Patricia – She’s the ten-year-old girl who lives just next door at the Nurse’s house. The Nurse is her grandmother, and Patricia wants to grow up to become a nurse just like her. She’s actually my favorite of all the iwe’s, but don’t tell the rest of them that. She speaks English really well (for a Standard 4 student, that’s the year they start learning English in school) and likes to tell me what she’s learned at school that day. I actually didn’t really notice Patricia much until Robert came to visit a few months ago and commented that the girl next door seemed to really look up to me. She has a pretty good home life, upscale house with a steady income and a grandmother who is a solid influence (and intimidating, she scares the crap out of me). But her mother is working in South Africa and not around, I haven’t heard about any father, the only other woman in the house is her 17-year-old aunt (by marriage) with a 1½-year-old baby. She has an equally young husband (nurse’s son) who comes around sometimes, usually drunk and belligerent (just last week there was a massive scene in the middle of the night where he was high and beating everyone in the house. He broke their television and then slept through the next day). There’s also this other random guy who lives there. I don’t know his name and I’ve never heard him talk. I think there might be something up with his head, but he has good dental hygiene. I see him brushing his teeth every morning outside. Anyway, as far as I can tell, next to the nurse, Patricia is the sanest member of that household. In that light, it kind of makes sense that she would look up to me and my quiet household of almost-sanity and my appreciation for her help around the house. As the female iwe, it falls to her to do the washing and the cleaning and the household chores and all. It’s amazing that they can get the iwe’s to do all that stuff without complaining. I can’t imagine American kids carrying buckets of water on their heads every day without causing a fuss. But she does it, and then sometimes she’ll come over here and do it for me too. But at my house she gets candy out of the deal. She can often be found toting her 1½-year-old cousin, Junior, around.
Junior - He’s hands down the cutest kid in Africa with a toothy little dimpled smile that lights up the day. He’s my prime entertainment when I go outside. Everything he does is hilarious. He’ll spin in circles around the clothes line pole, he’ll squeal excitedly at chickens running past, he’ll play long-distance hide-and-seek with me, hiding behind his house peeking out while I’m hiding behind mine doing the same. My favorite is his outdoor bath time. Babies also bathe in buckets, except they do it in the yard (less clean-up involved). He’ll cry and scream when his teen mom washes him down and he’ll desperately try to escape his watery bucket imprisonment. But when she’s not looking he’ll jump up and down and splash and make vroom vroom noises and try to tip the bucket over. F’ing adorable.
Crispy – Patricia’s 7-year-old brother. Crispy is a surprisingly common Malawian name. It might actually be Chris B, but there’s no way of actually knowing. He’s a sweetheart, really, but he’s at an age where he’s starting to be too cool for stuff, like being personable to the Azungu next door. He’ll greet me, but he won’t look me in the face anymore, and he’s becoming increasingly shy with me. Sometimes he’ll forget that he’s too cool and I’ll find him on the porch with the rest of them or taunting Doug with a ball in my yard. He was one of the first to blush when I gave him praise for his drawing of a car a few months ago. He was so eager to please, but since then he’s been off-again-on-again. I actually think last time he was in my house he may have stolen a good handful of money off my table, showing off to his visiting cousin. I brought it up with the Nurse, who was receptive, but no dice. I wonder if that’s when he started to get weird with me…
Virginia – I think she’s about 11. She’s unbelievably beautiful and a perfect genetic mix of her mother and father. She’s the daughter of the Senior HSA (Health Surveillance A…something), who is technically my supervisor and lives two doors down. He’s the one who mostly spearheaded this Health Center building project we’re doing. She and Patricia are best friends, but it recent months I think Virginia has taken over as leader of their little neighborhood iwe pack. Her English isn’t great so I don’t know a lot about her, but she’s really helpful and sweet.
Chisomo – Virginia’s 2 or 3-year-old sister. Chisomo is a chubby rolly-polly kid, almost the size of her sister, who totes her around. Chisomo is kind of a cry-baby and likes to be taken care of, even though she’s one of the biggest ones, considering her age. Her sister definitely got the looks… But she’s also a sweetheart. She’s very shy but likes me a lot. She’s terrified of me and terrified of Doug up close, but get a few feet between us and she’s all smiles and waves. Chisomo’s first English words were “how are-a you?”, which she still asks me a hundred times in a row, like that knock knock joke in which the knock knocks just keep repeating themselves until you get an “orange you glad I didn’t say banana”. Sometimes I’ll get her punch line of “I’m fine” in her tiny little voice from across the safe distance of the yard, at which point she’ll start all over again. “How are-a you?!” She and Junior are best friends. They toddle everywhere together, flailing their little arms for balance and bouncing up and down on their chubby little legs when they have excess energy. They love when I come home from school. They are usually happily sitting in a pile of mud or sticks on the side of the road until I turn the corner. Then they’ll jump up and wave excitedly “Stacia! Stacia! How are-a you!?” Well, Chisomo does most of the talking, Junior is still getting the hang of his tongue. They’ll giggle uncontrollably and wave until I disappear into my house.
Martha – She lives with Mrs. Liz Usisya, the Hospital Attendant from across the road. Mrs. Usisya’s household is very confusing to me. She’s told me a few times, but I can never remember which kids are hers and which are other people’s. If Martha’s her kid, Martha would be the middle child. Yeah, I think that’s it. There’s her Standard 7 or 8 daughter, Ducas, who I don’t see very often, I think she runs in an older iwe pack in another part of the village. Then there would be Martha, who I think is about 10-years-old. Then there’s Precious, the 1-year-old daughter who was born almost the same time I came to country (which is pretty cool, I can watch a human grow who has been here the same amount of time I have). Sometimes there’s an older boy who is here, but I haven’t seen him in a good long time, and right now there’s also a younger boy, who hangs out a lot with Crispy, but I can’t remember his name. He’s also a sweetheart. Martha is really pretty too, and essentially fearless. She’s kind of like an African female version of Tom Sawyer. She takes care of herself, she’s not afraid of the scary foreigner (me), she’s a dare devil, and I don’t think she’s much for the rules. A real go-getter. But she’s also very nice and helpful. She’s the one whose sold me all of my chickens and also takes care of them for me because they’d rather live at her house than mine. Everyone knows Martha. I can walk through the villages and hear her being called from everywhere. “Martha!!!” Usually it’s a grownup calling for her very loudly, which I feel happened to Tom Sawyer a lot too.
Precious - As one of the best babies I’ve ever met, she also warrants a little paragraph in this post. She never cries and she’s very friendly and inquisitive. Whenever Martha brings her over, she is promptly dropped into my lap for play time (or to be babysat while the other kids play). She’s really cool, you can see her big eyes looking at you and figuring things out, learning how to react from your reactions to her. She’s the only one who is completely unafraid of Doug, and in fact, calls all dogs Doug. Well, she calls all dogs “Duh!” She likes to chew on his tail.
Chrisy – She’s the oldest daughter of my next-door neighbor, Chitani, another Hospital Attendant. He’s kind of like the handy-man janitor of the Health Center, and is always looking out for me and my house. He was most excited when I got electricity because my security lights outside light up his wife’s kitchen and his front yard. He’s also the only one in the neighborhood who comments on how rich I am compared to him, which makes me really uncomfortable. But he also always makes sure there are no snake holes in my garden and keeps the grasses cut outside so no snakes can hide there either. I’m sure it’s because he’s got three kids running around out there, but I appreciate it. Anyway, Chrisy is maybe 9. I’m not sure, she’s very small and age is almost impossible to tell here. They moved here about the same time I did and we were all new kids on the block together. So she’s just now warming up to me and realizing I don’t bite. She has this very calm and pleasant temperament with an exceptionally kind and patient smile. She’s actually really amazing. Her mother is constantly calling for her, to me it sounds like “Eli! Elisay!!” She’s the iwe that does all the work that her mother needs help with in her house. She also takes care of her two younger siblings. The youngest is constantly strapped to Chrisy’s back. The baby is a little under a year and just learning to toddle. The baby adores her siblings and copies their every move. Every spin, every fall, every giggle. It’s really sweet. I have a strange power over her though. Doesn’t matter how far away I am, I can smile and wave at her and she’ll go berserk, throwing a crying fit that will last for hours. My current record is about 20 feet. Chrisy’s brother is about 4, and in the top 5 of the cutest kids in Africa. I don’t know his name (scratch that, just learned his name is Gracious), he is still terrified of me and the #1 crybaby of the village. I can’t get within two feet of him without him dissolving into a puddle of tears. Every time he falls down or his sister is mean to him he’ll throw a fit. But I love watching him play. He likes a good puddle splash and he’ll spin in circles until he falls down. He idolizes cars. He can turn anything into an imaginary car. I have a log outside in my front yard that he pretends to drive. He has a wide array of car sounds he can make. His noise-of-choice right now is a high-pitched “mee mee!” He’ll load his friends behind him in his favorite game of “mini bus”, ask them where they’re going and demand they agree to his price. He is the picture of youthful innocence and it’s obvious he’s the heart of that family. His mother adores him. I can tell even with the language and our front yards between us.
Wisdom – He’s my counterpart, Anna’s, almost-4-year-old son. Best friends with Chitani’s son. Wis has always been really shy with me and won’t speak to me directly. But occasionally he’ll show up at my door and wander around my house for a while. He’s afraid of Doug but tries not to let on. He’ll hide behind Anna’s legs and poke Doug in the nose repeatedly saying “iwe” each time. I think it’s his attempt at breaking the ice. He’s more of a cat person. He’ll follow the kitten around crouched down with his little hands outstretched trying to catch her and pet her. She’s always just out of reach… Wisdom is showing early signs of being a highly competent hip hop dancer. He’ll dance in front of Anna’s tv or on a chair, which he always wants turned to the music videos channel or an old-school poorly-dubbed karate movie.
See!!! I’ve made friends in Malawi! They’re just all under the age of 12 and half of them are afraid of me…
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