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It feels like two weeks couldn't possibly have taken me from home to a hut in rural Africa, but it has. Currently, I'm sitting on the back porch watching chickens scramble around our yard while my host family is finishing up lunch. They didn't expect me back so early from school today, and had already started their meal. But they invited me to join them out here while there's still daylight to write my letters. Since it's the beginning of winter in the southern hemisphere, the sun sets before 6pm every night. Despite my trusty Peace Corps-issued kerosene lantern, it is easier to jot down updates home in the sunshine.
One of the other volunteers is staying in my village, Moni, had someone remark to her before she left that "Peace Corps is like the army, without any weapons." If so, I'm thinking this part of our service is boot camp.
Staging ? called, took place in Philadelphia from May 22-24th. For three days, the 22 of us who comprise the 2008 Malawi health group learned each other's names, what the Peace Corps considers sustainable development, and how to be a good volunteer. Then we held hands, sang "kumbaya," and practiced trust falls. Just kidding. Actually, we boarded an 18-hour flight from New York to Johannesburg, South Africa.
Though a little disoriented, I was excited to arrive in J-burg-my sister met me there! She is studying abroad in Capetown, and we planned for her to meet me at the hotel. It was fantastic to see her. We stayed up until 1 a.m. talking and she got to meet the rest of my group. Being the thoughtful person that she is, Chrissy also made me a "survival kit" consisting of candles, cookies, a book, a blanket, and best of all-nutella. I have to say, I'd have been sunk without it- the blanket has kept me warm, many a cold night, and I put the nutella on crackers on nights I can't choke down any more "nisma" (essentially mashed potatoes made from corn, served with every meal).
The next morning, Chrissy and I said our goodbyes (and yes, ate the hotel's breakfast reluctantly). Then it was time: one more fight, this time to Malawi.
Flying in over the country, I think I understood for the first time just how rural it is. Everywhere I looked, dusty plains stretched to the horizon. Gradually, I could make out small, brown dots-mud huts.
We received a fantastic greeting in Lilongue. All of the current health volunteers started cheering our names from the edge of the tarmac as we got off the plane. After we got our luggage (from the one carousel), everyone introduced themselves in the parking lot. We felt like such rock stars.
Finally, our group drove to the Peace Corps training site in Dedga, living in the College of Forestry dorms and learning about Malawin food, culture, and language. Our trainers are all native Malawians who are absolutely hysterical and the nicest people you could ever hope to meet. Never once have they knocked our slow learning curve-even when we began using the "chim" (latune) for the first time. Even though we had class from 7:30-4:30 each day, I was never loud and rarely not laughing.
On Sunday, our group was split into thirds and each was sent to a different village to begin the home stay experience. My group is now inhabiting Sukasuka, and learning quickly how to live…let's say "simply."
The family to which I was assigned lets me sleep on a mattress in a corner room of their stone house. We eat all of our meals together at a small table in the main room-own of three pieces of furniture the family owns. Besides the table and three chairs, there are two small sofas. On the wall there is a clock and a calendar produced by SHARP. Also, a spider the size of my hand.
Actually most of my family doesn't live in the house. My "amayi" (host mom) is supported by her brother's family, and they live in another village. But they often join us for meals, and the middle son practically lives there. Njamani is 9, and the best dictionary I have. He'll point to an object, insisting I name it in Chichewa.
I've gotten used to a lot of things I never though I could: using the chim, eating with my hands (silverware is too expensive), sitting in darkness, sleeping with a mosquito net tucked in around my bed. One thing I don't think I'll ever adjust to, however, is showering outside in a bucket. The toughest part of my day is waking up to an air temperature of 45 degrees, crawling out of my warm bed, and taking my "lofa", using water my amayi heats for me. It's just me, my soap, the water…and the wind, blocked only by the tall grass I stand behind.
After that, my day significantly improves. We learn Chichewa all morning and have technical training in the afternoon, which I love. We study health and development challenges Malawi faces, as well as potential means of addressing such issues as volunteers. The classes make me feel purposeful.
Most days, I feel very alive and exhilarated to be in Africa. Sine days I get really homesick though. Our first day in Sukasuka, the chief's father died. I don't think I've ever been as depressed as I was at the funeral the following day. Observing the funeral customs was interesting, for sure- the women sit outside the house, while the men build up the coffin. Then everyone comes together to sing and cry over the body. That's a long time to sit in the hot sun without fully comprehending what's going on. I started questioning if I could handle two years of overwhelming experiences and stimuli.
But the more I learn about development challenges in Malawi, and the more I see with my own eyes, the more I am compelled to help. I've recently visited the Dedza District Hospital where the nurse gave us the prime statistics: 70 nurses, 10 assistants, and 3 doctors for the entire district population of 646,292. That's a ratio of 1 doctor: 220,000 people. There's plenty of capacity building to do here.
I'm also on a personal mission to find joy. At this point in my life I feel like I understood the essentials I need in life: family, friendship, love, running, God, and coffee. But I don't believe I've come to appreciate the way small blessings, brief interactions and daily scenes can enhance each day.
I've names this blog (to which I'm grateful to friends for updating!) after my favorite new word in Chichewa, "Chimandisangalatsa," which means "that makes me happy"- a good summation and personal reminder to keep on seeking.
God willing and the US Postal Service obliging, I'll be able to write again soon. Homestay lasts another couple weeks, then its back to Dedza for more training and preparation for our individual site assignments. I'm really getting excited for all that lies ahead.
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