Malawi illuminated!

"CLTS yabweretsa mgwirizano"- CLTS has brought togetherness

Monday, August 16, 2010

but it's alright ma, it's life and life only.



I left the village this morning. Holy shit. Hardest thing I’ve ever done. What a mess of indescribable feelings I have grumbling around in my stomach. It’s a mixture of- unbelievably sad about leaving monica, absolute freedom, lifted containment from being in man’s household, sad about not being able to see Edina and Thomas grow up, and depressed that I’m losing my community.

This morning, I packed up all my stuff. I layed it all out on the bed and decided what I was going to leave behind for the fam- headlamp, work shirts, work shoes, extra toothbrushes, books. I cried and cried as I was packing. Pearson came to tell me something and saw me crying and I made him uncomfortable. Monica quietly swept, washed the dishes and cooked breakfast. Every once in a while popping her head in and saying “Sindikondwera” (I am not happy). This has been the phrase of the last three days. Her and Pearson don’t deal with sadness the way I deal with it, which is to pretend it’s not there and try to distract myself by talking about and doing other things. They’ve been bringing up that I’m leaving every hour for the last three days and I just couldn’t deal with it. I’ve had to keep from crying every time they said it. This morning Monica said “at 2 oclock Thomas is going to say “where is Kate? Maybe she’s at the hospital” at 6 oclock “where is Kate? Maybe she’s at the boma” one week “where’s Kate?” Man. it is so freaking sad that I’m leaving these folks behind. I wish I could stay with them forever.

Everyone knows how much I love tea, so we’ve had late night tea parties every night for the last week. It’s really strange to drink tea in the evening in my village, and every time you drink tea you need to have it with bread so it’s quite an expensive event. But we’ve all pitched in and it’s been ridiculously fun and well worth it. Pearson has been going to the market with his friends at night lately, so the women have been coming over for a cup and then going back to their homes. Me and monica have stayed up late chatting most nights. All of the women came over last night for tea and it was wicked. By the end of the night, most of us were falling asleep because we didn’t want it to end.

They all came over this morning and walked me to the truck today. They carried my luggage on their heads and we walked as a woman clan. Along the way I said goodbye to every house. They all asked me how I was and if I was leaving and when I’d be back. I said goodbye to every elder and all my friends. I said goodbye to all the old people knowing that they’d all be dead by the time I came back to the village. I cried the entire time and Monica talked for me. The walk was terribly sad and long. I kept telling myself that everything ends and this is just a part of growing up. Loving people and leaving people. I’m far too sensitive for this kind of goodbye.

We got to the market and loaded my stuff on the back of a truck. I cried and hugged everyone goodbye. By the time I had hugged everyone, I looked at everyone one last time and saw that most of us were fighting tears. I found comfort in this and cried some more. I hugged monica a second time and jumped on the truck. They walked away and when the truck rolled away they turned around for one last wave.

I never ever anticipated how hard it would be to leave.

Once again. Trying to think about how much Canada rocks.

Love kate

resolution.

Today is my last day of work. All week, I’ve been doing lasts of a lot of things. I’ve broken them down into Levels of Sadness.

Level 3- It’s cool, I got thick skin.
go to the “Photo Plaza” to charge my computer
see Monica’s brother
bring bubblegum home for the kiddies
go to the Post Office
bike to Chiputu
be in a meeting where everyone is speaking Chichewa and I have nothing to contribute
peel potatoes on the front porch

Level 2- Man, that’s a real bummer.
bike the path to the hospital and see all the kiddies
sleep in my bed and see the sunrise creep onto my wall
come home at lunch to see the ladies
go to the tea room before work
say good morning to Mr. Zulu and Katole at the hospital
carry water on my head from the borehole

Level 1- I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk.
wash dishes with Edina
hold Thomas on the front porch and watch the sunset
cook nsima in the smokehouse with Annette
make Monica laugh when I tell her I don’t want to bathe (she finds my bathing habits hilarious- it’s too cold, I’ll shower tomorrow morning. I don’t want to right now, I’ll shower in the afternoon. I’m very late Monica, I’ll shower this evening. It’s too dark Monica, I’ll shower tomorrow)
watch Lenesia and Edina dance and play and cry and laugh together
hang out with quiet Penina
have a conversation with Pearson in choppy English
see Pearson’s unpredictable smile
hear Monica say “Kay-teee” or “Ay-yah” when I do something good
have late night chats with Monica while we take turns holding Thomas
Monica telling me family secrets or village gossip or things that I’m not allowed to tell Pearson
have a sugar cane or tea party after dinner
look up into the sky and see not stars, but galaxies

To ease the pain, I’ve been thinking of things that I’m looking forward to in Canada. I’m stoked to hug my family, drive to Manitoulin and see the rocks and trees of “Northern Ontario”, drive down Grandmas lane as Tugs (my dog) starts hysterically running around the car because he knows where we are, look out at Treasure Island from the cottage with the family, play the piano at grandmas, go for a walk in grandmas field, sit around the big table with everyone for a massive delicious Manitoulin dinner, clear the table and bring out the coffee, play Rook, listen to Meg and Uncle John/Dad or Logan get into a political debate (usually started by some comment about her vegetarianism), see Tony, drink a delicious stout, wear comfortable (and likely very dirty) clothes, cook my own meals, go out after dark and feel safe, dance with Meg and Bronwyn, do homework with Katy/Madavine/Gerrit/Sondus/Tony. The list goes on.

I guess love isn’t finite. Because I love home and I love Malawi and the more people I meet the more I love them all. I guess leaving is just a part of life. Last night, Pearson said that my leaving is just like I’m dying. Which I guess is very true. It’s hard to accept that I’ll never see these folks again. Monica has become one of my closest friends and it really sucks that I might not ever see her again.

One of the first things I did when I arrived in Mkanda was go with Mr. Katundu, Chunga and Pearson to the Police Station and the Traditional Authority’s (TA) office. He told them all that my mission here was a sanitation project but also to learn and live the Malawian culture. I’ve named this blog resolution because, just like how a song starts and ends on the same chord, my placement will. Today, Pearson is taking me to the Police Station and the TAs office to tell them I am leaving. I’m sure he’ll tell them how last night I cooked nsima for the family, this morning I fetched water and did the dishes, and I might even speak a little Chichewa.

I only have two days left in the village. I’m trying to stay cool about it. I really didn’t think it would be this difficult to leave. I know that it’ll be fine once I leave but we’re all trying to get the most out of the days leading up to the departure.

Love kate

shit.

note: In the spirit of CLTS, I have used profanity on purpose.

Because it’s my last week in the village, we’ve been staying up a little later than usual to chat. Last night might have been the latest night yet.

I think it was about 8:30 and I was ready for bed so I said my goodnights and headed to my room. I did what I usually do; I grabbed some toilet paper and my cell phone (functioning as a flashlight) and walked out to the latrine hoping that I don’t step on a toad.

I got to the chimbudzi (latrine in Chichewa), turned on my phone light, inspected all the corners for snakes or other various Malawian wildlife and then carried on my way. I stood up and next thing you know, the cell phone slipped out of my hand. I did a clumsy juggle from one hand to the next and watched it fall to the ground and bounce right into the hole. It landed at the bottom of the latrine with a smack.

I stared down at my phone, on the pile of shit and maggots, saw it staring at me and watched the interface light turn off. I grabbed my head, pulled my hair, stared down at the phone and laughed harder than you can even imagine.

I walked to the house laughing out of complete disbelief. All summer I’ve been terrified of dropping something in that hole, and of all things to drop, I dropped my connection to the outside world. I basically watched my family and friends fall onto a pile of shit. So I walk into the house laughing hysterically and Pearson, still sitting in the eating room, and Monica, coming out of the bedroom wearing only a bra and a skirt (preparing to go to bed), looked at me wanting to know what on earth was going on. I said “Pearson, I dropped my cell phone in the latrine”. Immediately Monica starts laughing, I’m already laughing, and Pearson looks at me seriously for a second and then I watched an embarrassing laugh sneak onto his face.

After the laughing faded out (obviously not completely, the laughter continued for the next hour and a half) Pearson grabbed a couple plastic bags and put his hands into them. Monica got him some elastic bands and he put them around his wrists, securing the plastic bags against his skin. I couldn’t believe he was going to try to save it, especially in the dark. The three of us were crowded at the door eager to see the phone and, looking like he had two balloons on his hands, Pearson turned to me and smiled. More laughing. More laughing.

We all walked out to the latrine together with Pearson’s cell phone as our light. We ran out of batteries in my headlamp a couple days ago, so Monica walked over to the neighbours, told them what happened and asked to borrow their flashlight. Pearson and I waited in the latrine for her to come back and we could hear the neighbours laughing.

She came back and Pearson took charge with the flashlight. You would never believe how the three of us crowded around that hole hoping to see the cell phone sitting at the top. Unfortunately, by the time we got out there, the cell phone had sunk to the bottom of the latrine. Probably 8 feet below the hole.

Pearson then told Monica to go and get a cup from the house. We step outside the latrine and stand there waiting for Monica and Pearson starts says “Katie, you are too young.” More laughing. More laughing.

Monica came back and then Pearson went and got two long branches and another elastic band. We all went back into the latrine and then he took one stick and put it down the hole. I was still laughing, but by now I think the tone switched over to serious because, well, Pearson was digging through shit to find my phone. He poked around for at least 10 minutes and then turned and fashioned himself a scoop by attaching the cup to the end of the other stick with the elastic band. I told him that I think we should give up because it’s late and we can’t see anything but he said “I see it”. I couldn’t believe it. More laughing.

So he took the scoop and put it down the hole and continued digging. The whole time Monica stood above him and held the flashlight. Pearson looked like he was performing dental surgery and Monica was wearing only a chitenge (wrapped around her in a towel kind of way which is totally scandalous in Malawi). I was sitting in the corner, hugging my knees and staying out of the way. I was so thankful this didn’t happen at the beginning of my placement. I was seriously witnessing a candid and memorable moment in their marriage.

I was ready to give up because I convinced myself that the phone wouldn’t work anyways, and then Pearson said “Let’s go” and took the cup out of the latrine with the cell phone in it. How he did it, I’ll never know.

He told me and Monica to gather some sand and we made a pile. He spilled the phone and the rest of the cups contents into the pile of sand and rubbed it around for about 30 seconds. Then he started kicking my phone in the sand and gave it quite the beating. At some point during the royal sand treatment, he pressed something and the phone lit up. It actually worked. I howled at this point. Howled with laughter. Not at all aware that the neighbours were asleep. But seriously man, this is one of the funniest situations I have ever been in.

So the phone works. He then spent the next 15-20 minutes washing the phone with various cobs of husked maize. He would dip the cob into a cup of water and scrub. This was the perfect sponge because it was rough enough to scrape the crevices and disposable enough to wash shit off of a phone. While he was doing this, I said “Pearson, when I leave, you can have my phone.” This made him very happy.

The phone was pretty much clean so we went into the house and Pearson took off the cap on the back to see if the SIM card and battery were in danger of getting wet. They were totally fine. Aside from the maggot crawling on the SIM card, it was dry and the phone was functioning. We gave it one last wipe with an old sock and I took the phone into my room to recover.

This morning, after gently washing it one more time it’s as good as new.

Lesson learned: don’t use your cell phone as your latrine light. Also, Pearson and Monica rock.

Love kate

no money, mo' problems.

I’m nearing the end of my work placement, and I’m looking back and realizing that my work has been nothing but problems all summer. I’ve had a terribly difficult time working in Mkanda with the Task Force. I fan through my journal and see “working here sucks but living is amazing” “I hate my placement” “I came to work but people are busy” “I don’t know how to get motivated.”

By arriving at a time without funding, I spent a month doing make work projects. Because all members of the task force are volunteering to be on the task force, they have other jobs (head teacher, community development assistant, health surveillance assistants) and are all extremely busy. CLTS was at the back of everyone’s mind until July 8 when funding came through. I set up a handful of one-on-one meetings to learn about CLTS but nobody was straight up enough to tell me what was actually going on.

I did a survey to gather the perspectives of the field workers and people dug that because it was keeping me busy. It was extremely useful for me to learn how the program works here and what some of the issues are, but the minute I finished the survey I realized there are absolutely no resources to deal with any of these issues. A little disheartening.

The training/trigger was coming up so I held a session on training. I really thought that I could add some value to the trigger event because this was the purpose of my placement- improving CLTS implementation. 4/10 people showed up. Lesson learned- nobody really cares. I thought that it was useful , but the chairperson went ahead with the event without training and without consulting the others. Once again- a completely pointless exercise.

The trigger event happened without any preparation. I shared with the chairman of the task force that 50+% of the facilitators expressed that they need more training in the survey and why don’t we do it if we have the funding for it and he was stubborn and closed minded, saying that it’s not their responsibility to train. This event taught me a lot about the personalities within the task force.

Activities started and ended with that trigger event. We waited for over a month for funding, haphazardly held a trigger event and then had to wait for more funding to do the rest of the program. Total drag. My motivation hit the ditch after this.

I was really staying positive at the beginning of my placement, but half way through I realized that CLTS is a scam (a future post on this) and that my coworkers don’t care and since then I have struggled finding motivation. I tried to be of use to a dormant program and spent a lot of time meeting with Task Force members and members of the District to keep them accountable to their deadlines but they just don’t care. They often literally laughed at me.

Right now, I’m doing an evaluation of CLTS in T/A Mkanda. They say that we are the best at CLTS in Malawi but I haven’t seen anyone doing any kind of assessment in my time here. I’ve seen the monitoring forms get collected and stored away in a town without electricity or the means to run any kind of analysis. The district certainly isn’t collecting the data (the district isn’t doing much). Why are we the best? Why is this message being sent out there if it’s based on nothing? Sure we’ve triggered 397 villages but what does that mean if villages aren’t being declared Open Defecation Free? I’m hoping that (refer to blog: “don’t get your hopes up”) some analysis of the program will motivate the District and Task Force to stop triggering and start thinking about the quality of their program.

Story short. I loved living here and hated working here. I keep thinking “What could I have done differently?” but there were times that I was just so utterly demotivated, I couldn’t have done it. I just couldn’t find the energy to figure out what I needed to do and I certainly didn’t have the energy to do it. I’m trying to change my attitude and say “I did the best I could in this circumstance”. I’ll be honest and say that part of me is relieved that I don’t have to nag people anymore, and the rest of me is exceptionally bummed out that these lazy people are the Malawian government.

Love kate

Monday, August 2, 2010

work woes.

I’ve been feeling demotivated with work lately for two reasons 1) because of the way the triggering event went down and 2) because we’re waiting for follow up money to come in and it’s been two weeks since the triggers.

It could have been so great.

I went to the district assembly’s office to urge them to bring the money and forms (which has actually been released, they just won’t drive it to Mkanda) but the head honcho boss, District Water Officer, won’t do it. There is money for fuel and he has a car for this purpose but he just won’t come here. I feel like the 66 villages we triggered last week haphazardly have completely forgotten the trigger meeting now that there haven’t been any follow ups for 14 days.

Sometimes I feel like, under these circumstances, we can’t make any change at the field level. The District Water Officer (government level) just doesn’t care about CLTS and money isn’t coming anytime soon. My time’s almost up and the program is stagnant because of delayed funding. This isn’t even the fault of the task force, this is the fault of the District Water Officer-the government! The volunteers are rockin’ out in Mkanda!

Documentary Project
To make up for work woes, I’ve been focusing on my documentary project.
My project is to get the life story of 10 Malawians on video. So far, I’ve interviewed 4 and the interviews have averaged 45 minutes. Sadly, under my time restriction and language limitation, I’ve only been interviewing English speaking Malawians, which means that my demographic is educated Malawians. I would love so much to get the life stories of some of my village friends on tape, but it just seems impossible considering my electrical and language limitations.

I’m really excited about this project and it’s been helping me deal with my lack of influence at work.

These are two of the people I’ve interviewed. Frank and his gaggle of grandchildren and Viscia with her two sons.





I can’t wait for you to meet these people on youtube!

Love kate

photo moto.

Hey dudes!

I found fast internet so it's time for another photo update!



This is a choir practice in the village. I tend to go to a lot of choir practices because I love them so much but can’t actually participate because I don’t know the lyrics. However I know one song-

Towee yatsala pang’ono, (the time is short)
Olendila jesus, (to be received by jesus)
Lembe lero ku mwamba (today we go to heaven)

I think they’re sick of me singing it but it’s better than Malawian pop music (Mal-POP) which we also sing quite a lot.



This is my main mode of transport from Mkanda to the boma. Sometimes I get a pickup, rarely a minibus, but the best days are when you score a lorrie because it’s roomy and a lot higher than a regular vehicle so you get a nice view of the Malawian hills.



Some kidaboos playing around in the maize. I was having the worst day in the history of being in Malawi and I came home early from work because I knew my family would make it all better. We ended up having an incredible time shelling maize and I completely forgot about everything except how much I love these people.



It's common to light fires in fields here and that evening (after maizing it all day), the kids took a match and lit the pile of husks in the back yard. As you can see, the fire was epic and children are far too close to it because they are immune to heat.



The ladies don't look too happy but shortly before this photo was taken, I was having a tickle war with them and they were wrestling each other for knee rights. Something about a camera makes Malawians wipe the smile from their face, even three year olds.



Hahahaha. I bought a small bag of lollipops for the kids and one afternoon I gave them to Lene and Edina and then figured since I want one and I'm not a kid, the women probably want one too. So I brought them out and we enjoyed lollipops on the porch with the village as our scenescape. Little things like this are such luxuries.



SUPERHEROES. Nuf' said.

Until next time,
love kate

she used to be grumpy, she did.

Edina’s brain is the HADRON collider- a winding tunnel inside her skull with grumpy protons accelerating in opposite directions. It’s July 6th. The particles collide. The lens clicks. I inspect the image and there it is.

Just as physicists have been chasing the HB’s existence, I have been working tirelessly to make Edina smile. Nothing noticeable changed in our life but I woke up one day and Edina was in a good mood. Perhaps the grumpy protons collided and a happy particle resulted. Whatever it is, she’s been happy ever since and I’m nothing short of stoked because I was getting quite tired of her Beethoven scowl.

I present to you... happy Edina!





Love kate

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Owen, my electromagnetic friend.

I met Owen on the road two weeks ago, not far from my point of departure. People stop me all the time. “I can see you are strange. I want to know you.” This guy is super tall, with big white buck teeth and is usually dressed in a stylish sweater vest or snazzy wool sweater. He speaks incredible English and he told me it’s because he’s from Zimbabwe, whose English curriculum (and education system) is one of the best in his opinion.

He’s a physical sciences teacher at a private school down the road. I’ve met a handful of physical sciences teachers and I love them because we can chat about integrals, elements, pollution, climate change- you name it- and they love it just as much as I do. Turns out, this guy was educated in aviation electronics and specialized in radio communication. Said he wishes he could teach only teach about radios. I asked him to tell me everything he knows about radios, because I’m a little bit obsessed myself.

We chatted for at least 30 minutes (being late for work is not out of the ordinary for me). Me throwing questions at him and him enthusiastically answering, dumbing down the vocabulary and concepts so I could hang on. He told me he has a book that I should read and that he’d drop it off for me.

I biked to work that morning with enough energy from that conversation to carry me through the entire day.

He showed up at my work the next day with a folder in hand. He told me he couldn’t find the book and then pulled out three double sided hand written pages explaining the basics of radio technology full of labeled block diagrams- all from memory. I was taken aback. He’s an absolute gem.

The other day I was hanging out at home with the kiddies and he showed up at my house and we chatted on the porch for over an hour talking about Zimbabwe’s education system/economy/industries/land rights, Mugabe, Botswana’s diamonds, South Africa’s unfriendliness (in his opinion), his family, his dreams. We seriously hung out. He came to my work yesterday with seven more pages of notes on radio technology. He’s officially my bro.

He’s living with his aunt and uncle right now about 7 kilometres from Mkanda (where he teaches). He bikes 7km to and from work every day. He got hired at this private school but the headmaster has failed to pay the teachers in over 2 months now because his tobacco crops didn’t do well on the auction floor. The students pay K3000 per term (3 months per term), there are 90 students and the teachers are supposed to receive K60000 per month. The economics don’t even make sense. With that model, the headmaster wouldn’t even be able to pay two teachers without losing money. I think he’s “employing” four.

Owen wants to move to Blantyre in September, when the school year finishes, and start a business manufacturing and selling electronic school bells. This would be tremendously beneficial because the children run all over the place, sometimes return, sometimes don’t and sometimes people forget to ring the bell to get back to class. All of the bells are electronic is Zimbabwe and he says Malawi is chaotic. He’s such a smart man. I’m sure he’ll do it and become a rich man.

I’ve made so many friends here! When I think about leaving, I have to fight back the tears. I have no idea how I’ll be able to leave my folks in the village. I’m so happy I didn’t move to the boma. My Chichewa has improved and as a result, my relationships have become so much deeper. Monica, my host mom who is actually more like my host sister because she’s only 23, and I are like two peas in a pod. After almost two months, people see me as a person now and not a whitie.

I’m going to leave this place kicking and screaming, or crying my face off. Probably the latter.

Love kate

my first workshop.

hello out there!

I’ve done this post point form because work isn’t the most interesting topic to some folks.

-I conducted a survey at the beginning of my placement and found that 54% out of 46 CLTS facilitators I surveyed would like more training.

-I also attended a training/triggering event in another town (within the “star CLTS district”) and was disappointed with the quality of training and triggering. It made me worry about the quality of CLTS in the Malawi, especially because we are soon scaling up from 12 districts to 16.

-I was very excited because the budget was approved with a 3 day trigger event which includes one day for reviewing principles. In other words, there was money to conduct another training for the CLTS facilitators.

-I conducted a workshop with the task force to help them strategize and plan for the training. My objectives were:
1. To reflect on experiences and observations from the past to determine what makes training and triggering successful
2. To give the Task Force space to be thoughtful about their role in successful CLTS training and triggering
3. Share resources for proper training, triggering and reflection practices
4. Prepare and plan for the next three days

-Only 4/10 members of the task force attended my workshop. Major bummer.

-On the bright side, the workshop was awesome. Everyone had a great time and learned a lot. One comment on a feedback form was “It has been helpful since we have a scope of what to do”. Other comments were “very comfortable and conducive atmosphere for discussion” and at my next workshop I should ask “more good questions”. I felt like my workshop gave the task force the time and space to plan for a training that would be worthwhile and result in quality triggering.











-I wish I could end this post on that positive note. However, the triggering event didn’t go as planned. The chairperson of the task force had a different schedule in mind and without consulting the task force, he advised the facilitators to go into the field without adequate preparation. In his opinion, it is not the task force’s responsibility to retrain and would have been a waste of money. The quality of triggers cannot be known until the follow ups have been completed.

-I learned a lot about the dynamics within the task force last week. Up until now, the task force has impressed me with their dedication, organization and planning skills. This event has opened my eyes to the power and trust relationships, decision making processes and the effect that communication challenges in an area without electricity or proper cell phone coverage can have on the success of a development program. Part of my role as a Junior Fellow is to understand some of these relationships/challenges and share them with Jolly Ann, who is working on CLTS at the government level, so that she can have a field level understanding of what’s going on.

-I certainly learned that it’s easy to hold a workshop but unless the enabling environment is there, it is entirely useless.

-Right now, I’m working on a database. Yes, I know. White kid from Canada makes another database to be filed away forever, never to be used again. But my objective is to input all the information from follow up forms in my region, draw some simple conclusions (number of villages triggered vs. number of ODF villages, areas with the most successful program, which trainings resulted in the best triggers, etc), show them to the task force and base a CLTS program reflection session off of the numbers. It seems people are failing to recognize the faults of the program and the numbers might “trigger” implementers into realizing that the quality needs to improve.

If you want to know more about my work, shoot me an email. I’d be stoked to share more. I'm really getting into the thick of it.

Love kate

Monday, July 12, 2010

in the village on the weekend.

hey dudes!

i found wireless internet in the boma today and spent the last 4 hours uploading this video. it's not a great video- just me mixing up the names of the kids next door and speaking english out of habit. It was more of an experiment for future video posts.



have a great week!
love kate

mousey, my furry companion.

I’ve got a friend, he sleeps with me
Takes rest in my hair and on my knee
I wish I could say he was my spouse
But sadly, he is a mouse.

I hear him in the rafters and on the floor
Sometimes he eats the sugar, then he eats some more
I still don’t know how he gets into my net
But I’m proud to call him my pet

My family buys mice, boiled and dried
They bite the heads right off, I can hear the mice cry
They offer it up, I say I’m a herbivore
I think of mousey and it makes me sore

I wish I could stand for the freedom of the mice
I’d say “mice, one and all, the humans aren’t nice,
Beware of their tactics they’ll getcha! It’s true!”
I just hope mousey escapes the chew.

collecting firewood.

On Sunday, I went with my host mother to collect firewood. I was pretty excited because I’ve seen women everywhere walking on the road carrying wood on their head, but I didn’t know the process of collecting it. Monica strapped Thomas on her back, grabbed the rusty machete and said “tipita”. We are going. We picked up her friend on the way and started walking.

So I trucked behind them (chitenge is so annoying to walk in because it limits your step size) carrying the machete and keeping to myself while they spoke Chichewa. We walked for about 20 minutes, beyond the village and towards farmland. Every once in a while, Monica would point to a piece of land and say the name of one of the children in the village. Now I know where all the children will live and farm long after I’m gone.

We arrived on a piece of land belonging to the friend and walked deeper and deeper into the field. Most of the fields have small parts cleared for a garden and the rest is wild weeds, trees, bushes and random vegetation. We walked to that part. “Ndichita mantha njoka” – I am afraid of snakes, I told them. They laughed and said there were none but I knew they were probably lying just to make me feel better. Moms do that.

We got to a nice spot full of trees and Monica gave me Thomas. Turns out, I came along just to babysit. I sat with Thomas (singing him wolf parade) and watched as they huffed and puffed and cut down trees with their rusty machetes. At one point Thomas was hungry so I gave him to Monica and took the machete. I didn’t think it would be that hard.

I grabbed the branch with my left hand, the machete with my right and drove it down into the crevice where the trunk becomes a limb.

I didn’t know the tree had thorns.

I drove a thorn right into my left thumb and tried to hide my pain. It started bleeding pretty bad and I covered it with my sweater so the ladies wouldn’t notice. I guess I was trying to hide that I am after all, a wimpy Canadian. I was pretty happy to be the babysitter after that.

I strapped Thomas on my back when they were finished, they piled the wood into bundles, tied it with a strip of fresh bark off of a tree, loaded it on their heads and we walked back to the house. Let me tell you! Malawians are masters of finding the center of gravity. I have a much greater appreciation for firewood now.

Muzagona kutali ndi moto- you must sleep far from the fire,
Love kate!

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

I give bear hugs.

I am sitting in my office at the health centre in Mkanda and there is a kid sitting on the floor wearing a filthy ripped shirt that says “I give bear hugs”.

So much has happened since we last talked and I’m struggling with where to begin.
I’ve returned from the summer retreat feeling revitalized, motivated and focused. I love living here, but I gotta say, four days of hanging out with English speaking Canadians was necessary for my soul. We had long work days and I stayed up all night almost every night surrounded by loved ones, singing familiar songs by the fire. This was one of many times this summer I have been at the peak of happiness.

In Depth Update



This is my map of myself these days. The categories are: home, work, Canada, aha moments and self. If you can zoom in somehow you’ll be able to see where I’m at. I’d say generally, I’m doing fantastic. I’m super happy, I love my host family, I’m reading a tonne, eating great food but I’m in a phase now where I’m identifying some of the things that are making me unhappy/unmotivated and figuring out how to change them. I don’t want this post to seem like I’m complaining because I’m not; I just want to paint a balanced picture of life as a short term EWB volunteer.

Self
I’m loving life. I’m reading on the walk to and from work every day which brings buckets of joy to my life. When I’m in school I can’t recreationally read so I’m pounding back the fiction while I’m here. I’m so happy I didn’t bring books about development or physics. When I’m not reading, I’m writing letters or journaling or blogging and I’m realizing how much I love it.

Family- My experience here has given me a new perspective on family and I’m looking forward to coming home and spending some serious time with my folks. I wish I had the opportunity, like I do here, to sit down with my family every night and shoot the shit about nothing, which is actually everything.

Staying in the moment- I rarely feel bummed out because I’ve semi-learned how to snap out of it. I am in Malawi for 3 short months and this is it! Who knows if I’ll ever have another opportunity to come here and spend time with these beautiful people? I am really trying to be here while I’m here, not wishing I was at that festival with my friends or on the dock with my family. I know that in no time at all, I’ll be living in Canada and thinking about my time here and I’ll be kicking myself if I wasn’t the mentally here while I was physically here.

Home Life
So my situation is really good. I haven’t experienced anything horrific like some volunteers of the past. I have my own room, a loving family and I am well fed. I just want to share with you some of the things that are getting in the way of perfection.

Electricity- At first this was a major adjustment. I would fantasize about having an electrical outlet. Then, I identified the true problem as my phone because I got ripped off and the battery only lasted 15 minutes (which was extremely disheartening). I bought a new phone (the battery lasts 3 days!) and I’ve decided to charge my computer regularly. I’ve worked out that I need 8 hours of electricity every week to be truly happy.

Freedom- I’m living in a man’s household which means I am abiding by the man’s rules. It is very different from being a 21 year old Canadian girl who’s been living on her own for four years. I can’t be out past sunset which limits my adventure time and social time. If I want to explore, I must have a male escort with me at all times. Sometimes, Pearson is even surprised when I go somewhere in the daytime without a male escort. I have now acquired male friends so hopefully I’m going to start living a little more.

Work/Project


Definition of work- I love outputs. I’m an output kinda gal. I like starting a project, finishing it and having something printed at the end of the day. I guess this is the problem with development because it’s common to love outputs and progress cannot always be written in some report or quantified. I was waiting for funding for a while and conducted a survey during that time (output) and now I’m wondering what the heck can I do with the results? What resources do we have to deal with the challenges brought up in the survey? I now have a good idea of what’s going on in the area and now I only have 7 weeks to deal with it. Holy smokes. I am overwhelmed.

White man- I am a 21 year old white engineering student from Canada which brings me down sometimes. Where do I fit in the sanitation scheme in rural Malawi? I have really been trying to identify my strengths and the value that I can add to this program. I have recognized that I’m good at facilitating, in my time with EWB I’ve learned how to do good reflection and I am a good planner. I made a sweet work plan for myself in the next 7 weeks and I have interspersed the task force’s schedule with review meetings, workshops and reflection sessions. I will be planning my sessions to be as participatory as possible so that we can all learn from each other as opposed to me lecturing.

CLTS- There are some obvious challenges with CLTS in my region. I’m questioning its scale up and the resources available for the program. I have been thinking a lot about the importance of training and follow ups and wish I could stay here longer to see CLTS become more successful. We can talk more about this when I get home and when I have a more educated and diverse opinion about CLTS Malawi.
Workspace- as I mentioned before…babies crying all the time.

Oh Canada!

Chapter- I feel pretty good about this on my side. I’ve been writing you all letters (waiting for addresses- ) and I hope my blog has been engaging you in my placement. I know the chapter is in summer mode so I understand if my placement isn’t on the top of your priority list, but please know that you’re at the top of mine. Many days, I don’t have meetings or work to do so I spend it writing to you or planning the education sessions we’ll have next year. If you’re reading this, take a minute and check out your expectations of me. Shoot me an email and give me feedback on how I can meet them better.

Def tone- you’re a shining star, tony. Thanks for being so supportive.

Family- You can call me anytime between the hours of 9am-2pm. I’ll be awake and my phone is usually charged up.

Aha! Moments

The education system brings me down- I don’t know too much about it but it frustrates me that most of the textbooks are in English when a typical Malawian becomes fluent in English at a grade 11 level. It’s just an extra barrier to learning when it’s not in the local language. It also upsets me that attending school is only semi-disciplined.

Opportunity- There is not opportunity to get a loan here or capital if you wanted to go to school or start a business. Many people are unemployed and women don’t work. One day I was sitting on the reed mat with the ladies shelling groundnuts and I realized that they will do this every day for the rest of their lives. People seem happy in their day to day but I wonder how satisfied they are with their lives and I wonder about their dreams and ambitions. I asked Monica if she likes Malawi and she said no. She told me the only thing she likes about Malawi is the food and the reason she doesn’t like it is because there’s no money. I have a better idea of what it means to be a developing country now. The education system needs development, there are no jobs, there are shitty roads, no garbage collection/awareness of sanitation. Holy smokes. I am overwhelmed.

Humanity- People want stuff. People love technology. People will want bigger, better and faster technology and those without it will feel left behind. Technology is seen as prosperity around here. I wish people could be satisfied with the little things. It saddens me when people fail to recognize the value of community. They tell me how Canada is better and I can hardly explain to them that most people in Canada are addicted to electronics, their social skills are eroding and we don’t spend time with our families. I wish there could be a balance between technology and community.

Self- I’ve been thinking a lot lately about whether development work is for me and if this is something that I want to pursue in my future. The systems are so messed up! Engineers are all about systems! I always thought this is what I wanted my life to be and I’m wondering now if I have the right skills for it, if my strengths and personality is best suited for a life in development. I’m learning that I’m a super systematic, organized, output driven thinker and development doesn’t align with most of those qualities. What will I be? This is a tough question looming in my mind with only one year of education left…

That's about where I'm at. Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear where you're at. Email me anytime and I guarantee a response. Perhaps not immediate, but a response will come your way!

love kate!

finally. some. photos.

hey dudes!
I finally got my camera to work. I'll let the pictures tell the story.


This is my family. Minus the girl on the left and the guy second from the right. Pearson is in the middle, Monica is holding Thomas and Edina is sitting on the far right, grumpy as usual.


Monica and Thomas. Monica is always laughing like this. Thomas, at 3 weeks, still looks fresh out of the womb. Maybe by the time I leave, he’ll start looking less like an alien and more like a human.


Monica joking around with Pearson in the morning.


Edina. Argh. Edina. She gives me this stink eye every time I look at her. She can be laughing and then she sees me and her face quickly changes to this. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve this. I even bring her biscuits when I feel like it.


Annettie and Monica. I like this picture because Annettie is losing her mind laughing. I don’t know if I’ve told you about her smile yet, but man! it makes me so happy when she laughs.


I was following Thomas around yesterday because he looked so cute in his bear suit. He gives bear hugs.


This is me with Thomas strapped on my back. Babies don’t wear diapers around here so this was one of the few times he didn’t pee all over me. I limit my holding time to less than 10 minutes to reduce my chances of getting peed on.



The girls next door. Left, Middle, Right: Jesse, Lenesia and Penina. Lene is my bestie. She runs up to me every time I come home and walks around saying my name all the time. She sits on my knee most days when I come home for lunch and loves being tickled. Jesse is about 13 years old and has taught me that pre-teens are the same all over the world. Penina is super sweet, well behaved and quiet. This family is basically an extension of my family. The girls walk into the eating room all the time and join us for meals and they give us groundnuts whenever we need them.


Dennis! He wins cutest kid in the world award. He recently got pink eye (Edina had it for weeks!) so he doesn’t look so cute here, but he is a real gem. I took a whole bunch of photos of him before noticing he was holding a dead mouse in his hand and then finally he held it up proudly with this face on. Eating mice is very common here and some people make a living off of catching, boiling and drying them around the village. The fat ones sell for K30 each = 22 cents. Yesterday he was carrying around baby mice in his pocket. I want to start a save the mice campaign around here.


This is Manuele. He has the goofiest smile I’ve ever seen. He is a great kid- pretty shy, well behaved and very helpful. I met him a couple days after I moved to Biscopi Village and we husked maize together. Him and his buddy Olibe sang songs while we raced to husk maize the fastest. He might be my favourite neighbourhood kid because he doesn’t get up in my face or bug me to play tickle tag; he just sits with me and visits.


These are the village chicks. I bet you they’ll all grow up and be besties. Probably build their houses side by side. It amazes me how much they look like their moms in this photo. Edina is the one in the jacket, suckin’ on a lollipop and lookin’ upset.


I made nsima for Annettie yesterday and this is what it looked like. I’m pretty embarrassed about it, but she ate it and said it was good. Sometimes the smoke gets so out of hand that your eyes water and you can’t see the pot anymore. This looks more like Pala than Nsima. I like to tell myself I could make it if we weren’t cooking in a smokehouse.

more photos to come in the future.
love kate!

Sunday, June 20, 2010

a taste of Malawi.

I've been writing down recipes as Monica cooks so that we can make
Malawian meals together when I come home. Here are some of my
favourites. Go ahead and try them!

Futali- a delicious breakfast food
1. Peel 8-10 medium potatoes- sweet or regular, it's up to you.
2. Shell 4-5 cups of peanuts and mash them with a mortar and pestle
until it becomes a flour (we call it singiro, but in English it's
called groundnut flour).
3. Cook potatoes in a pot with water and a little bit of salt until
they are mashable.
4. Strain most of the water from the potatoes when they are ready,
leaving a little bit for mashing.
5. Pour groundnut flour on top of the potatoes, cover and let sit for
a couple of minutes.
6. Mash potatoes and groundnut flour together into a soft mashed potato texture.
7. Let sit on the stove for a couple of minutes, stirring sometimes.
8. When it looks good enough to eat, dig in!

Nsima- lunch and dinner staple food
Warning: This is hard work. If it is your first time making nsima,
start with a little pot!
1. Fill pot with water (as much water as you want nsima), set stove to
medium-high and make water lukewarm.
2. Add 3-4 handfuls of ufa and stir it into the water. Ufa= maize
flour. You can buy this at the grocery store in the Mexican food
section. On the package it says it's used to make tortillas but it can
also be used for nsima!
3. The water will become thicker with the flour but still watery. When
you stir with a wooden spoon, the mixture should be seen on the spoon
when you take it out. Stop adding flour at this point.
4. Let bubbles happen for ~8 minutes. When the mixture is noticably
thicker, it is time to start making nsima.
5. Start adding handfuls of ufa, stirring it into the water as you go.
As you continue to add ufa, the mixture will become thick and more
difficult to stir. Keep it up! Power! Continue to turn the mixture and
work the flour in, removing any lumps with your strong stirring.
6. When it is thick (barely thicker than cookie batter), it is time to
stop stirring. You should be really tired by now. Give it a couple
more strong stirs and smooth it out as much as you can.
7. Remove from stove.
8. Get a bowl of water ready and a smaller bowl. Dip the small bowl in
water and scoop out an oval shaped ball of nsima (it is called a
ration). Place the scooped nsima on a serving plate. Continue to dip
the small bowl in water before scooping out the nsima.
9. You've made nsima! You'll need to get some practice at this, but
it's worth it!

Egg Ndiwo- relish, to be eaten with nsima
1. Fry 4 tbsp of oil in a frying pan. Add 3 scrambled eggs and a tsp of salt.
2. Let it deep fry like an omelet. When it is cooked, break it up into
smaller pieces and move the oil to one side of the frying pan.
3. Smash a tomato (they crush it in their hand here- try it!) into the
separated oil. Let it deep fry.
4. When tomato is cooked, mix the egg and tomato together.
5. Add 2 more tbsp of oil into the pan and cook for 1-2 more minutes.
6. Remove from stove and enjoy with nsima.

Rapini Ndiwo- relish, to be eaten with nsima
1. Cut a head of rapini into very thin strips. Rapini is like lettuce
and you can find it in some Canadian grocers.
2. Put a little bit of water in a pot with 4tbsp of salt.
3. Place Rapini in the pot and cover.
4. When the rapini has deflated and is relatively soft, remove rapini
from the pot and place in another bowl.
5. Place 4tbsp of oil into the pot.
6. Smash a tomato into the pot with your hands.
7. When the tomato is cooked and its juice is mixed with the oil, add
the steamed rapini to the pot.
8. Stir together and it is ready to serve.

Eating Rules
When you eat nsima, you must use your right hand. Take a small piece
of nsima from your ration and make it in a small ball with your hand.
Indent it with your thumb and use it to pick up some relish. I can
usually only eat one ration, but I've seen my host mother eat three!
Put on some Malawian tunes and have some fun cooking! When I get home,
I'll put some cooking lessons on youtube.
Love skate

world cup.

General Update.

As my my bottle of antimalarial medication empties, I am realizing
that time is really flying around here. "Like sand through the
hourglass". My time with my village host family is almost up and I am
not yet sure what I'm doing for living arrangements in July/August.
All of the Junior Fellows will be meeting in Lilongwe next weekend for
the mid-summer retreat and I'll be talking with Jolly Ann about where
I will be most useful for the rest of my placement. Funding has just
been approved for CLTS trigger meetings in my district and it might be
more convenient for me to live in Mkanda because it's closer to the
where the triggers are going to happen. If that's the case, I might
stay with my host family or find another family to live with. I'll be
figuring this out in the next week or so.

What I've been listening to (rarely): Modest Mouse: The Moon and
Antarctica, Good News for People Who Love Bad News. Spoon:
Transference. This American Life Podcast. Yo La Tengo: I can Hear the
Heart Beating as One

What I've been reading: Cannery Row- John Steinbeck, The
Apprenticeship of Duddy Kravitz-Mordecai Richler

Football.

I pass by a football field on my walk home from work every day. People
arrive at the field at about 3pm and play until sunset, so I always
get to catch a glimpse of a game when I walk home at 5pm. On Monday,
the scenery was a little different- the world cup had finally begun!
They had set up a projector screen and giant speakers in the middle of
the football field and about 100+ people were sitting and waiting for
the game to start. In a town without electricity, this is a pretty big
deal. This is when the spark of football ignited in my soul. I wanted
to stay and watch so badly but I had to get home before dark.

I've been keeping track of who is playing and nagging my colleagues to
come and watch games with me. Because we are without electricity, it
costs 20 kwacha (15 cents) to watch a game and that can buy tomatoes
or oil for an evening so it's a luxury that not everyone can afford. I
found out yesterday that the projector people travel to different
towns and project the games so they aren't around every day but
different cinema houses in the market run generators at night to power
televisions. Last night, I went to see my first game (South Africa
vs. Uruguay) with Alfred, a cousin to my host father who is about 15
years old. It was my first time out of the house past dark and I had
no idea what to expect. I was actually pretty spooked.

We got to this shelter type joint with reed walls and a tin roof held
up by tree limbs and they charged K20 at the door. We went in and
there were rows of wooden benches set up in front of a crystal clear
picture of South Africa vs. Uruguay. We sat at the back and settled in
for a 90 minute match ( I didn't even know soccer was 90 minutes!
Ha!). My host father ended up being there and he bought me and alfred
each a bottle of coke and I felt like I was in the 1950s. Whenever I
drink a glass bottle of coke I feel like I'm stuck in a time warp.
Watching TV and drinking a coke was luxurious.

Every time Uruguay scored (which was 3 times in total) the house
simultaneously said "eeeee" as if they just watched someone get
punched in the face. I wanted SA to score so badly, but no luck. The
game ended 3-0 for Uruguay.

We walked home and I looked at the sky the whole time. I hadn't been
up past 10pm since arriving in Malawi and I'd certainly not been out
before at 11pm. The night sky here is scattered with millions of
stars. I can't tell you how many times I tripped over my feet because
I was so captivated. I walked straight into bed and passed out until
7am. The last time I woke up at 7am, my host mother peeked into my
room and said "Malaria?".

If you want to feel connected to Africa, you should watch any world
cup match with an African team playing. Every African game has the
entire continent watching/listening. There is an amazing world cup
commercial with different African football players wearing Africa
United jerseys and it's exactly how it is over here. If there's an
African game on somewhere, I'm probably tuned in so if you tune in, we
can spend time together half way across the world!

People were asking me if I wanted England to win last night's game and
then my friend leaned over and said "She's African, she wants Algeria
to win".

keep on keepin' on.
Love kate

costs of things.

Hey folks!
I thought I'd list out some of my expenses since coming here to give
you an idea of how it is in this part of the universe.

3 small bananas = K10 =7 cents
1 orange = K10 =7 cents
An envelope = K10 =7 cents
A donut at the market = K10 = 7 cents
A text message = K14 =10 cents
2 Tomatoes = K20 =15 cents
A scone at the market =K20 =15 cents
A pearing knife = K30 =22 cents
Toilet paper = K30 = 22 cents
¼ kg Sugar =36 cents
A used t-shirt = K80 = 60 cents
Airtime for cell phone = K90/minute within Malawi =68 cents/minute
A box of cookies = K100 =73 cents
Sending a letter to Canada = K130 = 95 cents
Work shoes = K500 =$3.60
A sim card = K500 = $3.60
2 L of cooking oil = K700 = $5
Malaria medication = K2100 =$15
A cell phone =K3500 =$25

love kate!

Saturday, June 12, 2010

the boma.

i am wearing my new malawian threads and just cruised through the market. i was able to ask the vendors how much things cost in chichewa and i feel like a million bucks. 

i came to post all of these blogs before i return home and there was a power outage. i asked someone how long they usually last and his reply- "patience". so i took his word, settled down in a quiet place and just silently watched people selling sugar cane and shoes. told myself i'd wait 20 minutes. i met a guy named decision and we chatted a bit and i told him i was waiting for the power to come back on and whaddya know- he told me it was back on. 

number one lesson i've learned so far: never get your hopes up. this way, every single piece of good news is great news and it can send you soaring into space with happiness.

i'm heading back to the village now. i hope i've left you feeling updated and in the loop. i think of all of you all the time. i'm still waiting for addresses! please send it to me. i've written about 30 letters. 

dinosaur bones,
love kate

thoughts on work and life.

some thoughts on work

We're almost in the second month of delayed funding for CLTS initiatives. This is a real bummer because part of my work as CLTS JF is to attend "trigger" meetings and improve facilitation techniques.  We can't go ahead and plan trigger meetings without funding so that part of my work is on hold.

Instead, I've been meeting with CLTS facilitators and doing some ground level learning. I made a survey and got all of the facilitators to fill it out. I was in tangles figuring out what the best method of information gathering was and what kind of questions I should ask (more than 60 people will fill this out!) but eventually settled on a questionnaire of 7 questions. I wish I could have written it in Chichewa, but I would have had to get each questionnaire translated and everybody's so busy around here, I wanted to remain independent. These are the questions:

What do you know about CLTS?

What are the challenges in CLTS implementation and how can they be overcome?

What are the challenges which prevent follow ups from happening and how can they be overcome?

How have you taken personal initiative to improve CLTS?

What kind of support do you need from your supervisor in order for CLTS to be a success?

What aspect of implementation/management could be put in place to make CLTS a success?

What skills would make you more successful at CLTS implementation?

I want to figure out the general trends so that I can relay this information to the district water officer when I work one on one with him in july/august. I am about to write a short report about the results, print some copies, and distribute them to the participants.

One major thing that's coming out in the survey is that the facilitators want to be visited by their supervisors. Many of these people live in villages very far away from the boma and don't get visited very often and therefore do not feel supported. Today, when visiting my last health centre someone said "We're very happy you haven't forgotten about us". A face to face visit goes a long way in Malawi, where visiting is such a huge part of the culture. I hope I can spend time with these facilitators again when they start performing trigger meetings.

Life

I came to the boma today to use the internet and finish this report. I am indulging in Canadian life this evening. I came to town and found out that the hospital (where I'll be stationed when I move here) had the internet so I parked at a desk and took my time sorting through emails, downloading photos, reading people's blogs, oh baby. I was in heaven. The internet is a playground.

I'm currently sitting comfortably on a bed in a rest house, wearing Canadian clothes, with my computer plugged into the wall and I'm blasting music. It's filling my whole room.

I was thinking about it today and adjusting to Malawi life hasn't been difficult at all. I think my biggest adjustment (bigger than culture) has been living with a family. It's so different from my way of life in Canada. For example, I had to text my host father to tell him my plans tonight and I tell my family where I'll go and what I'm doing every day. It's the little things about living with parents that's such a crazy adjustment.

I set my objectives for the week this morning: start taking more video of life (I've been really uncomfortable with this) and start visiting people at their homes. I'm on a mission. I'll let you know how it goes.

Random Thoughts

-I just finished reading "The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao" by Jugo Diaz. I thoroughly enjoyed it and would recommend it to everyone (hence why I'm saying it here). You will laugh like crazy.

-I bought a lollipop and a coke yesterday and was in absolute heaven.

-I got a sweet Malawian shirt made for me a long time ago and picked it up today. I'm about to venture into the streets wearing it and will likely be made fun of.

-I joined a church choir and am missing practice right now to be here. Total bummer.

It is now Saturday and I'm heading back to the village. I'm just finishing up some last minute internet things. I finished my report, photocopied 10 copies and will share it with everyone this week.

I'll likely be in the boma again next week to do some research and I'll catchya then. I found out it costs 70 cents to charge my laptop at a power station. Shibby!

Hope you're endin' up on the downtown side.

Love kate

madonna.

If you want to feel like a celebrity, you should come to a small town in Malawi. Every place I go there are about a hundred eyeballs on me. I went to a tea room one day just to get some work done and the people there sat and watched me the whole time. I bounced out of there pretty fast. I can chat with my neighbor and tell him all about my day and chances are, he already knows. I'm familiar with life in a small town, but life as the only Mzungo in a small town in Malawi is a step up.

Some kids come extremely close just to look at my skin. Kids are fascinated by my sheer existence. I found a secret path to work to avoid the market (it can take 45 minutes walking through there because of the greetings) and there are handfuls of houses along the way full of kids.

I pass clusters of them and they literally trail behind me. If I take a step left, they take a step left. I get the biggest kick when I turn around abruptly. They freak their freaks. Some jump back. Others get this untrusting look in their eye. Some look like they might even cry. Some do cry. They walk behind me with such enthusiasm but when I make any sudden movement, I'm an unpredictable monster. So I stop, turn around, and ask what their names are, one by one, to make them all feel special. When I'm done, I turn back around, keep on truckin' and the group stops in shock. Then seconds later, erupt in laughter and excitement. They freak out. I turn around many metres down the road and they stand there waving furiously. I see the same kids at least 4 times a day and every time I walk the path it's as if they've never seen me before. Sometimes adults react like this too.

It's the little moments like this that make living in Malawi so much fun. Every single moment is special. 

naming the baby.

I didn't know she was pregnant until Pearson told me that Monica was going to come with me to the hospital to use the maternity scale. My response- Wicked! I figured she was at most 6 months. I don't quite understand because when I first met Pearson I asked him if they were going to have more kids and he said no. This is an example of when our English communication fails- which it does often.

Yesterday, Monica was feeling sick in the morning and I didn't think anything of it. I came home for lunch and all of the neighbourhood kids swarmed me. They usually meet me on the path, take my bag from my back, book from my hand and sweater from my arm and carry them to the house with me, but the kids were screaming "chimwene" and I was like "no dudes, I'm not your brother." I seriously didn't get it. Then Annettie said chimwene and pointed to Edina. Finally I clued in. I grabbed little Lenesia with both arms and flung her up in the air and then gave high fives all around. I was so excited that my family was having a baby!

I went to the market on the way back to work and bought Monica a chitenge and some banana biscuits for Edina (she's addicted). I saw Monica the next morning at the hospital, gave her the chitenge and she asked me what I ate for breakfast and dinner. "Yes mom, I had potatoes for breakfast and rape ndiwo for dinner. I'm very full."

I came home for lunch and Monica was already at home laying on the eating room floor with the baby and Pearson and Edina hanging out around them. I asked what his name was and then Pearson said "what do you want it to be?"

Oh god. I was warned about this. I kinda freaked out a little. No way, man! I can't name your son. No no no no no. No way! This kid is going to be around for the rest of your lives! You're going to have to say this name 3 bizillion times in your lifetime! You have to name him! I guess people don't think of baby names until after they are born here. Totally weird.

I guess they weren't joking because when I came home from work the baby still didn't have a name. So I started nervously brainstorming. At first I started thinking of beautiful Chichewa words- moon, star, dream, love, peace. Apparently those are all girl names and they wanted a Canadian name. So I wrote down every boy name in my Canadian family, then the name of every boy I'd ever gone to school with, then my favourite directors, then musicians. I made a list and read them to Monica and Pearson, watching Monica's face closely for a reaction.

We settled on Thomas. He looks like a Thomas. I think it's a kickass name. when i held him the first time, pearson told me that I looked smart, as if he were my own. they use that expression here a lot.

Pearson, Monica, Edina and Thomas. What a stellar family.


my house.

I'm going to paint a picture of the house I live in to help you step into my shoes a little better. This may not interest you at all, but because my camera isn't working, I thought this was the best alternative to share my space with you.

I live in a house about the size of a classroom. It has four rooms- my bedroom, Pearson/Moinca/Edina's bedroom, an eating room and the kitchen.

The Kitchen

There is no furniture in this room, just two giant basins of water (carried from the borehole throughout the day), a basket & sieve for the maize flower, and two big bags of unprocessed maize in the corner. All of the dishes sit in large tubs beside the water basins. All of the cooking happens outside in the cooking shed which is made of bricks and cement and has a fire in the middle of the floor. Monica and Annettie cook in here all the time and I worry about their lungs. Sometimes I step in here and I have to leave because my eyes sting so much. I want to take the roof right off of this structure but it's there so they can cook during the rainy season- just crazy. We wash the dishes on a small patch of grass beside the cooking shed. It amazes me how much time women spend at ground level, either hunched over or sitting.

The Eating Room

There is a short table, a shelf for the dishes and a large straw mat where the sitting and eating happens. In the evenings, there is a candle perched on the table which lights up our food and faces. Usually dinner time consists of Annettie, Monica, Edina, Pearson, Alfred (a cousin to Pearson) and one or two other visitors eating nsima and chatting until about 8:30pm. Pearson's house receives many visitors because he is so connected with the community. Typically, I don't think a Malawian household has two random visitors over for dinner every night but I dig it.

My Bedroom

I have a single bed made of wood with a straw rug folded in half as my mattress. I bought a snuggly blanket to sleep on and another one to cover myself but Monica and Pearson gave me two more because they said I would be too cold ("You are an adult! Why didn't you buy a better blanket? You are too economic"). I have a footstool as a nightstand which holds a stack of letters I haven't sent yet (your addresses are on the internet an hour away), my bugspray, antimalarial pills and toothbrush. A pile of books sits underneath. All of my clothes live in my guitar case on the floor and my guitar leans in the corner. My bednet makes my room feel like a 9 year old girl's royal dream. 

i wake up every day and laugh.

love kate

my family.

Pearson

What a cat! This guy walks with style and power. He will likely be the next village chief (there are 7 in all of Malawi) so people treat him with great respect. He looks straight faced and serious but it's easy peasy to make him laugh and I can see in his face whenever he talks about his family, village or work that he is proud. When he speaks, he often hits a high note, especially when he's shocked by something we crazy Canadians do, saying "ah ah ah" as he shakes his head. He wears oversized clothes (as most Malawian men do) but if he lived in Canada, this guy would be wearing the finest suits.

He is the only English speaking person in my family so he's been monumental in my learning of Chichewa. I can tell he loves teaching and is eager to teach me any word I inquire about. He is often late and insists that he "escort" me to work (men like to "escort" me everywhere) so we walk to work most mornings together. He helps out a lot of people in the community and knows all of the goings on at any given moment. He knows where everyone is and when and has his hand in every community project. He is a super friendly fellow and has welcomed me with open arms into his family.

Monica

Oh Monica! Holy Malawian Strength! She is 23 years old, 9 months pregnant, about my height, strong as an ox and the second most patient person I have ever met (Grandma, you win that prize). I was worried I wouldn't be able to connect to her because she speaks Chichewa but I was wrong. Her and I get along famously and we can laugh like craaaaaazy together.

She is a very punctual lady so she makes sure we leave on time "Jungo! Jungo!"  Sometimes she makes Pearson bike me to work because he is running late. She can cook nsima without blinking an eye (it's hard work) and always invites me to help. I hated the food before tasting Monica's cooking, but she has turned me around. Man, I look forward to every meal. She rocks out the best vegetarian meals and it's her mission to make me fat.

I learn the most Chichewa when I'm with her because she makes sure I understand exactly what she's saying before moving on. I can repeat something 4 times before she says "inde!"-yes! When I'm doing something silly or totally wrong she says "Kay-teeeeee"- the kay being very high and the teee being very low. It always makes me laugh.

Annettie

Annettie is 15 years old but she's more mature than a regular Canadian adult. Her parents died so she is living with Monica and Pearson. I found out the other day that she used to have my bedroom but while I am living here, she is staying across the street. She is Monica's second hand and does the other half of the cooking, cleaning, washing, sweeping, water getting and child rearing. She is extremely quiet but she has a wicked smile that lights up her face. She laughs at me all the time and I purposely flash her goofy faces when she's deep in thought. We haven't really talked but I sweep and wash dishes with her every morning so we connect supremely. She also likes to wear my sweaters and it makes me supremely happy when she does.

She is getting married in September so I've taken to teasing her about it. She took a bath yesterday and I said "Asamba ndi Muzuzo". I meant to say "You bathe for Muzuzo" but I said "You bathe with Muzuzo" and all of the village ladies who were sitting with me lit up and laughed hysterically. Annettie blushed and laughed it off. She is a wicked gal to hang out with.

Edina

The 2.5 year old. I have never met a two year old who cries so much. I thought life was nothing but sour keys and song when you were two but apparently not. Not to this one. For all the crying she does, her dimples make up for it. When she's happy she can light up a room, even if it is only for 3 minutes.

She mocks me and says "no no no no no no" whenever she is doing something bad and then laughs like crazy. She's a total cutie pie. Her best friend, Lenesia, lives next door and they rock out together all the time, singing catchy Malawian childrens songs and dancing all over the yard. Lenesia is never upset so they balance each other out. 

more to come!

love kate

a question of medicine june 4

I have been asked for medicine three times since arriving. The first time, I was at the borehole drawing water when a woman approached me, said "mankhwala" and pointed at her elderly friend sitting on a porch nearby. I didn't understand so I went to chat with the old woman and she motioned that her head was in pain. I imagined two things happening if I gave her medicine 1) I become the village pharmacist and 2) I assist her in feeling better and that's the end of it. Because I didn't know the family at all and because I had about 20 people hovering around me, I chose not to give her medicine. I told her to drink lots of water and later in the afternoon I saw her resting.

The second time was merely for medical advice, to which I said that I was not educated in medicine and could not help.

The third time was last night at my house. I came home late from work to find Edina, my 2.5 year old host sister, lying on the floor wrapped in a blanket. This is not out of the ordinary because she's usually zonked by the end of the day, but this time she wasn't sleeping. She looked at me and I saw that her left eye had swollen up as if she'd been a wild streetfight. I asked Monica, my host mom, what was the matter. "Adwala" was her response- She is sick. "Adwala ndi Chyani?"- Sick with what? She said malaria, but it turns out whenever anybody is sick around here they say it's malaria but I didn't figure that out until later. She told me they will go to the hospital tomorrow and because meds are free (until they run out) and she was way calm, I wasn't worried and figured Edina would make it out like a real trooper.

Shortly after that, Edina started wailing and Monica finally looked at me and said "Mankhwala"- Medicine, got it. I stopped dead in my tracks and thought "of course, absolutely, completely, I'll give you any medicine I've got". I went to my bag, got the malaria meds and handed them over. She said "Ayi"-No and handed them back to me. Then she picked up some sand from the floor and motioned it in Edina's eye, "Asewera"-She was playing. Okay! Great! Not malaria. Check.

We looked in my meds bag and I had nothing to reduce swelling so I gave Edina 1/3 of an advil as a placebo and she stopped crying.

This whole shenanigan made me think: how far will I go to change the perception of westerners?

I may not be rich in Canada, but comparatively, I'm a millionaire here. How can I honestly tell people I have nothing to give?

In this case, these people are taking care of me, wiping the dirt from my collar, preparing feasts every night to fatten me up, putting up with me as I learn Chichewa, feeding me groundnuts and potatoes from their garden and years worth of work. I don't care about the perception of westerners in my own home. If someone is sick, I will help them out. If they need candles and would never ask, I'm going to pick some up on the way home from work. I will give anything to them in return for their love and hospitality.
Engineers Without Borders Canada - Ingenieurs Sans Frontieres Canada
University of Guelph Chapter
Copyright 2010

The views on this blog are entirely my own and do not represent the views of EWB Canada.