Meet Nyama the Cat

We've settled on a name. She responds to Kitty, but her given name is Nyama, which translates to Animal and/or Meat. Sometimes we affectionately call her Kanyama, which means Little Animal. But mostly we call her Kitty. Or Kitty Kitty Kitty. She's stolen the hearts of millions already.

Today, Rob was doing the dishes and opened the bucket she usually uses to jump up on the counter. Plop!

The Shock of My Life

Rainy season started with a bang. A bang and an electrocution. The first big storm we encountered in the rainy season caught us as Rob and I were hitching our way from Tukombo to Nkhata Bay to get to my place. We got stuck less than half way, in Chintheche. Luckily, a fellow Tonga PCV, Melissa, lives ten minutes away with running water and electricity. After three weeks of traveling we were pretty spent and just happy to cook quickly on her hot plate, curl up with a movie, and pass out on her couch cushions on the floor.

The real storm started with a trickle of rain about half way through the movie (Stardust, in case you were wondering. P.S. the guy who wrote the book that movie is based on, Neil Gaiman, AWESOME! Just finished a book of his short stories, “Fragile Things,” highly recommend it. He’s a refreshingly creative writer. He thinks differently.) By the time we were hit the floor we had to yell at each other to be heard over the rain on the metal roof. I literally have never heard thunder that loud nor felt it so strong. The walls were shaking and the lightening outside lit up the house inside like it was daytime, but in strobe light form. Luckily, we were too exhausted to be kept up by it for too long. A few hours of sleep later all three of us were woken up by a particularly loud clap of thunder. After the initial startle, Rob and I started to lie back down on our respective foam squares of cushions to return to blissful sleep, but it was not to be so. I know pretty much nothing about how lightening or electricity works, whenever we talked about it in physics class I would turn of my ears and sing “la la la!” in my head. So I’m not sure how it happened but a second clap of thunder brought with it a flash of lightening (which, looking back on the experience, I don’t remember seeing) that either hit the roof and traveled through the walls and the cement floor or hit the electricity pole and came through the socket (which was not turned off and still had the computer charger stuck in it, the end of which was sitting on the floor). Whatever happened, Rob and I both got the shock of our lives.

My whole body felt the force of the electrocution, but I was half sitting up at the time, and the lingering feeling, what I remember most vividly, was the shock in my chest. If you’ve ever been zapped a little by electricity, you know the feeling of the vibration on the inside of your fingers. Like you’ve accidently touched a turned-on stove, if the stove was vibrating like those foot massager machines you can pay 25 cents for at the Zoo or Six Flags. That’s what it was like, except times maybe 10, and it was my heart touching the stove. But I also remember thinking that it really wasn’t that bad when it was over. I’m pretty sure the shock of the shock kept us both feeling ok enough to get over it quickly. But we were really shaken. The worst part, the WORST part, was thinking that there was nowhere to go to hide from the storm, that if we got electrocuted again, there was nothing we could do about it. We were completely at the mercy of the storm. And, if anything were to happen, we’d be completely helpless to do anything. If we called PC for help, they wouldn’t be able to hear us over the storm, and there’s no way transport could go anywhere in that weather. Melissa’s neighbors speak English, but so what? We’d still be competing with the storm and we’d still be screwed.

Of course, we were fine. Rob and I moved to higher ground and after being thoroughly freaked out for a while, jumping at every clap of thunder and counting the seconds obsessively between thunder and lightning, we eventually slept again. But it was a rude awakening to the helpless human condition up against the forces of nature.

Finally, a Quiet Week at Home

After non-stop traveling for the last three weeks, I finally got to take a breather at home. Good thing too, as Rob and I both came down with 24-hour fevers (thankfully staggered by a day) the second we started heading home because we were getting so run down. But, no tests to write, no classes to plan, no proposals to edit or groups to organize, no contact with PC office, because that’s always just a headache. Only gardening with Robert and Doug. And catching up on sleep and watching nighttime lightening shows. Phew. It took us four days to plant my gardens. It was a crazy amount of work and sweat. Rainy season is WAY more uncomfortable than hot season. Same temperature, but humid. The gardens look good though! It’s been less than a week but already my tomatoes, chickpeas, beans, and sunflowers are sprouting! We planted two types of corn, peanuts (called groundnuts here), watermelon, broccoli, onion, carrot, eggplant, squash, potatoes, cantaloupe, cucumber, greens, some other stuff. I also planted some perennial native Malawian foods to show that (1) I can do it and I’m not a total failure in the garden to the Malawians who think that if you can’t grow maize you can’t be taken seriously and (2) you don’t have to till your soil every year, foods will still come back without replanting. I’m using only compost manure from my cow group. Cross your fingers, I want to be able to feed the whole neighborhood from my little Eden.

And our little family grew by one tiny little member today! A sweet baby calico kitten! She’s microscopic! Rob and I spent maybe three hours sitting in my room with her today just watching her be cute. She does the usual kitten things: pouncing, prancing, falling, meowing, purring, sleeping, eating. Never gets old. We’ve been brainstorming names. Originally I was gonna go with Skeeter, to inspire friendship between her and Doug (like the characters in the classic ‘90s Nickolodean tv show “Doug”), but after their first encounter of growling and hissing, I decided it would be assuming too much. So, the current forerunners are The Pope, Mrs. Ngoma (Robert’s landlord’s name), Amama (what people call me here when they’re being affectionate), Bo! (common greeting of small children to Azungus, often accompanied by a thumbs up), The Exterminator, Kate (like Kate the Cat, to go with Doug the Dog), and Savage Beast. Honestly, I’m partial to Savage Beast. We’re just gonna end up calling her Kitty anyway. Or Meow Meow.

Baked Mango Crisp

TGI Mango season!! It means mango for breakfast, mango for lunch, mango wine, mango salsa, mango chutney, mango juice, mango jam, and now, mango crisp! It was so flipping good that Doug the Destructive somehow levitated onto the kitchen counter to stick his nose in it and eat it. All over his face. That jerk.
Ingredients:
4 cups sliced mango
¼ cup water
¾ cup flour (or ½ cup flour, ¼ cup oats…no oats? I recommend substituting cookie crumbs, best decision I’ve ever made)
¾ cup sugar
½ cup margarine
1 tsp cinnamon
¼ tsp salt

Line a greased baking tin with mango slices and cover with water. Combine remaining ingredients and spread evenly over the top. Bake at whatever temperature your makeshift village oven happens to be at for however long you feel like. It’ll be golden brown and bubbly on top when it done. Enjoy, and keep out of reach of dog.

My Africa Christmas List

It’s been EXACTLY one year since I received my Peace Corps acceptance letter, telling me I’d be leaving for Malawi (where the hell is that?) in eight weeks’ time. In honor of that momentous occasion, here is a list of things I didn’t realize I would desire with every fiber of my being that would make my African existence so much more pleasant. Luckily, they are all things that fit nicely in one of those red, white and blue Postal Service flat-rate boxes…

Chocolate in any form, current favorite is Pretzel M&Ms, but literally any chocolate will be warmly welcomed, and strictly rationed to last as long as possible.
Nutella
Poptarts
Community, Season 3
Bernstein’s Italian Salad Dressing
Condiment packet from fast food or Chinese restaurants. No, seriously. Free for you, gold for me.
Canned meats (turkey, chicken, salmon, tuna)
Canned cheese…I know it’s out there!
Disney movies (esp. the Little Mermaid, I’ve been having a craving. And the really old school ones, like Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella)
Parmesan shaky cheese
Salami
Bacon Bits
Pretty much any preserved animal proteins
Hot chocolate packets
Mac and Cheese….oooh! If you REALLY love me, the three cheese shell mac and cheese! OMG I could put the bacon bits you send me in it! OMG!
Rice-a-Roni
Any quickly-made meals, by the time I get the fire going and water boiled, I’m ready for bed.
Olive oil
Olives
Good alcohol, at least better than “Malawi Vodka”, which burns like gasoline. Wonder if we could use it as gasoline…
Ramen, it’s too expensive to buy here. It’s like gourmet in Africa. And! Makes great package padding!
Nestles Chocolate Chips, I finally figured out Africa-improvised chocolate chip cookies
It’s just about Girl Scout Cookie Season…right?!?! Samosas and Tag-a-longs are my faves! Zo my god.
Papa John’s Garlic Sauce!!! I would cry. I could cry just thinking about it.

Alright, I can come home now…

NOTE! I posted these backwards

Start below with "Jew and the Lotus" and read up from there. Pictures to come...eventually.

I-Spy-An-Elephant (Nov 6)

Our second official task at the Game Count was a two-hour hide. On our second morning in Liwonde they drove Rob and I out to the river where we sat relatively hidden in a bushy area to count the game that came to hang out near us. We requested to be in the elephant zone. I was determined to I-Spy-An-Elephant. Actually, the ride out was the best part. At one point we had a monkey trying to race our car, we saw a herds of buffalo and waterbuck and mpala and warthogs. Oh! And baby warthogs! Surprisingly adorable, considering they grow up to be beastly. I had the line from The Lion King’s Hakunna Matata “when I was a young warthoooooog” stuck in my head all morning. We all saw reedbacks jumping ridiculous heights through fallen trees. It was so cool, those reedbacks! It was Planet Earth but for real!

The actual hide part was relatively uneventful. The area was beautiful, but after a night of not sleeping (hot season seems to be taking revenge on Liwonde at night, no one could sleep), it was hard to stay attentive. But we DID see two elephants come out from the trees on the other side of the river to splash around. They were super far away and we could only really see what they were doing through binoculars. But it was still cool!

“Oh! Water buffalo.” “…Run.” (Nov 5)

So our first official task of the Liwonde Game Count was a 12km transect walk through the park, which my dumbass was less than prepared for in my shorts and sandals at 5am. Robert and I were assigned to a guide-slash-rifle-wielder named Nowa. He had a rifle because it’s dangerous to be out in the park on foot. Regular visitors aren’t allowed to leave their vehicles. Also, poachers are abundant, illegal, dangerous, and fair game to shoot at. I was very happy to find that Nowa was entirely competent and a perfectly nice man. Now that I think about it, I really liked that guy! Anyway, he and Rob kept me going at a “good clip,” aka too fast. Where’s the fire, guys!? I thought we were supposed to be counting animals, not going on a run. The first 5km were the worst, as it was through a landscape of vicious thorn-bushes, which had a way of finding their way under your toenails. We saw no animals, probably because nothing really likes walking through vicious thorn-bushes. But it picked up considerably after that. The second half of our little stroll was much more interesting. We saw a herd of running mpala and waterbuck, we saw a bushpig, and some warthogs chasing a bird. We saw a baboon, which told us in his barking language to get-the-f-out-of-his-habitat.

But here’s my favorite: We were 700m away from the end of our walk and I was thinking, “so far, Robert and Nowa have been spotting all the animals. I outta pull my weight.” I look up and see three huge animals about 50m away from us running in the opposite direction. I’ve seen things like these before in India and think mildly outloud, “oh! Water buffalo.” Nowa looks up, freaks out, and (very competently) positions his rifle against his hip and shoots one shot into the air. Then he turns on his heels and very quickly leads us in the opposite direction. “Come on, fast,” he says. Then he changes his mind, “run.” The buffalo (turns out they were just regular buffalo, not water buffalo) are long gone and far away from us by now and we finally stop to catch our breaths. “I do not like buffalo. They are too too dangerous,” Nowa is shaking all over and struggles to release the empty shell from his gun. He explains that he would much rather be that close to elephants or lions than buffalo, who are territorial, aggressive, and apparently, very dangerous. Good to know!

Baby Baboon on Board (Nov 4)

After the 50th Anniversary, Peace Corps Volunteers made a mass exodus from Lilongwe to Liwonde Wildlife Reserve in the South. Once a year the Reserve sets aside a highly coveted game count for PCVs. They have us come out for two days and help them take a survey of the game in the park. First Year volunteers take the south camp and Second Years take the luxurious north camp, complete with a swimming pool. Sign me up for next year! Liwonde is bloody hot! Luckily they had crazy rain storms the day before we arrived, so it wasn’t too hot until nighttime.

The south camp consists of a few youth hostels, an outdoor grill for cooking, an eating hall, and monkeys. The monkeys are completely unafraid of humans and have incredibly sticky fingers. Every meal time we were greeted by a hoard of vervets (little grey monkeys) surrounding the camp, waiting for an opportunity to move in on an unattended plate. They stole what they could, literally jumping up on the tables and the side of the grill to take people’s food, going into the hostels to take bananas and eggs, meant for the morning. Then the much larger baboons came in and the vervets scattered. The baboons strutted around camp like they were the highest order of species present. They stood patiently by the waste pile for us to throw things at them, they would have come into the eating hall and cleaned the tables of dropped food for us if we’d let them. We didn’t. We all became desensitized to them after awhile. They ceased being cool wildlife and became serious pests.

But the mommy baboons with babies clinging to their stomachs, that didn’t get old. Those babies were so cute! And when mommy wanted some mommy-time and tried to pry her little offspring from her, baby was like magnetized Velcro. Some mommies would get together in a circle to complain about their husbands and it was like baby gamboree. Baby baboons tumbling and playing and swinging from trees and falling over each other. I tried to lure them over with bananas, but those mommies trained them well, “don’t take bananas from strangers! And don’t trust those Homo sapiens, nothing good ever happened around that species.”

Mother's Day, Malawi Style (Oct 20)

Seems like there is a holiday at least once or twice a month, most of which are just an excuse not to go work work. Looks like Mother’s Day in Malawi is no different. So the kids, who were let off of school, came over to watch me while I was cooking. I told them how Mother’s Day works in America, how kids make cards for their moms that say “I Love You” and blah blah. I asked if they wanted to do that, which received a resounding yes. I dug out the crayons and some paper, which I folded into cards for them. Turns out the joy of scribbling on any flat surface with crayons is universal. It wasn’t long before they were all lining up to let me fawn over their stick-munthus (people) and purple galimotos (cars) and box-shaped nyumbas (houses). And, of course, it only took five seconds of my absence for the youngest of the bunch to take Mustard Yellow to my porch with a scribbling vengeance.

They loved it, though. They giggled uncontrollably at my praise of their use of colors and their depiction of stick-chickens. When I told them one picture was especially good they would quickly show their masterpiece to anyone who would look and chatter excitedly. It was really sweet; warm fuzzy feelings all around.

It made me think that maybe they aren’t given praise very often. In fact, I know it. It must have really been something for them to get a smile and a pat on the back from an adult. Few of them have both parents around, and when they are, they are too busy doing other things to tell their children their efforts are noticed. Most children spend most of their time with grandparents or other siblings, who do most of the childrearing while parents are working. And besides, children are there to do the menial tasks anyway; carrying water, sweeping the yard, cleaning the house, and doing the dishes and the laundry. If they are drawing pictures with crayons or anything creative, they’re probably in the way or shirking their chores. If you think that’s sad, it is. It really is. That is one thing I’ll give Malawi. One of the few things they should truly be pitied for. Their children don’t often get the attention and the praise they deserve. Maybe if they did, they wouldn’t all grow up to be teen parents…

The Jew and the Lotus

So I started this book, The Jew and the Lotus, about how a group of Jews of different denominations participated in dialogue with the Dalai Lama about the similarities and differences of the history and practices of Judaism and Buddhism. As a JuBu myself (yes, it’s a real-ish term), I can identify with how the two religions complement each other, at least spiritually. I have been surprised and delighted to read about just how similar are the philosophies of Buddhism and Jewish mysticism. It’s like they were once the same thing, back in the beginning of religion.

However, I have beef. Not with the main subject of the book, that’s all fine and dandy. My problem with it is how the author describes the Third World. The first chunk of the book is devoted to his journey to Dharamsala, where the dialogue was to take place. He does the typical “everyone is so poor, everything is do dirty, these people deserve our pity,” that is so common in Western coverage of poverty. He describes the hordes of beggars following him around Delhi, shamelessly shoving babies in his face to demonstrate their need. He dwells on the indecency of the slums and his inability to keep his emotions in check in the face of such desolation. These things are bad, yes. But what he writes in his own ignorance is that the true poor, the ones who are truly desperate and left with nothing, are too busy doing the worst jobs available to have time to beg on the street. Anyone who has spent any time in India would know that the shameless beggers in Delhi should be ignored. They know you’re foreign, they know you have money, and they know you’re easy. The author of “The Jew and the Lotus” is just contributing to the canon of Third World sensationalism that has exaggerated and skewed the common perception of the world outside the West. It’s frustrating seeing things so blatantly misrepresented in a vicious cycle of best-seller poverty-pity.

Let’s continue my rant to include Sub-Saharan Africa. Dirt, flies, malnourished children, poverty, beggars, etc. That’s what you see on TV, especially those infomercials. That’s what you read about in magazines and books like Three Cups of Tea, which glorify the poverty outside of our cushy First World empire. Give money here to this NGO, give money here to this fund. Well, you all know my views on foreign aid and how it’s keeping places like Malawi down. But the thing is, these people have been surviving just fine for much longer than we have. Yeah, they have less money and less education and more AIDS, room for improvment. But they aren’t dirty, they know how to keep the flies off their faces and their food. Being broke doesn’t have the same stigma or pose the same challenges as it does in America. They’ll still eat, they’ll still have everything they need. They have almost zero waste because they actually recycle, and creatively. Few things are actually wasted here (cow poop will soon be NOT wasted!). They are better off than us in a lot of areas of life. That’s true in Indian-India, that’s true in Tibetan-India, and that’s true here, in Africa. Of course, I’m generalizing. This is how it is most of the time. There are times, like the famine here ten years ago, that truly are horrendous. The droughts in West Africa which could turn into wide-spread famine, the war in Somalia. These are legitimately terrible things. But the pictures and stories of beggars and children sitting in front of mud huts? No. Mud huts are totally fine and cozy. I’m rather fond of them. And so, it is our own egotism and marketing that when we think of Africa we think of abject poverty. It’s not so. Last night, the BBC reminded me that Malawi is one of the poorest countries in Africa. They had to remind me. Malawi makes it work, they’ve been making it work for a good long time.

IST Presentations

Nothing like two hours of presentations by my fellow health volunteers about what they are doing at site to make you feel inadequate. Kate is working with the CDC testing Malaria medication and resistance trends to advise the Malawian Health Administration on which medication is best. Katie Shae is designing and implementing a training program for nurses selected to work in the new and only fully-equipped ICU in Malawi. Elizabeth spent a month running 100 twenty-minute in-home interviews with Malawian families in her catchment area, compiling 40 pages of relevant hard data. Matt has already built a science lab for his secondary school and is sending out grants for computers. Kudos to all those guys, but just WAIT till you see my 50kg bags of manure! Yeah! Cow poop! No but really, a lot of people are already doing exceptional work and I’m really impressed. I also got a lot of positive feedback and some oo’s and ah’s for my presentation. And even though I was talking WAY too fast for any of the Malawians to understand, they loved my hilario pictures of Doug. Had ‘um rolling on the floor.

The Arrival of the Counterparts

Text messages between me and an environment friend
Him: “Bet y’all are bored over there now that we’ve left”
Me: “ Bored? Hardly. Now we have our counterparts here to entertain us with endless awkwardness.”

Here’s my favorite so far:
We were asked to pair up with someone we didn’t know and introduce each other to the group including one interesting fact. The guy introducing my friend decided that of all the interesting facts she told him about herself, the one he chose to include would go something like this, “…and as big as she is, she is not yet married.” Oh, god.

Anna Gomani, an HSA at my health center, is here as my counterpart. She is one of six women among 14 men. I can foresee us being legitimate friends in the future, but I’m still providing a lot of the awkwardness in our particular relationship. But she is wonderful, answering questions in class and getting friendly with the other counterparts. I think she is really psyched about being here, hopefully this week’s sessions won’t be crossword-worthy.

“In Service Training” or “Incredible Stomach Torture" (Sept 18)

So they’ve thrown us all together again for our IST. Oh, the joys of having 40 Azungus in one place. IST is two weeks long and usually comes after our 3 month probation period. But because the new Education group came in at a weird time, our IST was pushed back a month. And because of all these budget cuts and what not they overlapped a week of the Health and the Environment sectors’ ISTs, which is a good thing. So the Environment guys had been here a week before we showed up and walked in on their little Frat party. Last week was definitely like coming back to college – class, cafeteria, doodling during class, hippies in hammocks, skipping class entirely, dorm rooms, communal bathrooms, scandals, bar hopping at night. Haha, bar hopping. I mean climbing a hill in a forest to get to the only bar in the area, which we are blessed to have. We even watched a little football! Patriots vs. Some Other Team. How are the Chargers doing??

But putting us all together again in close proximity and drinking also means rampant sharing of bugs. A bunch of the Environment group were knocked flat with some stomach slash fever deal. Almost everyone has had stomach issues and the dreaded die-die (that’s Peace Corps lingo for “diarrhea”). I think it’s the food, really. Not that the food is bad, it’s quite good. But now that we are denied the ability cook for ourselves all the time, we are at the mercy of the cooking staff. That means nsima, rice, and mostly oil. And meat everyday, which put my body in shock after 4 months of next to nada. Once I cut out the meat and the oil the die-die cleared up a bit, but I was in a rough spot for a few days. Being sick abroad sucks the most. All you want is to be home with a bowl of soup (maybe a couch, complete with a cat, but let’s not get depressing). This time all I wanted was Won Ton soup, and it happened to be the most unattainable thing in the world. Damn you, Won Ton soup!!!

On the training-front, IST is ok. I was hoping for a much more in-depth session on grant writing, as I will be doing a lot of it. Sorely disappointed, but I’m sure I can figure it out. Learned a lot about how to broach the HIV/AIDS topic in the village. Peace Corps gave us some really good tools for AIDS education. In all of the other sessions I got really good at crossword puzzles…

This weekend they shuttled us all back to our homestay villages to visit our families again. Soforeti immediately reattached herself to my hip. Marayu ran away from me and cried when the other kids tried to force him into my presence. Oh, well. Guess it wasn’t meant to last. Adaif kept her usual respectable distance from me but followed me everywhere, skipping with the rest of the village kids. I really love those tiny tykes! Mkomeko looks like it has had a serious economic boom since we left, maybe they had a really good harvest. There were a bunch of new houses and metal roofs. That constitutes an economic boom.

Now the Environment folks are gone and we are spending this week with our counterparts. The general consensus among us remaining PCVs is “awkwarrrrrddd!” We’re not psyched on this week. Now that our American friends are gone all we have to look forward to is a bunch of Malawians coming to pull the fire alarm on our Frat party. Mingling will be forced, interactions guarded, general awkwardness will ensue. Of course, it’ll be fun in its own way, I guess, and it’ll be nice to just be with the sector, but I’m not gonna lie, I’m expecting a letdown.

Wadenya Update Again (Sept 3)

Yet another meeting with the Wadenya group and they have changed their mind about the garden, which is great, actually. They decided they want to put their loan towards starting a maize mill, which is actually brilliant. It’s much more sustainable, profitable, and would actually help their area. I brought in a microloan guy who said their business loan policy can’t really help them though because they’d have to start paying it off within two weeks, which is unrealistic. So he’s still going to help them get a loan, but they’ll have to start a different business and work up to getting a maize mill. We’ll see how that goes.

6 Month Bash and More Updates (Aug 12-24)

Don't have a lot of time, so here it is in list form going backwards:

Today - Loaded up the dumb dog in a tiny car filled with people to get nutered in Mzuzu because he's the worst dog in the world (still like him, though), and maybe after a little castration action he'll be better behaved. Unfortunately, no general anesthesia, so that's a waste. Brought my trekking backpack so I could stock up on food though. Three packages in the mail today!! Thanks mom, dad, and Elinor Noble!!! Also letter from the Rider family, Mac Isseks, and Rachel Harris! I struck big!!!

Last Week (Aug 18-whatever) - Came home from party at Rob's a little less than excite to be back at site. I was on such a role all through August and had a hard time picking it back up again after a week off. The Chivute garden group is going SO WELL!!! THey took my to their garden the other day and were so proud to show off what they've done so far. I'm so impressed with them and their initiative. The Wadenya group, not so much. I read over the first draft of their proposal expecting them to ask for maybe 30,000mkw to start their garden. Nope, 150,000mkw, which is equivilent to about $1000US. THey're just trying to take advantage of the whole thing. I don't appreciate that. What do you need 10 watering cans for??? The Chivute group has their garden already going and all they did was raise 200kw membership fees. Don't be dumb, Wadenya. I start teaching Math and Bio for freshman and juniors in like a week. I was only planning on teaching 2hrs, 3 days a week, but SOMEHOW the headmaster got me to agree to 3 to 4 hours of instruction. I don't know if I'll be able to keep it up all year. I'll see how this term goes, but its not my job, I'm just volunteering. I'm worried that that amout of teaching commitment will detract way to much from my primary work. I think the headmaster knows that too, so he made it really hard to say no. hmm...

The week before (12-18) - 6 Month Mark slash Christian's Birthday Bash at Rob's site. It was AWESOME! Two days camping on the beach with all my friends, eating cake and roasting marshmellows and more eating! Good times. I'm surprising myself with how well I'm cooking, and cooking for 10 people at a time. My rice and beans are BOMB! and my sweet potato stew is like whoa! Met "New Melissa". She's the new education volunteer replacing my friend Melissa Small in Chintheche. I like her! She's gonna bring a nice dose of normal to our Tonga Time group.

Protest's rescheduled to next month, Sept 21 or something. Time's up! Happy birthday, mom!

Wadenya Group and Water Project Update (Aug 16?)

I have no idea what is interesting for you guys to read so I’m just gonna update you on pretty much everything… its all interesting to me, but I’m biased.

So had another follow up meeting with the Wadenya group today, the second group who wants to start a community garden by getting a loan. I might have been wrong about them seeming unmotivated, so I’ll hold off final judgment. Apparently they held elections for the group yesterday without me, which is awesome because it means their taking initiative, first step to capacity building and sustainability. But their still set on getting a loan to buy fertilizer and hose…things they really don’t need, but whatever. Today they wanted me to train them on how to write a loan/grant proposal. Uh… we missed THAT session in training too. Apparently, grant writing trainings for volunteers don’t happen until our In Service Training in September (which, inconveniently coincides with the first two weeks of school). So, I made it up. Hopefully I’m somewhere close to getting the right information out of them. I drafted up what I thought a proposal template should look like and wrote an example using a made up jam making group. I then spent a lot of time drilling them on how important it is to pay back a loan on time and to have a backup payment plan if the garden fails. I also told them that if the group can’t get the money together to pay it back they will not even THINK about asking me to front the money, because I don’t have it and it’s just asking for every person in Chikwina to ask me for money even more than they already do. What I’m really thinking, because it’s going to be such a small loan, is to set up a little microloan action myself. If they seem really serious about this loan business and put the right amount of effort into the proposal I’ll provide the loan myself and have them pay it back without interest over a certain period of time. Trick is to not let them know it’s from me. But this way we’ll avoid the actual waiting time to get a grant or loan approved, not have to deal with banks or high interest loan companies, not have to rely on other organizations, and still be in time for planting season. But if the proposal and motivation seems iffy I have no problem taking the proposal they write me, putting it into the right format when I know what it is, and taking it to another organization to take myself out of the equation. I’ll let you know how it goes. Also, is this stupid?

And the unnamed NGO’s water project I was telling you about a few posts ago has taken an interesting turn. The other Azungu in my village wrote a blog post about the water demonstration for the American visitors many weeks ago when it initially happened. However, her blog is connected to her University’s blog and has a much high readership. Also, her writing style about the subject, in my opinion, is a lot more sensationalist and opinionated and painted a much bleaker picture of the NGO. She was really out to expose the shortcomings of the project and the work ethic of the organization. Of course, her controversial post got a lot of press and it didn’t take long for it to be read by a lot of higher ups here in Malawi and got her a lot of attention in the village. The response was interesting. First, said NGO organized a Chikwina field day where they toted us and members of the district and the MP (Member of Parliament) around to all the projects they are doing around the area, reminding us Azungus and the press that showed up of the successes they’ve accomplished. We started at the topmost water tank where they explained how the project would work when it was completed…by the end of the year. Still skeptical, but ok. Then we hit up the orphanage (where, tragically, most of the kids were either orphaned by HIV/AIDS or were positive themselves) 15km away in Mwambazi, near Meredith’s site. We were met by a room full of the most adorable 4-year-olds in adorable little matching uniforms, each with a stuffed animal, singing to us adorably. They also opened the session with a prayer, which they all had memorized and tried to say louder than the little mushy kid next to them. After that was the fish farm, the women’s juice factory, and the community youth center computer lab. I stopped paying attention at this point though, because I was hungry. But the crowning session at the end of the day was the final discussion at the NGO office where everyone who was anyone stood up and gave a speech. I was really hungry. But I perked up when the MP (or was it the head of the District? I don’t know, everyone has weird names here, I can’t keep them straight) gave his speech, in English, so he was sure we understood. Essentially he, in a very politically correct, vague, and public way, chewed out the other Azungu for making Malawi and the NGO look bad to potential foreign donors. He made a good point though, even if he does benefit personally/financially from the NGO. On the other hand, volunteers on the project are now being paid 200kw per day to ensure that the project gets finished on time. Good did come from her shock and awe exaggerated exposure of the whole thing. They’ve given themselves five months to complete it. I still won’t hold my breath, though.

WANTED: Pen Pal for Wonderful African Woman

The Pastor’s wife pulled me aside the other day and told me in all of the English words she knows that she will give me a chicken (whom I have already named Barbeque) if I can find her an American pen pal. She’s an unbelievably warm person and wife to one of my favorite people in Malawi, American or otherwise. Any takers?! Let me know. Better yet, just email me a letter to her (Mrs. Kumwenda) and I’ll print it out and hand it to her so she can work on her response until the next time she, I, or the Pastor have internet access.

In Other News!!! (Aug 6-Aug 15ish)

I’m finally getting some work done in my village. Now that my three-month PC probation period is over I’m really trying to get my hands dirty, literally. Not gonna lie, I’m pretty pleased with myself so far.

So in the last two weeks I’ve bought my first two chickens (named Fried and Finger Linkin’) and finished planting stage 1 of my garden, permagarden style. Permagardening is also called the lazy-man gardening style. You plant an area of garden as densely as possible and interplant vegetables that help each other grow. It’s designed in such a way as to make the most efficient use of the least amount of water and work. I don’t know if I did it right, since I’ve never done this noise before. But so far my tomatoes, peppers, onions, cucumbers, spinach, and sweet potatoes have germinated. Cross your fingers I don’t kill them. My neighbors are very skeptical. One of them even offered to come over this weekend and help me plant stage 2 of my garden in the neat single-planted row style that they use in their gardens to see which type of garden is more effective. I’m psyched! I’ll plant stage 3 and 3.5 sometime in September using two different types of fertilizer to demonstrate to my community that (hopefully!!!) relying on the government (not-so)-subsidized fertilizer is unnecessary and avoidable. I’ll explain the fertilizer problem below.

I’ve also been unbelievably busy with village meetings I’ve scheduled with the 5 closest villages in my catchment area and having one-on-one meetings with all my health center staff. I’ve been learning so much! And turns out, I’m in high demand! But honestly, I wouldn’t know what I’d have done without the other Azungu in my village, who not only set the bar for involvement high, but also showed me how to go about doing grassroots development work in a country that doesn’t speak my language. Lesson 1: don’t use a health worker (HSAs, no idea what it stands for) as a translator in village meetings. HSAs already have elevated status in the village because they’re not from here and they’re educated, employed, and have a steady-ish income (when the government actually pays them). So showing up in the village with them associates you with a higher status and during interviews you receive practiced, not necessarily truthful answers regarding health and whatnot. Better to use a person from their village or someone they know from a nearby village who speaks English decently to get better, more honest answers out of them. Because really, they’re mostly speaking to the translator, a friend, and not you, since you’re blabbing away in a language they don’t understand and you’re funny to look at anyway and your dog is distracting you because he’s shamelessly chasing everyone’s chickens. I’ve been using this kid, Samuel, who just wrote his secondary school exit exams. He’s something like 20-years-old, speaks English beautifully, uses his noggin, and wants to go into public administration if his test scores are high enough. He’s all about what I’m doing, which is great, and has a knack for simplifying my questions to get the answers I’m looking for. Man, I should bake that guy a cake or something. Oh! And he keeps time! It’s amazing and unheard of! When I say we have a meeting at 2pm, he’s at my door at 1:45. What?! I thought we were on Africa time.

In my first meeting in Mjutu, where I got Doug the Destroyer (he’s out of control), only about 10 people came, but it was enough. From that meeting I learned that besides water availability their major concern is how expensive the government synthetic fertilizer is and that they are worried about how reliant they are on it. The same issue has been brought up at almost every subsequent meeting I’ve had since Mjutu. This got me thinking about the nice man who comes to my door every morning with a bucket of fresh milk he sells for 30 kwatcha a cup. (P.S. this has dramatically increased my delicious food intake. Crepes, creamy potato soup and pasta with cream sauce! Zo my gods.) Anyway, after a little digging I’ve learned that most of the cow owners in the area just wash their cow manure away. Not while I’m here! I talked to my nice milkman guy, who is one of the few who composts his manure, and next week we’re going to try to get all the cow owners together to form a group to collect their manure and sell it cheaply to the community as fertilizer. This way, they can make more money, buy more cows, produce more manure, and pamana pamana (slowly slowly), our community can end our reliance on the expensive government synthetic fertilizer. Everybody wins! Cross your fingers that this one works. I’m all about it. Jesus, I’m all about cow poop now.

My next meeting was with Chivute, the village I live in. I started out with what I thought was just a silly, oversimplified Peace Corps sanctioned activity, called Community Mapping. It’s one of the tools we’re given to learn about what a community thinks is truly important. I did it by the book and split the group (of 40!!!) into men and women and had them draw a map of Chivute to see the differences in what the genders deemed important in their village. The men drew the village boarders, marketplace, and soccer pitch really big compared to everything else while the women included the names of the families that lived in each compound, which they drew as spatially accurate as they could. Gender! Interesting stuff. Anyway, the discussion part of the meeting reveled that besides fertilizer, they also felt strongly about the lack of transport, the dire need to have an ambulance (on it!), and the lack of an accessible CBO (Community Based Organization, or Town Council). The nearest CBO is in Chaula, which really is too far to be an effective organization for Chikwina. I asked them why the area doesn’t just form their own unofficial CBO, and the responded, “Wednesday, you come back Wednesday and we’ll start one.” So I came back Wednesday, they held elections (really they just informed each other who would fill which roles) and decided that their first order of business would be to start a community garden to benefit the village orphans, vulnerable children, and widows. Groundbreaking is on Monday. Just like that! They’re supplying the labor and the manure and I’m donating my leftover seeds from garden stage 1. They seem really motivated to get this mini CBO off the ground. The Secretary keeps coming up to me to inform me of the progress. He gave me a list of all the members so that I can call roll at the next meeting to shame everyone into showing up and tomorrow we’re having a pre-groundbreaking meeting to come up with the rules of the group and a long-term garden/business plan. Double cross your fingers for this one!!!

Third meeting was in Wadenya. Samuel and I did another PC activity and had the men and women write out their daily schedules, hour by hour. The pretense was so that I could understand what daily life was like in the village, but really it was so we could have a heated discussion on gender issues. After each group presented their schedules I asked, “So who has the most free time? Who works harder?” Everyone agreed it was the women and that it was a cultural tradition. But once the women were talking above the men and not letting them speak and clapping their hands, the men agreed that there might be some areas in which they could help out their wives, especially when they are pregnant. Then an old lady asked, “How can the older people in the village make money?” And thus gave birth to my favorite group so far, the Agogo Groupo (grandparents group). When I came back the next day to discuss the group in detail I actually found a bunch of old women and young women and men. Turns out they all wanted to do it. I’m still gonna call it the Agogo Groupo in my head. They don’t seem as motivated, though, as Chivute. It seemed they just wanted me to give them all the answers and loan them the money to start their own garden. Nope. I’m starting to worry that every group I start will want to plant a garden. I’ve decided that the next group to say they want a garden I’m going to say no, you have to come up with something unique that the area doesn’t already have. That means bread and jam are out of the question (the other two most popular IGAs, or income generating activities, in the area). Anyway, Wadenya is insistent on using fertilizer and not manure so I told them that if they need money to do this they’re going to have to write a proposal and I’ll help them find a microloan or grant, I’m not just gonna hand them the money. They need to show some initiative.

After meeting with the health staff, it turns out my health center is pretty dysfunctional. They’re pretty much never open, and when they are they only have one nurse and no other curative health staff. The HSAs are meant as field workers in the villages and do mostly preventative work. I’ve been hearing complaints from the villagers that there is no privacy at the health center and patient confidentiality isn’t guaranteed because of it. They don’t feel comfortable telling the nurse their ailments for fear that other people will overhear, so they don’t. That’s gotta go immediately, so I’ll be talking to my In-Charge ASAP. The first grant I plan on writing will be to procure an ambulance-like vehicle for Chikwina, if it is at all possible. I talked to the DHO (District Health Officer) who said that if I could get a vehicle, the district would provide the driver and the petrol when it’s available. I think that’s a pretty good deal, actually. But then I was talking to someone, I forget who, who said that a similar thing happened in another health center and after the volunteer left, the District took the ambulance back and gave it to another area until the government got involved and mandated that the ambulance be returned. Whatever, lets worry about that after I’ve secured a vehicle. Any reliable vehicle will do, really. Four-wheel drive preferable. Might be able to get one cheap off a soon-to-be-evacuated Canadian volunteer…hmmm.

There have been other meetings but I won’t bore you with the details until something uniquely interesting comes out of them. It’s really great to be working finally. But it has been literally nonstop for two weeks. So for this week I’m taking a breather in Tikombo at Robert’s site to have a 3-month-jailbreak slash Christian’s birthday beach-camping Tonga party with the crew. Ditching the Four-Legged Terror with the Pastor. Just about time to get the little bugger fixed. Maybe then he’ll stop running away at night and hunting Fried and Finger Lickin’.

Aug 6, 2011: DPP - Diesel Petrol Palivi

DPP is actually the Democratic People’s Party, President Bingu’s party currently ruling Malawi. Recently, I have heard people not-so-affectionately referring to it as “Diesel Petrol Palivi”, palivi meaning “it is without”.

I’m sure most of you have heard about the recent demonstrations happening in Malawi due to the rapidly declining standards of living and Bingu’s blatant political and financial corruption. I don’t know the details but by far the biggest problem Malawians are upset about (and Bingu ignores) is the petrol crisis. There is no fuel anywhere, and when it is found, it is exorbitantly expensive. Transportation is a nightmare, which translates to zero access to hospitals for those living in the bush, very few deliveries of medicine to health centers, etc. And food prices are going up at the same time the value of kwatcha is going down. As a result, things are getting exciting.

Exhibit A: The July 19-21 demonstrations in the three major cities. A total of 19 dead, including 2 policemen, 70-something-crazy in the hospital with bullet wounds, millions of kwatch in looting damage. Most of the violence occurred in Mzuzu, the city in the north and my closest pocket of civilization. Again, I don’t know the details, Peace Corps was quick to put us all essentially on house arrest and travel ban. In Chikwina, things were very quiet. We’re 20km into the bush so even if there was petrol to have, we would still not have petrol. I’m probably tucked into the safest, quietest place in the world. However, if Bingu does not address the complaints (which he won’t) more protests are scheduled for August 17-19 in the bomas, that means in all the town and major trading centers. I was talking to my good friend, the African Presbyterian Pastor and my adopted African father, about what he thought about the demonstrations. He said that when Malawians, famous for being the most peaceful, passive country in Africa, are angry enough to get off their butts, join together, and protest, you KNOW things are bad (I’m paraphrasing, he didn’t use the word “butts”).

Intially, we were all pretty nervous they would have us evacuated. I’m still pretty nervous. Hey, remember a few posts ago when I said that foreign aid just needs to leave Malawi so they can figure it out themselves? Oops. Now that Briton has pulled out 5.2 billion and America pulled out 53 billion in aid, and the protests are gonna be rough this month, and the other Canadian Azungu in my village IS being evacuated this week, things don’t look too reassuring for THIS foreign aid worker. While I still think it’s a good thing that Malawi will now be forced to less reliant on foreign money, I have no desire to leave myself. But Peace Corps usually waits as long as possible to evac a country, so I’m not THAT worried. But I’m still worried. I really am safe though, guys. Not to worry, I have a lot of people looking out for me here and Doug…barks. He’s not the most effective security guard. He’s just not that menacing, unless you’re a chicken. I mean the animal, a chicken. They’re scared shitless of him.

I’ll try to keep you posted better after the next round of demonstrations this month once the inevitable travel ban is lifted.

Letter from the Editor

Talked to Jeremy, the volunteer I am replacing, on Facebook. He is also familiar with this NGO and knows their reputation. He made a good point to include the fact that they do a lot of legitimate work in Chikwina that accomplishes a lot of good in the area. He reminded me that hundreds of kids are going to school and getting supplemental food because of them. He says that all large organizations have their successes and failures, US Peace Corps definitely included (I can definitely attest to that one) and that it's never going to be a perfect system. Amen, brotha.

In other news, things are pretty rough right now in Malawi. Bingu (the President of Malawi) stopped paying the police and the military (what a dummy), the UK pulled out 5.2 billion in aid, and petrol demonstrations scheduled for Wednesday. And that's just over the last week. Not to mention that Obama cut the Peace Corps budget by 10% at the same time he doubled it's size. So much for getting a raise that would reflect the ridiculous inflation rates Malawi is experiencing right now. We were all discussing in the other day and one of the PCV's who is completing her service in the next two months, was like, "you guys are SO gonna get evacuated." Seems to be the general consensus among volunteers who have been here a while. Its a little disheartening, to say the least. Let me know if you guys back in the States hear anything!

Pictures!

My INDOOR kitchen!

Front of my house, complete with the newly erected electricity pole.

My front porch with my friend Levi in a neighboring village and my counterpart's son, Wisdom.

My living room. It's HUGE! Levi (foreground), Wisdom, and Jeremy (volunteer I'm replacing).

My bed

Robert's house in Tikombo, Doug and my retreat center

Little baby Doug being bopa'd in Nkhata-Bay. That's Meredith, my site mate, next to me.

My GAD camp girls, Charity, Chawezi, and Mary job shadowing a nurse.

Some monkey friends I made on my bike ride to Mzuzu.

Doug, my African pride and joy.

GAD Camp!!!

I’m currently spending this week in Mzuzu as Vice President-elect of the Gender and Development (GAD) committee helping the current exec board with their GAD Camp. It’s just like real camp! But in Africa. And not really like real camp. But still cool! Are tenacious and tireless leaders have brought 25 students from villages all over the Northern region here to Mzuzu, many for their first time, to learn about what it’s like to be a professional in a city. In the mornings they job shadow people like mechanics, business people, nurses, doctors, we have a hair stylist, and a radio DJ. In the afternoons we do camp-like things like games or we have fieldtrips to the courthouse or guest speakers or resume workshops. It really is pretty cool. We've got them doing a very American-television impression of a doctor. They'll get really serious and whip off their glasses or point serious fingers and proclaim "I'm a doctor." The kids are loving it.

They especially love movie nights. We’ve been watching the High School Musical Trilogy. Yes, trilogy. They eat that noise UP! Singing, dancing, white kids their age! Us PCV’s love it too. We’re all in this together, la la la!!! Tonight we’re having a very camp-like talent show, where yours truly will be performing a little Secondary School Musical drama to my campers’ delight. Jealous?!

Bonus! Mom and Dad sent me a care package with a lovely little $20 bill hidden in it. They have more than doubled my standard of living for the rest of the month! Beer and “pizza”?! I think yes.

Save Some for the Fishies - The Unfortunately Overlooked Drinking Problem

To be read after previous post.

Here’s something I CAN mention in some detail about Malawian culture that is just ridiculous. The DRINKING! In Malawi, the severe and crippling drinking problem rampant among men is completely overlooked and considered a non-issue. Apparently, the government does not recognize drinking as a problem and thus provide zero support or programs related to rehabilitating out-of-control drinkers. And to make matters worse, the culture of family support and the what’s-mine-is-your’s noise just enables alcoholics. Families are required to take care of all family members and so drinkers are rarely turned out and are always taken care of.

My friend and fellow GADster, Renee, and I really want to do something with this issue because we think its so ridiculous. I’ve talked with a few of my Malawian friends about what they think about the drinking issue and they all agree that it is definitely an issue. But when I ask about how to stop it, one woman, who I freaking LOVE, Mrs. Ngoma, in Robert’s village of Tikombo, said “it is just not possible, pass the tea.” By not addressing the issue and with no repercussions of being a raging alcoholic, there is no reason to stop drinking. In America, the AA program works because the people have hit rock-bottom. They have lost all their friends, their families have left them, they have no money and can’t keep a job. These things just don’t happen in Malawi. Their families have to keep them and there are no jobs to begin with. Why quit when you can stay drunk?

I just met the first person I’ve heard of in Malawi to quit drinking this week during GAD camp. He is Sheriff and he quit drinking soon after he got married and spent his whole paycheck on booze, resulting in his wife leaving him for a few days. I was dying to ask him how he did it, but there was no time. I will now stalk his office to get an appointment with him. Apparently there is some anti-drinking organization here in Mzuzu, but I have yet to find them. I also just read an article in the PC magazine about PC Mongolia starting to address a similar drinking issue there with an alcohol awareness week. Renee and I are on it, but before that happens we need to be able to provide information on how to quit and why they need to quit and why it’s even a problem. That Sheriff guy is one-in-a-million, we need to make the issue accessible to villagers. Any ideas?

General Update on My Life...Which Becomes a Rant On Foreign Aid

K, I don’t even know where to start to catch up. There’s just no time to write blogs. When I splurge for internet access I’m way too busy in the hour I allot myself doing other things to write a post. When I’m at site its only so often that I can charge my computer. And with the charge I’d much rather watch a movie for a blissful two hours with a pot of mac and cheese on my lap and a dog waiting for me to finish so he can lick the bowl than write.

So I’m in my fifth month in Malawi. That’s crazy, time flies and crawls. I’m kind of in a weird spot. I love being in Peace Corps Malawi, but (at least right now) I am not impressed with Malawian culture and Malawians. There’s a lot I can’t write here. Like, most of it. Like, all of it. Mom and Dad got the phone-version rant of it last week, so if you really want to know, ask them. There are just so many parts of the culture that get me so FRUSTRATED! It seems to be an inherently nosy and invasive way-of-life, they take liberties with each other’s [my] stuff and food. And in a socialist-what’s-mine-is-your’s kind of way it makes sense and is acceptable. But it’s NOT my culture and it’s NOT what I’m used to [yet?] or comfortable with and to me it’s RUDE! It’s just rude. And then there’s the forced politeness and the rolling-over-and-taking it aspect. And the constant cheerfulness even if you feel anything but. And that’s all I can really say about it on a public blog. My interactions with PCV’s who have been here for a while just confirm my initial impressions, which is disheartening. Apparently, for many of them whom I have spoken with (I am in no way speak for all of them) their opinion of Malawians and the culture just solidify into non-respect and distaste for the people entirely. I really do hope my attitude about Malawi changes eventually, because right now, I’m just not a fan.

So moving on to my favorite subject: Doug. He’s all better now, thank the stars. After a solid week of not eating I “rushed” him (Africa-style) to Mzuzu, where he was subject to eight shots (by, lets be honest, a completely incompetent veterinarian, but options are nonexistent) and he wouldn’t speak to me for awhile after that. Now he eats everything. He can down nsima like the best Malawian. He’s getting really big. I remember when I could hold him in one hand and bopa him around Nkhata-Bay like a doll. Now he’s tall enough to jump through my open window, which we use as a dog door, and I have to sit on him in order to get his chain on whenever I leave site on my bike. We’re still stuck on “sit.” Little brat is untrainable. He’s so freaking cute though. His little ears stick out like Pippie Longstockings’ braids and he always looks like he’s about to take flight like Dumbo.

The other Azungu in my village is making me look bad by being a superior volunteer. She is a Canadian Engineers Without Boarders volunteer on summer vacation from McGill. She’s doing a follow-up survey on a UNICEF sanitation project triggered in Chikwina a year ago. She’s only here until the end of August, which probably explains why she’s been a more effective volunteer. If I only had three months in Malawi I probably wouldn’t be such a bum half the time. But she really is a great resource and Azungu-outlet for me. Engineers W/out Boarders trained her really well before she came on how to ask villagers the right questions and how to get them to answer with any sort of honesty and useful information. I’m learning a lot from her about development work. Somehow, we missed that session during Peace Corps training. Rant about ineffective development work in Malawi to come if I can phrase it without getting in trouble.

In the meantime, here’s a fun story about said ineffective development work: There is a very active NGO in my area, which shall remain unnamed because I have to live there with them for the next two years. Just know that they are a large well-known worldwide organization. Not UNICEF, you guys are still ok in my book. This NGO started a water project in Chikwina some 6 years ago. Well, I’ve heard 6 years and I’ve heard 2 years and I’ve heard a million years, who knows, it all gets lost in translation. Anyway, the water project would bring water from 4 huge water tanks from a river source high up in the mountains all the way to my health center and to all the villages from the source to Mphamba, the trading center 20km down the mountain from my site. It’s a huge project that would benefit a whole bunch of people and is VERY ambitious. So ambitious, that it’s never gonna work (my opinion). For one thing, because of the tradition of being offered incentives to work with development workers, few Malawians in the area will help with the labor because they won’t get paid (uh, duh, except in consistent running water when it’s finished). For another, this is Malawi, and nothing is ever planned to the finish and thus, nothing ever gets finished. And another, this NGO is slated to pull out of the Chikwina area within two years. I just have very little hope this project is going to go anywhere, at least it won’t go anywhere sustainable.

Anyway! The headquarters (hint: based in Seattle, WA) sent a team of their people to come film a promotional video of the projects the NGO is doing in southern Africa to get donors to cough up some good ol’ American dollahs. The week before these people came, the NGO workers in-country (all Malawian) were going CRAZY trying to get a water demonstration put together to show the visitors something when they arrived. They desperately completed-ish one section of the piping to hook up one of the taps in the village of Komphomobo to one of the water tanks. They were working literally until the last minute when the visitors showed up with their cameras and their desire to be lied to (yep, they really wanted to believe they were doing really good, lasting work in a developing nation – the bane of all foreign aid). So after a few tense minutes of holding our breath (at least, everyone who knew what was really going on) the workers turned the tap and out poured fresh water direct from the source. The villagers, who knew how to please Azungu aid workers, danced and sang and posed for pictures with water buckets on their heads and praised the work the NGO was doing and thanked God and professed their gratitude that they would no longer have to trek to a far-away borehole (which is really a few meters down the hill). The children took pictures pretending to drink the water out of their cupped hands, while their parents warned (in Chitonga) not to actually drink the water because they knew the river water was unsafe to drink untreated. The NGO representatives got their footage, packed up, and a week later they were in Tanzania filming barefoot children with flies on their faces to get fellow Americans to get out their checkbooks to open a branch of the NGO there. Meanwhile, in Komphomobo, the tap was turned off, because it was just a demonstration, and work on the project returned to a snails pace.

I’m not saying that the work the NGO is doing is bad. It’s not, if it works out on any level it will do a world of good in Chikwina. I’m also not saying that the visitors are bad. They really are here to help, but they are completely ignorant about the real problems of what they are throwing money at. They didn’t stay long enough or ask questions or try to get the truth about the real progress of the project or the background or have any understanding of it whatsoever. They really did want to believe their funds were working. However, I do believe their filming in Tanzania is exploitation and will be mostly fabricated and give an entirely false impression of the poverty in that country. From what I can see in Malawi, these people in southern Africa know how to survive just fine. They know what’s up, they’re not as helpless as propaganda would make them out to be. Film can make anything look like anything. In my honest opinion, foreign aid is the real problem. I think we all just need to leave the country entirely and let them figure it out on their own instead of letting them let us think for them. We’ve all been here long enough. I really think most of their problems stem from too much foreign aid.

I’m pretty sure I’ve overstepped my boundaries with this one and I have potentially offended a lot of people. Rereading this, I make it sound a lot harsher than it might be. I’m biased, these are my opinions, not that of Peace Corps or anyone else. So much for not telling you guys things… F*** it, I’ll go ahead and post this.

Pile O' Puppies

In Mzuzu for the monthly GAD meeting (Gender and Development), which I am now the vice president of. Go me! Looking responsible!

Five of us brought our puppies to take to the vet. It's like we planned it. They are so unbearably cute, falling all over each other and being adorable. Doug has a girlfriend. She's a cutie, so young she doesn't have a name yet. Doug's a cradle robber.

So on my way home from Robert's site I accidentally missed transport home and was not-so-unfortunately stuck at Melissa's site...for two nights. We ran into another PCV on the beach, Adam, with his family. They treated us to a wonderful dinner at their resort. It was just like parents visiting in college, wanting to feed everyone and hear everything. It was great!! I haven't been at site for almost two weeks. I'm getting a little site guilt. I'll go back tomorrow for sure...

That is all!

The Joys of Running on the Beach with a Baby Dog

Turns out Doug is a terror. Doesn't help that I have no idea what I'm doing. We've pretty much plateaued at "sit." He's growing faster than I can feed him. And he eats everything. Even the mud stove we made two weeks ago. He won't eat beans though, which is too bad b/c that's 80% of what I eat here.

Sooooo its been, what?, two wks since I last tried to update my blog sans internet? Awesome. Last week a bunch of us in the North went to Mzuzu for an HIV/AIDS training thing for three days. It was actually the most useful and informative training we've had since we've been here. We left thinking "isn't that what PreService Training was supposed to be like?" It wasn't even really a training, more like a focus group for the staff to find out what we know about AIDS and what we need in terms of support. It was mostly newbs at the meeting, so we pretty much knew nothing and especially nothing on how to implement AIDS awareness education blah blah in our villages. So, we pretty much soaked up every word the staff and older PCVs said to us. AND it was an all-expenses paid trip to Mzuzu. Winner winner, three nights o' chicken dinners!

Then a week ago, last wednesday, I got my first PC official visit from the staff. AND they brought all 6 of my packages up from Lilongwe for me! Thank god!!! Woulda been a beast if I had to figure out how to transport them myself. AND so much food!!!! YES!!! Doug loves cardboard boxes!!! And thank you SO much Mom, Dad, Katie, and Marley for the love. Because it was pure love in those boxes. I'm so happy!! Anyway, the site visit was a jolly good time that took all of five minutes and then free transport out of Chikwina half way to Chintheche, where all my dreams come true! I saved like a million kwacha! And the pup got to ride along. And once we were in Chintheche, why not go all the way to Robert's site in Tukombo? Why not?! And why not stay a few extra days on the beach.... with my hammock I so conveniently stashed in my backpack?

So I just left Rob's site today, after telling myself the last three days that "this will be the day I go home." I just couldn't bring myself to do it. His site it AWESOME! He has a truly Peace Corps house, the way you're supposed to live when you're in the Peace Corps. Mud hut, thatched roof, do the dishes, the laundry, and the bathing in the lake. We camped on the beach one night, made s'mores, got sunburned. Krazy Kathi came one day and we giggled uncontrollably over delicious ramen sent from home. We went to Kande Beach and drank beers in hammocks and ate food at a resort like it was a real-life vacation. Doug and I got up and ran and yoga'd on the beach in the mornings. I've never had a dog of my own before, and much less one I could run with. It was so much fun! He follows me everywhere, so it was no problem getting him to keep up (I mean, getting ME to keep up). He just thought it was playtime. He's so cute and small and always wanted to race...or eat sand. Sometimes he couldn't decide, which was so cute! And everyone we passed yelled after us "azungu we ndi kagalu! kagalu! kagalu!!!" (White person has a small dog! Small dog! Small dog!!! - Its more like a song when they yell kagalu, with the "ka" short and the "gaaaaaa" drawn out). Yoga with the dog was a little more difficult. Turns out he loves to dig. Every pose I started turned into him trying to dig my feet out of the sand. He's still nervous about the water, ever since Melissa's Tonga party the other week. He'd never been to the lake before and had no idea what a body of water entailed. So he followed me right in without realizing dry land had ended. It was the biggest surprise of his little life.

So yes, Robert's site is truly paradise on Earth. But why I REALLY adored his site was that everyone there speaks the Chitonga dialect that I learned. It was SO refreshing to speak with people and understand them and have them understand me, especially after drowning the last few weeks in the fake-mumbled-Tonga-slash-actually-Tumbuka noise they make at my site. YES! TONGA! I can actually speak you a little! I helped make soap with Rob's inherited women's group and almost-sort-of-chatted with them over tea and garlic bread (inter-cultural exchange, thank you very much.) Rob and I came up with an INGENIOUS way to toast garlic bread over his wood-burning stove. its INGENIOUS! it involves metal skewers, but I'm not giving away any INGENIOUS secrets... Ok, so what you do, is position metal skewers that past PCV's have left behind OVER the stove like a griddle. its brilliant! Considering that before we unearthed the skewers I was just dangling the bread over the fire with my bare hands. That was dumb. I also made a few top-of-the-line hand washing stations around his site out of old plastic bottles and string. Health Sector 2011!!

Ok enough internet, my eyeballs are starting to cross and I'm gonna miss my transport home. Peace to the core!

May 11, 2011

So I lasted another week at site before I left again. I really love site. But I also really love my PC friends. So, the weekends are a toss-up. This weekend Doug and I are in Chintheche at a Tonga Party. My buddy Melissa has a bwana house on the lake with running water and electricity, and its time to have another party. Should be a jolly good time.

Notable things that happened this week:

-People came of fix the broken pipe that is preventing me from having running water. They fixed it for about an hour before they had to turn the water off again b/c they’re missing a part. It was still really exciting to see water coming out of the tap. Like, really exciting. Doug and I watched the shower running for a few minutes while the pipes cleared of months of dirt. Then I gave him a bath, which he didn’t really like.

-Its only been a week since I’ve had Doug and he’s definitely already getting fatter. I taught him how to come, sit, and jump so far. But we need to work on “stay.” Like, REALLY need to work on “stay.” And “drop it!” Luckily I have very few items of furniture, so teething damage is minimal. The neighborhood kids are warming up to him. Yesterday they were feeding him usipa (dried mini fish, like sardines) and trying to get him to chase them around.

-I attempted to make pumpkin jam. People have been giving me lots of pumpkins. What do you do with pumpkins besides carve them and smash them? I made “jam,” which really turned out to be very sugary syrup. But Doug and the kids like it. Better luck next time. I also made a pumpkin curry, which turned out to be bomb, until I ruined the rice I was gonna eat with it. I suck at cooking. Hardcore suck at cooking. Rob’s coming back with me this weekend after the Tonga Party to finish the mud stove, hopefully that’ll help.

-Helped out with an Under 5 clinic and two outreach clinics in near-by-ish villages. Outreach clinics involve me and Johnstone, one of the HSAs (Health Something Somethings at the health center) walking some distance through the mountains to weigh babies and distribute vitamins and give health talks. I’ve started talking to him and the Senior HAS about what projects need to be done. I need to get in touch with the Community Development Committee in one of the near-by-ish-yet-very-remote villages to work with them to get more protected shallow wells in their area. The one that they have (which serves 2000+ people) isn’t working so they’ve been getting their water from the river, NOT good, especially because of the cholera outbreak in Mzimba near-by-ish. They can’t get a borehole because the roads through the mountains won’t support the borehole-drilling truck. So that little project is high on my list. Also getting the District to fix my health center’s water tank and get them hooked up with electricity and maybe getting them an ambulance is up there.

-I also had a meeting with the secondary school headmaster who gave me math, biology, and life skills books to look at and start working on lesson plans for next term. I’ve never taught before. I’m nervous.

And that’s it for this week! Otherwise I’ve been camped out on my back porch attempting to cook and reading and half-heartedly studying up on Chitonga. I’m getting worse at the language. Awesome. Miss and love you all! Keep sending me mail! So far I’ve received 4 letters in 3 months. And none from my parents. They say that they’ve sent me stuff, but evidence points to the contrary. We went to the post office to talk up the postman and give him cookies so packages and letters will definitely get to me at this address:

Stacey Neilson

Private Bag 126

Mzuzu, Malawi

Southern Africa

Cinco De Mayo - Desperately Trying To Catch Up On This Blog Thing

So sorry! I’ve been literally non-stop for the last month. So, since my last post we finished our homestays, thank god, and moved back to the college for Spring Break 2011. It was a jolly good time. We then spent a week test-running our sites. My site is in Chikwina, a little town thing center of a bunch of little villages. I live across the "street" from the health center, which I initially wasn’t so keen on because I woke up the first morning to an under 5 [years-old] clinic happening in my front yard and was like "no thanks." And two of my neighbors have electricity and want all of Malawi to know it, so they keep their lights on ALL THE TIME and play their stereos as loud as possible ALL THE TIME. Literally, Justin Beiber at 2 am. My house is really nice. Its so nice its like I'm not even really in the Peace Corps. One of my friends just visited and said I live in america, just in africa. I'm wired for electricity (but dont have it b/c the company hasn't come in the last 2 yrs to hook it up) and I have running water (but not right now b/c the pipe is broken) and my brick house is super big with cement floors and too many guest rooms (two guest rooms, i dont know what to do with them, I really only need my bedroom and a place to store my food), I have a flushing toilet (when the water is on) and a shower[head] and the walls are painted. It was just built two years ago. Its super nice, but rereading what I just wrote it sounds like Africa, just in Africa. but regardless, I dont know what to do with it. So, I got a puppy on Monday. Doug. We're best friends already. He's about [______________________] this big. When the Malawians say his name it sounds like "dog." It’s extra funny because when they see me with him they immediately switch to English and say “dog,” which sounds like Doug, and he comes running, tail wagging a million beats per minute. Malawians don’t really like dogs. So, they turn and run as fast as they can to get away. Naturally, Doug thinks its playtime and has great fun chasing them at top speed, all the while my would-be Malawian friend is booking it, screaming the whole time. Really, its fun for all parties involved.

We're in Nkhata Bay right now so I can take him to the vet to get his shots. Traveling in Africa with a puppy was mostly hilarious. They don't think very highly of dogs here so having a white person cuddling up to a dog, picking him up and carrying him around and talking to him is the pinnacle of comedy for them. He’s travel size though, so it surprisingly easy to transport him. On the matola (flat-bed truck used as a shuttle) yesterday, which is the most squished I think I’ve ever been in my entire life, he just burrowed into the crook of my arm and slept the whole way.

ANYWAY, I met the guy I’m replacing, Jeremy, in Mzuzu so he could take me to site for my test-run visit. My site is BEAUTIFUL!!! Its kind of a pain in the ass to get to, its waaayyy in the Bush. And by wayyy i mean only like 20km from the tarmac, but transport is a pain in the ass. But its up in the mountains, which are too unbelievable to even try to describe, I don’t have the language for it. The neighborhood looks straight out of Mr. Rogers, the chief of one of the surrounding villages gave me Doug fo’ free and also a chicken, a pumpkin, and more avocados than I can eat. I have a great group of friends that the guy I'm replacing already made for me. There’s a core group of 5 of us, all single in their 20s and highly educated and westernized...so I AM kind of like living in America except just in Africa. Two are school teachers, one works at the health center with me, and one is an accountant for the coffee plantation co-op up the "street" from me. everything about my living situation is like, awesome. So it seems that I'm not having a very traditional peace corps experience, but on the other hand it'll be NO PROBLEM to keep this up for five, I mean, two years. I don’t think I could be better. Except I probably won’t get much better at the language. Everyone speaks English and the area is half Chitonga and half Chitimbuka speakers.... and everyone laughs at me anyways when I greet them in their language. OH! And a few days ago I walked into my exceedingly spacious living room to see a man in my front yard yelling at my house. I stood there thinking “sorry, I don’t speak that language” until I heard that he was saying in Enligsh “shut your front door! There is a large snake on your porch!” My front and back doors are always open, creates a tunnel of wind in my house. SO, I slammed the door and peered out the window to see how near death I was. Turns out a HUGE black cobra was in the process of slithering into my house. As some of the men chased it off into my backyard with rocks it reared its ugly black head and waved his scary big neck thing as if to say “see you soon, Stacey! Good luck clearing your yard to start your garden without me KILLING you!”

Then after our trial-run site visit we went to language intensive week, where me and 5 of some of my favorite people in the program who also happen to be learning Chitonga went to this little cottage on the lakeshore for a week and attempted to focus for more than five seconds on learning the language. We didn’t learn anything, but we had a LOT of fun drinking on the beach. Somehow I still managed to score Advanced Low on my LPI test (we needed to score at least Intermediate High, one step below my score, in order to swear in and move to site). And my birthday was epic. Every day that week felt like my birthday.

Ok, so after language intensive week, which was really just hanging out on the beach intensely for a week, we swore into the Peace Corps as full-fledged volunteers. That was surprisingly intense. After a bunch of important people spoke to us about the gravity of our commitment to our country they had us stand and swear a bunch of stuff about taking the oath voluntarily and without hesitation blahblahblah "so help me god." WHOA! oooook, that was overwhelming. Half the girls (myself included) were crying by the end of swearing our lives away. It was cool though, made it all feel a bit more real. Now we're "at site" as volunteers. But for the first three months (starting 6 days ago) we're not supposed to do anything but "integrate"...meh, i'll integrate next week. This week I'm in Nkhata Bay with my friends and my dog having a grand ol’ time! Today we go to Mzuzu to get paid and buy buckets. This is my life!!! Doug’s so cute!!!

K, you're officially caught up on the major bullet points. Come visit me. I’m having an extra bed made for one of my two extra bedrooms.