So we decided to take the night bus to Lilongwe because I hate traveling and figured it might make it easier if I could sleep through part of it. Plus then that’s one less night that we’d have to pay for a hotel. We got to Karonga town around 8:00 pm, the bus came at 8:30 and we were on our way by 9:00. Had some fun peeing behind the coke machine in the bus depot because the 24-hour public pay toilets were closed. Bonded with some fellow travelers by sharing toilet paper. Love it. Banda and I came prepared – I made tuna to eat as dinner on the bus and also made some boiled potatoes/tomatoes to eat at will. I drifted off about an hour in, slept through the hills, woke up around 1 am and simply could not go back to sleep. We got to Mzuzu around 3 am and sat in the depot for an hour or so. Finally fell back to sleep after we started the journey to Lilongwe. All in all I think I probably slept 6 hours. Not bad but it did wreck my body as I ended up dreadfully sick and still am, weeks later. Banda was a keeper – he let me drape my legs across his knees in an effort to stem my back pain. Considering that is was still shooting with pain the entire week, I can’t imagine what it would have been like if I’d had to stay upright in that seat for 12 hours!
Made it to Lilongwe on Monday morning. Wandered around for a while trying to find a hotel that was cheaper and closer to town than Mabuya (where the volunteers always stayed). Finally found a place that was alright, excepting the crazy owner who sat around all day in his bathrobe getting drunk. Ended up wandering around LLW all day trying to get the final things in order – picking up pictures to prove our relationship, making copies, etc.
Exciting times as we discovered a little alcove of used book stands within the bus depot market! I was so happy to see this. 1. Because I didn’t have to pay the exorbitant prices of the chain stores and 2. Just on principle it makes me happy that some people are making their livings spreading literature. And they had such a good understanding of their stock. So fabulous. Got a bunch of good technical books for the MIRACLE library with the leftover donation money. Highlight of the trip for sure. Also went to the stupid chain store to supplement the books and ended up spending at least 3 times as much. But there’s nothing else to do and the teachers are very excited about the purchases.
Tuesday morning was the interview. I was a nervous wreck but Banda was his typical calm self. The interview went very smoothly though. The guy was very nice and he barely asked any questions. So happy to hear that he was accepted!!
We had to hang around Lilongwe for a couple more days though while they printed the visa. I actually got sick on Monday so I spent most of the time curled up in bed, only going out for meals. Fine with me – not a fan of Lilongwe anyway. Went on Thursday afternoon to pick up the visa. Decided to wait until Friday morning to leave so we could just get an early start. Well we didn’t get an early jump because when I woke up that morning and was packing, I realized that Banda had left his x-rays at the bookshop. He needs these to pass through immigration customs in the U.S. Ai ai ai. So he headed back to the bookshop and waited for an hour for them to open. So we missed the early bus because we got to the depot around 8 am. Had to wait 2 hours for the bus to fill. Not good for someone who’s trying to time her last bathroom trip perfectly so that I can make it. Ran to the toilet 3 times…. And the last time heard someone outside asking where the mzungu was. Nearly punched multiple people in the face as they yelled at me to hurry up and that ‘time is money.’ Listen up morons, we’ve been sitting here for 2 f-ing hours, you can wait 30 seconds. Should have known from the 2 hour wait that it was going to be a nightmarish day. The bus ride took forever because with the fuel shortage, few buses were running so we stopped to pick up everyone who was waiting by the road. People were packed into the aisle, leaning over seats and random babies sitting on our laps. Not enjoyable. Finally got to Mzuzu around 5 pm to find no fuel so therefore no minibuses to Karonga. We decided to just get a hotel room but Banda wanted to wait awhile to see if a bus would show up. Good thing we listened to him because a bus came and was instantly mobbed by 30 people who were also hanging around trying to get to Karonga. Banda bravely fought his way and saved me the front seat – the only one my back can even partially manage for 4 straight hours. Had a moment of terror when the bus started to pull away with Banda in it, but they backed up and came to get me. Got into Karonga late but our favorite taxi driver was kind enough to meet us and take us home.
So, long story short, we have his visa! We haven’t bought tickets just yet (waiting for the miles card to come in) but the plan is to leave Malawi on October 12th!
This is my last week of work so I’m trying to get everything done. I think there will just have to be a couple of shelves of unlabeled books, but that’s just the way it goes. It’s still a vast improvement on the way it was and all of the technical books are sorted and in order and those are the ones that will primarily be used anyway. I’ll spend the last couple of days hanging explanatory posters, doing last minute touch-ups, and making certain that Envie knows what she has to do to maintain this whole project. While I used to worry about that, over the last month my confidence in her understanding has grown, so that’s reassuring.
We’ve been selling virtually everything in our house that’s not nailed down, trying to get rid of stuff and get a little nest egg for the trip home! Fortunately we’re going at the end of a month, so people have money to spend, and we’re making some good progress. I never knew Banda was such a salesman! Still trying to sell the house I built which is nerve-wracking since we’re getting close to leaving, but we have 2 very serious buyers so all is left on that is to negotiate a price. And since I long ago reconciled myself to the fact that it was inevitably going to be a financial loss, I think the negotiation part won’t hurt too badly.
Had a nice trip to Livingstonia one weekend. Livingstonia is that town at the top of the huge hill that the former volunteers and I hiked up to last year. Well this year there was no hiking, thank god. Ms. Kim wanted to take me there as a thank you for all of my work with the libraries and also with her English – so sweet! So it was her, me, Banda, Peter Daino, and her secretary and his wife. It was a good mix of people as Peter was full of wisdom and the secretary just chattered away. And Ms. Kim is such a mother – she came full prepared with sandwiches, drinks, snacks, dessert, and wipies. Love her. While the first trip centered more on nature and reflection, this trip was filled with history so that was neat. We went to the museum where the missionary lived, saw the church and the university, and learned a bunch of neat things about Malawi. On the ride home, we got stuck behind a bus that had broken down. Stuck because the road is only wide enough for one car at a time, with only a little bit of space for negotiating on the corners. So we hung out in the car for a couple of hours as they attempted to weld the broken piece back together. They failed but fortunately the secretary came up with the idea to put ground up soap in the pipe to block the leakage. And it worked! Who knew. Anyways, we finally made it down the mountain and home to Karonga. It was a great last trip to appreciate some of Malawi’s plentiful natural beauty.
I also went with Mwambira to meet the village headmen of the area where we’re building a community library. And I thought getting the books to Malawi would be the most frustrating part! Ha. It was basically a disaster with everything that drives me crazy about Malawi “all rolled up into one like a cigar” (as Banda would say). While the guys were initially grateful, the spokesperson finished his speech by saying that it’s soooo difficult to find resources here so they would need us to donate the cement and iron sheets and they would only do the sand and bricks. Umm no. 1. The original agreement was ALWAYS that we would do the books and they would do the building. 2. I’ve already spent over 1,000,000 kwacha getting the books there and Mwambira nearly matched that amount with his own transportation costs from Blantyre to Karonga. 3. The library will serve multiple villages. Go door to door and ask people to contribute 100 kwacha. Totally manageable and they’d raise the money easily.
So I was livid, although I don’t even know why I was surprised. I’ve learned over and over again here that it’s just never enough. It doesn’t matter what you do, people will always see your skin and expect you to do more. It’s nauseating. And it’s frustrating that this country will NEVER be able to stand on its own two feet if there is this constant mentality of dependency. Which there is – from all systems – starting at the government level and working all the way down to the family unit. There’s this expectation that someone else who is better off is going to come in and help you. I used to think the family interdependence was a good, beautiful thing. Note that I said “interdependence.” But I’ve come to realize that no, it’s just plain dependence. It is family members lying and making up stories in order to essentially steal money from those who are actually hard-working and managing to save. It’s not a safety net. It’s a crutch. A debilitating crutch. And it goes on up to the village level and even the whole country. If the donor aid hadn’t been pulled, I doubt people ever would have freaked out to the magnitude of nationwide protests. Sure, people would have grumbled that Bingu was repressing certain freedoms, but man let me tell you the real shit hit the fan when money started getting dropped. Sigh. But anyways, I’m off on a tangent, let me pull it back. So that’s what happened within this village. Absolutely no incentive to help themselves and contribute anything substantial to the project. Just a complete expectation that I would do it all for them. And I know that donors like myself are a huge part of the problem in creating this mentality. Because if we weren’t still coming in and doing projects, maybe within a couple of generations they would outgrow the mentality. And yet I really did (perhaps naively) believe that this project would be an exception. The Malawian community initiated it. They came up with the proposal. They donated the land. They were going to handle all of the building and management. I was just supposed to be the book contact. I wasn’t throwing money around to random people but giving a one-time donation of an actual commodity. Books. Education. Something concrete and a single opportunity rather than constant handouts. I thought it would be okay. I should have known better I suppose. It continued to get even worse as they somehow decided that I would not only be responsible for the library but for the whole secondary school in general!! WHAT?! So they decided amongst themselves that I would spend my life in the U.S. raising money for them because I was “responsible” for them now. They actually used that word. Excuse me but no. I wanted to help build a library, not a school. Not to mention that people don’t just throw money at you in the States. Half the time I feel like they still all believe that the streets of America are paved in gold and that money grows on trees, despite my own attempts to teach them that that is far from the case and that any fundraising requires hours and hours of invested time. Side note: I’ve lost count of how many people have asked me to find scholarships or jobs for them when we go back to the U.S. Sorry but I can’t even find myself a job and Banda will also need some way to pay for his own schooling. Half the time I feel like I’m talking to the wind when I try to explain that I don’t have those kind of connections and that it just doesn’t all get handed out to whoever asks.
The irritation continued as they took me on a tour so that I could take pictures to show donors. Whatever. And there I learned that they only have 2 classrooms for 4 grade levels so the kids just sit outside and wait for them to be free. And that in the rainy season, they just cancel classes. Awful, I know, pulls at the heartstrings, yes? Well don’t be fooled. There are 2 more classrooms already built but they just need to put new iron sheets on because they were destroyed in the earthquake. Which by the way was 2 YEARS AGO. Do something about it rather than waiting for someone to come help you. Also, I walked 50 more feet and was met with a beautiful teacher’s house. Huge. Decorated. Nicer and bigger than any of the Chaminade houses. And next door there was a bricklayer actively working on finishing a second house. With multiple piles of bricks laying nearby, indicating where the next 4 houses would be built. So let me get this straight. You say you don’t have enough money to 1. Fix the school roof so the students can actually have classes and 2. To build the library. And yet here you are building mansions for teachers’ houses. Hmm PRIORITIES ANYONE?!?!? Where were they getting the money to build the houses?? I asked them why this was happening and they gave some BS answer about teachers refusing to work unless they have housing. 1. They’re assigned by the government so someone should stay eventually or they could assign someone who already comes from the area and has housing OR 2. Build something smaller and more sustainable. The houses could be half that size and still be fine. Sigh, so it was just uber-frustrating to see that teachers were prioritizing their own comfort rather than the structural necessities of the institution. Again, not surprising as entitlement and dependence are something I see daily at Chaminade and MIRACLE, but still upsetting to see.
So we’ve put a 4 month limit on their project. If they have done nothing to raise funds themselves within 4 months, Mwambira will instead donate the books to someone who is willing to do their own legwork. As it should be. There’s no chance of sustainability if it’s all done from the outside. So I do hope these people get it together. If it had just been me on my own, I would have yanked those books away so fast and given them to someone serious. Like Lusibilo who I gave half the books too and I trust will do it right. But with Mwambira as the local contact, I know he’ll draw the line when the time comes. So frustrating to have spent hundreds of hours of my holiday time collecting and cataloging the books, even more days devoted to giving fundraising presentations, the thousands of dollars spent, and so much energy too – all with the aim of assisting people who it turns out can’t even be bothered to help themselves.
See you all in a few weeks!
Life here is continuing on.
Electricity has been particularly terrible lately, going out nearly every single day. When we returned from picking up the books, there was a solid 2 weeks where it would consistently go out before each meal. Literally cooked only 2 meals over the stove during that time period. Not days, but individual meals. The rest required cooking outside over the charcoal cookers. Fortunately our current batch of charcoal is fabulous, catching quickly and staying so hot there are actual flames. The only bummer is the filthy hands and dizzy head from blowing on the coals. And the added cooking time as you have to wait a good 30 minutes to avoid having the smoke blacken the pan’s bottoms. Still, I am now an expert charcoal cooker and Banda’s never been a complainer so he often picks up my slack! More annoying though was the internet fakeouts. I’d hike to school, only to find out that the power had gone out as I was walking over. That ceased to be a problem recently though as the internet has not been functioning at all for the last 2 weeks. Feel very much out of the loop socially, job applications have been put on hold, and I know nothing about what’s going on in the world. Just heard about Hurricane Irene the other day courtesy of one of my Malawian co-workers. I’ve gone to the Museum in town a couple of days to pay to use their internet. But it’s just so slow I can barely stand it. Hopefully my boss will come back soon and fix it! As of now though I am coming to you from the beautiful Mikoma Beach Lodge, a ridiculously expensive beachfront lodge that is undeniably beautiful. They even have a swimming pool! That you have to pay 1,000 MK to swim in (roughly $8) lol. So I’m sitting poolside, looking out at the waves, enjoying a cool breeze and wishing Laura was here with me to soak it in!
We’ve been continuing with the visa process. Poor Banda has been traveling throughout the country trying to get stuff done. He made the trip to his home village and then on to Blantyre to get his birth certificate. And he left again a couple of days ago to go to Lilongwe to do his medical exam and police record. He’s been a real trooper, getting all of the stuff done and weathering multiple shots, which he’s never had as an adult and was thus rather scary for him! He was so cute, giving me worried updates about how his whole arm had gone numb. Gotta love him. He had to do a couple of the basic shots in Karonga at the government hospital. Good because it was free. But bad because the ‘doctors’ here had no idea what to do. They’d never immunized an adult before. He got shuffled to 5 different people and they eventually just told him they’d do the baby schedule – 3 shots over 6 months. HA. Not going to stay here for 6 more months Mr. Clinical Officer Man. This resulted in some rather frantic, disjointed calls to the Embassy-approved British doctor in Lilongwe as I tried to explain the situation to him and that while I indeed understood the meaning of a booster shot, the people in Karonga did not. But we finally got it all sorted out! The paperwork is also done and Mom’s papers came in too. And just got word that the interview will be on Tuesday, September 6! So that’s the last stage in the process. If we get the visa then we can come whenever we’re ready – which will be mid-end of October. Very nervous about the interview (I think I’ve seen “The Proposal” too many times!!) but I keep telling Banda (and myself really) to just be calm and confident in the fact that we’re telling the truth and have a plan.
Fulfilled my duty as a Woman on Campus a couple weeks back. One of the teacher’s kids was sick and in the hospital, so as per the norm, the women took turns cooking meals and bringing them to the hospital for him. So I was summoned to cook lunch one day. It would be just my luck that it was the day after Banda left for Blantyre. Awesome lol. So I was a bit nervous about managing it all myself. But the universe was smiling on me. The electricity stayed on (this was during that dreadful 2 week period). I cooked the best rice of my life (I usually either burn it or turn it mushy). And the eggs were glorious too (I usually am paranoid and thus overcook them). Go me. The ladies were sweet, too. Mrs. Nkhata offered to go with me since I’d never done it before. And Madame Kaunda also came over beforehand to check everything out and keep me company while we waited for the truck to come. Handled the in-hospital stuff pretty well, though I was rather nervous culturally and also given that I just hate hospitals in general. It was rather interesting to me though that these women – who 1. I don’t see very often and 2. I can hardly communicate with given they don’t really speak English and I don’t really speak Chitumbuka – should because of those reasons technically see me as more of an outsider than my co-workers who I see every day and who I can fluently converse with. And yet the women of Chaminade have always welcomed me wholeheartedly. They invite me to everything, excitedly invite me to sit and chat, and include me in their activities (like hospital visiting). And yet my Miracle co-workers leave me out of everything, gossip behind my back, or pencil in my name afterward as an afterthought. So I was truly grateful and touched that the Chaminade women included me in the food cooking. Sure I was nervous and I don’t like hospitals, but the inclusion over-rode any such concerns. My heart was glowing with love for them.
Had a lovely adventure in town one day. While Banda was gone to Blantyre, I was bored. I’d already swept dirt, worked in the library, and burned trash (huge bonfire which – thankfully – did not spread to the overhead trees). Plus I needed more anti-malarial medicine and didn’t foresee any brothers driving to town. So I decided to walk to town! I woke up at 6 one morning and felt fit. Fit enough to walk the 2 hours. So I slapped on some sunscreen and headed out early in an attempt to beat the sun. Rather enjoyed walking along by myself, enjoying the scenery and having something to do. Walked for a good hour and then started feeling tired. Flagged down a truck whose owner kindly carried me the rest of the way. Had a splendid time wandering around town – picking up a few odds and ends, chatting and laughing with our usual vendors. The mango lady (the WEP lady, Molly!) and I had a particularly enjoyable exchange as she gave me a seed to try which she claims people suck on like candy but when I nibbled on it made me suck in my cheeks like a lemon. The ladies loved my face. Banda talked me into getting a taxi ride home, which I willingly did. A nice day in town. I love those days in town where no one harasses you for money, screams ‘mzungu’ at you, or tries to cheat you. It’s so much nicer when you fade into the crowd and yet still find some friendly faces to joke around with.
Malawi’s doing alright as a country. Peacewise anyway. There were supposed to be a second round of demonstrations on August 17 if the President failed to respond to the demonstrators’ petition. The general atmosphere was very tense in the preceding days. The President hadn’t done anything constructive – calling for dialogue on day and then the next giving hate speeches, linking demonstrators to the devil, blaming them for the deaths, saying that he’d smoke them out and fight them in the streets, and the latest yet, that he’d bring down war on them and didn’t care if Malawi went up in flames. Oi. So it seemed very likely that the demonstrations would go down – this time scheduled to last 48 hours – and that they’d be more violent than the first ones. But the day before, UN mediators arrived and the demonstrations were put on hold so that there could be discussions. I wasn’t convinced that people would stay at home, but excepting a few random acts of violence, the day passed in peace. Thank goodness! The next demos are planned for 21 September. Hopefully those will get canceled too and that good things actually start happening for this country.
Banda LOVES “Rocky Horror.” And I love that he loves it. He put it on again the other night and it came out that he’s also watched it solo while I’m at work. He always giggles hysterically at certain parts and the other day he was dancing in his seat to the “Oh Janet” song. Cannot wait to take him to a midnight showing at Alamo Drafthouse when we get home. Laura get ready – you’re in charge of our outfits!
I’ve been working frantically in the library trying to get it all done in the next month and a half. I decided to hire some boys to help me with the heavy lifting. Turned out to be a god-send because even with their help, my body is still aching to no end. I’ve decided that all of my back problems have stemmed from this since it had been feeling better the last couple of months, but is now all messed up again. We spent 5 days pulling books off the shelves, sorting them by numbers, and then reputting them on the shelves in order. So thrilling to see all of the 100s all in a row lol. Did all the way through the 700s. Eventually realized that I had underestimated the number of unlabeled ones remaining, so we’re now pausing as I label those. Looks like I will indeed finish within the month though, so I’ll have enough time to train Envie how to maintain it and also orient the students on how to use the library, a skill which the majority of people in Malawi never learn.
Since INCOS – the organization to which I was going to give half of books– seems to have died out, I was searching for another good, reliable place to work with. My biggest concern was finding someone who would be honest enough to actually use them correctly and who had enough resources to do it right. So I ultimately decided to give them to Ms. Kim since she is building multiple youth centers, complete with libraries. She is definitely a mover and a shaker who gets things done quickly and thoroughly, so I feel secure that they’ll make it to the right place! And she was absolutely thrilled. Some will go to her music center. Others will go to the orphanage which currently has an itty bitty shelf of books, and the rest will go to various village youth centers. Wonderful to know that a good 2,000 books are being spread throughout Karonga district.
I also decided to pull several children’s books from her boxes in order to give them to the teachers’ kids at Chaminade. One little girl whose mom is a cook at MIRACLE wandered in one day and I gave her a pop-up book. Not that she can read English, but her face lit up. Kids here just don’t have books. They’re far too expensive and the nearest shop is in Mzuzu (4 hours) anyway. So I’ve decided that each kid will get 2 or 3 books and then hopefully they’ll share them with each other too.
Had some lovely times with Jim and Robyn, our American and Australian uncle and auntie here in Malawi. They stopped by the library for ‘5 minutes’ the other day to bring us some cupcakes and we ended up sitting and chatting for a good hour. Decided at the end of it that we should have another lunch, this time with a Malawian friend of theirs who spent a big chunk of time in New York City. Lunch was great, listening to them and the girl chatter on. Banda and I also bucked up and weren’t quite so quiet as we usually are around them, and even added some stories :)
Wonderful day yesterday. I was feeling lonely because Banda was gone to Lilongwe for visa stuff and the power had been out all day so my computer had also died. Spent the morning in town doing some shopping. Waited outside of the bakery for a good hour, inhaling deeply the wonderful smell of baking bread while waiting for the Brothers to finish and drive me home. Then in the afternoon I got to go to Ms. Kim’s house for our English lessons. We hadn’t met for a while so it was lovely to catch up with her. Also went on a long walk through the villages and then ended up back in her kitchen where she stuffed me with rice rolls (amazing!!) and I got to see how a generator works. Was thrilling. And I simply adore her and love that we have become close enough where we just chatter away, despite the fact that she’s my grandmother’s age. Such a remarkable woman. Anyways, I was grateful to have spent 3 hours in such a great way rather than being lonely at home. Decided to stop in on Mrs. Chawinga on the walk home. Turns out she is STILL pregnant. She said August. Well it’s now September. And she’s still preggars. Adorably so of course. Had a great time chatting with them, asking all kinds of invasive questions and successfully convincing her and her husband that she’s having twins :) I wish I wasn’t so bogged down with household stuff all the time, so that I actually had time to go chat with her and the other ladies more often. Reminds me of the days at the volunteer house where we had Alick and Vicki and thus no responsibilities and plenty of free socializing times.
*** WARNING – Ridiculously long entry spanning a week – 8 pages in Word! I tried to cut it but my rambling was simply insurmountable. ***
We got word on Tuesday that the books had arrived in Blantyre. FINALLY! 2.5 months late and not with the original trucking company, nor with the second company that after a week of enquiries claimed to be the contracted shipper, but in fact with a 3rd company that somehow ended up with the contract. Ai ai ai. Anyways, we got news that morning so I scurried around all day. Had to print all of the necessary paperwork not only for the books, but also for Banda’s visa because we were going to combine the trips. The visa had to be filed in Lilongwe which is 12 hours away from Karonga and mid-way to Blantyre which is 20 hours away. So it made sense to combine, given that they are both huge undertakings. So we spent Tuesday night running around, getting the Deputy Headmaster and Brother Charles to sign letters legitimizing our marriage (the Embassy needs proof for a visa). As luck would have it, Mwambira – my Malawian partner in all of this who is taking care of building the actual library – was already planning a trip to Mzuzu to register his new truck, which would be big enough to carry all of the books! I was thrilled as this meant we wouldn’t have to spend 40 hours on a bus that makes pitstops once every 7 hours…. A feat which is impossible anyway due to my back and bladder problems… so basically it meant not having to pay for taxis the whole way. Oh, and I woke up on the morning of travel with a wicked case of stomach problems. Thanks, universe. But anyways, Mwambira was fortunately up for taking us all the way to Blantyre.
We were supposed to leave early in the morning on Wednesday but Mwambira was a few hours late, but we made it to Mzuzu without incident. By “we” I mean Banda and I, Mwambira and his nephew who unfortunately had to ride in the back because the police will stop you if you have 4 people in the front cab… seems silly since that’s safer than having him hang on in the back. But whatever they say. So once in Mzuzu we split up – us to get Banda’s passport and them to get the truck registered. Sounds easy enough, no? Ha. Banda and I spent hours (not even joking) waiting for his passport. I don’t know how anything gets done here. There was no organization at all. And at a government office, no less! People were packed like sardines waiting in an undistinguishable line/mob for officials who never showed up to work. And then outside in the parking lot, hundreds more were hanging around waiting to process their paperwork. It was just chaos. I wonder if there have always been so many passport applicants or if people are getting antsy to leave Malawi with the changing political climate. Hmmm. Anyways, I eventually decided that we should split, with Banda still waiting and me going to order food, since that itself would also take a couple of hours waiting for the food preparation. So I headed to Big Bite restaurant and excitedly waited for my pizza! Banda showed up just as the food was coming out – great timing. Apparently once I’d gone, some official had taken down names and started demanding bribes to get the passports. Banda balked and called a contact that he had in the office. And that man invited him into his office and gave him the passport straight away, no funny business. So kind of a man who had never even met Banda and only talked to him on the phone once! Goodness knows how many more hours he would have had to wait.
We also went to visit Kenford, Banda’s older brother, who works at a golf club in Mzuzu. Had a mineral and some chatting. We also randomly ran into his sister’s husband. Good times meeting the family! :)
Unfortunately this is where we hit a snag. Registering the truck apparently involved going to 5 different offices, some of which were having computer problems. So Mwambira got stuck in Mzuzu for 2 days while we continued on to Lilongwe and Blantyre. Taxi time!
Banda found an awesome taxi to Lilongwe. It was only 25,000 kwacha ($166) – waaayyy less than anything I had ever been able to find with my mzungu skin. The car had a reclining backseat so of course I almost instantly fell asleep :)
Arrived in Lilongwe late on Wednesday night without incident. Stayed at Mabuya Camp in a double tent, although it was admittedly a bit too cold for that.
Woke up on Thursday and headed for the Embassy, which only accepts applications on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I’d never been out in LLW before and neither had Banda so I’m sure we were quite a sight, wandering around looking like lost puppy dogs, asking people for directions. Enjoyed a bike taxi to the bus depot. In the big cities the bike taxis have padding – so instead of perching precariously on a metal rack, you get a nice comfy cushion with handles to hold onto! I loved it. Used my one Chichewa phrase that I knew to greet the guy, who fortunately knew enough English that we were able to chatter away as he biked.
Now, to be completely honest, I do not like LLW. Was not impressed at all. It is too big, too chaotic, people are rushing around like madmen and are rude, it smells like dust, and is just dirty. Bah. I was overwhelmed. The bus depot is a great example of this disorganization. LLW is ‘organized’ into areas which are numbered. So, our lodge was in Area 3. The city center is area 12. The bus depot is Area 2. And so on. This sounds like a great idea… except that the numbered areas aren’t next to each other – ie 1 next to 2 next to 3! What’s the point of having numbers if they’re just scattered all over the place? The bus depot is similarly a mess. Because the city is so huge, it’s not located in one place but just sprawls everywhere. And it would make sense that all the Area 12 buses are together and next to the area 11 and 13 buses, no? Which makes me think… I don’t think I ever saw those numbers… do they even exist or did they just pick random numbers?!? I don’t know. Anyways, we wandered around for quite a while trying to find the Area 12 buses. By this point, we’re late. Of course.
Finally find the bus and hop on. One great thing about LLW is that the buses fill up in under a minute! We were the first ones on the bus (normally a HUGE no-no) and literally within 60 seconds we were full and pulling out of the station. I was shocked. In Karonga, that same feat would have taken at least an hour. Also, they only sit 3 people to a seat which was fantastic! No being squeezed into a window or elbowed in the ribs or holding a random chicken on your lap or having some guy’s armpit leaning right into your face. It was great.
No one really knew where the Embassy was, so by the time someone finally spoke up uncertainly, we were already past it. Got dropped randomly and started walking. Walked for about an hour, asking for directions along the way. By this point I was beyond anxious because the lady said we could come at 10 and hope that she could squeeze us in by 11. And I was pretty certain that with security at the Embassy, there was a list of people allowed in at a certain time. We made it to the Embassy at 10:30. Sounds great, right? No. Because we still had to get passport photos. We hadn’t thought this would be a problem because the norm in Malawi is that wherever an official building is, passport photo centers pop up. We figured we could just duck next door and get it done fast. Nope, luck would have it that the Embassy is in the middle of nowhere lol. So we had to board another bus that took us BACK to town. Walked around and found the suggested photo shop, which luckily was a legit business and finished within 10 minutes. My hair looked like I stuck a fork in the electrical outlet because by that point I was so frantic and just wanted to get the heck out of there. Got back on yet another bus to the city center and asked them to drive a different route past the Embassy. “No problem,” he said. Liar. They kicked us out at the corner so we had to walk for another 20 minutes to get to the Embassy. Arrived at the Embassy at 11:40. Sigh. I was a wreck. In Malawi, I’d say no problem, everyone’s always late. But this is the US Embassy we were dealing with.
Went in and talked to the security guys. He had to call up the Consular lady because we weren’t on the list (awesome) and she said we could still come in. Thank the Lord. I probably would have lost it if she was strict and refused us or was too busy by then.
Stumbled our way through security screenings and just left our bags there since we had all of our traveling crap that would have set off the alarms. Followed our armed escort (no wandering around the Embassy, kiddos!).
Thankfully there was a man already yelling at the counter about his own visa application problems. I felt bad for him and totally agreed with his frustration that things aren’t explained clearly and then we get screwed for it. I think he hit it on the head when he said “Well if you had told me you needed that form, I could have gotten it for you. But no one said anything!” Agreed sir. Anyways, I felt bad for him but was grateful as his distractions gave me a chance to frantically sort out all of our papers and money. I’m sure the camera watchers just thought I was a mental case.
Finally the man gave up and it was our chance. She took all of our paper s and looked through them. Got to the marriage certificate and turned to walk to her co-worker. “No no no, don’t you do it.” I muttered under my breath. But my pleas were unheard by the universe. The wrong marriage certificate. Well, not wrong, just not valid for the US government. Turns out we needed to take that one down to the central office in Blantyre and have it validated. Which, of course, had not been told to us beforehand. Ai ai ai. It’s a good thing we were already planning to go to BL otherwise I would have had a meltdown right in her office. She said it happens all the time :) But I handled it in stride. And then she told us the other things we’d need for the next step. A birth certificate, which of course Banda doesn’t have because things here in Malawi are not documented. So now he has to go to his home village and get one and then take it back down to BL to get it certified. So, yes angry sir, I agree with you – if they had told us in advance that it had to be centrally registered, we could have done it all in one trip. But nope, now there’s going to be 40 additional hours of traveling for that little adventure. Aaaand he has to get a medical exam with lots of vaccinations (which, again, he’s had but were not documented – ARGH Malawi) from an Embassy-approved doctor… which of course are only in LLW and BL….. one would think they could have found someone decent in Mzuzu so us northerners only had to travel 8 hours instead of 24-40. But nope. Oh and he needs a police certificate, again from LLW or BL. So while I understand that standards are higher in the bigger cities and are thus more desirable, it’s just overwhelming in terms of travel for us, people who live in the north and do not have a vehicle. So anyways, we walked away unsuccessful and I sat outside the office and had a complete meltdown – not because of the marriage certificate, but because of all of the future things and traveling we’d have to get through. Thank god for sunglasses.
While we were sitting there an American couple coming out of the office offered to give us a lift, but alas was going in the opposite direction. Thought it was sweet of her to check though and I chuckled as her husband revealed that they were Tar Heels fan and since I had on my Kansas shirt, it never could have worked out anyway.
I recovered over a chicken pita and milkshake and with the decision to take a taxi to BL instead of a bus. This also meant that we had more free time, so we got to wander through the grocery stores, which are just like being in America! I’m used to something like a farmer’s market and 1 dinky little grocery store in Karonga, so I was amazed. We just wandered through the aisles, soaking it all in, rocking out to Taylor Swift and Beatles songs. Made me miss the States though, plus it was more than a little depressing because I wanted to keep buying stuff but since I make a Malawian wage, I don’t earn enough to buy such Western goods. However, we did splurge on regularly-purchased things that were significantly cheaper in LLW and BL than they are in Karonga. Enter 20 cans of tuna. That’s right. It was less than half the cost in BL, so we kept buying a few cans at every store we went into. And then in BL, we got 10 at one place. Along with 6 Snickers bars. The check-out lady must have thought we were insane! We also got some candy, sauce powder packets (will be heavenly to have different tasting food!), and wait for it… syrup!! Pancakes here we come. Was a bit disappointed that there was no Spam. We did find olives though so I’m thrilled that our tuna salad will now contain olives since that’s always my favorite part! Oh and we got a Nutella substitute. They had real Nutella but it was far too expensive, so hopefully this stuff is good.
Hung out at a little milk stand at the bus depot with a guy who was kind enough to let me share his bench as Banda went to negotiate for a taxi. Got one to Blantyre, waited a good while for fuel – the shortage is MUCH worse in LLW where people have to wait for hours, sometimes days, to fill their tanks. At each station there were dozens of cars just parked along the main roads, their drives wandered off, just waiting for word that fuel has arrived. I can now understand why the political climate is so volatile. But this guy cut in line, pissing people off in the process. And then of course I fell asleep. This was definitely my pattern since we were always traveling late into the nights after exhausting days, so once sitting, I just passed out.
Woke up to find us driving around Blantyre in the dark, trying to find a hotel. Neither Banda nor I had stayed in BL before, so we were at a loss. Finally stopped at some place outside of the city that was relatively cheap. No mosquito net, light not working, and a crappy breakfast, but the door locked and there was hot water in the morning. As I laid there I thought about how it was a good thing that I was raised on Motel 6 vacations. Not to knock Motel 6 at all. Just saying that it’s good I’m not used to Hilton standards, otherwise, I’d have run screaming in the opposite direction.
Woke up the next morning – Friday – and caught a bus taxi to BL city. Had no idea where we were going and didn’t pay the guy enough money. This actually turned out to be a blessing in disguise as they dropped us before we wanted to, but which was actually the best spot. Only had to walk 5 minutes to get to the Registrar General where we needed to do all of the marriage certificate stuff. Headed over there, wheezing at the amount of stairs – there are no 2 story buildings in Karonga, much less 4-story ones!
The lady was not very willing to help but I swallowed my irritations and was polite. Paid back because between my calmness and Banda’s respectfulness, we got it done, despite realizing that the stupid officials in Karonga hadn’t filled out the original document properly. Seriously, people how hard is it to do your job properly?! So there was a frantic hour as we called Gumbo and the brothers trying to get the missing information about our witnesses. Had to pay extra to have it done in a day rather than the usual 2 weeks, which just about sent me over the edge. Because it wasn’t a government fee for a rush job – that would have been totally fine. Nope, it was just dishonest people who wanted a bribe for doing the same job they would have been doing otherwise. They would have been typing certificates anyway – just mine instead of someone else’s. But I bit it back and we got the certificate later that afternoon. The Embassy lady says it’s a true miracle.
Our luck continued as one of the customs clearance guys that we hired happened to be in town and thus picked us up after we finished the marriage certificate stuff. Thank goodness because we had no idea where we were going otherwise! He took us to their office where we sorted everything out. The government paperwork wasn’t cleared until Saturday morning and the trucking company unfortunately wasn’t open on Saturday. Awesome. So we had to hang out until Monday morning. Expensive, but I’d rather stay in BL for some days rather than in LLW. Mwambira arrived on Saturday morning.
We had a grand time in BL just wandering around. I love BL and was honestly a bit sad to leave. It’s not nearly so big of a city, so transportation is manageable. It’s clean. The people are friendly. And most importantly, there’s just an overall sense of order. Not chaotic at all.
We ate all of our meals at Ali Baba Restaurant, mainly because it was across the street from our hotel. It was good though – great pizza and sausages and we also got to have our nsima and rice fixes. It’s funny, I would’ve thought that I’d only eat pizza and cheeseburgers the whole time and yet I found myself missing our Malawian staples. I think I ate rice and nsima more than anything else! Although I did eat ice cream at every opportunity :) We also spent lots of time in the grocery stores, seeking out new items in the different cities, and also some office supply stores. I even found a book store, which I loved browsing through! Books stores are virtually unheard of here. I got some Malawian books for the library though things were so expensive that that kind of hampered me. Banda’s childhood friend, Adron, lives in BL, so we spent a lot of time chatting with him. Thoroughly enjoyed him – he reminds me of Raymond, who of course I miss dearly. We tried to go to a movie at the theater (the only one in Malawi!!) but it was between Kung Fu Panda 2 and some movie in Hindi, so we passed. Decided to go to a football game instead at Kamuzu Stadium. Stood in line for 30 minutes and barely moved a meter. Basically hundreds of people were in line trying to squeeze through a single door. Sigh, oh Malawi. We figured by the time we got in, it’d be half-time, and then it’d take at least 3 hours to make it back outside. So we passed and just went back to the hotel and enjoyed having the opportunity to watch tv – something I haven’t had in 8 months! I watched 2 “Bring It On” movies, although unfortunately not the first one, but the crappy sequels. Still enjoyed the experience of it though. Also watch a documentary about Julia Roberts – who knew she was so scandalous?! Haha. My favorite part about BL though (and LLW too) was that there are so many foreigners that hardly anyone gave me a second glance, and I think those that did, only did so because I was clearly “with” Banda. It was so refreshing to just be invisible and not a freaking amusement show as we foreigners usually are in Karonga where we’re fewer in number and thus an anomaly to be observed. It was a wonderful break. There were so many white children I was amazed. I guess it’s not so daunting to raise children in Malawi when you have immediate access to Western supplies and medical care and can send them to the international schools that are in the cities and actually offer good educations. I did notice though that all of the white people were only together. Out of the dozens I saw, there was only one group that was mixed with Malawians. Maybe it was just a coincidence, I don’t know, but that was a little strange to me, since in Karonga seeing a huge group of only white people is virtually unheard of – at least now that us Marianist volunteers are gone lol.
On Monday morning, bright and early, we went to finalize all the paperwork and picked up the books! Oh it was such an exciting moment to see those pallets in the warehouse and touch them and know that they had finally made it! Packed them into the truck, which groaned under their weight, but managed.
Drove around town for an hour trying to find doors for Mwambira and then into Limbe (a nearby township) where after another hour, he finally found them. 2 hours. Remember that number because it’s important.
Took advantage of that whistle stop to go to the bank. I’ll never complain about a Karonga bank again as it took exactly 1 hour to be served.
Finally headed out, stopping on the roadside to get some chicken, chips, and sodas for lunch.
While we were driving, I told Mwambira that Banda and I needed to stay in LLW for the night to go drop off the visa paperwork in the morning. That it’d only take under an hour because it was just dropping them by, so we hoped that he’d wait for us. He said he wanted to continue on and drive through the night. I was frustrated, but understood that he had business to get to.
Got a flat tire a few hours in. The sun was setting by then so it was chilly. Wrapped myself in a chitenje (cloth) and headed into a field to pee. Apparently I picked the wrong field because I came out covered in blackthorns – little black thorn seeds – so the boys spent a good amount of time picking them off of me, while we waited for someone to bring a pump because of course the spare tire was flat too lol. Finally fixed it all and restarted our journey to LLW.
So we made it to LLW around 10 pm and found a lodge. As we were saying goodbye, I asked Mwambira if he was still going to drive through the night. He admitted that they’d probably only go to Kasungu, which is about 1.5 hours north of LLW. My previous frustration quadrupled at this point. If he were going to get back in Karonga before morning so that he could go to work, I get it. But seriously, he’s going to leave us here and make us find our own way for a 12 hour journey, just so that he can get a 1.5 hour start on us and still arrive at night?! I cannot even count the HUNDREDS of hours I spent on my HOLIDAY, driving around town collecting those books for him, doing presentations which terrify me to raise thousands of dollars to fund it all, not to mention the labeling and packaging of the books and my parents driving them to Houston, plus all of the work I did once in Malawi to track the books down. And we had just spent the day before driving around for 2 hours trying to find his doors. And yet he cannot wait 2 hours for us to do visa paperwork?! Anger. As Banda said, gratitude is shown through actions, not just words. So it was frustrating to see that all of the kind things and gratitude he was trying to express on Monday morning had evaporated by that evening. I’m beyond appreciative that he used his truck and fuel to go get the books (certainly no small task!) but it’s still irritating. This is doubled by the ultimate discovery that he arrived in Karonga at 11 pm on Tuesday evening – the exact same time that we did. And yet we had to pay for taxis so that we could essentially travel parallel to him because he couldn’t be bothered to wait 2 hours. But to be positive about it, I’m holding on to the fact that multiple community will now have access of thousands of books. That is worth it.
So whatever, he left. We moved on. Banda and I stayed at a different lodge in LLW because Mabuya was full. Highlight of the evening was waking up to a huge thud in the middle of the night as Banda randomly fell out of bed. :)
On Tuesday morning we headed to the Embassy. It was much easier this time as we knew where to get off the minibus so we only had a 20 minute walk rather than over an hour. Got there a bit early and managed to finish everything by 11. Nearly died when they told us we’d have to pay another $400 on top of the $420 we’ve already paid. No wonder so few Malawians make it to the US. So much for an immigrant nation. But anyways, the initial paperwork is done and the process has begun!
A kind man picked us up at the corner and drove us all the way to the Shopright parking lot. He refused to accept any money for it, even when Banda reflagged him down and tried to hand it through the window. Made my heart feel good about the state of humanity.
After picking up some peanut butter and 2 more cans of tuna, we headed to the bus depot to find a taxi. Our thinking was that maybe we could travel fast enough to catch Mwambira in Mzuzu and go with him to Karonga. And we didn’t want to get caught in Mzuzu for the night because if we’d taken a bus, we’d get into Karonga at about 2 in the morning. Got a phone call from Mwambira while we were at the depot, saying that he was still in Kasungu. Awesome! I was hoping he could just get lunch and we’d find him there, but he was already on the road by the time my call went through. And when I asked him to at least wait in Mzuzu, he was incredibly hesitant. Frustrating since a taxi is clearly going to make up most of the ahead start that his overloaded slow-moving truck had. But instead we spent the next 3 hours getting a taxi and waiting in a fuel line so that the driver could get a full tank of gas (whereas if we were just going to Kasungu, he’d already have enough). Great. And then he pulled over outside of town and we got to sit for awhile while he removed his taxi license plates and replaced them with those of a personal vehicle. Because he wasn’t registered to travel outside of LLW. Grreeeeat. Should have known then that this wasn’t going to be a good experience!
But we continued on and were traveling super fast. We were totally going to catch Mwambira in Mzuzu. We were having a great ride – enjoying our strawberries (first time I’ve ever seen them in Malawi!) and chocolate covered donuts. And then it all went to hell. The guy was going too fast down a hill and hit a speed bump, breaking the bearing in his wheel. So he fish-tailed down the hill. It was a really crappy spot to have a breakdown. In a valley of 2 very steep hills, complete with corners. So I got out to pee of course and the guy got to work fixing. He had no idea what he was doing and in trying to reassemble, left some parts out. That’s never a good sign lol. The original plan was to send a passerby to the nearest town to buy the part and bring back laborers to fix it. No problem. However, we were stuck in such a bad place that no one would stop to pick him up. So we stood there for over an hour with everyone just whizzing by. By this point it was getting dark. And I was ready to go since our window of catching Mwambira had closed and we were doomed to another taxi. So I wanted to get going since it was clear that the car wouldn’t be fixed anytime soon.
So we offered to pay the guy 2/3 of the original fare, since he had gone 2/3 of the journey. Seemed fair and rational to us according to the amount of time and amount of fuel he had used. Right? Well the taxi driver insisted that we either wait or pay the entire amount before leaving him. HAHA. Tried to reason with him for a while but he just kept insisting. Devolved into loud speaking as he was being a jerk, with him ultimately yelling “tien!” which means “let’s go!” which apparently has the same violent connotation that it does in the States. I was dazed, could not believe that this asshole was threatening to beat Banda because we were trying to pay him for the work he had actually done. What it is about some people that they feel entitled to be paid for work they haven’t done?! We’ve had this problem more times than I can count with virtually everyone working on the house construction, not to mention other professionals in Karonga and other taxi drivers we’ve encountered. In the midst of this, a kind lady stopped to pick us up, so we tried to get our bags and give him the 2/3 money. He refused and instead grabbed Banda’s bag. So we’re trying to get his hands off and he then grabs my bag which is on my shoulder. Yanks and spins me around. This makes Banda angry of course. And I’m scared. But we stand our ground and just keep trying to pry his fingers loose. By this point, I’m telling him that I’m going to call the police and they can sort it out and that they’re not going to be happy to see those license plates hidden in his trunk. But of course I don’t know the number because there’s no 911 here (that I know of??). Well the universe finally decided to smile on us because at the very moment that I was feeling like things were out of control, a police vehicle came cruising down the hill. Hallelujah! I flagged them down. The jackass taxi driver started trembling. The police officers listened to our story and within 5 minutes told me to pay the guy the 2/3 amount and feel free to be on my way. The poor lady was still waiting anxiously, so we paid the jerk and hopped into the back of her truck. Left my notepad in the taxi :( I was so proud of myself for keeping such detailed records of all of our expenses. And my awesome pen that Ms. Kim had given me. But, as Banda said, at least I didn’t leave a phone or something really important! So anyways, I was just so grateful to get out of there without something terrible happening. I’ve never been so grateful to see the police! I’m a bit worried about going back to LLW though and encountering the taxi drivers. News travels fast and we’re pretty conspicuous as a mixed-race couple, so everyone will know. Sigh. And the guy was still getting questioned when we left so I’m pretty sure he got slapped with a huge fine for the license plates. Even though I didn’t tell the officers about it (thought that would be too mean of me), the very fact that he had been hired a taxi and didn’t have the right colored plates will be enough for the fine!
Slept in the back of the lady’s truck. She dropped us at the bus depot in Mzuzu. Yet another example of good humanity. I had had enough sense to call Wangani, the nice taxi driver from the week before and ask him if he could take us to Karonga because Mwambira’s phone wasn’t reachable. Wangani was kind enough to wait for us until 8 pm, a real blessing because there was only 1 other driver there, so we would have been up a creek. Again, wonderful humanity. He got us to Karonga in only 3 hours, so we arrived at 11 pm. So happy to be home after the whole mess and a week of travel.
Mwambira came over the next morning to unload the books at MIRACLE. Found out that he arrived at 11 pm too. Whoot whoot. Anyways, got the books into the library and will work sometime during the holiday to get them on the shelves so that they’re ready for the students to use! So excited that they finally made it to Karonga!!
So in summary, I’m just glad that it’s over. Well it’s kind of over. Mwambira’s building hasn’t been built yet because no one believed the books were really coming. So now he’s getting on that and will hopefully get it done before Banda and I leave. He claims it will be fast, but I’m not holding my breath since this is Malawi and things just move slower here. Despite all of the taxi mess, we still ended up under-budget thanks to our awesome customs clearance agent who got the government to waive any duties – so basically everything on this end was a lot less than I budgeted for. So that’s good. I should even have some money left over which I’ll probably either donate to a library project NGO or use to buy more technical books for MIRACLE. Not sure yet. Was blessed and uplifted by examples of good humanity and frustrated by not so shining examples.
Watched “City of Angels” the other night which I’d never seen. Traumatizing. And Nicholas Cage? Why do people like him? He just creeps me out. But Meg Ryan is just too adorable, it boggles my mind. Of course, she’ll never be more adorable than she is as Kathleen Kelly (You’ve Got Mail) but even in COA, utterly adorable. However, while watching, after he gave up his angel-dom to become a human so that he could be with her, I was immediately like “No way, one of them is going to die now.” Of course I was right, but that got me to thinking, “why on earth was that my first reaction?” Why couldn’t they just stay together and live happily ever after? Maybe because I don’t believe in that. This may sound strange coming from someone who knew within a couple of days of switching from friends to dating that I’d found “the one” and still don’t have a doubt in my mind 8 months later. I wish more than anything that Banda and I will be two old fogies sitting on a porch, yelling at each other, not out of anger but because we’re too deaf to hear each other’s stories. More than anything, I want that. I know most young people dread getting older, but I actually look forward to being old. And yet, in the back of my mind, in the place that I try to slam the door on every day, I fear that it won’t happen. That I am just too darn happy and that the universe knows it. That something will stop that from happening. Because it always seems to happen to the people who are genuinely content, doesn’t it? Anyways, rambling aside, I guess I just don’t have that bushy-tailed, bright-eyed optimism that some people are blessed with. And I consider myself a happy person. No, I consider myself a joyful person. Since Chris always said that happiness was temporal and contingent upon outside events; joy is internal and a state of being. I am joyful. And yet I am also pessimistic. Is that a strange combination or do others feel that internal pull too? All I know is, I don’t want to have to eat pears alone. Poor Nicholas Cage eating his lonely pears. I was hysterically crying by the end of it.
Re: my last blog entry, “The Help” was wonderful. It’s a novel set in Jackson, Mississippi, right around the time MLK, Jr. did his march), told from the perspectives of 3 different women. 2 African-American maids and a white author, who conducts interviews with the women to depict what it’s like being a black maid in Mississippi. I lost count of how many times I succumbed to tears, not because of tragic scenes or the like, but because of single sentences. Because of the emotions and thoughts that they inspired in my mind. Not sure I’ve sorted out all of my reactions yet, but I appreciated that it brought them forward. I always feel voyeuristic when I read books about other cultures. It makes me cringe when people read things and then walk around for a month acting and talking as if “they know.” They know how it is. They know how it feels to be in that person’s shoes. And knowing that has brought new meaning to their lives and they are utterly transformed. Not that I’m saying the book transformed me. But I digress. To me it seems that such a true level of understanding is impossible; we can never fully know if we don’t fully comprehend the context, either by living it or maybe by intensive study that few ever do. How can I know what it was like to be a black woman during a time when African-Americans were seen as dirty and diseased and forced to use different toilets? How can I fathom the pain of a concentration camp? How can I grasp the emotions of living within the apartheid? I can’t. So I always feel vaguely uncomfortable, feeling that my strong reactions to books cannot be authentic. That I will always simply be a poser, trying to impose my own life upon a foreign experience. Acting as if I really understand something that I can never know because I didn’t live it. And that faking seems to belittle the experiences of those who did, as I am trampling in and trying to make it my own, simply because I got a spark in my mind that such foreign events are interesting, so I should read a book about it. I don’t even know how to properly verbalize that feeling, but I was battling with this throughout “The Help.”
And then I read the post-script by the author and it hit me. It’s not about hijacking another person’s experience. It’s about trying to recognize the underlying common humanity underneath. Segregation? No. But I can understand how degrading it is to be seen as diseased, since some people think I might “catch the AIDS” at any moment, you know, living in Africa and all. A concentration camp? No. But my heart seems to shrivel when I imagine the unimaginable pain of losing your entire family in one foul swoop. Apartheid? No. But I have felt both sides of the consequences of racial difference, both beneficial and detrimental. So while I cannot understand the specific moments in a life, I can attempt to understand the basic human emotion beneath it. The author writes, “I don’t presume to think that I know what it really felt like to be a black woman in Mississippi, especially in the 1960s. I don’t think that is something any white woman on the other end of a black woman’s paycheck could ever truly understand. But trying to understand is vital to our humanity” (Stockett). Vital to our humanity. Yes. Attempting to understand. Never fully possible. Yet it is the pursuit that is necessary. Having the compassion to want to understand. That is what makes us human. What makes us responsible humans.
Stockett continues on to write that “In The Help there is one line that I truly prize: ‘Wasn’t that the point of the book? For women to realize, We are just two people. Not that much separates us. Not nearly as much as I’d thought.” I think this is what I struggle with most here in Malawi. Because I see that we are just people. Now that’s not to say that I’m perfect at this. Clearly, if you’ve read my blog, any one of you can attest that I too sometimes get caught up in “they do this. I would do that.” I dish out the phrase “typical Malawian” waaaayyyy more often than I should. I judge way more than I wish I did. Often times without even thinking. But like Stockett said, I try to look beyond the differences, which I suspect is why my frequent exclusions from community activities here bother me so much. Because yes, we have had DRASTICALLY different lives and opportunities and happenings. And you cannot discount those differences. You should not. They are what make us beautiful and unique and enrich our basic shared humanity. Because underneath it all, we’re still just human beings. All of our hearts break when a child cries from pain or hunger. We all dislike being cheated. We feel betrayed when a friend spreads lies about us. We both want to visit my sick friends. And we all get as big a kick out of throwing money at my friend’s head on his wedding day. I wish more people here could see that possibility of relating just as human beings rather than being standoffish or apprehensive as different nationalities or tribes. Actually I wish that everyone globally could see that. I suspect the world would be a much better place if people did not demonize differences. And I’m not talking about being color blind. Or being tolerant. But being truly accepting. Recognizing the beauty in difference as well as the commonalities of those involved rather than getting stuck on the assumptions based on skin color. Side note: I felt like I was using “humanity” too much so I went in search of synonyms. This is what I found: “humankind, civilization, people, human race, KINDNESS, CHARITY, COMPASSION, SYMPATHY.” Wouldn’t that be great if we all focused on those last four when we consider those around us, rather than getting hung up on the divides?
That is why Banda and I work. I’m guessing that some people think it’s a strange relationship and that in some way it must be dysfunctional merging cultures. But it’s not. Because we don’t relate as Malawian and American. We relate as human beings. My mom was talking to someone about Banda and I being married and the lady went off about how great it was that Mom had raised children who were color blind and who dated *insert hushed voice* black men. Ai ai ai. I know it was meant as a compliment and she’s a sweet lady so I know she didn’t mean any harmt. And yet the very fact that she felt compelled to comment, says to me that it’s still an issue! Why should it matter that Banda is black and my sister’s ex is as well? Why even bring it up at all? Why not just talk about the wedding or what our plans are or how we met or any other basic background topic? But if she was going to praise Mom for raising color blind daughters, why not go on to praise all acceptance of difference? Why was race so important that it was the only thing she felt compelled to mention? Why not tell Mom it’s great she raised a daughter who will marry a short man? Or overweight? Or a poor man? Or a chronically ill man? Or someone who wears glasses? Or someone who didn’t go to college? Of course I’m being somewhat facetious. There’s no way she would know if he is these things or not (which most of them are false for Banda – why do I even feel the need to type that?! To impress you that he’s a legit option for marriage??). My point is, why bring it up at all? Why does it have to be so damn important that he is not white? But then again, how did she know that he’s black? His family might have been Caucasians who moved to Africa from Florida and raised him there. Who knows? What if he were an Indian Malawian? Or a Muslim Malawian? What if he were an ex-convict? Or a heroin addict? Or HIV-positive? Or if he were in fact a she? Or any other of the obnoxious means by which people categorize and judge each other?! Would it still be okay? How far does the “acceptance” of difference go? Where’s the limit? Where do outright, self-acknowledged prejudices kick in? When does it cross the line into just being ignored as the elephant in the room, rather than being “praised” in hushed voices? Anyways, I feel like I’ve gone so far off track, I don’t even know where I’m going with this anymore. But my point is that I look forward to the day when skin color is not important enough to even bring up in such a conversation at all or to be used as something terribly divisive as it was in the 1960s and still often is today. Wow, idealistic much? Pessimistic and yet ridiculously and (probably) unrealistically idealistic too. Oh Alyson.
Had a terrifying moment the other night. I had been having stomach problems from the potatoes and was making frequent chimbuzi (pit latrine) trips. On one of them, a bat got in and ran into a wall and started flopping all over the floor. Scared the be-geezes out of me as I was worried it’d land on me like last time. And no, that’s not the terrifying moment. So that left me too paranoid to actually go to the bathroom, so I went back in and told Banda. He pestered me for the next 20 minutes telling me that was no reason to hold it in and mess up my stomach even more. So finally I decided to go back out with him going with me to stand guard and scare off the bats. Thank god for this. Because I open the back door and see a man in our fenced in porch. I freak out and immediately slam the door shut. Because I’m an American woman, right? We lock the door and call for help. But nope, Banda’s more interested in getting the door open so he can get the guy. Oi. So he gets the door open and recognizes him as he’s climbing over the porch fence. Turns out that he’s this 14 year old punk who had been stealing from Banda at his last house. So now we know who has been taking stuff from the back porch. Banda went and told his mother who basically said they’ve just given up on him. Awwwesome. Not really anything we can do.
Although I’m not gonna lie, I’m more than a bit traumatized. I’m pretty scared that every time I open the door now, someone’s gonna be there. It’s not about the stealing because he only takes what he can carry over the fence with him. A razor? Underwear? Annoying, but I can live with that. What gets to me is the violating nature of it. What if he decides to fight back next time? What if he carries a knife? What if he tries to get into the house? Because he’s bold enough and stupid enough to come back just like he followed Banda from the last house. Banda’s been great about it. Even if he’s sleeping, he gets up every night to go out there with me. He says it’s to keep the bats away, but I know he does it because I’m still freaked out. Update: Just heard a knock on the door. Wasn’t going to answer because Banda is gone to town. But then I realized it was probably Madame Secretary’s boys returning my clothes. So I got up, opened the door and I was right. There was Clifford (maybe aged 11?). But he didn’t have a clothes basket in hand. He had two rocks. Not strange because he’s scared of our dogs so I have noticed that he always carries them as protection. But out of the corner of my eye, I see a black arm leaning up against the wall just out of my eye sight. My first thought? “Oh my God, they’re going to break in.” UTTERLY ABSURD. Clifford is one of the sweetest kids I’ve ever met. Most of them drive me crazy at some point or another, but he is always just well-behaved, polite and friendly. I have no reason to fear him and I never have before. And his family is one of the kindest, most generous I have met while here. They welcomed us volunteers more genuinely than anyone else did. So why did that that terrible thought jump into my mind? I do believe that that stupid thief has irrevocably screwed me up. And who was it leaning against the wall, you might be wondering? Good Luck, his 8 year old brother, who was carrying the clothes basket for him and smiling at me adorably. I’m ashamed of myself. I really dislike the person I sometimes become in brief flashes here.
The other day I got a craving to read. I tend to go in spurts here. I’ll read nonstop for a handful of days but am usually so burnt out by the end of the day that I just don’t have the energy. I haven’t had a craving in a long time and was thus pretty excited about it. Decided to get on Amazon and buy “Atlas Shrugged” because it’s one of my friend’s favorite books and I learned long ago that she has fabulous literary taste :) She introduced me to “The Secret History” which is my fave and is now battered with love from how many readings I’ve put it through. I found “Atlas Shrugged” in the Kindle Store. $10. Too expensive for my taste. But I figure what the heck, I want to read so I’m doing it. I click on the link and a message pops up, telling me that there are different prices for different purchasing regions. And that apparently in Malawi, the book costs $19. HOLD THE F UP HERE! I have so many problems with I don’t even know where to begin.
Let’s start from the most pragmatic. I do not want to pay double for an electronic copy. I would understand if it were a hard copy – clearly shipping costs more. Also, if I were having it delivered wirelessly, I might agree. I’m assuming there are more steps involved or something with international wireless? But it was just downloading to my computer… the link is already there. Why the extra $9?! Secondly, I object on intellectual accessibility grounds. It’s already difficult enough to get books here in Malawi. The majority of people have never owned a single book. Students don’t have textbooks. The schools don’t even have enough for each teacher to have a copy, much less each student. Now I know it’s extremely unlikely that any Malawian is trying to use the Kindle Store and is balking at prices. That’s not my point. My point is that Amazon should not be increasing the barriers of accessibility that are already crippling this country. On principle. Thirdly, I’ve bought e-books books here in Malawi and never encountered this before. Interesting, hmm? Especially because the only books I’ve bought here have been trashy, romance novels. So what? Amazon is fine charging the same prices for smut and yet when someone wants to read something that is legitimately decent literature, that’s when they jack up the price? Obnoxious. Maybe if someone can explain to me why this price increase occurs, I’ll accept it. But for now, I’m shaking my head at Amazon. Way to ‘encourage’ a reading culture, ya’ll.
So anyways, I balk. I decide to buy “The Help” instead, which actually turned out to be wonderful. But I didn’t find that out for a few days. Why? Because I download it to my computer. Go home that night. Hook up my Kindle to my computer. What do ya know? The USB cord has malfunctioned. Because Amazon sold a faulty USD cord whose plastic casing disintegrates, leaving the wires exposed. Now I know it’s not just mine because I’ve researched and found hundreds of the same complaints online. Well mine always still worked in the past but now has stopped. So I have a $250 paperweight now until I come back to the US and buy another faulty cord. Awesome. Thank you Amazon. So I try to open the file on my computer. Of course it isn’t compatible. So I have to go online the next day and download their Kindle for PC application, which of course takes forever with our internet connection. Then I have to redownload the book multiple times because it isn’t recognized by the app the first few times. Sigh. Finally got it to work. Amazon is not on my liked list these days.
My birthday was at the beginning of July. Am now 24. I feel old. I thought I wouldn’t feel any different after 22, but I must say, 24 does feel older. Don’t know why. Maybe it’s also that I’m 2 years out of college… truly an adult, dare I say?! Anyways, my birthday was a crazy day. So typically Malawian. We had our weekly shopping in town like always. But Ms. Kim was with us and she is not a patient lady so it was hurried and irritable. Bah. Picked up some nsima and beef to bring home for lunch. Turned out to be a great decision because the power was out all day. So Banda and I just laid around all morning, with him asking me about a hundred questions to get me to reflect on my 23 years of living. It was really nice. Although clearly I need to have a better memory as I couldn’t think of many answers. Side note – my memory is beyond awful. I can’t remember hardly anything from my childhood and have some worrisome gaps in recent history too… makes me kind of nervous for my future actually. Anyways, that was probably the best part of my day.
After a while Brother Innocent called and asked if we wanted to go to Dickson’s wedding. I was glad because I’d been bugging him about it all morning since I wasn’t willing to pay for a taxi and thus wasn’t going to go if the brothers didn’t. So we got a ride with them. I really didn’t want to spend my birthday at a wedding in a sweltering building where no one’s speaking English but I knew it was important that I go given all of the hoopla about the chitenje and me being ignored and such. I’m glad we ended up going! Banda did a great job translating and explaining so I wasn’t too confused. Wedding receptions here are very different. There’s no food. No cake. No speeches. No real dancing. Anyone who wants to shows up. Basically the whole point of it is that people throw money at the bride and groom. It’s their starting-out pot. Most couples make enough to pay for the wedding and then some. So it was a little strange at first but I actually ended up having a great time dancing around the groom with my fellow MIRACLE teachers and students, throwing money at his head.
Banda and I were both ready to call it a day before the brothers were. So we got a taxi. Oi. The car broke down 3 times on the way home. I was itching mad because the guy had already pissed me off in the depot, trying to charge us triple on account of my skin color. Some days it gets to me more than others. But he was the only car there. Oh and the 2nd time it broke, he muttered “This is causing me a lot of trouble here.” Oh bite me buddy. Your car is a piece of crap and we’re not complaining at all and will still end up paying you. If your car isn’t up to par, then don’t try to use it. Causing you trouble, my foot. But I held it in because poor Banda doesn’t like it when I yell at people :) and I was trying to stay all zen. But that basically collapsed on the 3rd breakdown as he started dumping buckets of water into the car engine. Even I know enough to know that that’s not gonna work buddy. And then the car started smoking. And I decided it was time for us to get out. The guy just sheepishly took the money. And we walked away. Thoroughly enjoyed the walk home! It was nice to just be the two of us which is always good for my mood. Chattered away and got some cherry plum. Made tuna salad for dinner since the power was still gone. The following Sunday ended up being more like my birthday. Lazed about all day. Still no power. But eventually the water came back (it’d been out for a good 4 days) so I finally got to shower! Oh how my standards of luxury and peace have changed :)
We’re working on getting home. Well really we’re in a stage of waiting. Banda had to get a passport first. Which of course is more complicated here. Can’t just go down to your local post office. Here you have to travel. He left for Mzuzu early one morning, which is 4 hours away on a bus. Spent the day running around getting pictures taken, having officials sign that he is who he says he is (he doesn’t have a birth certificate – the norm here), and then waiting for hours at the immigration office. Then 4 hours back on the bus. His phone died on the way home so I spent a solid 2 hours thinking that his mini bus has crashed and that he was either stranded or injured or worse on the side of the road. Again, a common occurrence here. Which got me to realizing that I don’t even know what to do in such a situation. Who do you call? There’s no police station phone number. No hospital number. Ai ai ai. Not such a comforting notion. Anyways, he finally got home at 2 am! He got to Karonga at midnight but there were no taxis. Scratch that. There were taxis. But none of them had fuel because of the fuel crisis in this country. So he had to walk for 2 hours to get home. Hired a couple of bike taxi guys to walk with him. I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved to see the kid. And I’m sure my puffy, sob-streaked face was all he wanted to see too :) Anyways, all the paperwork is done and now we’re just waiting the 20 processing days – which WOW is today! Has it been that long since I’ve posted? Anyways, he’s calling while I’m at work to see if it’s ready. Hopefully they’ll give out that info on the phone… gonna be irritated if he has to travel 8 hours only to find out that it’s not even ready. I’m crossing my fingers that it actually is done on time since I’m itching to get things going. But I’m telling myself not to get impatient. This is Malawi, after all.
After his passport is done, we can start on the visa process. It’s a good thing I’m a planner because I sent the consulate lady an email a few weeks ago to figure out what’s necessary and I learned that we have to do the initial petition by August 10! Yikes! Not much of a window between the end of July (when his passport’s done) and that date, considering it involves 2days of traveling and their office is only open 2 days a week. After the 10th, they’re changing the procedures and I have to file in the U.S. Which brings up a whole bunch of other questions about if he’s allowed to go to the US too or will he have to follow later or what. Anyways, just seems easier to try to get it in under the wire. That requires an 11 hour bus ride to Lilongwe, one way. Ai ai.
I’ve decided to sell the house as is. It’s not finished yet. Still needs a pit latrine and a septic tank, but we tried to hire someone else and he wanted to charge as much for labor as the whole house cost! HA. So we’ve decided that we’re just not going to find someone who is honest about prices. This guy never even saw me, but he knew that Banda was married to a mzungu and what do ya know, the price magically is 30 times what it should be! That’s right, darlings, not a typo. Not 3 times. 30 times. So I decided that any money I put into finishing it will not be made back on the sale. So I’m cutting my losses and getting rid of it. Hopefully. I don’t really know how to sell a house here. I guess flyers and word of mouth? We’ll see.
I’ve been applying for a bunch of jobs lately. Mom gets worried that I’ll feel discouraged if nothing comes of them, but I don’t mind. I love researching for different postings and then looking up housing and living costs to see if I can make it. Imagining lives in different places. Coming up with different letters and resumes. I don’t know, call me a geek, but I kinda enjoy it. Ask me again in a month if I’m still unemployed, but for now it’s a good way to spend my time.
I’ve been feeling sickly again which is a drag. Had a good couple of months there. But now it’s back daily. Stomach problems. Headaches. And most recently a sore throat which has spread to my ears. And anyone who knows me, knows my ears are the breaking point. Bah. Went to the doctor. He told me to take double my anti-malarial stuff since it’s also used for all kinds of infections. We’ll see. Also, a strange phenomena. The last 4 times I’ve eaten potatoes – fried and boiled – I’ve ended up with terrible stomach pains and etc. I don’t understand why it’s happening. The doctor said it’s the fertilizer that people are using, so Banda’s been great about questioning all of the vendors about where they get their vegetables. Sigh. I really don’t need to lose any food options here. We’re down to nsima, rice, and pasta now. And I eat nsima every day for lunch so really it’s just rice or pasta. Boring.
Banda went on a bit of a cleaning spree one weekend and I always feel guilty just sitting while he’s doing stuff. So I ended up sweeping dirt for the first time. Yes, sweeping dirt. It’s a daily chore here for women, actually twice daily usually. When I wake up in the morning and stumble out to use the chimbuzi (pit latrine), my neighbors are all outside, sweeping away, making different patterns in the dirt. To me though it seems like a waste of time and energy. A belief which was only confirmed as I sweated it out that day and woke up the next day to find the dirt already messed up again by the animal and human foot traffic. But I felt Malawian there for a little while.
Teaching has started wrapping up. We have a new system here which we are following. Basically it’s the national standards for technical colleges. All it really means is a whole lot more paperwork for me! And I don’t get to cover as many topics because we have to stop and do assessments (tests) for everything. Which I already did on my own, but now they have to be repeated and on and on. Bah. I think it’s actually a disservice to the students. It’s good for the trade classes though because everything has to be learned to perfection or they don’t pass. So the main thing I’ve been dealing with is oodles of paperwork. In my own OCD, list-making manner, I kept IMPECCABLE records. Every single assessment was documented. I kept the overall results list updated. I was on top of my stuff. And then the principal tells me that they’re in the wrong format. Well, Madame, I do believe that is why I gave you exact copies of what I was doing THE FIRST WEEK OF SCHOOL so that we could make sure everything was alright then!! But nope, all I got then was “good work.” Great. She told me this ONE DAY before the external verifier was coming to check all of my work and assess a random sampling of students to assure that everything was done properly. This was the verifier that I told her to schedule for 3 weeks from now when all of the students were done. But nope, the guy up and decided to come the next day without more than 3 working hours of warning. AWESOME. So I worked all day until 9:30 that night, reformatting the 500 assessment records. And then printing them all because the secretary couldn’t be bothered. And then collating them all. And then signing them all. Oh I probably would have exploded at a sweet puppy dog by that point. But I did it all. The next morning Madame looked at the papers and said “This is good work.” All I could do was sigh. On the up side, the students are doing really well. They’ve all been achieving and they are confident – which is reassuring to me as a teacher that they feel adequately prepared. Another beautiful thing was that during graduation, 2 of the graduating students came to me and told me how much they had come to appreciate our Communications classes. That while they were on their attachments (internships), they used the skills we discussed in class. That it made them feel more prepared. And that their supervisors even commented on them! It was like a little lamp shining inside of me that something was finally seeming to have an impact.
Last week there were no classes. Why? Might you ask. A good reason like holiday or exams or natural disaster? Nope. Graduation. Because apparently we need to spend 10 hours (not even exaggerating!) rehearsing a 1 hour English version of mass and days upon days of campus cleaning and brick painting. All because the Bishop was coming to graduation so they felt the need to put on a grand show. Maybe if the students regularly had mass or even had Faith Living classes that aren’t the joke they have become since Molly left… maybe then they wouldn’t need 10 hours of practice and lecturing so that students would be respectful during church services. And days were spent cleaning the grounds, tasks which could have been finished a lot more quickly if the majority of students weren’t so lazy and whiny about working. One whole day was spent with the whole school painting bricks white. That’s right up there with sweeping dirt on that the” things that Alyson just doesn’t understand” list. I got to know a handful of 1st years, though, which was nice as I don’t have much contact with them. There are a couple of good ones in my cleaning group so that was lovely. I was in charge of gifts for the top students in each trade so I spent a lot of time that week creating certificates and wrapping presents. I’m pretty sure that the Bishop – a self-professed education enthusiast – would have just about died had he known that classes were non-existent for a week for his benefit. Campus looked nice for graduation, though, and mass went on well, so it was a success. The Bishop was a hoot – quite the public speaker and very pragmatic about education which could be good for MIRACLE, though bad for its staff as he seemed to be pushing for more qualified instructors. We’ll see. I loved being around the 3rd years again. How I’ve missed Mphatso, Kelvin, Zellipah, Elijah, and Emmanuel. So nice to see them again.
Work has gotten better. There are still many days where I am driven crazy, but overall it’s been much better. I think I finally complained about vernacular speaking one too many times, because now Mbale reminds people every time we have a meeting that they need to speak in English. He’s gotten more than a few dirty looks shot his way, so I’m grateful to him for sticking up for me. Madame Principal has also been great about keeping me more in the loop about things. And Nellie has been lovely as usual. Her, Envie and Paleisha seemed to have noticed that I was getting down in the dumps and have since been awesome about reaching out to me. Love them. While I am still definitely ready to come home, it is nice that the last few months here will be spent enjoyably rather than miserably.
Now that graduation is over, we only have 1 more week of classes. I can’t believe it really. I remember moaning at the beginning of term that it was going to be forever before I get another holiday and now it is upon me! Will probably be spent picking up the books in Blantyre, which STILL have not arrived – the new date was July 23rd but of course that didn’t happen either. They’re now 2.5 months late. Also, we’ll go to Banda’s home village for a few days. That should be both wonderful and terrifying. And maybe even go to Nkhata Bay or to Maji Zuwa. But then again, we’ll also be busy running around for Banda’s visa stuff so we’ll see. Busy holiday probably.
Well a few days later, Envie (library assistant) comes to me in the library and says that she heard that I refused to buy the chitenje and was super rude to madame about it. What?! I never refused! I just said I didn’t know anything about it. Because if they had explained, I surely would have participated! And I wasn’t rude. Sure I was quiet. But I made certain to stay respectful and professional. Bah. So Envie fills me in on everything. Apparently a bunch of the teachers had been sitting in the staff room talking about how rude I am and how I was refusing to buy it. Only one other lady stood up for me (Nellie – we were SO RIGHT to love her, Mol!) and said that no they didn’t approach me in the right way and that I wasn’t rude, just confused and felt attacked. So I’m obviously upset that such things are being discussed in public. Respect here is huge. The moment that your reputation is attacked and you’re seen as rude, say goodbye to any sense of camaraderie. So I decided that it needed to be addressed at the source, since clearly the 2 madames involved did not leave it in that room where I thought the issue was finished. Envie and Paleisha told me that I should just ignore it. That people here gossip all the time and that I should just let it go like they do. And at first I was going to. I don’t like making waves, especially here where when I do stand up, it’s often cast as me just being a foreigner who is ignorant as to how things go here. But then I decided, no. There’s a small group of people at MIRACLE who treat people like shit (pardon my language) and think they run the place and they get away with it because they are loud and everyone else is quiet. Everyone just ignores it. Enough is enough. I knew that my confronting the issue wasn’t going to change anything, but I wanted them to at least know that it was not okay. Maybe give them an attack of the conscience that would make them think twice the next time.
So I went to Mwadame Mwalweni first because she’s supposed to be the auntie of the school. She’s the counselor and we’re all supposed to go to her with issues. I was careful to make it very clear that I wasn’t attacking her. I wasn’t attacking anyone. I just wanted to bring up the issue in a calm way and explain my side and confusion, apologize if I seemed rude, and request that such gossiping be stopped in the future. Well she didn’t quite understand that I’m afraid. She immediately got defensive and started saying that I just needed to calm down because it’s their “culture.” BAHAODINSODINAO. That’s all I have to say about that. So then I informed her that no – this is not the culture that they preach. They talk about how communal everything is. How you look out for each other and support each other. And that if they were following that supposed culture, I’d have no problem. But they don’t follow it. I’m left out of everything. I had to bite back the word “hypocritical” so many times because I knew it would be a fightin’ word for her. Anyways, it didn’t go so well as she just didn’t understand any of my points. And then she started calling the people who told me, liars. I kept their identities confidential, but she just went on and on about how they were trying to separate us. As if we have some great love bond between us. Pu-leeze. The moment you told me that I couldn’t take communion because I was living in sin and damned for not going to church = those feelings gone, lady. The “informers” were the ones acting out of love, while you’re just sitting there lying through your teeth. What does the bible say about that, Madame Holier Than Thou?! So finally I just decided that that conversation was over as she did not understand any of the logic I was using. She basically dared me to go talk to Madame Principal about it (who was the other lady in the room) and nearly passed out when I told her I would. Clearly she thought I was afraid or something.
So I took a breath to settle my frustrations and went to talk to Madame Principal. And it was like night and day! I presented everything in the EXACT SAME manner. Respectfully. Choosing my language carefully. Not making any judgments or accusations. Just trying to clear up confusions. EXACTLY the same presentation on my part. And wouldn’t you know it, we spent that whole conversation laughing and loving each other. Why? Because she actually listened rather than getting defensive about our differences. Because she is rational enough to make logical connections. Oi. It boggles my mind how different those two conversations went. Definitely solidified my respect for her, not only as an administrator but also as a woman in Malawi. Anyways, sorry for the rambling. To sum up, the issue was all sorted out. Turns out Madame Principal was confused by my “I don’t know anything about it” because she was gone the day that the announcement was made to the women… of course I was not invited to that women’s group… so she thought I already knew what was going on with the chitenje. Laid the issue to rest with more love and respect for many of my co-workers. Much less for one. Oh well. Also, my attempt to lessen the gossiping at MIRACLE failed miserably. As I knew it would. Have heard a couple of tongue-lashings about other teachers and while I wish I could stand up for them too, they’re conducted in vernacular so I’m never quite sure of the content. At least not sure enough to act. But then again, I shouldn’t make excuses for myself – it’s much more likely that I’m just a coward who’s too tired of being branded an unknowing American to risk getting into it with co-workers for the sake of another.
There wasn't any reporting going on until hours later and the articles I've seen since then aren't really very good. I'm posting this article because it's much more accurate of the tense mood that was country-wide for the last days. It only covers the first day though. She lives in Texas (oh what a small world!) but is a political science professor who specializes in Malawi and has lived here multiple times as a Fulbright Scholar. She was following the stories all day via twitter. As was I because President Bingu banned the radios from broadcasting live updates and phone networks were largely down, so twitter was the only source of information really. Here it is:
http://habanahaba.wordpress.com/201
On 20th July, the opposition party, NGOs, students, lecturers, etc. - basically the majority of the country (surprising to see such unity!) joined together to plan a PEACEFUL demonstration. People were supposed to gather and march to the town's district council (like town hall I suppose) to present the official with a petition/list of grievances that would then be passed in theory to President Bingu. The issues mainly dealt with fuel shortages, forex (foreign currency) shortages, electricity outages, rising food costs, rising taxes, and just general messings up of Bingu in running the country. It was genuinely supposed to be a peaceful day. The police said beforehand that they were not going to resist, but just guide and oversee to make sure it stayed calm. I, however, was dubious. It only takes one idiot doing something reckless for things to get out of hand... I was impressed though that the Malawian peoples were actually standing up for themselves though and doing something proactive. Malawians are lovely, if a bit passive and deferential to authority figures. Rock on for organizing a nationwide march.
Unfortunately, a citizen decided to file an injunction which would ban the demonstration marches. This is where all of the confusion began as the crowds gathered anyway and the police blocked them, refusing to let them march until their superiors allowed it. Unfortunately, that permission came hours too late (after lunch), so the marchers got antsy and forced their way through, which started the fighting between the police and the people which then spiraled into the fires and looting. In all cities, the police were overpowered, many running for their own lives. People were throwing stones and setting things on fire. The police used tear gas to disperse (aka chaos inducing) and beating people. They arrested masses of people and were even beating journalists. And then later in the afternoon/evening, reports that they started using live bullets. Sigh. Shops owned by Chinese immigrants were most targeted as people view China as being aligned with Bingu. Also, the government-run shops - Metro, PTC - were also hit as were the shops owned by MPs and other government officials. Looted and burned. Cars were also burned. A couple of houses too. Police houses were also looted and burned. Seemed to be the theme of the day sadly.
Mzuzu was the worst, it seems. 9 people died there alone, although the government was originally reporting only 1 death for the whole country. Laughable. Lilongwe was also very violent. Peter Ngoma said the city was burning and his family was locked indoors. Blantyre started out very peacefully as the whole thing was intended. I think it only turned violent towards evening hours.
And good old Karonga. I thought we had escaped chaos here. But really they were just waiting. The march didn't start until 3 pm. It was peaceful at first - they delivered the petition just fine. But then afterwards the looting started. Chipiku, PTC, Metro. No burning that I have heard of. After dark Jim called me to say that 2 mobs had formed - 1 outside of Chief Karonga's house. Chief Karonga is seen as pro-Bingu here. His house was damaged and his car torched. The second mob was at the Chief of Police's house. Not sure what happened there. Gunshots were frequent, though Jim said they were being fired in the air to disperse the crowd. One person was killed in Karonga, though he was a looter, not a demonstrator.
Jim and Robyn have been taking care of me. They are AWESOME. They first called and told me to pack an overnight bag with everything important in case I had to high-tail it. Well that induced a meltdown, but I recovered. Poor Banda. They said that if they were evacuated to the mine that they were taking me along. But when that call came, I guess their security guy said I'd be fine at Chaminade since we're so far from town. Thank goodness. So I'm still on campus, but I have a seat on the plane if things get worse at any point.
So that was all on the first day!
Woke up on Day 2, hoping that it was all finished, but not so lucky. The second day was just looting and chaos though. No actual demonstrations, no organization, just groups of people going and breaking into shops and destroying property. Really upsetting to see actually, although not surprising that impoverished people will try to get what they can. Still lots of gunfire and stone-throwing and teargas. Bingu finally spoke at noon on the second day, though he didn’t say much of anything productive. Shocking lol. He basically blamed everyone but himself and said that all of the demonstrators are being led by the devil and that God always wins. Sigh. Forget about all of the economic and civil rights issues that are being trampled on here and that actually inspired the original march. Oh Bingu. He has said that he’s ready for round-table talks now so hopefully those will be in good faith and actually get things going right. The army was called in eventually which seems to be a turning point. The police simply couldn’t handle it on their own.
In total, 18 people have died so far. Although there are many who are still in critical condition at the hospitals. It would be interesting to see a number of how many were truly demonstrators who are victims of police brutality and how many were caught looters. Though I doubt we’ll ever actually see that number since the opposition will want everyone to be seen as demonstrators and the government will try to cast everyone as looters and vandals.
Everything has settled down today, 22nd July. Shops are opening up again, people are going back to work. Grateful that it's returning to normal.
The next march is rumored to be August 17th. Better get our booties out of here before then! Cross your fingers. Prayers please that everyone just calms the heck down and stops being reckless. It seems like there's just a whole lot of anger simmering now. My worry is that even if it calms down for a while - say while Bingu looks the petitions over and decides what to do, etc. - but as soon as he does the next stupid, stubborn thing, it'll boil over again.
Just a word of thanks for all of the thoughts and prayers sent our way throughout all of this. Not gonna lie, I was pretty scared for a couple of days and had a massive headache trying to come up with Plan A, B, C…. Z to keep Banda and myself safe and get out of here. I’m glad that it’s settled down!
So we headed down to the DC office one Wednesday morning to make it happen. Brother Beams graciously agreed to be my witness, despite being super busy with his impending move. I don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t been able to make it! Loved having him be a part of that. Banda’s witness was Mr. Gumbo, a former teacher of his from Embangweni (his home village). The whole witness thing here is funny to me. As an American, I would pick someone who I love and want to be there for the event. Here in Malawi, it just needs to be someone from your home area who can verify that you don’t have another spouse in the village. So basically Banda has close friends here at Chaminade and yet he had to pick some guy who he never talks to! So strange to me! But Gumbo turned out to be this adorable, cheerful man so that was fun to meet him.
We showed up at 2:30…. As requested by the DC Director. Keep in mind that he knew about the wedding since the week before AND Banda had been there the day before to finalize everything. One would think they would have taken 10 minutes that morning to get everything together. Nope! We get there and the guy tells us that the necessary papers are still at the other office. So Beams had to drive him over there, where he could only find some of the forms. So they came back and there was another search in that office. By then I was pretty convinced that it just wasn’t going to happen that day. But in true Malawian fashion, somehow it all got worked out.
The “ceremony” happened in the conference hall (had to first kick out a guy who was using the internet there). I put “ceremony” in quotes because it really wasn’t a ceremony… it was just us filling out the official certificate. Beams asked them if they were going to ask us any questions about our desire to wed or have us say any vows… The officials’ response? “We couldn’t find those papers.” Hahaha. People were answering phone calls. Wandering off to look for more papers. Etc. It’s a good thing that I didn’t have high expectations. Or any at all really. To me it was just making it legally official. We’ll have a real ceremony/reception once we get back to Texas. So anyways, we had a fun time taking pictures and chatting while the guys did the writing. Then I signed. Banda signed. And that was it! The only ceremonial part was when the officials made us stand in front of their desk and handed us the certificate. Then I was supposed to hand it to Banda. And then he said “Kiss the bride.” I think he’s watched too many American movies. Malawians do not kiss in public. They don’t hug in public. Hell, couples don’t even hold hands in public! So Banda and I both froze. Banda – the one who had been going on for weeks about how he was gonna lay a big inappropriate kiss on me at our wedding. Yeah right, sir! I recovered from my freeze first and decided “what the hell, you only get married once” and gave him a quick peck. Made everyone’s day I think lol.
Paid the $3 government fee. Then drove across town to the other office and paid an $8 fee. Then was forced to return BACK to the first office where the guy asked for his service charge. Um no. I’m not paying you $200 for actually doing your job instead of getting drunk. So I very firmly said, “We already paid.” He caved immediately thank goodness. Didn’t want to have to emotionally cripple anyone on my wedding day :)
Went home and basically had a normal evening! I wanted to make cookies so we’d have something special but the power went out. Haha. When it finally came back on we made a potato skillet with some of the Hot & Spicy spam and Velveeta that Mrs. Stilz sent in a package. :) Great reception! And I say that without any sarcasm.
The best part? We now have not only 2 anniversaries, but 3. April 2nd which is the one that we really use – when I first moved in and when we and the community accepted us as married. June 22nd when we did the legal paperwork. And June 17th….. which is what the guy wrote on the marriage certificate, despite my telling him that that was not the right date. Haha I’ll have to remember that date now whenever I’m filling out official paperwork!
Life’s more than a little lonely at the moment actually. Banda is gone to Chilumba (about an hour and a half away by bus) to invigilate national exams. Invigilating is basically supervising, passing out exams, making sure there’s no cheating, keeping records, etc. He left on Sunday for the whole week and then came back for the weekend. The weekend was great – we did our usual shopping and cleaning but spent a lot more time just lounging and chatting. Stayed up until 2 am talking on and on. It was like the old days lol. He left again on Sunday for a few more days. I must admit that I miss him terribly. It’s strange staying in the house alone. Add that to the fact that I don’t have much interaction at work and I’m starting to worry that I’ll forget how to speak soon :) And since phone calls are so expensive here, we’re limited to a few minutes each night which really only just makes me miss his goofy self even more.
I’m holed up in the library still, desperately trying to finish the labeling. I’ve made so much headway in the last month that the end is in sight and it’s making me even more anxious to finish. Yesterday I spent a good 6 hours just labeling. I’m so ready to organize and paint and see it looking beautiful!!
Jim and Robyn came by the house last week with a surprise for me! They brought me 4 cans of tuna and some already made tuna noodle casserole! I was so excited that I hugged them. And let’s just say that Robyn is not a hugger lol. But I guess I had made some random comment at lunch the other month that I felt like the tuna was taunting me because I saw it on the shelf every week but couldn’t bring myself to buy it since it’s so much more expensive. Well they remembered and so they brought me some! Aren’t they just the sweetest?
In further exciting food news, I got a SPLENDID package from Mrs. Stilz and Lauren!! I love that they never tell me that they’ve sent it because then it’s always a great surprise :) It was chock full of exciting food stuff… soups, sauces, spam, tuna, nutella, peanut butter, candy. Oh it was amazing. I’m already perusing the internet, finding the most creative ways of using the ingredients. Spicing up our food life! I used the soup in (what I think was) a very creative way! Soup on its own is not a big enough meal for a Malawian so I served it over rice the first day and pasta the second day. It was wonderful! So many new spices to savor. Banda apparently loves tortilla soup :) Yewo chomene (thank you very much). Love you both.
Ms. Kim’s music students gave a concert at MIRACLE last week, so that was nice to see. And she used her speech that we wrote during one of our English lessons. I could definitely see the performer in her as she had memorized it word for word and yet still made it sound unrehearsed!
Had a lovely evening one night as I walked home from English lessons with Ms. Kim. I stopped by the Liwewe household because I wanted to buy some phone minutes so I could call Banda. The whole family was sitting outside making mandazi (fried bread), so I sat and chatted with them for a little while. They’re such a cute bunch! Eventually I continued on towards home since it was already dark. Decided to stop at the Chawinga’s house because Kat wanted the madame’s phone number. She comes walking out of the house TOTALLY PREGNANT!! I guess that tells you how long it’s been since I’ve seen her, since the last time she looked like usual. But now she’s huge. And utterly adorable. Cutest pregnant lady ever. She was so excited to see me and hear that Kat wanted to chat with her that I couldn’t help but smile.
The water hasn’t been coming for the last 5 days or so. I feel worst for the Chaminade boys who are boarding… they’re wandering around looking for water for drinking and washing their clothes. We are lucky enough that we have two huge basins that we fill, but those were in danger of running out. Water finally came at midnight one night so Banda was a champion, out there filling up buckets from the tap and bringing them in. Unfortunately the water is really dirty (sandy I think), so most of it is just there waiting to be used only in extreme emergencies. We’re surviving on one small bucket for our drinking water and washing veggies. Send out good thoughts that we’ll get CLEAN water soon!
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