, so far from finance and corporations. It’s overwhelming to be plunged in the deep end of an ocean of knowledge, almost drowning, it’s intimidating. In finance, I was amongst the top of my class, and people in the industry pride themselves on knowing more than everyone else. Knowledge is money and we have an insatiable thirst for both. We read not to learn, or to help the world, but to store in fact banks. The other trainees are so different, all brilliant in their own subjects, some on birds, others water, farming, etc. They are all incredibly resourceful, a fact I’m reminded of each day, and knowledgeable about nature and development because they actually care about these things. This knowledge is not simply a conversation point to them, it’s their passion, caring for a world that sustains us, yet most people ignore or forget in their daily lives. Especially people like SoCo, IT, and Hobbit, they emanate passion and enthusiasm. I know so little compared to these other volunteers, a new feeling of inferiority, against the grain of everything I learned.
One “rockstar” PCV just finished his third year here, he showed us a slide show of his site and projects, it was immense. The other PCVs applauded his achievements and M said jokingly (with a dash of fear we were all feeling in the audience) “Well, I feel sorry of the poor soul that has to replace Dan.” The important thing I noticed in the slideshow was that he saw a direct result of his labor. He built fish farms with his community and the villagers were able to sell the fish and turn a profit, improving their livelihoods. Back home I made countless powerpoints, documents, models, completed research projects, and it all resulted in what? Perhaps, in a distant time and place a few companies maybe improved their bottom line. Who did I personally help? No one. At least no one that really needed help. More importantly I never saw the direct result of my work. Did I build a school? A farm? No, but I got a shiny plastic trophy. This is a massive shift in values, in a good way. I just hope I physically survive long enough to do some good here (a fear stemming from our ever more interesting medical sessions).
On a different note, today was definitely at the top of my list of laughter days: I have never laughed so much in my life. My jaws, cheeks, face were all in pain, my eyes constantly watering. It started at lunchtime and carried on until 11pm, me, Jazz, Flamboyant, Sunshine, SoCo, and Hobbit (on and off). I can’t even remember what it was about. Maybe it’s the Meflaquin. At dinner we were laughing so hard that everyone was staring at us: the students, trainers, other trainees, everyone. So tired now.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Day One
We are in Dedza, at the foot of a fairly high mountain, an hour South of Lilongwe. The flight over the Atlantic was long but bearable. The climate here is cool and damp, luckily not hot and humid (as it was at the airport). I’m still getting used to the altitude, currently about 5,500ft , with occasionally dizzy spells and shortness of breath. My first observations of Malawi were similarities it is to India: the food, clothes, family politics, understanding of time, and traditions. An entire ocean and millennia of history separate two continents, yet we are fundamentally similar, a small world, large only in our perceptions. I haven’t stopped laughing since I landed and hope it continues in the coming months of training. The other trainees are great, such a diversity of backgrounds and personalities, so far from the people I had departed only days earlier. All of them are independent and adventurous spirits, resourceful and smart, with a great sense of humor. We are all about the same age, a few people older, but we all get along well so far.
The real magnitude of this journey, this massive leap of faith, didn’t strike me until we were half way across the Atlantic. When we landed, the idea, the feeling that this was home now was strange, alien. However, the flight over Malawi was a breath taking distraction, miles of rolling green hills stretching in every direction, some mountains scattered the landscape, mesmerizing. We landed in Lilongwe Airport to a big drunken welcome by all the current PCVs. The welcome was quite overwhelming, especially after travelling for over 30 hours, but it was fun. There were screams from the balcony, draped with the Peace Corps flag, and we were greetedwith hugs from the training staff before we entered the arrivals area. More screams awaited, along with high-fives and porcupine needles, as we gathered our luggage and passed through customs.
We all gathered outside in a big circle and introduced ourselves. Within five minutes of standing on Malawian soil Karonga hands me a Nalgene bottle filled with Malawian beer, which wasn’t bad. We were given fruits and a big, warm welcome from Vic the director. The whole event was a wonderful gesture and put us all at ease. After photos we all got in the bus and headed out to Dedza. It was a long ride to the Malawi College of Forestry, the closer we got the colder it was, passing miles of green, with occasional villages appearing in the fog. The dark tall pine trees were a beautiful contrast against the damp mist. The four PCVs that would join us for training were describing the area, but I was too tired to listen.
All the Malawians I have met so far have been wonderful, very friendly and warm people. Our trainers are all amazing, so are the PCVs that are joining us for the first few weeks. The food is delicious, especially mandazis (fired dough), although I’m still getting used to the blandness of nsima. There is quite a variety of curry-style dishes (dende) that go with nsima, which reminds me of home. Like the soya pieces dende. On the drive from Lilongwe I noticed a few Indian people, along with an Indian restaurant, two shops, a temple, and a country club (strange). It doesn’t mean much, nor does it change anything, but it is a comforting sight. A little piece of home so far away. On a side note, the word for enough in Chichewa is “bas,” a word we use often when getting food in the cafeteria. We have about five meals a day: breakfast, tea, lunch, snack, and dinner. The honey here is delicious, especially over some bread, it actually tastes like honey, untainted, unprocessed. The avocadoes are massive, roughly the size of two grapefruits, and very flavorful.
The real magnitude of this journey, this massive leap of faith, didn’t strike me until we were half way across the Atlantic. When we landed, the idea, the feeling that this was home now was strange, alien. However, the flight over Malawi was a breath taking distraction, miles of rolling green hills stretching in every direction, some mountains scattered the landscape, mesmerizing. We landed in Lilongwe Airport to a big drunken welcome by all the current PCVs. The welcome was quite overwhelming, especially after travelling for over 30 hours, but it was fun. There were screams from the balcony, draped with the Peace Corps flag, and we were greetedwith hugs from the training staff before we entered the arrivals area. More screams awaited, along with high-fives and porcupine needles, as we gathered our luggage and passed through customs.
We all gathered outside in a big circle and introduced ourselves. Within five minutes of standing on Malawian soil Karonga hands me a Nalgene bottle filled with Malawian beer, which wasn’t bad. We were given fruits and a big, warm welcome from Vic the director. The whole event was a wonderful gesture and put us all at ease. After photos we all got in the bus and headed out to Dedza. It was a long ride to the Malawi College of Forestry, the closer we got the colder it was, passing miles of green, with occasional villages appearing in the fog. The dark tall pine trees were a beautiful contrast against the damp mist. The four PCVs that would join us for training were describing the area, but I was too tired to listen.
All the Malawians I have met so far have been wonderful, very friendly and warm people. Our trainers are all amazing, so are the PCVs that are joining us for the first few weeks. The food is delicious, especially mandazis (fired dough), although I’m still getting used to the blandness of nsima. There is quite a variety of curry-style dishes (dende) that go with nsima, which reminds me of home. Like the soya pieces dende. On the drive from Lilongwe I noticed a few Indian people, along with an Indian restaurant, two shops, a temple, and a country club (strange). It doesn’t mean much, nor does it change anything, but it is a comforting sight. A little piece of home so far away. On a side note, the word for enough in Chichewa is “bas,” a word we use often when getting food in the cafeteria. We have about five meals a day: breakfast, tea, lunch, snack, and dinner. The honey here is delicious, especially over some bread, it actually tastes like honey, untainted, unprocessed. The avocadoes are massive, roughly the size of two grapefruits, and very flavorful.
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