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This website is not an official U.S. Department of State website. The views and information presented are the English Language Fellow's own and do not represent the English Language Fellow Program or the U.S. Department of State.

Sunday, September 30, 2007

Good deeds going unpunished (so far)

I have a confession to make. I didn't make it to church today with Pamela, Sister Anastasia's daughter. However, I do have a good reason, besides wanting to sleep in this morning(incidentally, I've given up on sleeping in here. The latest I've been able to sleep in so far has been 9 a.m. For me this is not late at all, but I digress). The reason I didn't make it to church is because I needed to help out my friend Leah (the woman who toured "Village to Village" with me last Saturday). Unfortunately, Leah's situation has not been so rosy since she left the peaceful paradise of Domasi College a week ago to fill her post at another college outside of Blantyre, about 45 minutes drive southwest of here. There had been several issues regarding serious miscommunication which she needed to clear up, and depending upon how things go, she may either change posts, or have to leave Malawi altogether.

I feel very badly for her, because it sounds like things have not been handled well, and definitely by no fault of her own. She is a very strong, sweet person, but has just been handed a bad deal, and I understand how she feels, as I've experienced similar unfair treatment at a workplace in the recent past, so I really wanted to help her out. You see, since she came here her housing hasn't been sorted out, and when she finally went to her country representative to discuss the problem after 2 and a half weeks in the country without housing (most of which was spent staying with Betsy here on campus, and then with another instructor at her host institution), this person not only gave her a verbal tongue-lashing (from the sound of it), but then proceeded to write up a memo, copying several people from her organization, the minister of education, as well as the woman whose home she shares and the people she works with. In this written memo which she shared with me, several unfair, exaggerated, and untrue comments were made, unfairly attacking the character of a person who truly has been handling an extremely uncomfortable situation with a lot more patience and dignity than most people would.

Because I'm a crusader for people being wronged, especially because this sort of thing recently happened to me at my last place of employment, I really felt the need to do what I could to help Leah out. Her main task was to finish composing a response to the unfair attack on her character and misrepresentation of her words and actions. She'd been staying with another friend in Zomba, but his internet connection was not as reliable as ours here at Domasi College. The connection we have really rocks! Since Leah had already made a draft of the e-mail she intended to send, I simply helped her to clarify some of the wording. Of course, I was a bit upset with how she'd been treated, so wanted to make it much stronger than she did, so she had to rein me in a bit. In the end, I think we composed a presentable and effective response together, and hopefully the impending response from her country representative, the host institution, and her sponsoring organization will lead to an agreeable compromise.

I really hope that things can be worked out so Leah can stay here in Malawi, as she's someone I really enjoy talking to, and hanging around with. I also think she has a lot to offer the people here, and has a very positive energy. It just amazes me how so often it seems that incompetent people with just a little power tend to find every way they can to drag others down in order to save themselves.

Hopefully, I can save Leah from the discomfort I dealt with at the hands of similar treatment by my most recent employers. My only hope is that in my own small way, I can turn 2 lousy wrongs into a "right," or at least help someone else get out of a terrible situation before she is consumed with self-doubt and anxiety. Hopefully the answer will be a better post in Malawi, but we shall see.

The nice part of this story is that we ended the evening by coming across a soccer match at the sports field here on campus, about an hour before sundown. It was a nice way to end a rather stressful week for Leah, and seemed to leave her with a better feeling about being in Malawi, knowing that there are good places and people here, if only she is given the opportunity to make a move. I think there may be too many "Mazungus" here at Domasi College already, or perhaps I'd get another roomate, which would be nice. Hmmm... Maybe I should help her write another e-mail (???)

Another nice thing for me was to be able to see how lucky I am to be here, in this place, and that perhaps my kharma has truly changed after making this life-changing decision, partially due to the extremely negative work environment I recently endured. I'm only sorry that someone else is suffering from a similar fate I recently escaped. She's strong, and she'll be o.k. I just hope I can still "hang out" with her after she figures out her next move. For now, we'll just hope for the best.

I suppose in the end my 'chesed' ('good deed' in Yiddish, as Leah taught me today) was not completely selfless, as I'm hoping I've made a good friend out of it, which is really helping me as well. Does that still make up for missing church this morning? I'll have to consult the Sister on that one. I'll keep you posted.

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Wedding Weekend in Domasi

I discovered last night, and even more so this morning, that this is a popular weekend for weddings in Domasi. I was actually invited to one of them for a colleague/neighbor whom I’ve only met once, but felt too shy to go, as I would’ve had to attend on my own (Betsy’s out of town), and that’s awkward enough in the U.S., never mind a completely new culture. Besides that, Betsy joked with me that she thinks we were invited by default, as she caught one of her colleagues (Lazarus-the guy the Education Dept. who owns the music production company) filling out the invitations secretly under the table at a meeting we had 2 weeks ago. When she asked what he was doing, he had to explain, so she thinks maybe he just made out an invitation for her, and added me to it, since I’m the other ‘Mazungu” (ya, that means ‘whitey’ in Chichewa… catchy, eh?) So, it was pretty funny when she received the invitation in her ‘pigeon hole’ (For the Yanks, that’s British for inter-office mailbox—I’m learning a new English here, too.), as it had my name on it, too, perhaps because Lazarus thought she’d need a friend to accompany her, so she’s stuck with the only other Mazungu here, and that’s me.

In any case, I of course don’t think it would be appropriate to attend a wedding of someone I don’t really know at all, especially unaccompanied. So, here I am at home, watching cars and vans picking up and dropping off people in my neighborhood to go to the wedding (though I can’t remember what time it starts, as I tucked Deliwe’s salary into it, and I think she kept it, for obvious reasons.). Ironically, it probably would’ve been fine for me to attend, as like many things here, weddings are a village-wide celebration. Since this man is my neighbor, by default I should probably be invited. I hope he won’t be offended that I didn’t attend, but then again, I’m a Mazungu, and perhaps they understand that we have strange ways, so I’m likely off the hook. However, I must say I do feel like I attended the party this morning, as this particular neighbor was blaring very loud African music, starting at about 6 a.m. this morning (which, by Malawian standards, is equivalent to about 9:00 a.m. our time, due to the habit of waking up at the crack of dawn). When I asked Deliwe whether they were having a party there, she explained that actually, they were just celebrating their happiness about the wedding, and that’s their way of doing it. Another thing that wouldn’t go over so well in most places back home. It kept me up. Yes, me, the sleep-in queen. I was out of bed by 8 a.m., after my attempts to fall asleep amidst the loud music continuously failed. Ya, a true miracle.

Deliwe also attended a wedding today for one of her friends, and last night she attended the pre-wedding party/dance. It appears it’s often done this way, at least in the villages. The night before the wedding, everyone gets together to celebrate. This particular celebration was held at the “Village to Village” orphanage I visited last Saturday with Leah and Alfred. I thought that was pretty cool. Actually, I really wanted to go along with her to that one, but she didn’t extend an invitation, unfortunately. When she left, she said she’d only be out for a couple of hours, but in the end, she was there until past midnight. I must say, I was impressed, as she’s normally in bed by about 9 p.m. It must’ve been a great party. Of course it was. I could hear the music all the way to my house, which judging by our walk last Saturday, is a good 3 miles or so from the orphanage. Or, I guess it could’ve been another wedding, as this does seem to be Wedding Weekend in Domasi.

I think I’ll celebrate by going for one of my famous walks, camera in hand, before somebody finds me and forces me to get all dressed up and have someplace to go. Tuwonana! (Seeya later!)

***NOTE: Just after writing this new post from home, I proceeded to walk to my office in order to get online and post it. On the way, I discovered a "wedding parade" of mostly women and children dancing and singing. I decided to keep my distance, but continued down the road, and eventually stopped to "peep" in the windows of the Assembly Hall on campus, along with a throng of other peepers. Eventually, I ran into the deputy principal, Mr. Mwanza. I always run into him on the weekends for some reason. He told me this wedding was for someone from a nearbye village (maybe the one Deliwe went to, though I haven't spotted her yet), and he was on his way to Zomba for the other wedding (to which I was invited.) I had to decline, since I was definitely not dressed appropriately for a wedding. However, seeing how exciting the celebration seems to be, I'm excited to hopefully attend, or "crash" another wedding sometime soon. Maybe even this one happening on campus right now. One of the other "peepers" told me it's o.k. to just join in. I guess there's no such thing as crashing a wedding here. I love this country! If I can get some pix, I'll be sure to post them soon. Otherwise, I did get a tip from Mr. Mwanza that there will be another wedding on campus next Saturday, so I'll be sure put on my papparazzi persona for that one... stay tuned!

Friday, September 28, 2007

Thanksgiving comes early this year

Last night, I had the most incredible meal I’ve had so far in Malawi. It was so good, it felt like Thanksgiving came early. The dinner was hosted by my next door neighbor, Sister Anastasia. My faithful readers (all 3-5 of them) will remember a previous mention of her, as well as her adopted daughters Agnes and Pamela, all of whom are featured in new pictures uploaded today, along with my new posting. For those faithful, but forgetful readers, as well as those thousands of new readers who are just checking it out today, I’ll point out again that Agnes and Pamela were 2 of the girls who were on the original “Welcoming Committee” when I arrived in the country about 3 weeks ago (See picture toward bottom of that momentous occasion).

At some point, I believe I mentioned how I met Sister Anastasia about a week after I met her 2 lovely girls (By the way, note in the picture that her habit is light purple—I think this is significant, as she is the coolest nun, well I guess, the only nun, I’ve ever known—besides the ones in “Sound of Music”—they were cool because they sang fun songs and vandalized that Nazi car… too bad they were fictional, eh?). During that meeting, she pointed out that the girls were more or less harassing her for not coming over to “formally” or, as is the case here, informally welcome me to the neighborhood. She’s a very kind, very warm-hearted, and very funny woman. In addition, she’s a fabulous cook, as I recently discovered this past week, since I’ve had the pleasure of eating dinner at her home twice (I wrote about the earlier meal a few days ago). Though that meal impressed me, the meal last night surpassed anything I’ve had here so far, and it was quite a spread. We started with this amazing soup. To be honest, I have no idea what was actually in it, but the broth was very savory, and it had several types of vegetables and some fish in it. I begged for the recipe, so hopefully I can acquire that soon. The table was covered with about 6 different dishes, including chicken, 2 types of vegetables (mustard greens—now my favorite vegetable here—she makes them with crushed peanuts to add protein-yum! The other vegetable was peas mixed with pork), nSima, rice, and fritters for dessert. Dessert is not common here, so it was actually a surprise for me (luckily I generally don’t eat dessert, so I’m surviving just fine, except for my craving for chocolate since I arrived…luckily, they do sell assorted Cadbury’s at most shops).

Of course, I filled my plate, and then went back for seconds later, actually just for the veggies. Because the table was so full of food, we actually ate in the sitting room off of our laps, and at one point someone asked whether I could eat with my hands. I then explained that I’d tried a couple of times, and had a very difficult time with it. Deliwe was also at the dinner party, so she affirmed the fact that I’d tried, but that it was a disaster (though I think she was more forgiving about it than that). I then noted that everyone there was eating with a fork. When I mentioned this, Sister Anastasia said that they were doing that just for my sake. Of course, I then protested, saying “I hope not! I’m in your country, so I’m the one who should conform to your customs!” Then, they all laughed and assured me they were just kidding. Hmmm… since the room was full of “people of the cloth” as they say in the Catholic religion, I guess I have to believe them, right? Yes, there were 2 priests, one priest in training (they called him “brother”), and one woman who was Sister Anastasia’s student, and teaches Theology lessons at a secondary school in Blantyre (the most developed city in Malawi). Ya, those who know me well, realize the irony in this situation. Couldn’t make any of my usual cracks about organized religion, and the serious misgivings I have about the Catholic faith in particular. I was a good girl. Pamela even invited me to mass on Sunday, and I graciously accepted. Hopefully I won’t be struck down by a bolt of lightning in the middle of the service. If indeed God does exist however, I like to think he/she even loves and respects those who question the religions invented in his/her honor. If he/she sends me some sort of sign, I’ll keep you posted.

Being a person of little faith, though, I must say I am struck by the devotion shown by people here. I guess this could be seen as a typical pattern in underdeveloped areas where death rates are high. I suppose if I’d already lost my parents, a sibling or two, and several friends at a young age, I’d like to feel there’s some sort of purpose to it all, and that the next world far surpasses this one. I can say this about the faith here, however. One thing people here “get” is the helping your neighbor thing. One of my biggest complaints growing up in the church is that I often saw little, if any, evidence that people of faith actually make an effort to put others before themselves. Back home, it always seemed like the churchgoers did just that; go to church. There didn’t seem to be much in the way of living the Christian ideals put forth in weekly sermons and bible lessons. At least not in my experience. Not to mention, the history around the world (including here) of exploitation of masses of people (based on race, means, gender), animals, and resources in the name of and for the expansion of certain religions, but we won’t go there for now.

For what it’s worth, the people I’ve met here seem to understand the importance of building community, helping each other out, and just being kind to others. Perhaps their faith is part of that. If so, I respect that, though I tend to think the faith is at least in part an extension of the good-natured spirit of the people here. It’s surely evident in the fact that I live in a primarily Muslim area, and no tensions seem to exist, despite the fact that the country is about 80% Christian. A primary example is the fact that Deliwe is a former Muslim, recently converted to Christianity. When I asked her why, she could give no reason, except to just “try something different.” In addition, a Muslim woman from her village recently died, and virtually everyone in the village attended the funeral, held in the small mosque (featured in one of my pictures on this blog), regardless of faith. Perhaps it’s hard for Deliwe to explain her reasons for conversion in English, but I think this is how religion is approached here. It’s just another way to build community, and to give purpose to some of the difficulties people face. At least that’s my take on it for now, and for the first time in a long time, I see the positive side of certain aspects of organized religion. I think the Sister and I may have a few chats about this. She is one of the coolest people I’ve met in a long time, and well, she’s a nun. ‘nuff said.

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Laughing at or with me?

Ya, today I had one of those moments experienced by most foreign travelers, as well as most teachers. If you're both a teacher and a traveler (as many of those in my field are), you've definitely experienced it. It was one of those mornings during which you have a decent lesson planned (or so you think), but when you start giving the lesson, somehow it doesn't quite go as planned. The biggest problem I had, really, was that I had difficulty understanding the pronunciation of the word 'parallel' by one of my students. For some reason, it sounded a lot like "pilot." Within the context of our discussion, "pilot" would've worked, too (as in "pilot" project), but it just turned into one of those downward spirals, as the students roared with laughter at my attempts to understand the student's pronunciation. I then went into this long explanation about being new in the country, and still getting used to the accent (one of the biggest issues being the way syllables are stressed, which was the problem in this case, along with an 'l' vs. 'r' distinction which is very different here than back home..). I'm not quite sure how well my message got through, but eventually I did apologize for misunderstanding the student, and stressed how glad I was that everyone was entertained by the incident. That also drew a few laughs... with me or against me? Only time will tell.

Of course, I'm getting used to 2 things in terms of the teaching here: culture/ language issues, and age issues. I'm actually used to teaching students who are a bit older than these kids (I call them kids because they're mostly no more than 20 years old.) Sometimes I feel like I'm in one of those huge high school classes often portrayed in the movies, in which the teacher is floundering, trying to get everyone listening and participating. Often students here don't seem all that focused, and it's clear that not too much is expected of them in terms of homework or preparing for class. Of course, there are a few who are motivated, and do work hard, but there are several who are not. This class has 36 students in it. I wonder how it will be when/if I'm given 70-100 of them. I shudder to think. I'll save that worry for another time. In any case, this class should "warm me up" for what I may face down the road, and hopefully in the end, they'll be laughing with me, at least. If not, perhaps I can manage to compose a publication-worthy short story out of it. Ya, that's it...This blog's not the end of my writing ambitions, but merely the beginning. Feel like guinea pigs? He he... my poor 3-5 readers. Let's see if the numbers grow, and whether you're laughing at me or with me. Hmmm....

On a lighter note, Deliwe cooked a lovely dinner last night, featuring "jambo" fish, which she bought at the market. This is the most popular fish here, and can usually be found in the nearbye lakes. I really enjoyed it, and since she served it with nSima, I did attempt using my fingers. Keep in mind that this is not fish fry... it's steamed and pan-fried, so not finger food at all. I think my biggest problem with the using the hands thing is that I feel like I'm scooping up mashed potatoes with my hands, and then using that to pick up the rest of the food. It's really against everything my mother tried to drill into me as a kid, but as a kid I would've loved eating this way. I've realized too that I have little tolerance for greasy fingers/hands. Here, people just dig in, and worry about cleaning up later, while I'm always looking for a napkin, while dropping pieces of food all over the table, and sometimes on my lap or the floor. I think Deliwe does this just for a few laughs. And she's definitely not laughing with me. Stay tuned tomorrow for pictures of our meal. Mwa Swela for now!

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Lesson taught, Lesson learned

Today I had the pleasure of teaching my second class in Malawi, which is the course I took over from another instructor at Chancellor College (as described in an earlier posting—Monday, I believe). This was quite the experience, as this time we met in a different classroom than last time, so I had to ask the secretary how to get there. Luckily, it wasn’t too difficult to locate, but then once I got there, the first thing I noticed (well, actually, a student pointed it out to me, as I was a bit nervous and failed to notice) was that there were virtually NO chairs in the classroom. In my own defense, I did get to the class a bit early, and only a few students were there, all sitting down at their desks, so the absence of chairs was not as apparent due to the absence of students… apparently most of them were out searching for chairs.

Of course, as soon as I began my lesson, I couldn’t help asking whether the students had to pay a lot of tuition to attend the college, and when they emphatically replied in the affirmative, I then couldn’t help making a comment about the lack of chairs, and how they should be provided, as they paid good money to come to the school. Ah, yes, comments like this have gotten me into trouble before, and perhaps it will happen again. I just can’t help myself. I later received a ride home from the department head, and when I asked about the chairs, he assured me that there were enough chairs to go around, but just that some rooms have more, and some have less, so often the students have to collect chairs from other rooms…he even made an analogy comparing the situation to the distribution of resources around the world, i.e. the wealth of resources we have in the U.S. as compared to the scarcity of resources in Malawi. Perhaps he was asking me to quit my whining. Point taken.

So, after the chair situation was sorted out, we had a fabulous lesson, and at the end of it, the students stood up on their desks, and shouted, “Oh, Jennifer, our Queen!” (a la “Dead Poets Society”) -- It was amazing. Ha ha, just kidding… had ya for a second there, though, didn’t I? ;-)

Actually, overall it didn’t go too badly. Like I may have mentioned before, they seem to be a typical group of college freshmen: most are relatively passive, but once the class got going, they seemed to get a little bit more involved, and didn’t seem to hate my group work too much. It looks like I’ll have to do more in-class pair and group work here, as the system doesn’t allow for very much out of class work, and this is primarily a writing class, so I need them to write. The good side of this is that I can also have them do a lot of peer review in class (which I introduced this morning), so hopefully that will take away some of the burden of marking (not to mention figuring out the grading system here—see Memento Monday post for details on that…)

All in all, I think the lesson went well. I’m not quite sure what the majority of the students think of me or my lessons yet, but they do seem to try to laugh at my attempts at humor (I told one student he sounded like Nelson Mandela today, hoping it would flatter him, but I’m afraid somehow it might’ve caused offense, as the other students laughed a little too vigorously at that comment… I may need to watch my attempts at comedy/ flattery…) A few students also stayed behind to have their work looked at and ask questions, and seemed appreciative of my assistance. I think this is overall a good, hard-working group. I’m sure adjusting to a 3rd teacher in one semester is not the easiest thing for them. Hopefully I can get them to stand on their desks and proclaim me their queen by the end of the term. HA! Fat chance.

After returning home from my fabulous lesson at around lunchtime(following a small fiasco with the transportation), I discovered that Deliwe’s cousin the woodworker was again waiting for me behind my house. OK, now I’m finally starting to wonder. I just said hello, and went inside to eat. Since Deliwe was not home at the time, and her cousin seemed to be chatting with Harold, the gardener, I thought maybe they were friends. After Deliwe came in, she explained to me that her cousin (his name escapes me, sorry) wanted to offer me this small box as re-payment for the extra 1,000 Kwacha (about $7) I gave him the day before (which to most Malawians is a good chunk of change). Yes, I did leave something out of my story yesterday. I actually “lent” him some money towards a future purchase, in addition to the money I paid for the items I had bought. Ya, I know… I’m a sucker (well, I prefer to think of myself as just too nice, but I do have a limit). But now I’m learning. I wasn’t really interested in the box he had brought, and when I went out back to let him know, he started to tell me about some other items he could make for me. I told him that I really could use some small, covered wooden bowls for salt and sugar, which he agreed to make. Some of the other items we had discussed yesterday, and I said I might be interested in those in the future.

Originally, we had agreed that he would come back on Friday to put together the table lamps I had bought (since I’d only purchased the lamp-posts), and at that time I’d look at what he had. Because of this, I wasn’t expecting him to return today, so when I saw him, I knew something was up. My friend Betsy and I had talked last night about the tendency of many craftsmen and salespeople at the markets here to use a “sob story” (as she put it) to get you to buy more things. Of course, yesterday’s purchase was the first time I’d experienced this, and since I had purchased items from this man once before, I guess I didn’t realize he might be lying. Again, the Pollyana side. He wouldn’t lie to me, would he? Ya, ya, amazingly, I still sometimes think this way, regardless of the cold, hard front I try to display at times, and the amount of traveling I’ve done. In any case, today when I told him I didn’t really need the box he’d brought, but that a couple of small covered bowls would interest me, he went on to tell me that he needed to borrow some money to buy a good piece of wood. At that point, I drew the line, telling him that I’d paid him a lot of money yesterday, and I really didn’t have much left, which was the truth.

I later told the whole story to Deliwe, and when she found out how much I paid for yesterday’s items, she admitted that she thinks he’s asking too much. Apparently he did the same with her when she first started working with me, assuming that she had a lot more money to spend as well. I’m not sure why she didn’t warn me about this, except that maybe she felt a responsibility to help out her cousin. I’m sure the loyalties can be split in such a case, as she and I are becoming friends, and to her (and most Malawians), I seem to be incredibly rich. In comparison to most Malawians, I suppose I am, but eventually I have to go back to the states to live, and let’s face it—the monetary demands of living in the U.S. are much greater than most other places (certainly here), so I need to save some of my money, at least. So, from now on, I’ll only shop the markets with Deliwe or Betsy. On my own, I’m simply too much of a pushover.

So, in the end, a lesson taught, a lesson learned. A good day in my book. Tuwonana Mawa! (I think I finally spelled it right!)

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Coleslaw 'n Tomatoes for Breakfast

Today, I had something very different for breakfast-coleslaw (well, actually shredded cabbage) and tomatoes. Sounds funny, I know, but it was actually not bad. I think Deliwe was trying to use some of the cabbage, as we seemed to have accumulated a large amount of it lately. She also made up for all those fresh vegetables by making me some lovely grease-laden, salty "chips" on the side (i.e. "french fries" to you bloody yanks out there...they're very popular here, as well as in Britain, where I believe I never ate them sober... but that's another story for another time...)

That was pretty much the highlight of my day today. It was a relatively uneventful day, though I did buy some interesting wooden carvings from Deliwe's cousin (again). You may remember my story of him last week, appearing suddenly at my door selling wooden candle-holders mysteriously the morning after I'd mentioned a need for some in the middle of a blackout the night before. Again, he appeared as I was coming home for lunch today, actually hanging around in my front yard waiting for my arrival so he could sell me some more stuff. Can you imagine? Back in the good ol' U.S., people have been shot for less. But, not here. It's peaceful, and people aren't so possessive about things like we Americans are. They share everything, walk through each other's yards, feed each other's dogs (especially in my case), and even feed each other's families (as I mentioned yesterday in the case of Sister Anastasia). It's a paradise for a bleeding-heart liberal like myself. Or just the Pollyanna in me that wants everyone to just bloody get along. Is that so wrong?

So, in addition to my other political and social leanings, I'm also a "sucker" for a good or maybe not-so-good bargain, that also allows me to help someone out. The gentleman selling the wooden items got me to buy a few more things than I'd planned on, as it turns out he was in the middle of settling a court case involving a burglary at his house... (o.k., so it's not all that ideallic after all). I didn't get all of the information, but it seems he tried to make a claim against the suspected burglars, but in order to do so, he had to pay a pretty large fee (court costs? I'm not sure). Anyway, he managed to convince me to buy more from him to help him pay the fee. Partially because he is Deliwe's cousin, and partially because I'm a bleeding heart, and in largest part partially because I like his work, I ended up buying about 5 more items than I'd planned to buy, plus paying a "deposit" on a future purchase. All in all, it cost me about $40 U.S., so even if it was more than others might pay for the same items, it's well within my means. For that amount, I bought two beautifully-carved wooden lamp-posts (which he'll assemble with wires, bulbs, and shades later this week), 2 smooth wooden bowls, a set of 2 candle holders with hippos carved into them, and another nicely-carved wooden bowl with a lid. I think it's a decent deal, and if he's taken me for a ride, Deliwe's got my back. She'll give 'im hell.

So, that's about all I have to share for now. If you're on my Christmas gift list (and if you're really nice to me), be sure to let me know what you'd like from Africa (especially if you like hand-carved wooden pieces). It's great, because I can shop from home with the actual artisan, rather than browsing the bloody internet, and having no idea whether what I'm getting is really what I wanted in the first place. Ya, this is definitely a better way to shop--The house call. Just hope I don't go broke!

Well, gotta go help Betsy give medicine to her dog Buster. He's the one who "prefers white people" as his owner puts it. It's a strange phenomenon. I think I mentioned before that this dog is owned by my next-door neighbor Mr. Gadzera, along with the other dog "Trigger," which is the dog I thought I'd adopted when I first came here. The basic difference between the two dogs is that Trigger just comes for a visit once in awhile, and is overall a healthy dog, while Buster is just in lousy shape, as he was staying with the American volunteer who was living in Betsy's house up until July. After he (Jeff) left to visit the U.S., no one fed nor took care of the dog, so he's in really bad shape. It seems he prefers to hang around white people, so if there are no white people around, he starves. He's not a very smart dog. We felt that since he's always hanging around us, and had been adopted previously by Jeff, we should take care of him. So tonight is de-worming and flea-powdering night. Aren't you jealous? Ya, I know. So is Trigger. Maybe he'll come to watch. Twonana mawa! (See ya tomorrow!)

Monday, September 24, 2007

'Memento' Monday

First of all, to all of you expecting free gin: I do have an excuse for failing to post yesterday. The power went out during the time I normally do my posting—SORRY! As it turns out, since I came here, the power has gone out almost every night at about 6:00 p.m., and it stays out for varying periods of time. On Saturday night, it was out for almost 3 hours, and was a major inconvenience, as it happened just before a scheduled special event, “The Principal’s Dinner,” honoring the latest graduates from the Distance Education Program here. The students are actually teachers in secondary schools all over the country who work towards higher-level teaching degrees from home, since they live and teach in distant villages where they do not have access to a college or university. The program is set up much like the old “correspondence courses” back in the day, in which the students come into the college for a couple of weeks to receive introduction in each module (subject), and then go off on their own to study the modules and write papers and assignments which they mail (yes, snail mail) to their instructors, who then mark them and send them back to the students. Yes, this was life before the internet… incredible, eh?

So, since it turns out that I have several stories to tell over several days, I’ve decided to do this Memento style. For those unfamiliar with the film Memento, it basically starts at the end and ends at the beginning… make sense? Well, don’t worry… neither will this post.

Today, I taught my first class in Malawi... Wow, it was interesting. I’d been to visit the class before, so at least they had some concept of me before, so I wasn’t entering as a complete stranger (though almost). They are a good group overall, but a bigger class than I’m used to teaching (about 36 students). However, by Malawian standards, it’s an extremely small class (they average at about 70-100 students here.) Although I think it went pretty well, I have 3 potential strikes against me: 1) I’m an outsider, 2) I’m the 3rd instructor they’ve had this term, and it’s only the middle of the term, and 3) I have no idea how the grading system works here… it’s VERY different from any other place I’ve taught, and of course they try to standardize it, so all grades I give will be submitted to a committee to make sure I’m not being too nice or too mean. My colleague Mr. Mbano tried to explain the system to me after noticing that the papers he gave me to grade (yes, he gave an assignment and then left the stack of papers for me to grade) had extremely inflated scores. You see, here, 40% is a passing grade, and 70% is “distinguished” (meaning outstanding). So, when grading a small assignment like that which I received from Mr. Mbano only worth 25 points, I couldn’t just take off a couple of points here and there, as the grades would be way too inflated. Instead, I’d have to take off a minimum of 7 points for any paper that was not perfect. In addition, I need to norm each grade against the entire class, since there is an expectation of a typical “bell curve,” with most students falling in the middle range, which here is only about 50%. Not only that, but when I do finish my grading, everything gets submitted to a committee which reviews all of my grades and lets me know whether everything looks acceptable. Then, if it’s o.k., it gets sent to another committee for further review. Ya, I know… sounds like fun, eh? I’m definitely not looking forward to that process.

Other than that, the class went relatively well. The students were overall responsive, though I think they resemble most typical college freshmen in that they’re mostly passive, and just a few are willing to offer comments and answer questions asked of the whole group. However, they did open up a bit more towards the end, and seemed like they didn’t mind my babbling too much. They even laughed at a couple of my attempts at humor, hopefully not just to be nice, but we shall see…

So, let’s see, we’re going backwards, right? So, since that was the big story of today, let me move on to yesterday. Actually, yesterday was the first full day I’ve had since arriving here during which I never left my house. The main reason for this was my need to finish marking the papers that Mr. Mbano left for me to grade. Though I considered marking them in the truck on the way back from Lilongwe last Friday, the bumpiness of the roads (along with my laziness) prevented me from doing so. So, in the end, I had about 26 papers to grade on Sunday (finished 10 of them on Saturday), and just as I got settled to do so at around noon, I received a knock on the door. To my surprise, when I went to answer it, there were two young boys standing there. It took me a moment, but then I remembered that they were two of the boys I met last week Sunday during my fabulous adventure on the trails beyond my neighborhood. One of them was the oldest boy in Lloyd Banda’s family. Ugh! I forgot his name again—starts with Ch--- (no it’s not Charlie), and the other boy’s (his friend's) name also starts with Ch— I need to bring my notes with me next time I write in this blog. In any case, they were both there, and once I recognized them, I invited them in for a chat. Of course, I then remembered that they asked me my house number when I met them a week ago, and of course I told them, never expecting them to actually come to visit, but there they were!

Now normally, such an unexpected visit is a welcome thing to a lonely foreigner in a new country, and it also was in this case, except for the fact that it was the first day since I’ve come here that I had actual work to do. Again, this would’ve been alright as well, but as I’ve found out, in Malawian culture, when a person comes over, or when you stop by to visit, even by chance, it is not uncommon to stay for quite awhile to chat, drink, eat, and be merry. Now, those out there who know me well also know that I love to do all those things: eat, drink, chat, be merry (not necessarily in that order), but this was a visit I wasn’t quite prepared for, as in the end, these boys stayed at my house for 3 hours! I showed them some of the pictures on my computer, starting with the ones I took last week when I met them. Eventually, they wanted to see other pictures from New York City, Japan, and the small town where I live in upstate New York. At some point while I was showing the pictures, I realized I had been a terrible host and had forgotten to offer them something to drink. At that point, all I had in my frig was this iced tea I’d started making a few days earlier, so I gave them some of that, and also some sugar to add. Like the young ladies who’d visited me the day before (yes, on Saturday I had a few girls I’d met on the trail come over. Remember Funny? It was her and her friend, and then a friend of Deliwe’s joined us as well.) In any case, they like their tea VERY sweet here (at least the kids do), and they added about 3 or 4 spoonfuls of sugar. Then, the older boy asked me if I had any biscuits to go along with the tea. “Oh, yes,” I said, so brought out this box of assorted crackers I had in the cupboard. Before I knew it, I was cleaning out my cupboards and refrigerator to feed these boys, as it turned out they’d walked to my house directly from church, and hadn’t had any lunch yet, so they were starving. In the end, I was able to scrape up enough food to satisfy 2 young boys (which is not easy... I'm childless, so what do I know?). On the menu, along with the sugar-laden tea and crackers: Peanut butter and Jelly sandwiches (yes, they love them here… and the peanut butter is made with real Malawi peanuts… the jam is from the Boabob tree… more on that later… my favorite tree here, but I don’t have a picture of one yet…), and bananas. That seemed to fill them up just fine, and I didn’t have to dig out the pots n pans to heat anything up… whew!

So, they ate, and drank, looked at pictures, and eventually the older boy asked if he could use my phone to call his aunt in Lilongwe, and then his father, and before I knew it, my phone was out of credits (all pre-paid phone cards here). So, then it was time to kick them out. No, not really. I was nice about it, but realized it was becoming too much, and kindly told them that I had to get back to my paper marking, and after some negotiation, they left.

Then, not 5 minutes passed by, and as I was getting ready to mark those papers, another knock came at my door. This time it was Pamela, one of the lovely girls next door on the Welcoming Committee. Remember the Welcoming Committee? If not, scroll down to my first posting, and you’ll find it in there somewhere. It’s also featured in one of my first photos towards the bottom of the page. In any case, she’s a lovely young lady, had some water (but no food… whew! I was running out!), and only stayed for about 20 minutes. Eventually, I got to my grading, debated whether to go to the office to start working on my blog, but thought I should keep focused on the papers. By the time I was ready to work on the blog, the power went out, and then it was too late to go out. So, there you have it…the full description of events that led to my eventual lapse in blog coverage. I didn’t realize how popular I was until this past weekend! Amazing… I’d been back in the States for about 2 years before leaving the country again, and I don’t think I had as many visitors there in those two years as I’ve had here in just 2 weeks! I must say in this sense I do feel much more at home here.

Add to the above that I went to visit my neighbors (where Pamela lives) just this evening to say hello, and they insisted on feeding me, despite the fact that I told them Deliwe had prepared dinner for me already. Of course, I had to stay, and was given a lovely meal of nSima (remember that? It’s the starchy meal made with milled maize flour), vegetables, and eggs. I then went home and ate some chicken and more nSima with Deliwe. So, it turns out that the food I provided yesterday came back to me (and then some) today. “Pay it forward” is not a concept to be taught here, it’s simply what people do. Given that my visit was not planned and the person feeding me was a Catholic nun who takes care of several children in her home, it’s quite amazing. And remarkable. And just cool.

Ok, So, back in time. Now for Saturday. Actually, you've already heard about Saturday afternoon, so now I'll tell you about Saturday evening and Saturday morning (Memento style, so in that order...). On Saturday evening, there was a special function planned at Domasi College, called the "Principal's Dinner." It was actually a recognition dinner for the newly-graduated (well, about to graduate) distance learners. Actually, I did mention this at the beginning of the posting. The most interesting part of it was that we had a blackout which started right before the event, and lasted almost until the end, with the lights returning at about 8:45 p.m., just before the end of the Principal's speech. Prior to that time, we hung around outside for awhile, trying to mingle a bit with people we couldn't see well in the dark, so that was interesting. I hung around with Betsy, another volunteer working here whom I wrote about in an earlier post. She and I have become pretty good friends already, which anyone reading this who has ever lived overseas will understand. You tend to become close with other "outsiders" quickly, especially while getting to know the new place. Ironically, though, after being on my own for the first weekend, I'm doing o.k., as evidenced by all the visitors "knocking me up" (he he, in the British sense, not the American... don't get too excited...)

So, in any case, we stood around in the dark, until candles were lit inside the dining hall, which was set up for hundreds of people (though I don't know the full number.) We then started off with a nice prayer (everything here starts and ends with a prayer, including meetings... At first, I thought this would be strange, but I kind of like it... could've used a few prayers at my last 2 jobs, just to help me survive the meetings, much less the entire day-- but I digress...). After that, it became somewhat chaotic, as we went up to wash our hands, but weren't sure whether to take food back or wait to be served (some were taking it, others weren't, so we were a bit confused). The food was quite good... Roasted chicken, rice, and green beans... simple, but satisfying. And in candlelight, so romantic, considering we were in a big hall with hundreds of people. We had a nice chat with Lazarus, a young lecturer in the Education Dept. who also owns a music production company in Zomba, which I hope to visit one day, as music recording (and anything musical) fascinates me. Eventually, the speeches started, and of course this was a challenge in a dark room full of hundreds of people. They did have one bright light that resembled one of those bug zappers, and shined it in the general direction of each person speaking, as well as using it to illuminate certain students who were receiving some type of recognition (though I don't know what type, since I couldn't hear a thing.) Somehow, the students could make out their names though (maybe through lip-reading??), and all went up to receive their awards without any apparent problems.

Later on there was a speech given by one of the officials, which appeared to be inspirational, but the hundreds of people were talking so I couldn't hear most of it, and no one seemed to be able to get people to quiet down. This mayhem ceased when the Principal, Mr. Chakwera, got up to speak, however. He's quite an imposing-looking man, and is one of those people who commands respect just by his presence, and without raising his voice. Amazingly, when he began to speak, everyone quieted down. Actually, he looks a lot like Edie Amin (sp??). If you don't know who that is, rent "The Last King of Scotland." starring Academy-Award actor Forrest Whitaker (one of the first Oscar Picks I would've chosen, as amazingly it was a movie I actually saw before the Oscars came out)-- 'Nuff said... in any case, I don't think he's quite as whacked as Mr. Amin was, but only time will tell...

By the way, on the power-outage thing. It's almost a daily occurrence. We had one Friday night, Saturday night, and Sunday night, all at around 6 p.m. Saturday's was the longest one so far, at almost 3 hours. Tonight-- so far, so good. Hope I didn't jinx it...

Eventually, the lights went on toward the end of Mr. Chakwera's speech, the tables were moved, the music came on, and people started to dance. Not just a few, but EVERYBODY. I was a little shy, so didn't get out there, but Betsy was right on it, jiggin' away. She's a brave soul. Even rides the mini-buses on an almost-daily basis. I've yet to bring myself to do it... my 3 fears all wrapped up in one-- small space, lotsa people crammed together, no air... AAAHH! Can't do it... hopefully won't, as by week's end, I should be drivin my own car (more later on that...)

OK, so now to Saturday morning. This was an interesting morning, as I had the opportunity to visit an orphanage just outside of the Domasi College Campus. I was given a tour along with Leah (the volunteer who works with the same program as Betsy... mentioned in an earlier post) by the director of the orphanage, whom we met at the "bottle store" the night before. What's a bottle store, you ask? Well, it's not a store that sells bottles. Actually, they do collect bottles, and then fill them with beer and soda, and sell them back to you. Remember the old returnable glass bottles that were pushed out of the U.S. market in the mid to late-80s when we started using those ridiculous plastic things that are plaguing our environment? Well, those have re-surfaced in the developing world, namely Mexico, China, and Malawi (in my experience, though I'm sure there are many more). In these countries, they still have a system in which you pay a deposit when you buy beer or soda in these bottles, and then receive the deposit back as an incentive when you return them. Great concept, eh? We used to do it. Now only a few select states do it. Luckily, I do live in one of them back home-- New York. Michigan is another one. And I think Delaware. In New York, you get money back for both plastic and glass bottles. It's a good thing. Maybe it'll go national someday. After this guy leaves office, perhaps.... but again, I digress.

So, we met Alfred, the orphanage director, while at the bottle store to pick up some beer (Betsy's idea... she's a bad influence on me. I never drank beer before I met her ;-) As it turned out, Alfred is Deliwe's uncle, though he described himself as her father. I later learned that she considers him her "2nd father", because her biological father died when she was quite young (about 13, I think), which is a common occurrence here, I'm afraid. Due to several diseases, primarily AIDS and Malaria, many children are left without parents, which is why this orphanage exists, as well as the tendency of people like Sister Anastasia (my next door neighbor who had me over for dinner this evening) to take in several children and care for them. I've also spoken with a few other colleagues who are caring for several nieces and nephews for the same reason. I'd like to think we'd do this for each other back home in similar circumstances, but clearly it is very difficult for people here. More on that another time.

Back to Alfred. The other sidenote is the fact that he's related to Deliwe. This is another common occurrence here. It is a small country village area, so people tend to know each other and often are related in some way, so it's a very tight-knit community. I eventually told Deliwe I met her "father" the night before, and she didn't even act very surprised about it. It seemed quite normal to her. I didn't confess where we met him until later, as I wasn't sure how hanging out at the "bottle store" might be perceived by a young woman like Deliwe. When Betsy and I told her last night, she seemed o.k. with it. I wonder what she really thinks, though... I'll keep you posted.

Did I digress again? Sorry. Anyway, Alfred invited Leah and I to visit the orphanage, called "Village to Village." It appears to be a country-wide project of community-based orphanages put together to help the kids who are orphaned due to the prevalence of AIDS-related deaths in the country. This is truly grassroots stuff, built from ground-up. The communities use their own resources-- buildings, land, food, volunteers, etc. to help feed, clothe, and educate these orphans in a self-contained small orphanage. I took a few pictures which are featured in this posting. I'm also hoping to return to do some small projects here, most likely related to English education, since this is a part of my duties as an English Language Fellow. However, I'd really like to help with some fund-raising and awareness in an effort to help build more resources for this project. Alfred was very kind in showing us around, and never directly asked for donations. I think this may be the Malawian way. Apart from a few beggars on the street, people don't tend to ask for help outright, but really seem to make an attempt to handle things on their own, with very limited resources. They are remarkable in this respect, as well as many others, obviously.

So, that should take care of both Saturday morning and Friday night. Now, on to Friday and Thursday. This was my trip to Lilongwe (3-4 hours drive from here). Actually, there are not too many stories to tell about this excursion, except that I did manage to purchase a vehicle with a lot of assistance from Pamela, the assistant to the Public Affairs Officer at the U.S. Embassy, who was kind enough to take a look at some vehicles for me. She narrowed it down to 3 vehicles within my price range, and even helped me to bargain the price down by about $300. The other good news is that I qualify for a duty-free purchase since I'm working for the U.S. Govt. (more payback on some of those taxes I've paid for awhile...). Things went relatively smoothly, since Pamela handled all the paperwork. We pretty much zipped in and out of offices (the visa office was interesting... not a computer in sight, just one guy working there with piles of papers lining the walls. It looked like your typical beaurocratic nightmare-- but it went quickly, so no complaints from me).

Then, once we got to the dealership (well, actually a small dirt lot surrounded by high red-brick walls), I chose a nice black Toyota Carina (which is something between a corolla and a camry), but I was too chicken to test-drive it because of the driving on the left side of the road, sitting on the right side of the car, and shifting with the left hand thing--yes, it's manual), so I got the driver who brought me to Lilongwe to drive it for me. His name is Salimane, and he really liked the car, so I said o.k. If he likes it, I like it, too. Hopefully, Salimane will be the driver chosen to take me back to Lilongwe to pick up the car, because in his words, it's his car, too. I couldn't have made the decision without him. So, after dealing with the bank transfer (involving typing up a letter to the bank and faxing it, yadda yadda yadda), it was all finished. Well, not all finished, I had to drop a couple wads of cash down for the registration, title, and insurance, which the dealer and my embassy friends will help me to process, since I can't be in Lilongwe to take care of those things this week.

With any luck, that teacher strike will happen, and I'll be able to pick up my car by week's end. If there is no strike, then I have to wait until Saturday. Oh, I'm evil, I know... hoping for a strike so I can go get my car. Well, just a Friday strike will do. I don't ask for too much, do I?

So, before too long, I should be terrorizing the locals with my gear-grinding backwards-American drivin' on the wrong side of the road ways. CAN'T WAIT!!

Until then, Mwaswela! Ah, this manuscript certainly makes up for that Sunday off, eh? Now, you should be all caught up, but backwards, inside out, and upside down. Just the way I like to leave my readers... they don't call it cyberspace for nutt'n... ;-) Bye for now!

Saturday, September 22, 2007

It's Saturday! 2nd week over--whew!

So, Saturday is here, and as usual, I have more stories to tell, but I still haven't had a chance to write about my trip to Lilongwe on Thursday and Friday. I actually hoped to write about that, as well as my latest stories today, though I have limited time due to an unexpected visit at my house this afternoon, as well as the fact that I need to attend the "Principal's Dinner" this evening, so I only have about 15 minutes to write today.

So, I've decided to just focus on my trip to Lilongwe in this post, and then tell more about last night (Friday) and today (Saturday) in my post tomorrow, as I believe tomorrow will be relatively uneventful, as I'll be spending most of the day marking papers I need to complete for the class I'm scheduled to begin teaching at Chancellor College on Monday-- that is, if they don't have a teacher's strike. Ya-- I just found out yesterday from the instructor whose course I'm taking over that the instructors at Chancellor College submitted a written "warning" (I'm not sure if that's what they call it, but basically that's what it is...) that they plan to begin a strike this week, which means the classes will be called off for this coming week, and quite possibly for the week after that as well. In a way, this is good news for me, since the time I had to spend dealing with the car purchase took me away from planning the course, so at least it looks like I'll have more time to do that now.

Actually, in terms of work, things have been pretty low-key so far, as both colleges are in breaks at the moment. So, I'm spending a lot of time just getting to know the place, meet people, and starting to plan the courses I'll teach (though I haven't done too much of the latter yet.)

Hmmm... It looks like I only have about 3 minutes to complete this post before I have to walk back to my house to get ready for this dinner. So, I guess I'll need to save my stories of Thursday, Friday, and today for tomorrow's post. Get ready for a long one, with new pix as well!

Also, for those of you expecting an e-mail update each time I post, keep in mind that as of now I'm not sure how to set up the "automatic e-mail notification" for my new posts. This means that you'll just need to come back to the blogsite now and then to check out the new posts. I am adding a new one each day, which is my plan until my last day here (again, physical presence and technology/electricity permitting), so if you can check it everyday, you should find something new each time. Cool, huh? I think so! By the end, perhaps I'll have enough material for that book I've always wanted to write... We shall see...

So, Tayewana mawa! (I think that's see you tomorrow... 'mawa' is definitely 'tomorrow', but I'm not sure if I got the first part right... I'll let you know 'mawa'! ;-)

Friday, September 21, 2007

TGIF!!

Hey, I'm back! Did you miss me? Did you notice I was gone? I hope all of you loyal readers (I think my count of 3 has increased to 5 or so now) used that "day off" to catch up on all my incessant ramblings of the past week.

Needless to say, I do have a lot to chronicle about my trip to Lilongwe to purchase my new (well, not so new, actually 1994) Toyota Celeron (or something like that... it's a "C" name, and I can't remember it, but it looks a lot like a Camry. My boyfriend will be proud). Of course, I don't have it with me now, as there's a fair bit of paperwork that has to be done, but hopefully by the end of next week, I'll be cruising the roads of Malawi on the wrong side of the car, as well as the wrong side of the road. Yup, it's a former British colony, so I get to figure out how to shift with the left hand. I've always said that's one thing I'd like to do before leaving this earth, and finally I'll get the chance, every day, for the next 9 months. Luckily, I do drive a manual back home, so I won't be as handicapped as the majority of Americans, except that I have to do it (shift, that is) in the opposite direction (outside to inside, instead of inside to outside... if you can drive a manual, you catch my drift...). Then, there's the problem of the side of the road... Thankfully, my driver Selemane (from Domasi College, assigned to drive me for this excursion) was kind enough to test-drive the car for me yesterday, so I didn't destroy the transmission prior to the purchase. He's a good man.

So, this truly will be a short post, as I'm very tired from my trip (Lilongwe is about a 4-hour drive from here), as well as hungry (it was one of those no-lunch days in Malawi. I'll explain that later. It's happened a few times since my arrival), so I'll give all the details of my last two days in my next post, complete with pictures!

Until then, Maswela!

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Wednesday woes...

Ah, yes, it finally happened. A not-so-happy day in Malawi. But don't worry, I'm o.k., and it wasn't anything major, just a bit of frustration with making an operator-assisted collect international call to my bank. It appears that no such thing exists here, as either the infrastructure is just not there to support it, or there have been problems with the receivers footin' the bill in the past. So, I need to make this post short, as I need to deal with this issue soon, and due to a power failure, I had to wait until late in the day to get online today.

The primary reason I needed to make this call was to have funds transferred from my "world's local bank" HSBC (my a@*, they are not as accommodating when one is overseas, unless you're in East Asia or Europe, apparently... be forewarned.) The back of my ATM card gives this lovely international number you can call "collect." However, after I found out that it's impossible to call collect from Malawi, I decided to call HSBC (after a fiasco trying to call them yesterday which drained the credits on my cell phone) and see if they'd call me back. After putting me on hold (resulting in loss of more credits), the woman came back on the line to tell me that they are not authorized to make return phone calls internationally. Perhaps they have good reasons, but the point I tried to make to her that collect calls are much more expensive than direct calls was apparently moot. So, after trying to get through on a landline through some staff here and finding the line consistently busy, I resigned myself to using the cellphone, which means going home and buying a billion 50-cent credits from the nice woman accross the road from me, and hoping it'll be enough to complete the transaction.

Why do I need to have this money transferred so urgently, you ask? Well, tomorrow I'm headed to Lilongwe to purchase a car. Once arriving here, I've realized that a car will be a necessity, not only because I'll need to commute almost daily to another college 20 mins. away, but also in order to travel around the area. You see, the only real public transportation is in the form of these so-called "mini-buses," which are really just 10-15 passenger vans, mostly imported from Japan and China, used to transport people between towns, often packed to the gills, and featuring daredevil drivers. If I had to endure this harrowing experience once a week, it might be an adventure. However, the idea of doing so every day is less than appealing, to put it mildly. Not only that, but I'd be faced with about a mile-long walk from the road to the college (Chancellor College in Zomba) each day. Not that I mind walking, but the fact that I'd have time constraints made a car purchase seem like a necessity.

Now, for the GOOD NEWS & BAD NEWS:

The good news is that I can find a reliable, used Japanese car here (Toyota's got a corner on the market here, which is a bonus for me--I'm a newly converted Toyota worshipper) for about $3,000-$5,000, and somehow it doesn't depreciate, so I should be able to sell it at the same price when I leave in June. The bad news is that I basically have to pay with a check from a local bank, and that's where my problem comes in with getting money wired here from my HSBC acct. They did mention some possible transfer through the internet, but I'm not sure how reliable that would be, so I'm trying to get this done, hoping I can make the transaction tomorrow.

Back to some good news. Apparently, the process of getting paperwork done (i.e. title, registration, insurance) is all handled through the dealer, so I don't have to deal with it on my own. The bad news is that I have to wait a good week for all of that to happen, and then pay someone to deliver the car to me (as I live about 4 hrs. drive south of Lilongwe.) Perhaps that'll give me enough time to get the money thing straightened out. So I guess that's some good news.

I'll just end with the good news, and leave it at that. Also, those lookin for the free bottle of gin: I will NOT be posting a new entry tomorrow, as I'll be out of town, and likely will not have internet access, so the offer will be null and void tomorrow (Thursday, Sept. 20). Have a great day!

On a sidenote, I did forget to mention exactly HOW Malawians eat in my last posting. They actually use their hands, scooping up really hot nsima and using it to pick up the other items (meat, vegetables). I'm now doing this part-time (one bite hands, the other bite fork), as usually the stuff is too hot for me to put my wimpy little nerve endings into (I guess here most people don't really have nerve endings in their fingertips), and I'm way too sloppy and just generally can't bring myself to eat non-finger foods with my fingers...well, not yet. I'm sure at some point I'll get the hang of it, as my boyfriend can attest... I'm a bit of a barbarian when it comes to eating. More on that later, hopefully with photo documentation! Bye for now! (Ya ya, I said it would be short... I'm a big fat liar, pants on fire..)

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Groovy Tuesday...

I just realized that I continue with these daily entries, coming up with funky titles to lure my readers in is going to become more and more challenging. But, since it's 9:42 p.m. on Tuesday night, and I plan to devote just 20 minutes to this in order to get home at a decent hour, "Groovy Tuesday" is the best I can do. I'll try better next time.

So, let's see. I realized last night after getting home that I left out an important detail about yesterday, so I'll start with that. I actually had my first meal at somebody's home yesterday, so that was a bit of a milestone for me. It was Sydney, the director of the Languages and Communications Dept. at Chancellor College in Zomba (the town 20 mins. drive from here). I needed to visit the college yesterday after my fun visit at the telephone office, so he kindly invited me to have lunch at his house with his wife and young son.

The house was very interesting. It was one of the big, white-washed adobe-style houses once owned by the old British colonials back in the day. Luckily, many upper-middle class professionals have the means to own these properties now. It was a beautiful estate, with a large carefully-landscaped garden area, complete with palm and papaya trees. In fact, Sydney admitted they had taken some trees out because the area was "getting too dark" due to an over-abundance of lush vegetation. The sheer variety of plant and tree life here is a paradise for botanists.

Inside, the house was nicely furnished and decorated, and the ceilings were incredibly high. The color scheme was interesting... primarily pastel, and reminiscent of some of the houses I'd seen in Mexico years ago. It's funny how the more I travel, the more similarities I notice between places that are oceans away.

The most interesting part of the meal, of course, was the food. We had a very typical Malawian meal of smoked fish, nSima (a cornmeal based porridge) and rape. Yes, that's right, rape. It's actually a green, leafy vegetable cooked in a manner very similar to collard greens. The fish was small (sorry, I can't remember the name), and of course, complete with heads and eyes and all. I stuck to the body portion of the fish, but I noticed Sydney and his wife ate a lot of the head, too, including the eyes. This is also common in China. Another parallel to another place very very far away, proving that the more things seem different, the more similar they become.

It was a very nice, very filling meal, and I felt honored to be kindly invited into Sydney's home on the mountain. Once I buy a car (hopefully starting with a trip to Lilongwe this Thursday), I plan to visit more of Zomba mountain, as it really is an amazing place.

As for today, it was mostly back to work. The good news is that I now have a lovely office space (which I think I mentioned yesterday), and today I figured out how to configure my computer to hook into the internet connection here so that I don't have to write all my blogs in the lab. I was actually kicked out of the lab last night, as it was after 10:00 p.m. (equivalent to about 2:00 a.m. U.S. time). I am almost positive that I was told several times last week that I could use the staff computer lab "at any time, day or night." However, last night, when I was finishing up my blog posting (putting all those pictures up takes the most time), the security supervisor came in to ask me to shut down, as the guards like to close the room at 10 p.m. So, I guess "anytime" ends at 10 p.m. here. People are very much early-to-bed-early-to-rise. Clearly, I'll have to adjust my nocturnal habits.

So, the best news is that I can now write at my liesure from my new office desk, without being disturbed.

In other good news for today:

--I was invited to join a team of instructors who will be observing student teachers in their classrooms in Lilongwe (the capital) for a week in late Oct./early Nov. I'm really excited about this, as I'll have the opportunity to experience different classroom environments, plus explore Lilongwe a bit more, and get to know some of my colleagues better in the process. The bad news is that I have to go to a marathon meeting tomorrow to discuss it, from 8:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m. (ugh... luckily, they're feeding us lunch in the middle of it...)

--I finally got to meet 2 of the other new U.S. volunteers working in the area, for a program called IFESH (Institute For Educational Somethin Happy)--- he he.. not sure about the last two words... too much information, runnin round my brain, too much information, drivin me insane! (only the "Police" fans 'll get that one...) I've got so many names and acronyms to learn, I just have to make 'em up now... Anyway, there are 2 women here: Betsy, who's also based here in Diomas, and Leah, who's based outside of Blantyre. They've been around since Friday, but we haven't been able to find each other until today... (probably because I was too busy wandering around the villages, river, and fisheries to be found by anyone...) We had a nice chat, and I think we'll get along really well. Leah's also really into outdoor adventures like hiking and camping, which is also my thing, so hopefully we can get some of our own little eco-tours together before too long. I imagine once I get a car, I'll be pretty popular with the isolated foreign volunteer contingent... That and my "winning personality" should get me far 'round here...

Oh, and last piece of info. I wanted to share is that my DOG is NOT my dog... I just found out today from Deliwe that the dog actually belongs to my next-door neighbor, who is also the guy in charge of the student-teacher observations... I was looking for my doggie after work today, and Deliwe told me they took him to get immunized. OH, the shock! I guess even dogs with owners tend to resemble strays here, considering the wounds he seems to have. Oh, well... He was hanging around my house when I came home later this evening after hanging around with Betsy and Leah, so I guess I can still pretend he's my dog. I think he just likes the eggs and milk I always give him. I thought he just loved me for me (ah, the story of my life...) I'll have to ask my neighbor (can't remember his name... aaah!) what to call him, since I'm sure he already has a name!

In the meantime, Betsy's very sick, very skinny dog Buster seems to be following me around, so perhaps I can nurse him back to health, and steal him from her. We'll see how that plan works out. He actually followed me to the office this evening, so maybe his loyalty has shifted. I just hope he makes it awhile, as he seems pretty sick these days.

OK, I'd better get back home... big meeting in the morning! Mwa Swela!

Monday, September 17, 2007

Monday, Monday...

Hello, again! Believe it or not, I'm pretty sure this posting will be significantly shorter than the others, but I'll try not to speak too soon, as it usually ends up being a lie. Today, I had to go back to "work," though things are pretty low-key at the moment, as both institutions at which I'll be teaching are in a break period-- meaning, no classes are in session, though staff still have to be there. Those teachers out there know the drill on that. It's the same worldwide, at least in my experience.

The good part of this is that since I'm still getting settled, this down-time gives me an opportunity to settle all the settling-in matters (have I used the word "settled" enough?). Today, it started with the phone line which I want to get connected at my house. You see, here, getting a phone line installed here takes a bit more time/effort than in the U.S. First, Mr. Banda (read below if you don't know who that is) had to give me this form to fill out, and then he took it to the special telephone connection office, where someone had to write some things and give it back to him. He then gave it back to me, with the instructions to go to Zomba (20 mins. away) to the Malawi Telecom office and pay a fee for the telephone hook-up. Today was the day we got to do that, since I was set to meet up with an instructor at Chancellor College in Zomba today, anyway. Luckily, when I called Sydney, the director, he told me he'd be in a meeting until 11:30 a.m., so that gave us time to take care of the phone line in the morning.

My experience with the phone line was similar to my experience at the bank last week (Did I mention that in my first posting? It was a good 3 hours, mostly waiting). Luckily, this took closer to just one hour. Mostly, it involved giving the woman at the office the piece of paper filled out by the other people at some other telephone hook-up office in Domasi. As soon as she looked at it, she scowled as apparently the people at that other office didn't fill in the right portion of the form. The good thing is that she didn't make us go back there to get it filled out, but called that other office and read them the riot act (in a pleasant, Chichewa sort-of way). Then, another woman sat down at the desk and said hello, but that was about all. She eventually gave me a printed form which I signed, and then told me to pay the fee (about $30) at another counter, and bring back the receipt. Of course, there were other people waiting, but I didn't know at first, because people here don't generally stand in line, but instead sit in chairs lined up along a back wall until they're called. I almost skipped a woman in line not realizing this, until I heard her make a loud sigh of exasperation. Because I tend to always be concerned about respecting the people around me, I picked up on it and quickly asked her if she was waiting in line, and she said she was. This is also something that's a bit different here. People will not tell you directly when you screw up... they just make a motion, gesture, or sound, so you have to pay attention to figure it out. Luckily my years in East Asia helped me to pick up on such cues, or maybe there would've been a brawl (not bloody likely...).

So, eventually my turn came, and I paid the fee, then had to bring the receipt to the woman, who did a bit more paperwork. Then I had to buy the phone. Remember those days when we all bought phones from the phone company? Well, they're still doing that here. You can buy them elsewhere, but apparently they're not as reliable, at least according to Mr. Banda, and well, he's the man, so I took his word for it. Once I chose a phone (from 2 possible models), I was given another piece of paper by the woman, and sent to the payment line (of chairs against the wall) again. While sitting there, a nice old catholic nun walked in, and did exactly what I did the first time. She stood in line behind the person being served. At first, I thought maybe religious people enjoyed special privileges here, and even though it was my turn, I didn't dare confront her, as I wanted to respect her position. But no, as soon as the person in front of her was finished paying, the cashier told her she had to sit down, and motioned to me to come up to the window. So, I guess my earlier mistake was not so terrible, as even a local Catholic nun made the same mistake. I hope I don't go to Hell for not letting her go in front of me (though I did make a gesture to do so, so I think I'm covered...)

So, then I made the payment, went back to the same woman again with the receipt, and got my new phone. Yes, lots of steps. Again, some of my other experiences helped to prepare me for that, so I didn't get all bent out of shape like many typical Americans might (now, don't get offended... you KNOW what I'm talking about). Luckily, I didn't have to be anywhere in a hurry, anyway, and generally people are pretty laid-back here, so the stress of the rush is almost non-existent. (As a sidenote, I still may not see a phone line at my house for a good 2 weeks... I'll keep ya posted).

So, for today, that's the most interesting story I've got. Some other tidbits:

--Had my first public toilet experience... a bit better than China, a bit worse than Mexico, and thank God I remembered my little pack of Kleenex.

--Did a bit more shopping with Mr. Banda. It went a bit smoother this time, as we both had a better idea of where to go. My favorite shop now is owned by a nice Indian man who actually grew up in Domasi. He's always friendly and gives me a good price. I bought an electric teapot from him.

--Got an office space set up at both Chancellor College and Domasi College of Education. I also received some papers to grade for the course I'm taking over at Chancellor College next week. Let the games begin!

--Met a very nice man named Mark who is Malawian, but lives in the U.S., and is here on a project with Richmond University in Virginia (if I remember correctly). He's the first person I've ever met with a PhD in Physical Education. I really didn't know those existed. He did confess that he's the only Malawian who has one. I was tempted to ask whether he was the only person in the world who has one, but I'll save that question for later. In any case, he's a very friendly and interesting guy, has lived everywhere, speaks 5 languages fluently, and invited me to join an aerobics club in Zomba. I'm not big into aerobics, but I think I'm gonna try. Maybe I'll be more coordinated in Malawian aerobics, plus I'll meet a few fun people and manage to get back into decent shape, with any luck.

So, that's my day in a nutshell. Is it shorter than the other ones? It's gotta be! I'll let you do the word count. 'Mwaswela' for now! (i.e. 'Good evening'!)

***DISCLAIMER TO MY EARLIER POST PROMISING GIN: I realized that my promise to write every day requires a disclaimer stating that I will post to this site every day, internet access and physical presence permitting. On days that I cannot post due to power failures or problems with internet connectivity, I will make a statement clarifying those issues as soon as possible. In the event that I will not have access to the internet due to physical location (i.e. being away from my office/home, as I will be this coming Thursday, I will state this prior to the day on which I cannot post. In this event, I am not obligated to the FREE BOTTLE OF GIN offer previously advertised in my post on Sept. 16. Thanks for your understanding of this matter. Keep on reading, though! ;-)***

Sunday, September 16, 2007

The second week commences...

OK, so I promised my "loyal readers" (all 3 of them so far, if I'm counting right) that I'd try to add something to this blog each day, so in the effort to avoid making empty promises, here I go. We'll see how long I can keep it up. If I miss a day, I'll buy anyone who notices a nice bottle of Malawi Gin. Here's the catch. You have to notice it ON THE DAY that I fail to post. After that, tough luck. Hmmm... perhaps I've missed the mark on my career choice. This could be an excellent marketing tool to build readership! Too bad I'm doing this for free... but I digress (already!-- a record... even for me!)

So, today began rather uneventfully, with me requesting to take a photo of Deliwe (my fabulous housekeeper/cook) as she was cooking some fried potatoes for breakfast. She was a bit concerned, as she was in her "morning clothes." It turns out that she likes to change clothes from morning to afternoon. I guess these clothes were not very presentable, but they looked just fine to me, as when I took the picture, I was in a pair of boxer-type pajama shorts and a t-shirt. I later took another picture of her in her more suitable clothes. I'll let you, the reader, be the judge. Does either outfit look shabby at all? Clearly this young woman takes much more pride in her appearance than I. Perhaps I should re-evaluate (note my outfit in later photo... I'm guessing Daliwe wouldn't be caught dead in it...)

After breakfast, Daliwe cleaned up, changed clothes, and left me all alone. Luckily, my trusty dog (for now still nameless, but I'm workin on it) was laying out in the backyard, so I went to greet him, as I usually do. He seemed somewhat happy to see me. It's usually hard to tell how he feels, as he's overall pretty lethargic-- he's really got the dog's life... good by many dogs' standards, as they all run free, but hard in the sense that it appears they have to fight to survive. Every night, I hear what sounds like a dog party, complete with barking, howling, and running around the 'hood. However, the party quickly turns into a brawl, with some dogs growling, while others are yelping. My doggie has come around with some apparent war wounds. The other day, it was a small sore on his leg, which he allowed me to clean with some of that "Purell" stuff (incidentally, I never use the stuff-- I think that's why I never get sick... too much sanitation causes a weak immune system, I always say...and yes, I do pick things up off the floor and eat them from time to time... even here. So far, so good...I'll keep ya posted.). I then put some Neosporin with pain relief on it. A woman walked by my house as I was doing this, and I swear she was thinking, "What is up with these white people, anyway?" So, this morning, my dog's ears were looking pretty chewed up as well. They've always been a bit like that along the outside edges, but today there was some blood, so I tried to do the same thing (with the Purell and Neosporin), but after the Purell on the right ear, he wanted no more of that, rubbed his ears into the dirt and took off. I guess he's been taking the Jennifer course on staying healthy. Just rub it in some dirt, that'll take care of it. More on my doggie later.

So, after being rejected by my dog, I decided to take a quick shower and head out onto the trails once more to see what adventures awaited me. Amazingly, my walk today was even more eventful than yesterday. I'd heard from my best Malawian friend Mr. Banda that there was a small market in the area where I bumped into him yesterday, so I decided to check it out. On my way, I saw a couple of cute small children (ya, they're everywhere, and they're all cute!). So, I decided to stop and talk to them. Their mother was also outside, and came over for a quick chat. Of course, it didn't take long before I asked them if I could take their picture. As usual, they enthusiastically agreed. Then, as soon as the camera came out, it happened. Little by little, children started appearing from every corner of the wilderness. I have no idea where they were or how they saw us, but they just appeared. Needless to say, I became the hapless victim of their cute little faces, and took several pictures of them, as they tried to outdo themselves with goofy poses. They followed me for awhile, and posed for every shot, as I tried to take a picture of the mother at her small fruit/vegetable stand (incidentally, many women here start their own small businesses this way, and often do quite well, even in remote areas), and later as I took pictures at the local mosque I visited yesterday. In fact, I saw those kids again at the end of my walk a few hours later. They really are everywhere, and certainly know how/where to find me.

As I just mentioned, my little walk ended several hours later. How, you ask? Well, this is Malawi, and I think this is how it works, at least for me. You see, I just thought I'd explore a bit more of the area around where I live, so I found this rather empty path, and followed it down toward some houses, and eventually was spotted by a few kids who came out to say hello. After a bit of chatting in English and (very little) Chichewa, I ask for a picture. Of course, they agree, and then want me to take several pictures. As we're standing there, a couple of older boys (about 13 or 14 years old) wander towards us, and start asking me more questions about myself, of course, very curious about what I'm doing in their little village. They then ask where I'm headed, so I point down one of the trails. "Oh, don't go that way," says one kid. "Why not?" I ask. "There's nothing there. This way's much better." Again, I ask, "Why?" "Because the river is this way," "Oh, which river?" I ask, "The Domasi River." "I didn't know there was a river here. Can you show me?" Of course, they all agree to take me to the river, and from there, I am officially captive to about 5 young boys, ranging in age from about 7 to about 13 years. Of course, as we're walking along, we pick up a few more kids along the way who are also curious about this strange white woman walking around with all these local kids. And that's how it happens. At least in Malawi. At least for me.

So, this lovely group of boys takes me down to the river, where we see some kids swimming, splashing, and making a bunch of noise. Again, I take out my camera (of course!). Then, of course, you can guess what happens. Almost EVERY kid in the river starts to show off for the camera. Eventually, they all come out of the river to pose for a closer shot, and fight tooth and nail to see the resulting picture. When they start to push and shove each other, my "teacher" instinct kicks in, "No pushing!" I say, forgetting that many of them either can't understand my English, or can't be bothered to pay attention, as they're just too excited about the mere prospect of seeing their image on the small digital screen. All in all, they're pretty civil for a big group of wet kids. Ironically, the group that met me earlier on the trail (especially the older boys) begin to act as my bodyguards, urging the crowd to step back, and let me move on. The "leader" of the group turns out to be rather bossy with me, saying "let's move, let's move." I wasn't sure at first how to take this, but realize it's likely just a combination of age, language barrier, and culture gap, and agree to follow.

This boy (unfortunately his name escapes me, as I'm still struggling with the pronunciation of Chichewa names) insists that I go across the river to see his house and meet his family. So, of course I agree, and my little entourage of boys follows in tow. After crossing the bridge, we come to the house, which is built right along a drainage ditch. Yes, that's right. An actual drainage which had been dug back in the early 1960's to divert water to a fish hatchery up-river (as I would soon find out from the boy's father Lloyd ). So, this proves that such drainages have been developed in Malawi. The mystery is why more of them do not exist, as they are not difficult nor expensive to engineer, and could do a great deal to bring this very lush, abundant nation out of extreme poverty (as my pictures of banana trees, sugar cane, papayas, and huge bamboo groves growing naturally can attest). I do plan to delve further into this issue in the future.

Back to my story. So, the first person we come across is Lloyd (that's right, Lloyd), the patriarch of the family. To my pleasant surprise, Lloyd is propped on a rock in the middle of the drainage stream, washing a pair of pants. The possible environmental impact aside (let's face it-- we're doing WAY much more damage in the U.S. than we can possibly imagine here), it was so nice to see a man doing this type of work. I can barely get my boyfriend to run the washer on a weekend, never mind sitting in a river and scrubbing his own jeans on a rock. This is a truly enlightened man, who certainly dispelled many of my prior assumptions about men in Africa based on things I'd read and/or heard in the past. In fact, Lloyd told me later that he is teaching all of his children (three boys and one daughter) that it is important to help around the house. He assured me that all of them know how to cook, clean, and do all household chores. What a concept. Do any U.S. kids do that anymore? Just an assumption, but it seems "household chores" are no longer what they used to be where I come from.

Of course, the young man encouraged me to take pictures of his family in front of the house, then escorted me to their very large garden across the small drainage stream. Wow, what a garden! It was a borderline plantation by my standards. They had everything from tomatoes, to beans, to corn, to bananas, to sugarcane, to papayas, all irrigated via the small diversion stream. It was something else. This small example shows what a little water diversion can do. Imagine the impact this would have across the nation. I'd like to spearhead such a project myself. (Jason, and/or Missy, if you're reading this, perhaps you know of a good contact in New Mexico I could consult? That place is King when it comes to river-diversion irrigation).

So, after the tour of the amazing garden, Lloyd offered to escort me to the Domasi Fish Hatchery just down the road apiece (Heather, that's for you... still with me?), where we observed amazing bird life above all else. There were Blue Herons, Pink-bellied Pelicans, these hammer-head looking birds (with a similar name, I believe), and these white birds that looked like Egrets, though I think they also have a different name here. Of course, the directors of the hatchery loath the presence of the birds, as they're drawn there by the easy fishing... so a bit of a conflict of interest, clearly. However, the place seems to be doing well, and is part of a worldwide effort -- the World Fish Council, I believe, is the funding body. You know the old expression... "Give a man fish, he'll eat for a day, but teach him to fish, and he'll never go hungry." (Did I get it right? I'm lousy at quotes-- much more fun to make up my own.) They operate on this basic belief, and it seems to be going quite well, as they've enabled several local farmers to start their own fish ponds, raising and selling their own fish.

So, after a bit of walking with Lloyd back through the Malawi Institute of Education (which is where he works-- more on that another day), I headed home, tired, thirsty and very hungry, but very pleased and satisfied with how my day turned out. Oh, and the good news. My doggie came back. He actually followed me from the house across the street, where I was buying phone cards to add credit to my cellphone. Good dog. He got his lacto-ovo fix, and curled up under the amazing tree with the purple blossoms (God, I'm bloody awful with names, as I can't remember the name of that tree either!!). Well, I've gotta save something for future posts, so that should be it for now. Hope you're still with Me 'n Malawi! (or was it Malawi 'n Me? ;-)

Saturday, September 15, 2007

My first week in Malawi

Today marks the last day of my first week in Malawi, and what a week it has been! I started in Lilongwe, the capital city. While there, I stayed in a Safari camp for a night before meeting with Embassy staff and travelling on to my new home, Domasi. For those unfamiliar with the idea of a Safari Camp, it's basically a rustic youth hostel set up to look like the kind of place you might stay if you were on a safari. This one might be considered very rustic by many people's standards (especially those accustomed to 5-star hotels, which luckily I'm not). It has a small lobby/lounge/bar area, and several small hut-like cabins with thatched roofs, complete with a mosquito-net covered bed, and electricity, but no T.V. and no phone (oh, the horror!). Though I have stayed in similar accommodations before, I was a bit shocked at first, only because I was there on business, and knew I'd have to "primp" to look presentable in the morning. The shared bathroom accommodations were equally rustic, though there was hot water available. The short hike to the toilet at 3 a.m. and to the shower at 6 a.m. were probably the greatest inconveniences I faced.

The best part of staying in this place, however, was the friendly atmosphere. Because it is so low-key, and owned by a young British ex-pat couple (Yes, the Brits, like the Americans, tend to be much friendlier when overseas), people tend to be friendlier than in most 3-5 star hotels. So, in the end, I managed to meet 2 lovely British women (almost ex-pats) who invited me out to see a "jazz" band (which was really more of a reggae/pop/African music band). We were picked up by a lovely woman from the Netherlands with a perfect British English accent in a white Toyota truck-- which, apparently, is the most popular vehicle in Malawi-- model, color, and all. Toyotas rule in Malawi. They love them here. Back to the story. So, we drove to the small club hosting the afternoon jazz band, as my new companions sang the praises of Malawi. All three of them had been here for at least several months, and all of them really loved it. Julie and Liz, the two women staying at the safari camp, were leaving within the next couple of days, and were visibly depressed about it. So, it seemed to me I'd come to the right place. We had a lovely afternoon and evening, sipping gin and tonics (I'll have to pick up some of the famous Malawi Gin for my sister's Christmas present... oops, not a surprise now). I'm not a big gin connisseur (sp?), but wow, it was good stuff. Eventually we got dancing (maybe it was the gin?), and several locals came up to join us, even though we were probably doing the "white-girl's overbite."

Our night of Jazz, gin, and jiggin' ended with a pizza dinner at a rather upscale western restaurant. Luckily I've lived in enough developing countries to know this evening wasn't typical, but still it was a very enjoyable first night in the country, and I made a few new friends that hopefully I'll meet again someday.

The following morning, the driver for the Embassy picked me up at 7:05 a.m. (exactly 25 mins. early). I was soon to find out that Malawians are early to bed, early to rise types. They almost literally rise and fall with the sun. The days here are relatively short, with the sun rising at about 6 a.m. and setting at 6 p.m., all year round. Most Malawians are in bed by about 9 p.m. and up by about 5 a.m. I asked Mr. Banda (whom you'll hear more about later) about this phenomenon today, and he told me that they get up early "to sweep around the outside of the house." The girl I met today named Funny said the same thing. She gets up at 5 a.m. to sweep as well. So far, I haven't found out why the sweeping must be done at this hour, but when I discover the secret, I'll be sure to post it here.

So, I digressed. My trip to the embassy was relatively uneventful. I had about a 10-minute security briefing during which I learned that Malawi is basically a safe place, and just to be aware of pick-pocketers when in the city, not to walk alone at night if it can be avoided, and general things one needs to do in any city just about anywhere (except perhaps South Korea, where I never felt unsafe.). We then did a little bit of shopping for household necessities, got some pizza for the road, and were off to Domasi and Zomba, about 4 hours' drive south of Lilongwe. I'll be working in both places, but living in Domasi. Zomba is the former capital of Malawi, and is a relatively developed town by Malawian standards. While driving through the countryside, I noticed what I imagined to be typical of this country. We passed many small villages where people lived in thatched roof houses and huts, and seemed to survive by subsistence farming. It is quite a poor country, but ironically, as pointed out by Pamela, my main contact at the embassy, the people here rely almost exclusively on rainfall to irrigate their crops. This is ironic because unlike many African nations, about 20 percent of this country is covered by surface water; of course the biggest being Lake Malawi, with 2 smaller lakes, Lake Chilwa, and Lake Malombe, as well as the Shire River (pronounced in the Chichewa "Shi-ray," not the English "shire" like in Worcestershire or Gloucestershire... am I losing focus? Sorry, I do that sometimes...). In any case, for some reason the people/governments/organizations here have not managed to create better systems for irrigation to improve the year-round cultivation of crops and prevent starvation here during the dry season (June-Sept.).

While driving through the country, I of course had an excellent opportunity to view the countryside, mountains, villages, river, and roadside markets. They do things here the way we used to do them in the U.S., as well as the way some eco-conscious movements are urging us to do them. If you've ever heard or seen the slogan "buy local," especially in reference to produce and meat products in your region, you know what I'm talking about. Here, that's how it's done. Buying produce and, largely, meat, from the supermarket is considered insanity here, as it usually isn't very fresh, nutritious, or tasty. Of course, this reminded me of growing up in Wisconsin and going out to the farms to buy produce and eggs with my Dad, as well as helping him grow vegetables in the garden during the summer. How I've missed those fresh vegetables over the years. Now, I eat them regularly. Organic? Forget it! It's a given here.

We spent the first night (Monday, Sept. 10) in Zomba, in the American Embassy Cottage. Yeah, that's right. This is where a good chunk of our tax money goes. Some U.S. diplomat at some point saw this beautiful mountain overlooking the Zomba Plateau and said, "Hey, why don't we build ourselves a nice little getaway? We've got some extra tax money, eh?" (no, that was the Canadian guy)... er, "We've got some extra tax revenues to spend, right? Let's do it!" So now, there's this beautiful 3-bedroom cottage on top of the mountain with all the amenities (plumbing, electricity, fireplace, outdoor BBQ pit, but amazingly no T.V.) , overlooking the Zomba reservoir/dam, and you and I are paying for it! Well, I'm not so mad about it, since at least I got to stay in it for a night. But I do feel badly for the rest of the hard-working tax-paying Americans out there. Oh, well, at least you've got free public education, decent roads, dependable electricity (I've experienced 2 blackouts this past week--2-3 hours each), and politicians who are looking out for your every need, so stop whining, willya? (Hmmm... I wonder how many will continue reading this now. Come back! It's just a joke! Lighten up!)

OK, so now on to Tuesday, Sept. 11 (OK, so now I feel a little bad about that joke). After driving down Zomba Mountain, we went to visit the officials at Chancellor College, which is one of the institutions at which I'll be working (The other is Domasi College of Education). The visit was relatively uneventful, as I met with the head of the Languages and Communications Dept. briefly to talk about a class I'll be helping to teach, titled "Language and Communication Skills," which is a required course for all Freshman entering the college. In some ways, it's similar to a Freshman Composition Course in the U.S. Mr. Kankuzi (the director) gave me the syllabus, we discussed it a bit, and set an appt. to meet with the current instructor the following day at 9 a.m. (luckily, not at 7:30 a.m. which is when the typical workday starts here).

We then went on to Domasi College of Education , about 20 mins. drive away, and I met with the Principal and Deputy Principal, and got to see my house. I was very excited and also nervous about that, as I wasn't sure exactly what to expect. In the end, I was pleasantly surprised, especially by the size and the beauty of the surroundings. The house is quite big (3 bedrooms), made of brick, and very nicely landscaped with flowers and trees. The back yard is also quite big, with a thatch-fenced space for a vegetable garden (Yahoo!). I also live on campus, and all of my neighbors are staff at the college, so it's a nice, friendly, safe community. In fact, I can honestly say it's one of the nicest neighborhoods I've ever lived in, both in terms of aesthetic beauty, as well as friendly, caring neighbors (wow, what a concept... In the U.S., I rarely even knew my neighbors' first names). In fact, on that first night, 3 young girls, 2 of which lived next door came over to welcome me. They saw me outside treating my mosquito net (yes, everyone uses them here-- Malaria is a serious problem--luckily, I've got drugs, but most people here do not.), and waved to me and said hello. Of course, I did the same back to them, and then went inside to get something. Immediately, I heard children chattering loudly outside my window, and sure enoough, there they were, waiting to greet me outside my back door. We had a very nice, friendly conversation in which they tried to teach me some Chichewa (the local, official language along with English), though I didn't really learn anything until a few days later. They were very sweet girls, and were later joined by several other younger children. Of course, I had to do the typical new foreigner thing and get a picture. I told them that they were my "welcoming committee," and taught them to say "cheese" as I took the picture, which they did with great enthusiasm.

So, my first evening in Domasi was quite unique compared to most other overseas first-nights. I'm usually all alone and don't meet anyone, spend a lot of time asking myself what I've done, often involving some sort of blubbering, tears, depression, what have you. But this time, that didn't happen. I really felt o.k. Besides missing certain special people that I left back home, I was generally o.k. here. Ironically, I thought this might be the most difficult overseas living experiences I'd ever had, but it's turned out to be just the opposite. Ironies abound here, so I've seen.

The next day was a bit more riddled with the inconveniences of adjusting to life in a developing country. I was picked up at 9 a.m. (late morning by Malawian standards) by Zonda, one of the teachers at Chancellor College, who took me to Zomba to observe his Language and Communications course, which is the one I'll be taking over a week from this coming Monday. He was very kind, and a published poet, as I found out when I happened to notice a book of his poetry sitting on the seat (strategically placed, perhaps?). He kindly let me borrow it, and I've been reading it before bed every night. It's actually quite good, especially for me, as if I read any poetry, I prefer that which focuses on the natural environment, and his does. It's given me more insight into the weather, animals, plants, and other natural features of this land (Oops, did I digress again? Sorry.) In any case, I observed his class, mostly taught in a lecture format, though he has quite an interesting, relaxed, but humorous style which most students seemed to appreciate. The class is miniscule by Malawian standards, with only about 40 students (they usually have upwards of 100 students per class). It appears they took some pity on me by assuring me a smaller class size. These people are fabulous! Though the students came in with a lot of energy and seemed like they might not be as attentive at first, they quickly changed their tune once he began the lecture, and really seemed to focus and hang on his every word. I was a bit concerned at first because I normally don't teach using a lecture format, but later in the lesson he did give the students an activity for practice, which they immediately began working on without too much trouble. I had the opportunity to circulate and assist a few of the groups as well, and they seemed to be very appreciative and respectful, as well as hard-working. I'm assured that this is a particularly committed class, so I'm hopeful that this classroom dynamic will continue once I take over. Only time will tell. I'll keep you "posted."

Wednesday afternoon was especially interesting, as Zonda dropped me off in the center of town, where I met with Mr. Banda, who is the man responsible for all of my basic needs, primarily housing, transportation, and security. I had actually met Mr. Banda the previous day when I moved into my house, when we also found out my water had not yet been turned on, and the place needed some serious cleaning, especially the kitchen. I'll spare the details, but let's just say that a certain amount of rodent excrement gracing the top of the woodburning stove (which, thankfully, I don't plan to use at all) was enough to spur a serious outbreak of hantavirus throughout the southern region of Africa. Consequently, Mr. Banda had to arrange for the water activation (a very drawn out process of which I'll spare the details, except to say that it involved a 4-wheel drive excursion to the water treatment plant through a small village where cars were a novelty based on the locals' reactions as we drove past). Once the water was turned on, the cleaning crew was sent in to attack the rat excrement (so far, no sign of rodents...I'm watching and listening, though... I'll keep you "posted"). As a sidenote, the cleaning crew was all male, and I'm told that many privately-hired cooks here are also male, which was a refreshing realization, and another irony to add to my list.

O.K., so back to Wednesday. We spent the first 2 hours of the afternoon at the bank. Basically, opening a local bank acct. takes some time here. Many locals also seemed to wait for awhile. Eventually, we got it done, but I later received a call on my cellphone asking that I have my bank write a letter to the National Bank of Malawi assuring that I had enough funds to cover the personal check I wrote to open the account. I asked that they just wait for the check to clear, as that likely would take less time than having my bank write a letter to them. They reluctantly agreed. I now think it might've made more sense to just handle my banking internationally from home, since I'm being paid into that bank acct. anyway, I have internet banking privileges, and the fee for international ATM withdrawals here is only $1 (amazingly). Hmmm... Maybe I'll just go back on Monday and close it. I'll have to clear that with Mr. Banda first. He's the man (see picture at left for details).

After the banking fun, we went to the market to pick up some basic items I needed for my house, and some food, since most of the food I bought the previous day was in cans (due to lack of a frig which was delivered later), and I didn't think to buy a can opener. Luckily, I did buy some eggs and rice, so that was dinner and breakfast. MMM... those days of subsistence on fried eggs and rice in China have prepared me for anything and everything! Now, this was where the "I'm really living in a developing country" bells finally went off (no, we don't say 3rd World anymore--I was corrected on that recently, so be aware). I needed basic things like, well, a can opener. I thought I could find one of those things, you know, like we have in the states, with the 2 round blades and the crank, and it clamps on the side of the can. Nope. Here, you can only find those ones that have the triangular blade (usually used to open juice cans), and then there was this other one with an interesting shape, that I thought might be better, so I bought it. Needless to say, later that night, I struggled for awhile to get that canned fish open. Let's just say there was a lot of bashing and bending going.

Shopping in Malawi is unlike anywhere else I've lived. Well, at least in Zomba. The store that had the most items also was missing many things. This is a store called "PEP," based in South Africa (where most things are imported from... in fact, just about EVERYTHING in Malawi is imported). For example, they sell duvets, but not pillows. They sell forks and spoons, but not butter knives. They sell plastic food storage containers, but not ice trays. They sell sharp cutting knives, but not scissors. When we couldn't find these items, we decided to go to the market. Nope. None of them were there, though I did find some interesting 80-year old metal scissors. So far they seem to work o.k., though I haven't tried anything intricate like paper snowflakes. I'll keep you "posted."

As for food, we had better luck in that department. This is likely because I'm generally easy to please when it comes to food. What's good (and somewhat bad for lazy people like me) here is that you cannot find many processed or pre-made foods here. You have to be willing to cook, and plan meals to some degree. You also have to be willing to go to the market and visit several vendors for several items: One guy for tomatoes, another lady for potatoes, someone else for onions, and someone else for beans. That's just how it works. It's hard work. It's a full-time job, which is why most married women stay home and do the full-time job of managing the household (starting with sweeping at 5 a.m. and ending with the evening meal for which she walked several miles to the market to haggle with 20 people for different vegetables, and then came home to hand-wash the clothes, cook the meal, clean up, all while taking care of the kids... you get the drift). Oh, but there is another way. Working women have help. The housekeeper/cook (sometimes one person, sometimes 2). Guess what? I got one, too! Now, this wasn't easy for me, as I was not raised in a culture of servitude. However, in hiring this young woman, I saw the opportunity to help her out. You see, she needs to save money to go back to school, and in working for me, she can actually manage to do that. In addition, she lives in a small, thatched roof hut with her mother and her younger brother. She's 19 years old, and wants to have more independence. I'm also living alone in this big house. So, why not hire her and let her live with me? So, starting on Friday, she began working for me. She's also taught me more Chichewa expressions, and now I can finally remember some of them (MuliBwangi= How are you? MaSwelaBuangi =good afternoon/evening Zikomo= thank you-- and no, I'm not using notes!)

So, it's really a wonderful set-up. She gets a nice place to live and enough money to go to school, and I have someone to stay with me and help me around the house. I still do take care of a lot of things, as I can't stand having someone do everything, but it is nice to have her around. Her name is Deliwe, and I plan to add her picture here in my next post. I also hired a gardener who will start on Monday, but I plan to help him out a lot (if he'll let me), because I prefer gardening to housework any day, and I want to learn more about the amazing plants here. He's also agreed to do a vegetable garden, so we won't have to go to the market and haggle as often.

So, I think this brings me to today. Today, I really didn't have anything to do. I gave Deliwe the day off, and after she went, I decided to take a walk in the area outside of the campus neighborhood. At the edge of the campus, there are many small trails, mostly used by people walking from the villages to the campus. I decided to explore those today. As I was walking, I met a young girl coming back from the library at Domasi Secondary Demonstration School, which is just up the road from Domasi College. She was very sweet, and told me her name was Funny. I thought that was funny, but that's her name, so I tried not to laugh. She told me that she has her big national exams starting on Monday (British system-- the kids must pass exams at the end of each year in order to move on to the next grade level. If they fail, they cannot move on. Instead, they have to take private lessons to learn the material and re-take the exam, which costs money. The poor cannot usually afford it, so they drop out. This is what happened to Deliwe.) In any case, she was very happy to meet me, let me take her picture, and said she would come to my house meet me at 2 p.m. tomorrow. I think she feels badly for me living all alone. I told her about Deliwe, and she was very excited, as she knows her. Most people here seem to know each other, and also seem to like each other. I know it sounds corny, but it really seems to be true. Well, at least I like to think so.

After saying goodbye to Funny, I continued up the road and found another village with a small mosque that I'd found a couple of nights ago (I'm actually in an area heavily populated by Muslims, though there are many Christians here too, and 80 percent of the country is Christian). I took a few pictures, and then wanted to peer into the windows, since I'd never really been to a mosque before. Suddenly I heard someone call out, "Jennifer! What are you doing here?" I was shocked. Who could it be? I don't really know anyone here! I look up and see it's Mr. Banda. He's the man. He found me in the middle of nowhere, almost in the act of the worst type of vuoyerism (sp?)--the religious kind. Luckily, he stopped me just in time, as someone was praying inside, and during the month of Ramadan. Whew! So, I spent some time talking with Mr. Banda, hanging out in his house and discussing religion, actually. He happens to be Muslim, so we talked a bit about Ramadan, and my feelings about organized religion (which are primarily negative and somewhat unforgiving), and he was overall receptive to my point of view. He also explained to me about the 5 a.m. sweeping. Incidentally, speaking of religion, I met a Catholic nun today as well. Her name is Sister Anastasia, and she's my next door neighbor, as well as the mother of 2 of the girls in the "Welcoming Committee." I imagine she adopted them, unless the interpretation of the Catholic religion here is much different from that back home. She actually gets up at around 4 a.m. to pray. I think she sweeps after that.

Speaking of waking at dawn or before, it's now 9:10 p.m. here, and I imagine Daliwe is getting ready for bed by now. She probably cooked something, and I wasn't there to eat it. I tried to explain that she's off on Saturdays, but I think she prefers to sleep at my place, so most likely she's made some dinner. In the future, I should have internet at home, so I'll be in by sundown most evenings to complete my blog entries. I plan from now on to post once per day, so in the future these will not go on and on in the way this one has. However, I'm not making any promises. Welcome to Me 'n Malawi!