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.