You are arriving in a little under a month. If you’re anything like me you will be really excited and then the night before you fly out you’ll be the equivalent of roughly one valium away from a nervous breakdown. Please don’t be like me, that was completely uncalled for. This is not a conmplete packing list just a few things that I came across while getting ready. So my hints for reducing you stress are as follows:

ClothesYou only have limited space and weight limits, and you are probably worried about what to bring as far as clothes go. Ladies bring a few t-shirts, some lightweight travel pants, some long skirts, swimsuit and underwear. Boys, same thing but you can skip the skirts. You can and will buy clothes here I promise! If it comes down to leaving something out so you can bring a pressure cooker or whatever, leave out the clothes. A hat is nice to have and I do advise bringing a brand new package of underwear and just holding on to it. You’ll thank me in about a year.

Med kit

Don’t even bother with this one unless you have some sort of medication or batman band-aid (which is really cool) then that you should bring. The Peace Corps medical office is amazing. Dr. Max and Dr. John and Nurse Evelyn have absolutely everything you need. I brought medical stuff when I came and I haven’t touched it. All I can suggest is maybe some ibuprofen and a handful of band aids to get you through home stay.

ShoesYou hear all kinds of things on this one. Bring tennis shoes, bring sandals, bring a hiking boot that stamps out waffle patterns in the mud, you know stuff like that. I brought tennis shoes, hiking boots, and a pair of Tevas. I live in my Tevas, ask anyone. I actually wore a pair out and had to get a new one. If you hate wearing sandals in the States you probably will here too. I think I can count on one hand the number of times I have worn my tennis shoes and I haven’t touched the hiking boots (sorry mom). Don’t worry about flip flops, Peace Corps gives you a pair, they’re not super nice or anything but they are great for the shower. So if you have a pair you can’t live without, bring it.

Games/Time killers

These you will want. I brought a deck of cards and a book of word search puzzles to country and I love them both. Other things we recommend are Uno, Apples to Apples and Bananagrams. Any kind of small puzzle game that can travel well is good to have. You will have some down time in home stay and these are good to have.

Electronics

I brought a net book to country and an external hard drive and my ipod. Insure things before you leave!!!! I cannot stress this enough, Malawi is hard on electronics. I have had to replace each of these, thankfully they were covered so that helped a lot. If it mattered to you in the states it will matter to you here even more. Having a computer is not a necessity but it is really nice and does help get stuff done. The external hard drive is good to have if you plan on keep yourself entertained. There are a ton of movies and tv shows floating around here but get a really good travel case. Bouncing around on a mini bus does nothing good for these things

US Dollars

I think the maximum you can put in the safe in Lilongwe is about 700 or 800. Do it if you can afford to. Sometimes things come up and you need some extra cash. Or if you are planning a trip somewhere it helps to be able to start off with USD, the Malawian Kwacha is worth nothing.

Lights/BatteriesBring a good head lamp, odds are good it’ll be your main source of light for a very long time. With that in mind get rechargeable batteries for it. It does you no good to run out of batteries and have to wait for them to come from America. Get a headlamp that takes rechargables and get extra batteries so you are never stuck.

SolarI have a solar panel that hooks up to a motorcycles battery and I can charge stuff off of that, in theory. It worked for a while but I think something is wrong with the battery since it is cheap junk but it worked for a while. A lot of people have a little solar charger that they stick in the sun all day and can charge their ipod or phone for a bit at night. That is a nice thing to have so bring one of those. I also have a small flashlight made by Coleman that has a solar panel and hand crank charger on it and I like it a lot. If it has been a cloudy rainy day you can still charge it and read at night.

At the moment that is all I can think of. If you happen to come up with any questions just ask and I’ll do what I can to answer them. Please remember, you’ll be ok! I had never been out of the States before coming here and I made it so you will too! Keep calm and keep breathing!

Also, don’t do all your packing the night before you leave. That won’t help you either. Otherwise, I look forward to seeing you all for your week two of training!

The first week of December marked the end of the first term of Life Skillsfor my Form 1 (9th grade) and Form 3 (11th grade)students. It also marked the end of myfirst EVER term as a teacher. I preparedthe final exams (even as my computer burned out and several projects picked upduring the same week) and hoped for the best. What I got was…something else. Let’s just say, there was a bell curve (so that must mean my teaching isactually pretty spot on, right?) however, those who scored low, scored verylow. Let’s take a look at their answers,shall we? Keep in mind, this is LifeSkills - basically a mandatory health class that all students must take inorder to receive their certificate from secondary school. It is taught in English (not the students’first language) and the exam is in the form of multiple choice, short answersand essays.

I don’t remember the questions that went along with these answers, but these are the points that students made.“Smoking causes a disease called blindness”“Young people are drinking because they want the removal of shyness”

2. Describe a moral dilemma in yourcommunity“Favoritism is a moral dilemma in the community, for instance our parentslove the girls so they buy them clothes”“Maybe someone wants to destroy property. He can get drunk so he has an excuse”

3. List emotional/mental changesthat happen during puberty:“Boys sperm production will reduce when you live together and girls youfeeling this.”“Boys are discussing girls and girls are discussing boys.”

4. List two characteristics ofsomeone with high self-esteem:“Supply and demand”“Sexual intercourse and smoking/drinking”

5. List a disadvantage of selfesteem:“Everybody hates you”

6. List physical changes for malesand females during puberty:“Hair around in the ground”

7. List two democratic values:“hunger and thirst”

On top of these answers that were provided, some students chose to circleseveral of the options for a multiple choice question. They kindly put the word “or” in betweentheir selection so that I knew they were trying to get the right answer, ifonly they could call a friend. Also, Ihad two boys hand in identical exams – verbatim! And they chose to hand in their exams togetherso I knew right away that they had cheated. If there were other exams in-between the two, I may not havenoticed. Oh the joys of teaching!

____________________________________________________________________________________________________Recipe: Chicken wrap

Ingredients

1/8 tsp Chili Powder

2 tbsp yogurt cheese (press all the liquid out of yogurt by wrapping it in cheesecloth, putting it in a sieve, and placing a bag of beans on top. Let drain for a few hours).

Bunch of cilantro

Salt to taste

1 tbsp lemon juice

2 cloves garlic

1/2 small onion

1 chicken breast

1/4 tsp cumin

Handful lettuce

1 small tomato, chopped

Directions

Sauté onions in oil until translucent. Add garlic, chicken and spices and sauté until chicken is done. Meanwhile, spread tortilla with yogurt cheese, add cilantro, lettuce and tomato, and then add fry-up and wrap it.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

It is, I will admit, a little bit strange to receive a call from your parents asking how you would feel if they moved to Kenya. Even if you are at the time living in Africa, and even if you feel great about it, there’s still something displacing about seeing the home you lived in your entire life get sold, and your parents move one whole ocean and a good part of a continent away. On the other hand, since I happened to move across the same ocean, at least it wouldn’t take me an entire day to fly to them. At least, that was the theory.

I left Edinburgh for Kenya at seven in the morning. This particular day it was very windy in London and due to the wind delays, both my plane out of Edinburgh, and my plane out of Heathrow taxied to a remote part of the runway, and shut off for an hour or two (okay, not to be critical of Heathrow airport, I know it’s really big and everything, but it’s located in London the place is windy the place is foggy you think they would have figured a system out by now).

By the time I reached Cairo I had missed my direct flight to Kenya (four hours) and instead got routed through Dar es Salaam in Tanzania (six hours) where I had a four hour layover, and then flew back up to Kenya (two hours). By the time the plane landed in Tanzania whenever I stood up I felt as though I was on the prow of a boat that was making its way through very stormy waters.

Landing in Tanzania was a lot like landing in Malawi. Tanzania is, granted much more humid than Malawi - it’s the type of air that when you walk through it, it actually feels wet. But as we unloaded onto the tarmac and walked into the rather small airport it was the similarities that hit me. The trees, bits of the language, even the dress styles of the tourists. I spent a while in the waiting room watching a bird fly around. It had its nest in a light, and was able to fly in and out so easily because the Tanzanian airport, like the Malawi airport, is fairly open - the walls don’t quite connect to the ceiling, and here and there, doors to the outside are just left ajar.

I thought about all the airports I’d been through in the past few months. About the closed in tunnels of Dulles, about the crowded waiting rooms of Heathrow, and the soldier with the semi-automatic machine gun who was in my tram at Charles Du Gaul, to the palm trees lining the shiny new corridors in Cairo, and even about Edinburgh, where a jolly customs official welcomed me in and said he hoped I had a lovely year. I thought about all of this as I sat there looking out at this bird I recognized, against a backdrop I recognized, in an airport style I remember quite well, and I don’t think it was up until that moment that I truly realized how much I had missed it all.

We were escorted to the flamingo café for breakfast, although I wasn’t hungry, since I had already eaten a dinner on both my flights (side note, has anyone even had lunch on a flight? I was thinking back, and I couldn’t remember a single time). I sat down with three people who work in Uganda, which was nice. It’s always a relief to meet people who work in Africa, because no matter where they work of what they do, there is a common affinity of understanding there.

It’s actually very difficult for me to talk about what Malawi was like to people who have never spent an extended amount of time in Africa. This is because while I can describe in perfect detail my village, or day to day life, I don’t really think I will ever be able to even come close to conveying what living in a village was actually like. In some ways, the experience is like a word unique to a language, untranslatable. It’s fortunate for me that a lot of people in my graduate school either A) are from Africa or B) have worked and lived in Africa.

After spending a nice four hours checking “Dar es Salaam airport” off my list of places to go in life I loaded onto an airplane and finally took off for Kenya. By the time I landed in Kenya I had been in transit for 28 hours. Imagine my relief then, when there were only three people in front of me in the visa line. I went up and handed over my thirty pounds for a visa, the immigration official took them, looked at them, then looked at me.

Scottish pounds. Note the Bank of Scotland on lefthand edge, and Sir Walter Scott. “I can’t accept these,” he said. “They’re Scottish pounds.”

I replied that I knew that, but that Scottish and British pounds were the same.

“No,” he pointed out. “These say ‘Royal Bank of Scotland’ on them, and they have different people.”

“Right,” I replied. “Because these are issued in Scotland. But Scotland and Britain are part of the same country. It’s just the same.”

British Pounds. Note the "Bank of England" above and Queen. To which he stated that while he was fully aware that Scotland and Britain were part of the same country the Kenyan government had stated that they were not accepting pounds from the Royal Bank of Scotland (which actually might be smart, there’s a lot of counterfit Scottish currency running around right now. We got an e-mail from the school telling us exactly what to check - watermarks and so forth - and it was just like, that’s all well and good guys, but honestly I don’t even know who’s face is supposed to be on there).

“Well the Kenyan government is wrong.” I said firmly, and as an excuse for saying that, I can only cite the previous 28+ hours of transit.

Fortunately, the border official I was dealing with was quite affable and replied that be that as it may, since I was in fact standing at the Kenyan border if I wanted to get in I was probably going to have to hand over a currency the Kenyan government accepted. Luckily I had been to London recently, and happened to actually have some British pounds on me, which I promptly handed over.

Giving me change, the border official apologized for having to give me British pounds. I let it go. At the time, the incident was frustrating, but thinking about it, the situation is a bit odd. I really like Scotland having it’s own currency. This is because I really like a lot of the cultural symbols Scotland uses to declare its uniqueness (if not its independence) from Britain. That said, to someone not living in the UK, I can see where the concept of two currencies for one country would be a bit strange.

Two currencies aside I managed to pass through the border (thank you again patient border official) get my visa, and meet Dad in the lobby to head back to the new home in Kenya... (TBC next week)Backyard in Virginia

Backyard in Kenya

Here's a Nkhata Bay favorite! It's one of our favorite breakfasts and makes for great hangover food...if you're into that.

½ kg potatoes, sliced (the thinner the better, I prefer them unpeeled)

Enough water to cover the potatoes

Oil for frying

1 medium onion

1 medium tomato

1 green pepper

1-2 cloves garlic

2 eggs, beaten

2 tsp crushed red pepper or chili powder

Salt and pepper to taste

Place sliced potatoes into large pot and cover with water. Bring contents to a boil and drain (boiling before frying makes frying take less oil and time). Fry potatoes in large saucepan until desired crispiness, might take more than one round to fry them all. Remove potatoes from pan and sauté vegetables in left-over oil. Add enough potatoes to at least cover the bottom of the pan. Pour beaten eggs over the vegetables and add red pepper, salt and pepper. Allow mixture to fry until bottom is golden brown. Slide the contents of saucepan into large plate and flip back into pan. Allow other side to fry. Enjoy! Best served with either avocado or ketchup. Consider experimenting serving with left-over beans or chili on top! The possibilities are endless!!!

In the most recent package my parents sent me a gallon Ziploc bag of garlic sauce. The story goes like this: they requested some garlic sauce at the pizza place for their daughter. The pizza place said “they’re 50 cents each”. The mom and dad said “rephrase, we want garlic sauce for our daughter in the Peace Corps in Africa.” The pizza place went into the back and returned with a bag of garlic sauces for the mom and dad’s daughter in Africa fo’ free!

I want to make note of how wonderful garlic sauce really is. In the year I have been away from These United State, garlic sauce has, in fact, not lost its tasty glory. It is exactly how I remember it. Garlic-y, buttery, salty, saucy. I would drink it. I would! But it just complements bread so well!

Also, shout out to my grandparents! Major props on the package! The salami!!! And the cheese!!! I had a glorious valentine’s day in which I splurged on whole wheat crackers in Mzuzu and sat making little cracker, cheese, salami tower sandwiches. Doug was also in cheese heaven, licking the cheese wrappers. And those tortillas were a great bonus! Quesadillas topped with quacamole made with avocados from my tree outside! It was almost TOO good to eat. But I ate it. Yes, I ate it.

That was fast. She ran away the week I got her because I left for a night. Poor thing, either eaten by a snake or drowned in the middle of rainy season.

No worries, the Pastor's cat's kittens are about ready to be taken home. Now I can lose a second cat! Name suggestions?

Well I am back again with another post, which could quite realistically be one of my very last. I'm not feeling too sentimental about it, at least not for now. But anyway, here's my update on the last couple of months. Instead of writing way too much to explain everything like I normally do, I decided to take a different approach and use pictures instead. They are in a very random order, but nevertheless I hope you enjoy...

Kapiri Medicals - first place winners of the 2nd Kapiri Women's Football Cup (sponsored by my soon-to-be-married friend Steph Ohlson, thank you Steph!)

Christmas '11 at Likoma Island (jealous?)

Tithandizani HIV/AIDS Support Group in front of their newly built pig house

Kamera Under Five Health Clinic...Finally finished!

the piggies

Chizumulu Island on Christmas Eve

making a eucalyptus tincture

the beginnings of a homemade beesuit as modeled by one of the teachers

with my bud Nelson, a cute 5 yr old with a disorder that severely stunts his growth

my dog - I asked my little sister to name him and she affectionately gave him the name "LionTiger"

groundnuts grown for cooking oil production with the women's group

what I see while waiting for a minibus to Lilongwe in the early am

natural medicinal products for sale..

one of the nursery school kids with her donated toy

part I of a beekeeping training at a primary school

my backyard in the middle of the rainy season...this means I am on constant snake watch

with the local nursery school kids and presenting them with toys, books, posters, and maize porridge thanks to a very special donor (again, thanks Steph!)

Thanks again for reading my post. Hope all of you from back home are ready for this tanned, slightly malnourished, even more slightly cynical, but very happy girl!

I'm four days away from payday and I'm afraid all I can think of these days are my own money woes. Moving to the city, followed by the resounding thud of the economy hitting rock bottom has led to an increased awareness of my spending habits. As my family will gladly tell you, I have never been much of a miser. I prefer to consider my lifestyle as a series of "well controlled indulgences." I'm learning all sorts of fun and creative ways to save money. In my family we like to call it "the stingy bone," which I believe replaces the "funny bone" in those of us some would call "dry." The following is a list of fun ways to save a penny, or kwatcha, depending on your country of origin.

10 signs you might be cheap1. You mix your laundry soap with water rather than purchase dish soap2. You design and make your own feminine hygiene products3. In the heat of the moment you come to and realize you've been screeching at a 60 year old man who is try cheating you out of 10cents for a handful of dried garbanzo beans4. You consider toilet paper a luxury, not a necessity5. You wake up in a sweat only to realize your nightmare was real: you really did leave the bathroom light on6. You wash your hair in the sink instead of showering so you don't waste the water7. Just as the tube of toothpaste looks like it got run over... then you cut it open8. Instead of just buying more oil you just keep using the questionable stuff sitting at the bottom of the frying pan9. You find yourself internally bargaining when shopping "If I get the wrinkly cucumbers I can have electricity for another 12 hours!"10. You catch yourself asking the starving child in Africa "Hey, are you going to eat that?"

*no this is not a plea for money, seriously, don't send it** ok, some of these might be a slight exaggeration

Hey all!! As promised, here is an update of the building progress! The grant money was deposited early last week, and since then, Alex (my counterpart with forestry) and I have been running around like CRAZY!!! Cement, lime, and roofing wire have been recently purchased and transported to the school to be stored with the iron roof sheets and nails that the school had previously purchased! The builder started working on Friday, and I'm amazed at how fast he's working! Don't worry, he knows what he's doing; he's also built the storage room for the World Food Program at the school and the building is really nice. Friday he finished digging the trench for the foundation and by tuesday, he had completely finished the foundation bricks and started on the walls. You can see from the pictures posted the progress he's made up until last night (Wednesday). It hasn't even been a week, and he's so far along! Alex and I have been busy this week buying 20,000 bricks and making transport arrangements for it, as well as for the dambo sand to be used as mortar. Additionally, we've gotten a new library committee together and are working on revising the old library's guidelines and by-laws. Anyways... I've been fighting with federal job websites and have developed quite the headache... so off I go! Thanks guys for the continuing support!

“The time to return has come”

Zambia, our neighbor to the west, and cultural look-a-like, has won the Africa cup of nations. Huzzah! Zambia, we are celebrating with you!

I was walking to work this morning (walking and not bicycling because its too hot to wear pants and I flash people when I ride a bike while wearing a short skirt…flashback to flashing the village headman in Mulanje way back when) when my neighbor pulled up in his mini bus and gave me a ride to work. It was nice.

In other news, Peace Corps is rolling through town today, I’m trying to decide if I’m going to send them up with my bicycle or not. I have a few hours to decide.

As of now my office mate and former landlady is playing the same song over and over again as I take a picture of my fanta bottle (fanta passion is delicious! It tastes like passion fruit). She’s complaining that I haven’t taken a picture of her so I won’t be able to show everyone in America what she looks like. She’s not a good person but I feel for her because her husband cheats on her. Ok, I just took a picture of her…and of everything else. Diana keeps complaining about how I don’t take enough pictures.

I know I’ve been here too long as I just spoke this sentence after someone in the office offered to make me tea:

“Eyai, Sindimakhonda tea upanda mkaka” or “No thanks, I don’t like tea without milk”

Good news! I finally bought the cement to fix my well yesterday!

Seven bags of cement. Large stones and river sand have already been collected. The driver who was with me whined so much about having to do physical labor (because when it came time to load the bags into my house the only people around were my 84 year old and 21 but pregnant with malaria neighbors….not much help) that I ended up buying him beer once we got back to the office. Either way, it’s here, it’s safe in my house, and its going to help a lot. Once people started to find out that the cement actually arrived, they started coming back to my house telling me any number of the following:

“Mulungu akudalitse” or “God bless you”

“Mulungu akupatse nzeru” or “May God give you intelligence”

Ect. Ect. Ect. You get the picture; needless to say, they were grateful. This is the first time I’ve done a project and been thanked for it. I don’t know how to handle it. At any rate, the cement is here, not we just have to actually do the project….we’ll see when it gets done. Just call me the community mobilizer! I will organize this project so hard people won’t know what hit them.

Then my neighbor lady (the old one, not the pregnant one) woke me up this morning banging on the door. I thought there was a problem so I rushed out to the door. She was begging body lotion because her skin was dry…..not a fun way to wake up.

I saw this sign in Blantyre..evidently they have a problem with people rushing up and down the completely open staircase.

"Chigumu" which is cake made with maize flour and banana's (which sounds much more delicious than it is as it is dry and gritty even freshely baked. They bake them in cut off sweet and condenced milk tins.

Cement.

Cement. BIGGEST THANKS EVER to Dave and Irma!

When I talk about soya pieces, this is what they look like.

The 99 kwacha shop.

This is the old lady who lives next to me. She's Zulu, from Johannesburg but came to Malawi in 1964 by train to be married. She never went back home to South Africa even though her husband passed away in the 1980's because the chiefs asked her to stay. She has no contact with any of her family. She's the one who woke me up wanting lotion. I don't know her name, everyone just calls her "Agogo" which means "Grandmother". She's hilarious. She sweeps my backyard every day to keep me safe from snakes. When I told her not to sweep, I want grass to come and I'm not affraid of snakes, she said that she needs the exercise so that she doesn't walk like an old lady... My landlady is Agogo's only surviving child of four daughters.

Agogo sits on her porch all day long. She tells me that she's my "moronda" or "gaurd".

My neighbor, Davy, brought a picture of himself for me to take a picture of so everyone back home could know what he looks like when he's all dressed up. He wants me to take another picture of him on Sunday when he's wearing his Sunday best.

This is what Africa does to headphones. I just got these in September. It has to be at least my 6th set since I've been here. I hope these last a couple more months.

Eggplant (Mabilingano)! I eat this more than i will admit.

This is my old landlady, and current office-mate, Mrs. Shawa. She's the mean one.

Co-workers co-workers co-workers!

Another co-worker...he's an accountant.

The market across the street from my office.

The market across the street from my office.

This is the UNDP car that the District Commissioner rolls around in. Thanks United Nations for donating cars to the people who can already afford them!

More co-workers

This is them posing for the camera. People here don't normally smile for pictures...

Some of my co-workers.

Working hard, or hardly working?

Some of my co-workers cracking themselves up over something.

Fanta Passion is DELICOUS!

This is the game called snake on my phone. It looks like this. I had to stop playing because I kept having dreams that snakes were chasing me. My top score is REALLY high though.

Sometimes I do this...I'm getting better. In this game, when you win, the cards bounce in VICTORY!

Termites like books too...

Thanks for reading!

Recently I have been getting into baking (cookies, breads, desserts, evenpizza dough) since I have acquired 10 kg of flour and I’m not quite sure whatelse to do with so much flour. You maywonder how one bakes in the village without an oven. Well, my friend, it is quite simple. There are many methods, but I will share withyou how I bake.

Materials needed: -Large pot with a lid-sand-baking tin-heat source (fire, coal, hot plate)

In a pot large enough to hold your baking tins, place fairly clean sand toa depth of two inches. Set pot on top ofyour heat source, place baking tin on top of sand and cover with lid. Baking time will depend on what you arecooking as well as your heat source. Things tend to cook faster than you think so check often. Adding a tablespoon of water to the sandbefore baking may help if your baked goods are coming out dry.There you have it! Who needs an oven when you have a big pot of sand?!

This is Rachel, a friend and fellow PCV, with some of her students. She teaches math at a community day secondary school in southern Malawi (Zomba). I visited her and led sessions with her students about sexual decision making.

Rachel's school (St. Bridgit's Community Day Secondary School)

Rachel's house.

Rachel's site.

The penis model that I use for condom demonstations.

Friends and Peace Corps Volunteers, Dana and Cassie, at Cassie's house. She lives in Lilongwe district and I visit her sometimes.

Nala!!!

My table at home with chickpeas, sunglasses, sunscreen, cell phone, tape.

some of my students

Not too far from my house is Lake Chilingali (aka Lake Chikukutu), it is a manmade lake and is pretty old, it was done back in the 1960’s from what I understand. It is one of the few large lakes in Malawi (aside from Lake Malawi) so a lot of the economy in the area is based on the lake. Irrigation agriculture, fishing and ecotourism hippo watching are all dependent on the lake.

From what the villagers have told me, about 5 years ago the dam broke. Now when I say dam don’t picture anything like a dam you would see in America. It was a concrete barrier with a spill way but not very big at all. The concrete has long since been blown out and all that is holding the lake back was a mud barrier. Until recently.

Riddle me this, if you have a business ferrying people across the river below the dam and the water flow slacks off how can you drum up more business……..

The answer is so simple it may shock you! Grab your khasu (hoe) and rip the mud wall apart! Problem solved!

Oh Malawi.

That is exactly what happened. Over two days, what is left of the lake has plummeted about 10 feet. The hippos have long since left but the crocodiles are supposed to still be there. The dropping water level only serves to concentrate them. So I expect to hear about more and more people having conflicts with the wildlife.

Today I stopped in at the Department of Irrigation and told them about it, because let’s face it; there is no way they knew this soon. They all looked pretty shocked, which was good. Apparently they had been out a week ago to do survey planning. They are starting on planning to put in a new dam. From what they told me the European Union is involved in some capacity so that might help.

All the people I have talked to are really upset about it they all say, “Ah he is a very foolish man”. Yup. The police came out to arrest him and before they took him away his punishment was to ferry people across for free. Kinda poetic justice that way.

Also, the African Cup of Nations was played on Sunday night. The contenders were Cote d’Ivory and Zambia. All the Malawians were cheering for Zambia because we are neighbors and it is right to do that. I watched the game, the first soccer game I ever watched all the way through. They tell me it was a really good game. I still don’t see it. No one scored the whole game so it went into overtime or whatever they call it. So basically they took shots at the goal until someone got one in and someone missed. That part was kinda exciting but otherwise it was a little over an hour of my life I want to get back.

It’s funny though that the logic behind cheering for Zambia was that we are neighbors. That doesn’t work in the States. Take the AFC West for instance. If the Oakland Raiders are playing the Steelers we don’t cheer for the Raiders because we are in the same division, you pray the Steelers beat them into the ground. That sort of thing only works here. But Zambia won so in the end everyone was happy.

The Traditional Authority (think like a few steps up from chief) of the goalie from Zambia gave him two cows and 250 hectares for doing such a good job. Superbowl victors get a ring and a parade. Both completely applicable in their own ways.

(All children) There’s a sad sort of clanging From the clock in the hall And the bells in the steeple, too And up in the nursery An absurd little bird Is popping out to say coo-coo (Coo-coo, coo-coo) (Brigitta, Gretel, Marta) (Fredrick, Leisel, Kurt, Louisa) coo-coo Regretfully they tell us coo-coo But firmly they compel [...]

So I decided that 60 posts is a good amount to leave everyone with as I think about heading home. Below is my last sermon I will hopefully deliver in March. Then I will be leaving my site March 20th and going home March 30th! So enjoy the last posts! I have difficulty with the [...]

Back in the village and I feel like I am exactly where I should be. Did I scare you with my whiny post-holidayuncertainty? I hope not. Before I left for Germany, I felt empty andsad and walked anxiously through my house like it was the last time I was goingto see it. I couldn’t fathom leaving,even if it was for only two weeks. What,am I crazy?! I know, so strange. And then while I was in Germany, I enjoyedall things pleasant and easy to access and then felt sad and guilty about whatI was enjoying. I wanted to stay inGermany and felt even more guilty about those feelings. When I came back to Malawi, I was struck withgrief and confusion and was not myself. It took a few days, a handful of pep talks from my friends here andfinally after consuming a large amount of German chocolate I smuggled intoMalawi, I am back to myself.

I think there is always a degree of transition when leaving one culture andgoing back to another. Plus, it’sdifficult to balance your life. Malawians will never truly understand me and at times, that makes mefeel lonely. Family and friends backhome can never truly understand my life in Malawi and that frustrates me. I feel like I will never be at peace with mytwo lives – always in limbo. I amstarting to understand this and I am trying to just appreciate each day as itcomes to me. Whether I am in Malawi,Germany, America or Thailand, I will always face this sense of not trulybelonging somewhere, but it won’t stop me from traveling as much as I possiblycan. I got the travel fever and the onlyprescription is more cowbell – er, traveling.

It's been an amazing 6 months since I've last made a blog post. Whoopss.

I officially leave in 23 days. Although I am dreading the three days of travel it will take to get to Malawi, I am super excited.

The question I get most often however is "are you nervous?" I know I stumble over the answer to this question nearly every time I am asked, but to be honest I'm full of so many emotions that it's hard to express what I really feel.

Let me break it down: I was extremely nervous and excited let's say around August of last year (right before my last post) when I thought that I was leaving before 2012. Since things changed so much and so suddenly and I've had all of this "free time" I guess I haven't really let reality sink in. I'm so excited, I really am, and yes, I am nervous, but I'm more nervous about stupid things, like what am I going to wear, and am I going to be sleeping in a hammock for 27 months, than the bigger picture. (biggest run on sentence ever) I guess when I face the real reality I will be nervous, or the day I get on that plane in Grand Rapids, or maybe even next week at my "going away party" when I'm crying the entire time.

I am nervous to leave my cozy little home, and this super small town, binge eating for the last six months and the comfort of my parents (especially since I've gotten really used to being so spoiled), but I'm really ready to get going, to cross the ocean, to really try and make a difference. Like everyone who has ever been a peace corps volunteer (PCV) suggests, I'm trying not to have expectations, and maybe that is the real root of this un-nervousness. I guess we will find out in the weeks to come when I do a 180 on my emotions.

My goal is to make 23 the best year of my life thus far (16 days away) and really embrace a new culture, a new way of life, and new expectations. I feel really blessed, and I'm ready to try and give that feeling to someone else.

On a side note, I am going to try to be more diligent about writing posts while I'm in Malawi, so stay tuned, don't lose faith in my blogging just yet.

On an extra side note, If you want to send me packages, letters, love, ect, my address has been updated

--> and you can send them now, I'll probably beat them there since it takes a multiple weeks for them to arrive.

This week my good friend from Seattle (now living in Lusaka) came over to check out village life. Laura is a nurse like me but since she is not in the Peace Corps, she has no restrictions on doing hands-on care. She hit it off with the midwives and was helping to catch babies in no time!Laura got on a bus in Lusaka at 10:30 which sat, and sat, and sat in the bus depot until almost 6pm! Meanwhile I had travelled to the Zambian border town of Chipata, to meet her and spend the night before we continued to my village. She finally arrived at 2am. We got a few hours sleep and then rode about eight more taxis, minibuses, and trucks to arrive in Balang'ombe just before sunset.Laura took to village life like a real trooper- bucket baths, candlelight, the constant flow of visitors (and people curious to see the new azungu)- no prob! And thank God Laura is a dog person. She had a mesmerizing ability to calm Innocent, whereas I have no idea what to do with this newly fat, happy and HYPERACTIVE dog.By the way- Innocent is a little Wakuba- thief. She can't figure out where her own tail is it seems but she is excellent at noticing when my neighbors are cooking nsima so she can sneak a patty back out to my yard. We took Inno to the market and she started gnawing on some corn fritters that were for sale (don't worry, we bought them). For the rest of the market, Laura held Inno to keep her from stealing stuff, and people found this VERY interesting. Not only is this a brand new azungu, but she's holding a dog! Crazy. We were looking in the famous 20 kwatcha pile and I held up a weird looking pastel ski mask. Ohmygod! Laura said- it's a doggie sweater! So now everyone was staring at the new azungu holding a dog that was wearing a sweater. I had already assumed that most of the people in my village think I am crazy. Is there a level above crazy?

In the evenings, we would sit outside, drink our tea, and watch as Inno and Rocky (my neighbor's dog) played and growled and rolled around in the dirt. The gaggle of local girls who like to hang out at my house came over almost every night, and sometimes, when things got slow, I would blow them some bubbles (which they love more than candy). We were sitting out there, and Laura was like, 'I love this. I could totally live in a village and be happy.' Yup. So can I. :-)

 My Little Visitors

Starting on Monday, Laura headed over to the Labor and Delivery wing of the Health Centre and started helping out. In fact, when we first arrived, a baby was already crowning. The birth was totally normal, but the mom (17 y/o) was really having a rough time and her Agogos were screaming at her to push harder and at one point even hit her. Laura just started cooing and holding the Mother's hand and the baby slid right out.For baby number two, I was teaching my English class while Laura spent the entire day with the mother in labor. It was another normal pregnancy, and then THAT baby slid out, Laura caught it, with the midwife looking on. The mom named the baby girl "Rola" (Malawians can't pronounce 'Laura').The third baby was breech, butt first. The poor midwife had been calling for an ambulance all night but because of the fuel shortage nothing came. The midwife warned the Agogos that the birth was very risky and the baby might not make it. When it was finally out, it was blue and not breathing. There was no suction, so they just hand- bagged it for a few minutes and rubbed it and prayed. Then there was the best sound of all- the baby cried and I got to be the first to tell the Agogos that the baby lived and that it was a girl. Timasangalala Kwambiri!!Needless to say, Laura had a great time with the baby-mommas and midwives.

 Laura and Nurse/Midwife Margaret.

So now I have a calmer dog, a better understanding of what happens here when a woman is giving birth (I never worked as a Labor and Delivery RN, so I had been kind of avoiding the L&D wing for awhile), and a renewed sense of awe for my village and lifestyle. You know how sometimes you never really appreciate somthing until you see it through another person's eyes??Thanks Laura- Balang'ombe misses you!Grace and PeaceEliza

I realize it has been quite awhile since I have written a real blog, and for that I apologize. I guess even in Malawi you can get lost in the holiday shuffle… or at least that is what I will claim as the reason I have not written. But I hope you all had a wonderful holiday and are starting off 2012 awesomely! I thought it would be harder to miss the holidays then it actually was. Of course, I would have preferred to have been with my family fulfilling all of our family traditions that I am so stringent about each year, but since Christmas is more subdued around here, it wasn’t like I was lost and lonely amongst Christmas cheer. It was kind of just like any other day- except throughout December there were many more goats tied up around my village, which I presume were all consumed for the holiday. Yum! My friends Ross and Jay came to my house for Christmas- we made delicious food, put our presents around my Charlie Brown Christmas Tree (care of K.E. Angelo, thank you sis!), and watched Batman and Twin Peaks. Christmas morning I retrieved (from a friend’s freezer, thank you Nurse Anna) our ingredients for mimosas, and we opened presents (mostly mine, thank you family) and drank mimosas. We spent the rest of Christmas day swimming in the lake and getting sunburned, and then recovering from our sunburn by not moving for several hours. I should mention that Jay and Ross are MUCH more pale than I, and even I was suffering from some sun pain. Ouch. But we survived, and on Boxing Day we moved our celebration onward to Maji Zuwa, a lodge in Karonga- the owner is a great friend of ours. Here at Maji Zuwa, we proceeded to celebrate CHEESEMAS, as we had pooled our money to buy a giant block of cheese. Our dinner consisted of several courses of cheese-centric food- grilled cheese, mac and cheese, bruschetta, etc. It was amazing, and damn, did my stomach hurt. That night we also decorated the table with fake snow from my parents, and proceeded to play an epic game of beer pong, our first in country. It was a wonderful Cheesemas, and I hope we will all celebrate again next year. For new years I celebrated by making a short trip to Nkahta Bay where there were TONS of Peace Corps volunteers- volunteers from all over Malawi, and even volunteers from Zambia and Mozambique! (See how alluring Lake Malawi is?? You should come check it out for yourself!!) We did lots of lake swimming and went to a pretty kickin’ DJ’ed new year’s party, where there were actually fireworks!! I don’t even think I’ve been anywhere in my past few new years’ in America where there was fireworks, so yeah, it was pretty cool! School has started up again, and boy, it is neverending work. I need to say this for the written record- teachers have the hardest job, anywhere in the world- and in no way am I lumping myself under the ‘teacher’ umbrella, since I teach two classes on a subject some might consider ‘fluff’. Teachers everywhere have their work cut out for them and their job is so important! So teachers of the world, I salute you. Anyhoo, most of my students, at least on the Malawi grading scale, passed my exam at the end of last term in December. I am still pretty happy about this- a few of my students even got “Distinction” marks, meaning, pretty flipping good marks. At the same time, I think my students are capable of more, and I’m really pushing them this term to prove it- an effort I do not think they are enjoying, as it has ended with me not being that fun and punishing students who do not comply. Sigh. Tough love I guess, still figuring it all out. It is hard work! My beekeepers have voiced that they are definitely interested in the training for top bar beekeeping, and I promised I would pay half the training cost if they come up with the rest, so they are working on collecting that money. I hope it works out! Otherwise, here at the health center we have planted 15 plots of moringa seeds. The moringa tree is basically a miracle tree, with numerous benefits to consuming the leaves and other parts of the tree. At the end of an ideal rainy season, our seeds should have grown into small bushes, but our rainy season seems to be not so rainy, so I am a little worried. Nevertheless, I have a million more seeds and we will try try again! An HSA (health surveillance assistant) at my health center, Dennis, is going to be attending natural medicine training with me the first week of March. We are going to learn much more about the uses and benefits of moringa, along with numerous other plants here in Malawi. I am really really excited about what we are going to learn, and I know Dennis is looking forward to learning new things too and sharing them with the community here in Mlowe. My previously mentioned lodge owner friend Matt, is also the head of a non-profit called Determined to Develop, and after we have our training, Dennis and I are going to plan a training thru the non-profit to benefit some of the people in that area, about 50kilometers north of Mlowe. I am so excited that there were will be so many beneficiaries of the training beyond Dennis and I- it’s a beautiful thing about the work we try to do here! As many of you have heard, Patti the puppy, has had puppies- which I guess means Patti is no longer a puppy, and instead, is a teenage mother. But yes! Patti gave birth to 4 healthy puppies while I was in Lilongwe in January- I left my very pregnant dog on a Wednesday, came home on Tuesday to 4 little pups. They are EXTREMELY cute, and although I know nothing about pups, I think they are pretty fat, which is a feat here for sure. There are two boys and two girls, and both of the boys have already been claimed- meaning, there are two little sweet girl puppies looking for homes people!! Any volunteers (or friends of volunteers) interested in a puppy, you can have one of these grade-A pups FO FREE with FREE DELIVERY!! By me!! What more could you ask for?? If you are interested contact me ASAP!! Pups will be ready beginning in March!! As many of you know, I will be returning to America for a visit soon soon- I fly out of Malawi on April 24th, arrive back in Malawi on May 21st. For now my for-sure plans include speaking to the sociology department at my alma mater, St. Mary’s College of Maryland, and going on a short vacation to Williamsburg, Virginia. I’m also hoping to speak at my old high school. Besides also planning on eating pizza every single day, I hope to see all you people out there!! So please be in touch with me so we can make some awesome plans!! There are so many things I want to do while I am home, people I want to see, and foods I want to eat. It should be a pretty amazing trip.Hope you all are doing great! Miss you tons!

For those of you who know me and my Lazy Photo Eye (LPE)....I thought you would apprecitate these. The first was taken without the "1,2,3 Tyra" with very unfortunate results. Seriously guys, its works. I stand as medical proof.

Peace Corps’ 50th Anniversary was in 2011 – I am excited to be apart of Peace Corps’ 50th year and I can’t help but appreciate thosevolunteers who served before me – especially in the first few years when PeaceCorps had no idea what they were really getting into. Cheers to 50 more years!

So you want to make your own wine, but you don’t own a vineyard?

Ingredients:Fruit or flavorings (amount vary – see below)4 kilograms sugar9 tablespoons of yeast (Brewer’s yeast is best, but baking yeast works too)½ cup strong tea1 liter Sobo (any flavor)Water

Materials:Two 20-liter plastic buckets with lidsOne bandana or similar piece of cloth

Bottling Materials (Optional):18-20 old booze bottles18-20 small squares cut from plastic bags18-20 rubber bandsFunnel

Instructions:Determine what you want your flavor your wine with. Almost any fruit oredible herb will work. The amount variesfor the type of flavoring you have chosen. Large fruits, such as mangoes, guavas, or bananas will take about 20individual fruits. Smaller things likemint leaves, lemon grass or chidede will take about 8 loosely packed cups. There are no set rules for thesemeasurements, so play around with them as much as you like. For large fruits, cut them into smallerpieces or mash them up a bit. For thingslike mint, bruise the leaves so that the flavor will be released.

1) Dissolve the 4 kgs of sugar with warm water in a clean plastic bucket2) Add the flavorings that you have decided on3) Add ½ cup of strong tea (this adds tannin that helps mellow the wine)4) Fill the bucket within 2-4 inches of the rim with warm water (leave roomfor foam)5) Sprinkle the 9 tablespoons of yeast on the surface of the water (stir in ifdesired)6) Cover and leave for 7-10 days7) Strain contents through CLEAN cloth into second CLEAN bucket to removesolids8) Leave for another 7-10 days and it’s ready for drinking

Bottling Option1) Take the finished product and funnel into clean old booze bottles2) DO NOT CAP! Fermentation is still taking place and the bottles will explode3) Seal the mouth of jars with plastic squares and rubber bands. This will allow room for expansion

So far I have made papaya, banana and lemon grass wine. Delicious! Play around with flavors and enjoy!

My motherboard crashed – ooh no!

Special thanks to…

Stefan for taking my computer to the computer guys for diagnosis andsalvaging my photos and videos of Malawi!

Dee for the new computer! It’slovely and fresh and thank you, thank you, thank you!

Dad for the hard drive to back it all up! Let’s hope this doesn’t happen again, but Dad always has the pre-problemsolution.

John for receiving my wild anti-technology e-mails with a smile (at least Ihope you’re smiling – you could be rolling your eyes)!

And now I’m back and blogging and life is good again! Gotta catch up…

Carolyn blurririly demonstrates the happiness of a giant Mariachi hat On the first night of New Years Alan and I went out to a Tex-Mex restaurant. Maybe I should explain. You know how there are twelve days of Christmas (theoretically I mean, I've only ever experienced one) well, in Edinburgh there are three days of New Years, which is referred to as "Hogmanny" (mercifully pronounced, Hogmanny).

We went out to Tex-Mex, because, even though Edinburgh is not known for it's latin flavored border cuisine, I had been craving Tex-Mex almost since I got here. This is because Tex-Mex is culturally inculcated into my system. It reminds me that no matter how far I travel, there are always cute waiters I can flirt with in Spanish, excellent friends, and a gigantic hat and mariachi band waiting for me back at home.
 So, on the Eve of New Year’s Eve Alan and I went out to a restaurant called “Pancho Villas”. That should have been our first clue. We sat down and were waited upon by a young man with a thick British accent (second clue) and I couldn't help noticing there were no tortilla chips on our table... or anyone else's (third clue, and we shoulda left).




Hey look, a bunch of people with torchesTo start, I ordered guacamole, which comes with a side of chips. The chips arrived cold, and when I asked the waiter if he could warm them up he responded with, “Like... how?” But then managed to take them away and imbue them with heat somehow. I then tasted the guacamole... and a small part of me died inside. It really did. I have never been more tempted in my life to become a chef, simply so that I could then go back to the kitchen, and make good guacamole.
 I fail to understand why Edinburgh - city of castles, enlightened thinking, celtic music, the deep fried Mars bars, and first (and so far only) Unesco world heritage site of literature cannot come up with good Tex-Mex food. It's really not that hard. It's tomato, cheese, salsa, and some form of meat or beans wrapped up in a tortilla. Every dish. You guys invented the telephone for gosh sake. You're the only society in the world that has managed to pull off having men walk around in skirts. You should be able to make good Tex-Mex!
 Don't get me wrong, the food was edible. It just wasn't... Tex-Mex. It was meat and cheese and salsa and beans and rice, but somehow... it wasn't quite right. Which was disappointing, but then we walked out of the restaurant into a very large crowd of people holding torches and I was reminded of why I love this city.

I should mention at this point that no one in the mob was holding pitch-forks, and that they were, in fact, part of a torch procession that wends its way throughout the city at the beginning of Hogmanny. In order to get to my dorm we actually had to wade through quite a bit of the crowd, which was fine for me as I'm small and fit through things, but a bit more nerve-wracking for Alan, whose head-height is most people's torch-height.
 My dorm is on the top of a hill. It has some pretty nice views of the city. These views are even more astounding when a huge line of people with torches (when I say huge, it spread for about a mile) is wending its way through the city. I immediately called Melissa, my photographically-inclined friend, to come down so we could get pictures. Getting pictures somehow turned into walking along with the crowd, and next thing we knew we were part of the parade.
 Here are some interesting facts about the city of Edinburgh: it closes when winds get above 100 km/h. In my dorm, we’re not allowed to prop our doors open, for fear of spreading fire and diseases. There are first aid kits on every floor of every building I have ever been to. And yet one day a year they allow an amazing influx of tourists (who are probably more-likely-than-usual to be inebriated) to carry torches all around the city.


Torch parade wending its way around the cityWitnessing this action, too, really does not improve one’s faith in humanity. A guy next to me, for example, decided not to use one of the many bins labelled “Put Torch Here” at the end of the parade route, and instead dropped the torch on the ground. Fortunately, in Edinburgh 90% of the days of the year dropping a torch on the ground won’t do anything. However, the torch did not go out. So the man began stamping on it. By the time the torch went out he wasn’t really paying attention, because he was now trying to stamp out the fire on his jeans. Which he did. But it still makes you wonder.
 At the end of the parade we climbed Calton Hill, which is an amazing lookout that offers fantastic 360 degree views of the city. Once on the hill we ended up standing right next to the place they were shooting fire-works off (again, from the city where it is illegal to prop my door open).

The next day was New Years Day. I was fairly excited to see what New Years in Edinburgh was like. There are two answers to this. 1) Crowded. 2) Crowded.

For New Years Eve Alan and I went out to an enormous street party, which I had bought tickets to because all my friends were going. And even though all of us did go, we didn’t really run into each other. That was because the party (which happened over a few blocks) was so crowded. How crowded was it? Well when my friends called to try to meet up with us, we couldn’t. We literally could not push a block through the crowd to find them. But then we listened to some celtic music, and watched some more fireworks, and I have to hand it to the city of Edinburgh, which was selling faux beer bottles that night. They look like glass, but they're plastic. Brilliant. Utterly brilliant. Every other city in the world should adopt this.

At midnight there were more fireworks, (always fireworks) and everyone sang Auld Lang Sine while holding hands in small circles of people. Which was really quite fun. New Years day Alan took off for Malawi, (I'm sure he was happy about the timing) and I packed up to go visit mom and dad in Kenya. More on that next week.

Thought I would share a few of the most attractive photos of myself. These are just a few pictures of my CURRENT injuries.

Image Below: Blood Blister from trying to close a gate. Stupid gate.

Image Right: Mysterious rash acquired in Mozambique. Yes, it is still around, and still getting worse, and itches like crazy. I don't have any idea what it is.

Comments or suggestions from dermatologists, Mozambicans, germaphobes, or my mother are welcome. (No, it is not mange. I would know)

Last week was marvelous. I felt that things were moving forward just as they should be. A moment of sheer certainty, my place here has had meaning. As someone who once explained their belief in déjà vu to me. They suggested that it’s a moment to tell you your life is on the right track; harmony and balance are present. I’m quite partial to this belief. I’m rather prone to déjà vu myself. It happens with startling frequency. And each time that moment of queasy verisimilitude happens, I eschew the cause to this.

One of these moments occurred as I sat by watching the youth club for Mhalaunda perform a drama and HOPE kit activities. They are preparing for the upcoming Youth Day at Embangweni, a small town roughly 15km from where I stay. Youth Day is a summit for youth, to display different activities they’ve been working on, to network with other villages, to dance, sing, and eat in the company of hundreds of other youth. It’s an understatement to say they’re excited. This is huge. They’ve been practicing for weeks now.

Chance is the one directing the “troupe.” She’s Mama Chavula’s niece, a girl I’ve grown quite fond of. She also was selected to represent Mhalaunda at Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) this past August. After watching her grow so much in that short week, I then asked her to be one of my esteemed counselors at Women2Women in December. Chance is taking it all in stride; she’s becoming quite the leader, shepherding her peers to be assertive and self-confident.

This week, she’s playing the role of director. She’s suggested the other members of the troupe play out several outcomes to a scenario, the boy-meets-girl type. One girl was to reply to the scenario that she’s not interested in what the boy has to offer; she wants to focus on school and abstain from relationships. One to reply that the boy and the girl may marry, but only if he remains faithful. One replies that they may have sex, but only if a condom is used. And the last pair, to continue a healthy, happy marriage the man and woman plan to be faithful while still using condoms.

And Chance directed the whole production, giving pointers, suggestions, supplying a way of phrasing to the actors. These actors are the youth of my village, the nurse’s daughter, the headmaster’s son, the reverend’s girl, the various kids (I suppose I should say adolescents) I see on a daily basis. Then upon the close of the drama, they performed the bridge activity. Chance, demonstrating for our small rehearsal audience, explained its symbolism. The bridge lies across troubled water full of dangers, herein recognized as snakes, crocodiles, and hippopotamuses. The plethora of dangers are an allusion to perils in life, those posed by early marriage, dropping out of school, unwanted pregnancy, etc. Across the troubled water there at first lies one bridge of two colors, one side white, and the other blue (this is essentially a long stick with a width of an inch and a half). Chance asked each of the actors to attempt a crossing. After much fanfare, they are of course practicing being theatrical here; many fall off, splashing into the waters of uncertainty. Only two make it across safely. Chance elucidates. The white and blue bridge is to symbolize abstinence and being faithful. Yet few cross to their future relying on that method alone, hence the two lonely actors on the other side. Chance adds on to the bridge, a counterbalancing stick of yellow, making the cross all the more facile. This part of the bridge is condom use and accurate information about sex. Each of the actors then crossed the dual bridge. This time everyone made it across, making that final step with an exuberant cry of “Nditha!” Meaning “I can!” An affirmation that one may pursue their future without being mired in the dangers that afflict life.

It was well done. A performance that’s sure to knock the socks off the other programs at Youth Day. The kids think they have a showstopper and I tend to agree.

I sat and observed the show, only to participate when I crossed to give my peremptory “Nditha!” I recognized that my role was only to advise and otherwise marvel at the agency Chance has taken in this instance. It felt good. I know that Chance has adopted and incorporated the many teachings she’s been exposed to through GLOW and Women2Women. She’s effloresced under mentors and proper role models. And I’ve had the pleasure of watching her bloom. She takes such initiative and care, now steering her peers to be more self-assured, confident, and well-informed. Her guidance is empowering more now. She’s paying it forward.

I looked on and marveled. A bit proud. I know I’ve had an impact with at least one young woman – and by the transitive property perhaps more. But even the thought that Chance will go on empowering others that makes all my time here worth it.

Chance and me at Women2Women

My parents were apart of a migration to the west coast in the 1970's and by default I became I Californian. There's nothing quite like being able to say I was born and raised (for at least a good portion of my underage life) in sunny San Diego. It almost always draws a positive reaction from whoever has asked about my hometown. Most often people love to relate the great feelings they have for the city after a vacation/business trip with a dream-like haze in their eyes and a smile on their face. I certainly can't complain about being raised in one of the world's best year-round climates that's seasons are described as "nice, nice, nice, and a little chilly". Not only is San Diego beautiful, but it offers an abundance of activities from the world-famous San Diego Zoo to Sea World, Balboa Park full of museums, and a great local music scene. Don't get me started on the plethora of food options.

How many places in the world could you start your day on the water, surfing as the sun rises, and finish in the mountains, tearing your way down the slopes? San Diego offers both activities within a 1 1/2 hour drive. Like any major city, San Diego does have its traffic. Luckily you'll never spend 4 hours sitting on the freeway, creeping along 15 miles an hour like a certain city to the north *cough LA cough cough*. And while we're talking about unfavorable northern neighbors, San Diego offers a great hometown feel. People are generally pleasant and helpful. It's not uncommon to run into someone you know while shopping throughout the city. Not to big, not to small. Just right.

San Diego truly is America's Finest City.

"Girls and Women"

I might not do much in these past couple months of my service, but if I do anything, it will be on my long walks to and from the office every day, walking with young girls knocking off and going to school throughout the day. They might not remember what I’ve done for work, but I at least will have crammed their young impressionable and tender minds with my strange, liberal thoughts of gender equality and self progression. I find myself saying these same strange things over and over:

Topic Numero Uno: The troubling eternity that is hopelessly inescapable village life and its relation to education.

“Usamatamangire chikwokwati, anyamata, chiyani chiyani. Pitirizani ku school, Khalani serious. Ukamaliza, udzadziwa moyo wa bwino kwambiri. Sudzadandaula za zokudya pafupifupi, sudzatunga madzi tsiku ndi tsiku, kutaya nthawi ako kuyesesa kupeza nkuni. Zimenezo, eyai. Usamavitike choncho eyai. Ndimakufinira moyo wa bwino.”

Translation:

“You shouldn’t be always running toward early marriage, and chasing boys, what what. Continue with school and be serious about it. After you finish, you can know a very good life. You won’t have to worry about food all the time, you won’t have to fetch water every day, or waste your time looking for firewood to cook on. These things, no. You shouldn’t be troubled like that, no. I want you to have a good life.”

Topic Numero Dos: Relationship/Marriage/Gender equality in terms of sexual and physical abuse (Of course addressing this topic is why I had to leave my old site, and why it is so important to me. I breach the topic often, but tread lightly.):

“Mudziwa chiyani? Kwathu, mamunayo, amakamenya asamayi, apolice, amamumangira, amapita ku jail mpaka zaka zambiri. Amakafuna kugona ndi akazi wake, ngati akazi safuna, ndi chimodzimodzi kuguirira. Amapitaso ku jail. Kathuwaso, anthu, amakalowa mu jail, samathuluka sanga ingati kuno. Kuno, amakalowa mu jail, mawa amathuluka. Amangosalamo umo nthawi ayithali kwambiri. Ifeyo, asamayi, tisamawope asibambo. Tikhale limodzi, kuchezana, kuguirizana, kugayirana, basi, osati kumenyana, eyai.”

Translation:

“Do you know what? Where I’m from, men, after they beat a women, the police arrest them, they go to jail for many years. Even after they want to sleep with their wives, if the woman doesn’t want to, it is the same as rape. They go to jail for that too. Where I’m from after people go to jail, they don’t get out quickly. It’s different from here where when people go to jail for these things, they get out the next day. They just stay in there for a long time. We women, we shouldn’t be afraid of men. We should be together as one, chatting, agreeing, sharing, that’s all, not fighting each other.”

Note: The most devastating part of this conversation (which, believe you me I have every week, minimum) is that women are always SHOCKED to find out that in America, men go to jail for raping and beating their wives, and not only do they go to jail, they stay in there to rot until we decide they’re decent enough for society again. When I say shocked, I mean open mouth, jaw dropped shocked. The response is immediately, “that would never work here” or “do you hear what she’s saying? “ like every single women is being beat and raped by her husband (which is common here I know for a fact. If I had a nickel for every time I heard a man say, “it’s her duty to satisfy me, she can’t refuse, she’s my wife,” I would be sickened by how rich I would be) and the thought that someone doesn’t have to live like that is shocking to them. It breaks my heart every time.

I’m sure these girls get sick of my lectures but they like talking to the crazy white girl so they have to listen to them. As far as I’m concerned, one day, even if its way in the future one of them will listen to me.; On that day, but not before that, my entire two years of service to this country will be justified and I will feel, in my soul, through an internal, intercontinental, sisterly bond, that I did something worthwhile, and I will smile and be proud. I feel for these girls who will grow up to be troubled, trapped, abused, un-liberated.

In other news, I can tell it’s time to move along, away from Malawi as the following songs are popping up more and more frequently on my playlists by no intention of my own (much like before I came to Malawi):

“So Long, It’s Been Good to Know You” –Woody Guthrie

“Gotta Travel On” –Au Go-Go Singers

“Hard Road to Travel” –Jimmy Cliff

“Midnight Rider” –The Allman Brother’s Band

“Wagon Wheel” –Old Crow Medicine Show

That kind of thing. Oh subconscious, you are what you are and you know its time.

Bad news. Yesterday, I accidentally deleted all the music off of my ipod. 7000 songs! 30GB! All gone! Ironically enough, I was trying to back them up on my hard drive but before I did that I decided to delete a playlist. Due to the computer being slow, I just closed the program, only to find later that there was nothing on my iPod. I’m upset about it but trying not to lose my cool. I keep reminding myself that it’s all backed up at home. Thanks goodness! At least I have space for all that Malawian music I like, now...

Yesterday, to distract myself from flipping out over the one thing that has been keeping me relatively sane, I made mango wine. Two weeks until its ready. Something about squishing the life out of each mango and then throwing the pit at the goats that wake me up every morning baaaaahhhhhing, made me feel better.

In other other news: How about that super bowl game? How about that halftime show? Huh? Huh?

The assignment: Write 3 sentences using the conjunction "and" and three using the conjunction "but."

Answers:

Take my face and give me yours.

I like my life and my feuture.

Girls and boys are future of Malawi but what colour of uniform?

Thank you, Malawi.

Greetings All,

Michele and I are once again in Lilongwe getting ready to start out Permaculture Design Certificate Course on Monday. We are pretty excited for it and even more excited that it is taking place at one of our 'Homes Away from Home' at African Bible College (ABC). Check these folks out (Kristof and Stacia Nordin): www.neverendingfood.org. They are former Peace Corps Volunteers who served near Lilongwe and now live just across the road from where they did their service at Chitedze Agriculture Research Center. Kristof is the one doing our training at ABC. They are both really active in the agriculture, nutrition and sustainable development world here in Malawi. We are hoping to learn a lot this week and the second week which will take place in mid-April. We want to put together a training for our site area that would run from around late-April through November. It would encompass many of the Permaculture principals and practices, natural medicine and nutrition. We are in the process of identifying Malawian trainers that could assist us and reduce the need for a translator as that makes trainings last much longer and can confuse everyone a lot more. We are hoping to do a few trainings a month (maybe more?) on each topic and give participants a chance to implement and come back with questions, problems or lessons learned. One of the biggest issues with trainings or programs we have seen is a big emphasis on training but a problem with follow up after trainings are completed. Hopefully, by providing a longer term training program we can take advantage of our place in the community and better help figure out problems or concerns the community has as they attempt to implement different practices in to their gardens and daily practices.

Recently, we have been blessed with being able to listen to a pastor named Francis Chan. He was (and possibly still is?) a pastor of Cornerstone in Simi Valley, California. We both had heard of him but had never listened to his teachings or read any of his books. While we were in Mozambique we stayed with some missionaries who shared Francis Chan's podcasts with us and we have recently started listening to them. They have been a breath of fresh air in many ways and really convicting/challenging to us as Christians. As many of you know it has been difficult for us to feel fed spiritually while here in Malawi for a variety of reasons, one of which being that we live in a rural African setting where all the church services take place in the local vernacular. While we are still trying to be involved with the Seventh-Day Adventist Mission we live next to, we also realize that we can only have so much impact with our limited language skills and also given that the culture of 'religion' here makes engaging people more difficult as well. So, we are finding these podcasts to be encouraging us to be more bold (hopefully?) with sharing our faith in our community and with our fellow volunteers as well. That said, we still need a lot of prayer for our walks with God, our marriage and our relationships with everyone we encounter. That we can be good stewards of the grace God has given us and simply be free to share that with those around us and let God do the rest.

On to decisions! Recently, Michele and I have been talking to the group of volunteers who are finishing up their service in a few months time. They are excited and nervous for their next steps which is making Michele and I think more about what our next steps will be as well. We are also being encouraged by folks to start 'looking' at what we may want to to be doing when we finish up here in Malawi. Logistically, this is no easy task because of the poor internet connectivity but also difficult on a practical level because in many ways we have changed and our mindset for what we may want in our future has changed. Before we left the States, Michele had completed everything she needed to apply for Physical Therapy School. I was in the process of taking my LSAT for possibly applying to Law School. We have been re-learning what we value and want out of life and are trying to figure out what that looks like coming back to America. It's not to say that we don't want to or can't work abroad but I guess our default thinking is that we will stay in the States until we start knocking on other doors or other doors are shown to us. Michele is battling in her mind how to integrate more public health work in to what she would want to do for a career, this could still involve going to Physical Therapy School and just integrating a certificate or extra courses along that line...or it could mean a completely different path that maybe Michele can elaborate on herself in a future post. For myself, I continue to love working outdoors and helping folks here understand different appropriate technologies for their gardens to help increase yields, soil fertility and garden health. It is really gratifying to share simple technologies such as composting crop residues, covering fields with crop residues to protect the soil and planting trees for fertility and food. The difficult part is of course the behavior change of those we work with but that is a problem the world around. I'm not really sure where to go with those thoughts back in the States. Options could include working with NGO's in project implementation or design, the one that sticks out like a sore thumb is Plantwithpurpose.org. Regardless, I would need to go to school and I guess the direction is still unclear as to what path that would be. I also think that I would enjoy and do well at some sort of Environmental Law profession and even think I would like to teach at a community college level or even university level. I guess I am just not sure if those two paths described above, NGO work and Law/Teaching, are mutually exclusive. In looking up some stuff for Michele yesterday on schools and different programs she could be interested in, I found myself even thinking that these programs that she is basically ready for could be a good fit for the things that I have been learning here and a good outlet for my energies focused around food, agriculture and the the environment. I guess one of the biggest fears for us both is investing our time and maybe more important, lots of money, in to school and come out of it as many come out of their undergraduate schooling and as many more are coming out of graduate school, completely lost and in debt! We have even thrown around the idea of doing something similar to what we doing here as our career and even different missionaries are making us think outside the box. As you can see, we are starting to think more and more about these things and need lots of prayer. Because, even thought I said 'we' are trying to figure out what 'we' want out lives to look like like, we really want to honor God with what we do and serve His kingdom as best we can. It would also be nice if He just told us which direction to go but in the absence of a burning bush or some other sign we just need prayer to be attentive to the still-small voice of God and be open to words of wisdom from friends, family and even strangers as we begin to think about the future.

Phew, that was a lot of stuff huh? The last part was a big rant that I am sure Michele has some different opinions and ideas that she may follow up on in the future but for now just know we are having a great time and really dreaming for the future. If anyone out there has any thoughts, ideas or questions please share them. We love you all and really could not be doing this here without all of your support. Some of you have been sending us care packages so often that we have to tell you to stop, others are great at giving us words of encouragement right when we need them and some are even trying to come visit us. I am sure we will have another big post in a week or so after our training so keep your eyes peeled!

Love,

Ryan + Michele

Welcome to the second month of 2012. Who would have guessed it huh? This time last year I was on the verge of going nuts because the plane left in 27 days and as far as I could tell I was about as prepared for Africa as Hannibal was crossing the Alps. But unlike Hannibal, I have succeeded and haven’t had to deal with dead elephants, only live ones, which I promise are more interesting to watch.Lately though things have been a little slow in the village. The school project keeps going, pang’ono pang’ono, little by little. The biggest obstacle we have hit is the lack of cement . We need 26 bags to finish, the porch, waterways (they channel the rain water away), and plaster on the top of the exterior walls. But you’re thinking, “So what, it’s just a little cement. It’s like what, three bucks a bag?” Well, no. The currency here, the Malawian kwacha, is pretty much worthless. Currently, the bank’s exchange rate is 1 USD=174 MK and one bag of cement is roughly 4100 MK, so you do the math. 4100/174= 23.56, yup, that’s how many dollars one bag of cement here is. Whoopie. And at 26 bags of cement that comes out to a little over $600 just for cement. So I have been working on a SPA (Small Projects Assistance) grant, not fun, lots of paper work. Hopefully I’ll have it done at the end of the month and can turn it in then. If it wasn’t for the lack of foreign currency and the fuel shortage, Malawi would be fantastic. And don’t get me wrong, I love Malawi, the people are nice, the weather isn’t bad, the lake is fantastic and there is a bunch of cool stuff to see but living is getting too expensive. When I first got to country it cost me about 800MK to get from Nkhotakota to Lilongwe, and the same to go back. Now, only one year later, I will pay over 1000MK. I know it doesn’t sound like a lot but consider this; we don’t get paid in USD, we get paid in MK and prices for everything else keep going up too. Bread, eggs, everything. We got a 10% increase a few months ago but right afterwards the devalued the kwacha and priced jumped again. Hopefully we are getting another raise soon but they are talking about devaluing the kwacha again. Yay.It’s just a vicious loop. We can’t buy fuel because no one wants the Kwacha, we have to buy it with foreign currency, but there is no for-ex to buy fuel because no one wants to invest in a country with a fuel problem. It’s a real problem for us PCVs, prices shoot up way faster than our living allowance surveys can get our 10% raise. I know very few volunteers who haven’t had to dip into money back in the states. It kinda sucks, trying to eat, knowing you have to get to Lilongwe or somewhere else and pay for all kinds of things, before the end of the month. And if you are trying to get somewhere then good luck. Hitching out of my site to Nkhotakota boma has gone from rough to pretty much impossible. From there you might get a ride going south but there is very little that goes north along the lake shore. Mini buses still run but they’ll really give you a bad price now. But we do it, what else can you do. A lot of people have talked about how transport really takes it out of you now. We like being in Lilongwe (or where ever) and we like being at site but that in between bit is rough. There is a lot of mental preparation that goes into a transport day. It has always been like that but lately I think it is worse. If there are any trainees from the new group coming in March who are reading this, don’t freak out! I’m not trying to scare you, I know this post would not have helped me feel better but you’ll be ok. You need to realize something coming into this. It’s still just life, life in a new place and you will have a lot to learn but you’ll get the hang of it, I promise! Look forward to seeing you all next month! Now stop reading every blog you can find and go get some sleep.

So... I just got confirmation today that the PCPP grant to build a school library for the Muloza L. E. A. Primary School has been FULLY FUNDED!!!

A huge, heartfelt thank you to EVERYONE who helped by getting the word out, donating to the project, or who helped with both!!!! I will keep everyone updated on the project, hopefully with pictures if the internet cooperates. Thanks again!

“This Year”

2012, the year the world ends (just kidding…yes, we get that here too).

This year, though new, has already proven to be an interesting start to the year I leave Malawi. After New Year celebrations had died down and I had been in Lilongwe for about 8 days, I got sick. Malaria. I got better, after a bit. A friend of mine told me that I have now been “baptized by mosquitoes. Welcome to Malawi!” how chummy. Here’s what happened:

I was sitting on the computer working on my grad school applications (completed and submitted, now) when I started to feel…funny, is the best way I can describe it. Within the hour I was feverishly shivering on the couch. Since I was in the PC office, I went into the medical office for them to take my temperature. They said I had no fever and to go sleep and take lots of fluids. I went back to the lodge I was staying at and slept for hours under all the blankets I could manage to scrounge up. The next day I felt bad but mobile. The day after that, the same thing happened but more severe. Shivering, sweats, spinning, incapacitated. This time, however, I had a fever. They put me in the bed in the back room so I could lie down underneath blankets (something about them not wanting me moaning and shivering on the couch in the front room, strange).

Evelyn (our wonderful nurse whom we love): *petting my face* “Oh you feel bad, I know. I’ve never seen Amy sick before!”

They took a blood test, ++ Malaria. The best we can figure is that I must have missed a dose of my doxycycline while traveling all night from the islands (which works out given Malaria has about an 8 day incubation period). Anyway, they gave me Cordium, or “La” for medication. The first night was bad but after that I started to feel better every day. Now, I feel great (so don’t worry, Grandma).

So they had me shut up in the back room of the medical office trying to sleep while my grad school deadlines were ticking away. Sleeping when you have stuff to do doesn’t work, no matter how sick you are.

Jail-brake.

There’s a loud Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz sound that goes off when that door opens. I was trying to make my way to productivity when I had been caught. All I saw was Evelyn running at me yelling, “My patient!!!” After I spent the next 5 minutes explaining about the applications and deadlines and how I promise not to die and if I get worse I’ll come back, I promise but for now I have to get work done. She was concerned but finally let me go after making me take aspirin, a bottle of water, and a blanket. Back to work.

Nobody told me that the first night after you start the medication is the worst part because I was “lost” in the next building, working. As it turns out, as the parasite is leaving your body, it releases toxins, causing the patient to want to puke her brains out. Fortunately, my good friends Tom and Colin were with me. They made me soup. I slept eventually. That was the worst of it. I just took things slowly for the next week.

Since then, I finished my applications.

Next up Close of Service Conference! 21 people in, 15 out. We learned all sorts of handy things, like exactly how to end our service (in paperwork), how to say goodbye to people in our communities, what to expect upon our return home, ect, ect.

76 Days and one wake-up left before I leave Malawi (a bit shout out to Bri’s dad for this new counting method).

So here I am living it up in the Chiradzulu, living the village life, for two more months. Then I’m gone, like a bat in the night, back the land of plenty, to forget this funny language I’ve managed to learn. I have told my co-workers when I’m leaving and that, no, I will not be extending my contract, no matter what you tell me.

“But Amy, think of all the good you could do with women’s development and empowerment in the village with your Chichewa!” (not my primary project making this suggestion somewhat random).

“I’ve already been here two years that’s commitment enough for now, besides, I’m tired of living without a fridge. Maybe I’ll come back someday if I can manage to find a job that will provide that…and after I see my family.”

In other news, my neighbor is pregnant. I thought she was gaining weight. After I confronted her I found out that not only is she expecting, but she’s 6 months pregnant! The baby is due in March, she wants me to name it. The second I found out she was pregnant, I gave her my vitamins and my extra mosquito net. Now I have to think of a name. She said she wanted to get pregnant before I leave so I can name the baby and she can remember me forever….how’s that for attachment. I told her that was sweet but stupid and she’s too young for babies. Evidentially, she ignored that advice. It also turns out that at the time I told her that, she was already pregnant. Life is funny like that, but, she’s happy, so I’m happy for her. She’s twenty-one.

Now, I’m sitting in my office while two men are talking about relationship issues. Cultural exchange is interesting. I’ll say no more on the subject except this, the man seeking advice from the other man just informed me (at my inappropriately bringing up the batman which seems to happen to me a lot) that batman is the anti-Christ. I don’t think I will associate with him anymore. Batman! Can you imagine? The things you hear here, they never fail to surprise.

So I’m here, finding things to entertain myself (mostly Kurt Vonnegut books) until it is time to say goodbye and make my way out of Malawi for the first time since 2010. Eventually, I’ll go back to my old village and say goodbye to all the people there. Judging by how hard it was for them to say goodbye to my parents and Diana after just a few days, I don’t see it being easy. I love them, and they love me. They keep calling me asking when I’m coming. I’ll go, I’ll go. I want to go every week; I’m just trying to keep my distance for the sake of the volunteer who is there working now.

So that’s pretty much what’s been going on here. If you’ll excuse me, I need a break to go and buy bananas. We’ve been paid, you see, so I can, yet again, afford banana’s (or I will at least after I go to the bank tomorrow, I was just lucky enough to find some loose change in my wallet). No bananas, only mangos. Mango mango mango. There are only so many mangos a girl can consume in a period of time, and this year’s mango season’s mango tolerance is less than that of last year. I still like them, but a banana is nice. Did you know that time flies like an arrow? Also fruit flies like a banana. Also, Amy likes a banana. I wonder if bananas are as delicious in the land of plenty as they are here? I doubt it. I should eat nothing but bananas for the next coming days so that I’m sick of them by the time I get home and will, therefore, never need to be disappointed. Unhealthy re-adjustment idea, this is.

I’m still hung up on this batman thing. I stand up for batman.

Feel free to stop reading if you have better things to do, from here, I digress. I’m on lunch break and have nothing else to do but ramble in your direction.

Did I ever explain the title change up top?

Adventures of Amy Adventures of Nambewe

Nambewe, is my Malawian name. It’s a clan name, with the Na-indicating that I’m female. Had I been a man I would have been Mbewe. But I’m NAmbewe: female. Anyway, being given a traditional clan name is a sign of respect and cultural integration. I’m proud of it. Others call me Nachisale, which is a different name. Others call me Emma. That’s not a nickname, that’s a mispronunciation of Amy. I’ve come to like the name Emma, though because that’s what the people I love in Mulanje call me.

Other noteworthy accomplishments: Nokia phones have a game called snake. I am a snake master.

Prepare yourselves for me, I’m almost home! Then again, it’s been explained to me that almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades…so we’ll see what happens.

This past December, I planned and conducted the third Malawi Music Project in the capital city of Lilongwe Malawi (with lots of help of course). I was a counselor at the previous camp which was started by Peace Corps volunteers three years ago and was so happy to help keep it going. My past year with Music Crossroads has been such a rich and rewarding experience, and I was happy that they were willing to partner with Peace Corps to keep the camp not only moving forward, but getting stronger and stronger. Check out the following article written by PC volunteer, Brianna Scroggins:

LILONGWE, MALAWI, AFRICA December 2011

Lackson Chazima, a well-dressed man with pressed white shirt, black dress pants and polished black shoes and belt claps his hands in a three eighth note progression. The circle of three dozen people around him replicate his actions.

Clap. Stomp. Clap.

Clap. Stomp. Clap.

Clap-Clap-Clap. Stomp. Clap.

Clap-Clap-Clap. Stomp. Clap.

“Ho! Ho! Ha!”

“Ho! Ho! Ha!” The group’s voice echoes off the concrete floors and walls.

“Brrerrrrerrrrerrrr. HA!”

“Brrerrrrerrrrerrrr. HA!”

After a brief silence the group realizes the warm-up exercise is over and bursts into laughter. Chazima, 40, from Lilongwe, Malawi, is a music theory teacher and vocal trainer for Music Crossroads Malawi, an NGO that helps develop the musical environment in this small East African country. He leads the group back to its seats to continue the second day of the Malawi Music Project.

Peace Corps Volunteers started this annual music camp two years earlier with just 15 participants. Malawi Music Project Coordinator, Phillip Rich, 30, from Montrose, Colorado, is a second-year Peace Corps Volunteer who started working with Music Crossroads Malawi nine months ago. To strengthen the effectiveness, diversity and sustainability of the music camp, Rich decided to make Music Crossroads Malawi a key partner in running the camp.

“I was a counselor at the previous music camp and it was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life,” Rich explains. “What I am seeing right now is a lot of cooperation between the students, the Crossroads staff and the Peace Corps Volunteers. It’s a fantastic collaboration because one thing that we share from all over the world is a love for music. It’s one language that we all speak.”

The Malawi Music Project is a weeklong music camp for aspiring young musicians who practice instruments and vocals. Participants attend lessons on music composition and harmony, rhythm, improvisation, singing a cappella, music appreciation and different styles of music from across Africa. They also learn about traditional drumming, handling of electric instruments, stage presence and audio engineering.

Second -year education Volunteer, Chris Murphy, 40, from Los Angeles, California, is a counselor at the Malawi Music Project and taught music appreciation. The group used traditional wraps called “chitenjes” to blindfold themselves before listening to different styles of music from across Africa.

“Music heals the youth of all countries, inspires them, accepts them, guides them in their future,” Murphy explains. “You can’t grow up a bully and follow the beat of harmonious melodies at the same time.”

What makes the Malawi Music Project more than just a music camp is its additional lessons on HIV/AIDS and discussions on other social issues Malawians face.

“As a musician, I am at high risk of contracting HIV/AIDS especially when we’ll be known worldwide,” singer Chrispin Kachilika, 16, from Mulanje District in Malawi, explains, “so if I want to live a long and healthy life, I should use the ABC [Abstinence, Being faithful and using Condoms] methods so that my talent should not be killed.”

Gayighayi Matthews Mfune, 41, of Lilongwe, Malawi, is the Director of Music Crossroads Malawi and Co-organizer of the Malawi Music Project.

“Using music as a medium can affect the social environment of our young people,” Mfune explains. “There are various issues such as HIV/AIDS and environment where Peace Corps is also very much involved. So we found it a very good thing to partner with them for this Malawi Music Project where we will be addressing these issues through music. Once [the participants] have been empowered through music we expect that when they go back to their areas they will continue with these songs that they will address these various issues in their villages.”

Laughter Liwotcha, 12, from Balaka, Malawi, has been playing the keyboard for two years and wants to be a musician promoting positive topics.

“My father inspires me to be a musician because he’s also a musician who plays guitar, keyboard and harmonica. I want people to hear my message and my message is the prevention of HIV/AIDS.”

As the end of each day participants gather together in “bands” to write a song on HIV/AIDS, the environment, women’s empowerment, or any other social issue. Peace Corps Volunteers and Junior Counselors (participants who have attended previous camps) assist the bands as they work. At the completion of the camp, each band performs their song on stage.

First-year Peace Corps Volunteer, Andrew Goforth, 37, from Spartanburg, South Carolina, plays guitar and mandolin and sings. As a counselor at the Malawi Music Project, Goforth is working with “Angel Band,” a roots-oriented band that uses acoustic guitar and traditional drums and is singing about HIV/AIDS.

“Music is one of the most important things in my life,” Goforth explains. “I couldn’t imagine life without it and I feel it is important to give people a chance to experience music at an early age. It gives them an outlet for expression where they can be themselves and not feel any pressure from peers about how they may or may not feel about something. It is a part of their culture that is quickly disappearing.”

After the battle of the bands on the final day, the participants’ progress was undeniable.

“The kids’ improvement really showed at the battle [of the bands],” Rich said. “They not only used the messages and techniques they were exposed to, but were confident in doing so on stage. It’s really inspiring to see young people become confident in who they are simply because someone took the time to encourage their talents. Simply believing in someone can change you both for the better.”

Kondwani Kalukusha, 21, from Nkhotakota District, Malawi, has been playing guitar and singing for eight years. Hand-making his first guitar of three strings and gradually adding to five strings, Kondwani’s passion for music is undeniable.

“I have learned how to play the electric guitar and I am very, very happy,” Kalukusha explains. “So the purpose of this skill is not to move back but to move forward so that I can see and I can obtain the real meaning of this skill. I am a musician and I will be a musician for the rest of my life.”

For further information on Music Crossroads Malawi, the Malawi Music Project or Peace Corps Malawi:

mcmalawi@music-crossroads.net

www.music-crossroads.net

www.peacecorpsmalawi.org

philrich66@gmail.com

For photos:

https://picasaweb.google.com/101408737177664181443/MalawiMusicProject2011#

This past December, I planned and conducted the third Malawi Music Project in the capital city of Lilongwe Malawi (with lots of help of course). I was a counselor at the previous camp which was started by Peace Corps volunteers three years ago and was so happy to help keep it going. My past year with Music Crossroads has been such a rich and rewarding experience, and I was happy that they were willing to partner with Peace Corps to keep the camp not only moving forward, but getting stronger and stronger. Check out the following article written by PC volunteer, Brianna Scroggins:

LILONGWE, MALAWI, AFRICA December 2011

Lackson Chazima, a well-dressed man with pressed white shirt, black dress pants and polished black shoes and belt claps his hands in a three eighth note progression. The circle of three dozen people around him replicate his actions.

Clap. Stomp. Clap.

Clap. Stomp. Clap.

Clap-Clap-Clap. Stomp. Clap.

Clap-Clap-Clap. Stomp. Clap.

“Ho! Ho! Ha!”

“Ho! Ho! Ha!” The group’s voice echoes off the concrete floors and walls.

“Brrerrrrerrrrerrrr. HA!”

“Brrerrrrerrrrerrrr. HA!”

After a brief silence the group realizes the warm-up exercise is over and bursts into laughter. Chazima, 40, from Lilongwe, Malawi, is a music theory teacher and vocal trainer for Music Crossroads Malawi, an NGO that helps develop the musical environment in this small East African country. He leads the group back to its seats to continue the second day of the Malawi Music Project.

Peace Corps Volunteers started this annual music camp two years earlier with just 15 participants. Malawi Music Project Coordinator, Phillip Rich, 30, from Montrose, Colorado, is a second-year Peace Corps Volunteer who started working with Music Crossroads Malawi nine months ago. To strengthen the effectiveness, diversity and sustainability of the music camp, Rich decided to make Music Crossroads Malawi a key partner in running the camp.

“I was a counselor at the previous music camp and it was one of the most rewarding experiences of my life,” Rich explains. “What I am seeing right now is a lot of cooperation between the students, the Crossroads staff and the Peace Corps Volunteers. It’s a fantastic collaboration because one thing that we share from all over the world is a love for music. It’s one language that we all speak.”

The Malawi Music Project is a weeklong music camp for aspiring young musicians who practice instruments and vocals. Participants attend lessons on music composition and harmony, rhythm, improvisation, singing a cappella, music appreciation and different styles of music from across Africa. They also learn about traditional drumming, handling of electric instruments, stage presence and audio engineering.

Second -year education Volunteer, Chris Murphy, 40, from Los Angeles, California, is a counselor at the Malawi Music Project and taught music appreciation. The group used traditional wraps called “chitenjes” to blindfold themselves before listening to different styles of music from across Africa.

“Music heals the youth of all countries, inspires them, accepts them, guides them in their future,” Murphy explains. “You can’t grow up a bully and follow the beat of harmonious melodies at the same time.”

What makes the Malawi Music Project more than just a music camp is its additional lessons on HIV/AIDS and discussions on other social issues Malawians face.

“As a musician, I am at high risk of contracting HIV/AIDS especially when we’ll be known worldwide,” singer Chrispin Kachilika, 16, from Mulanje District in Malawi, explains, “so if I want to live a long and healthy life, I should use the ABC [Abstinence, Being faithful and using Condoms] methods so that my talent should not be killed.”

Gayighayi Matthews Mfune, 41, of Lilongwe, Malawi, is the Director of Music Crossroads Malawi and Co-organizer of the Malawi Music Project.

“Using music as a medium can affect the social environment of our young people,” Mfune explains. “There are various issues such as HIV/AIDS and environment where Peace Corps is also very much involved. So we found it a very good thing to partner with them for this Malawi Music Project where we will be addressing these issues through music. Once [the participants] have been empowered through music we expect that when they go back to their areas they will continue with these songs that they will address these various issues in their villages.”

Laughter Liwotcha, 12, from Balaka, Malawi, has been playing the keyboard for two years and wants to be a musician promoting positive topics.

“My father inspires me to be a musician because he’s also a musician who plays guitar, keyboard and harmonica. I want people to hear my message and my message is the prevention of HIV/AIDS.”

As the end of each day participants gather together in “bands” to write a song on HIV/AIDS, the environment, women’s empowerment, or any other social issue. Peace Corps Volunteers and Junior Counselors (participants who have attended previous camps) assist the bands as they work. At the completion of the camp, each band performs their song on stage.

First-year Peace Corps Volunteer, Andrew Goforth, 37, from Spartanburg, South Carolina, plays guitar and mandolin and sings. As a counselor at the Malawi Music Project, Goforth is working with “Angel Band,” a roots-oriented band that uses acoustic guitar and traditional drums and is singing about HIV/AIDS.

“Music is one of the most important things in my life,” Goforth explains. “I couldn’t imagine life without it and I feel it is important to give people a chance to experience music at an early age. It gives them an outlet for expression where they can be themselves and not feel any pressure from peers about how they may or may not feel about something. It is a part of their culture that is quickly disappearing.”

After the battle of the bands on the final day, the participants’ progress was undeniable.

“The kids’ improvement really showed at the battle [of the bands],” Rich said. “They not only used the messages and techniques they were exposed to, but were confident in doing so on stage. It’s really inspiring to see young people become confident in who they are simply because someone took the time to encourage their talents. Simply believing in someone can change you both for the better.”

Kondwani Kalukusha, 21, from Nkhotakota District, Malawi, has been playing guitar and singing for eight years. Hand-making his first guitar of three strings and gradually adding to five strings, Kondwani’s passion for music is undeniable.

“I have learned how to play the electric guitar and I am very, very happy,” Kalukusha explains. “So the purpose of this skill is not to move back but to move forward so that I can see and I can obtain the real meaning of this skill. I am a musician and I will be a musician for the rest of my life.”

For further information on Music Crossroads Malawi, the Malawi Music Project or Peace Corps Malawi:

mcmalawi@music-crossroads.net

www.music-crossroads.net

www.peacecorpsmalawi.org

philrich66@gmail.com

For photos:

https://picasaweb.google.com/101408737177664181443/MalawiMusicProject2011#

Recipe: Spinach Parmesian Risotto

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Ingredients

1/3c Rice

2c chopped Spinach

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1 small onion, chopped

1 tbsp Olive oil

Bit of parsley, if you so choose

Instructions

Pop the rice into the rice cooker. Meanwhile, sauté onions until translucent, add spinach and garlic and when spinach is just wilted add to rice. (So rice will be about halfway done in the rice cooker, and now you are just adding the spinach, onions and garlic in to cook along with the rice) After rice is finished grate in some parmesian and add salt and pepper to taste, add parsley to garnish.

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As classes started up this past week I began running into people I knew again, and starting up the old familiar conversation, “How are you, how was your vacation, how are classes?” a similar theme began to emerge. While everyone was (for the most part) happy with their classes, there was a reluctance to return to school. This is because while school is in session we tend to walk a well-worn path - home, school, library, home - and rarely deviate from it.

Then, suddenly, classes ended, and like patients waking from a coma we all suddenly realized we live in Edinburgh. There are numerous traditions, events, and attractions in Edinburgh. As I sat down trying to write a blog about the few of them that I experienced over the holidays I realized something: the blog was going to be ten pages long before I ever got through half. So here, in it’s place, is a small sampling of the things Alan and I did when I was FINALLY FINISHED WISH CLASS! (Finals were stressful, is that coming through adequately? I’m not sure, sometimes I think I’m too subtle).

1) Firstly, we went to bars. This may be shocking to some people who know me as not that big a drinker, but I’ll have them know that I ordered a whole pint of coke or sprite almost every night (no, seriously) and nursed it for a good three hours while listening to celtic music. The music in Scottish pubs is to me incomparable. Not least because it’s free, and certainly not least because you can join in (see photo). But only if you are Hannah.

Tree! (Photo cred Alan)2) We went out and (I) hugged some trees. Specifically Redwood trees. They were located at Edinburgh’s botanical gardens (about a mile from my house). The breadth of species in the garden is incredible. As are the number of birds. As is standing on top of a mountain filled with Chinese flora, and looking out over miles and miles of tightly packed buildings below you. Most incredible of all though, is getting outside and enjoying all six hours of daylight. Going to the library while it was still dark (at nine o’clock) and then coming home when it was dark (at four o’clock) was thoroughly depressing. (Really, finals were hard. Have I been clear about this?)

Attack of the birds (photo cred Alan)3) We fed the birds! This was really cool, as being able to throw bread in the air and watch the seagulls dive for it is amazing. I just wish I hadn’t ever watched “The Birds”.

4) We saw actual Reindeer (from Cairngorns National Park in Scotland)! I felt a bit sorry for them though, and wished they were back in Cairngorns National park.

Christmas Market5) We walked through the Christmas market. Or rather, sort of levitated with the flow of traffic through the Christmas market. But it was still cool to see all the food and kitschy stuff. The rides weren’t as cool. Especially as they took over Prince’s Garden, which is my running and peaceful space.

Stirling Castle6) We visited Stirling castle, which is the most beautiful castle I have seen so far in Scotland. It also has a very interesting history, which nice guides will tell you about for free, and has re-makes of the Unicorn tapestries (the originals of which are currently displayed in the cloisters in New York.) I tried asking a man dressed as the Queen’s regent if they were on display because they had once been in the castle, but apparently the actors in the castle all have to stay in character. It was very hard to phrase my question so that a man speaking as if the 16th century is present day could answer it.

Me: So those tapestries. Are they hanging in the castle now because they were here back in... now?

Regent: Excuse me madam?

Finally we worked it so that the regent said “we have records of different tapestries believed to be from the unicorn series on display over a few centuries.” Whoo!

7) We went to Edinburgh zoo to see the brand new pandas! Then watched the PENGUIN WALK! SO CUTE! (is it clear I think one of these is much more exciting than the other?) I then got kicked out early because 100km winds were knocking down trees. Which I thought was totally lame. It’s Edinburgh. Trees get knocked down. If you haven’t learned to dodge the errant flying trashcan yet, then you don’t belong here.

8) We headed down to London to see the sights. And the clock counting down to the Olympics. It was nice (especially an Italian dinner of buffalo mozzarella pizza) but I still prefer Edinburgh. I could spend a few weeks alone in the Victoria and Albert museum, though. The British museum may be bigger but to me nothing beats the sheer beauty of the Victoria and Albert. Maybe it’s something about layout, but the V&A makes you want to move in (or appropriate all the objects), while the British museum just makes me feel overwhelmed.

9) We travelled up to the highlands (because no one should come to Scotland without seeing the highlands). Initially, I was afraid the highlands would be cold, dark, and possibly slushy and dull. Instead, they looked like this. We stayed at the world’s cutest B&B by the seashore. It had a huge tub (with lion claw feet!) and I locked myself into the bathroom for about an hour, enjoying the bubble bath I had gotten for Christmas, and read a book. Though we didn’t go to Loch Ness, we did tour Fort George, an active fort, but also a historical landmark. Located on the Firth of Moray, it’s incredibly scenic, as well as being thoroughly interesting. There’s something to the highlands. Edinburgh is incredible, but it doesn’t have the same romance as the highlands. You arrive up there and you just feel peaceful - as though any minute sweeping music is going to start playing in the background. Everything you see seems straight out of a book, and eventually you realize that is because the highlands is what people write about. Whenever you open a book hoping to escape, the highlands, in one form or another, is where you are trying to go. Also, cows. CUTE cows!

10) We climbed Arthur’s seat at Holyrood park. Holyrood park is a tailor-made escape in the middle of the city. Here, Alan and I stand on top of Arthur’s seat (the historical significance of which no one can really figure out although they are quick to state Arthur is very frequently and validly associated with Scotland). Arthur’s seat offers great 360 views of the city. I could wander Holyrood for days.

Dang guys, I’m way happy here. I mean cooking is still a pain in the ass and the loneliness occasionally overwhelming, but if that weren’t the case I think I would exceed my happiness capacity. I am laying on a blanket in the sun in my front yard. Small giggling girls surround me drawing with colored pencils. My head teacher’s wife is laying beside me in the grass chewing straw. Simon & Garfunkel, The Shins, Cat Stevens, The Flaming Lips are playing over my speakers. To the south are large grey clouds promising rain on my tin roof tonight. Overhead, and to the north the sky is wide and blue with rowns of fluffy clouds. As almost always, a steady breeze lends relief from the powerful Malawi sun. Today school was a rare delight. Though it has taken months, today in both Forms 1 and 3 my students made thinking-hard faces. Fellow PCVs might argue that there were just trying to figure out what I was saying but that wasn’t it. They were answering questions. They were asking questions. Several leaned forward, eyebrows scrunched together. For the first time I did not have to force them to put away other work. In Form 3 a smart boy with an attitude moved from his seat in the corner to the middle of the room and started listening. It was like a miracle. I went to the weekly kwabwandire. I chatted in Chitumbuka. Three girls, Flora, Dora, and Varena followed me around. People have known my name for a long time but they were strangers who are now familiar faces. I went to the small shop where I buy eggs. The grandmother there always chats with me. The shop was busy because of the market. Though still extremely limited, I could see that my conversational skills are improving. The agogo could see too—she smiled her toothy approval. A man complimented my Tumbuka, thanked me for teaching, and bought me a small orange cream biscuit. I took my favorite way home through the banana grove. The children shouted my name as I went by – Rebecca! Labecca! Labek! Rahbie! The ladies smiled, I smiled, we clasped our hands together and nodded our heads, “Matandala,” we said. I keep meaning to write about the adventures I had over break. And I will. But for now I am just relaxing into this Luviri sun while Friday creeps through the grass, determined to scare a chicken.

A very lovely Malawian proverb... And let me tell you... we've finally gotten the rain we've all been praying for, and with it has come A LOT of mud. So trying really hard not to complain. But its everywhere. We had a late start to the rainy season... There was this weird 2.5 weeks in October, usually one of the hottest and driest months of the year, when we had really cool temperatures and a ton of rain. Then nothing... until the beginning of January. And now... 3 days this past week I was basically trapped in my very small house because of torrential downpours. I haven't seen the sun for more than 30 minutes in over a week (SAD in the tropics anyone?). I've been the cause of much amusement with neighbors and friends; I had several severe cases of cabin fever and started wandering around in the late afternoon when the rain became a drizzle. "Mutowe mvula" or "You should run from the rain" they all yelled at me... Either way. Its nice to not worry about crops failing because of too little or too late rain.

So... Merry late Christmas and a Happy New Years to everyone who reads this! I hope the holidays were family and fun filled. A bunch of us went north to the lake and then to the tropical island paradises of Likoma and Chizumulu Islands. We relaxed, ate delicious food, were visited by Santa (actually the amazing and thoughtful Miss Sara Lane... thanks again!), hung out at one of the coolest bars I've ever seen (a series of decks and patios placed among boulders right by the lake... the owner claims that decks disappear and appear as the water level changes over the years... crazy!)... New Years was also at the lake... dance party funness. While I was up in my second favorite region of Malawi (sorry... the South still rocks), I got to hang out at some other volunteers sites as well... Which is always a great way to see other parts of the country.

Our COS (Close of Service) conference was a blast as well... I have an official date: April 13th is my last "official" day as a PCV. From there, I'll be heading on a "COS trip" which will include Vic falls, Zanzibar, and hopefully a climb up Kilamanjaro. Then flying home!!!!

In village life.... I'm super glad to be back. I really missed my house... my friends... my neighbors... my work... my routine... everything. First couple days back got to hang out with my awesome site mates. We had a sushi themed dinner that was absolutely amazing. Discovered that when you haven't ridden your bike more than 10k in over 6 months, going longer distances and then climbing up half a mountain will take more out of you than expected. Also, attended my first funeral in Malawi of an older gentleman who lives next to my borehole. The man, Mr. Mbisa, was super friendly, and never failed to say hello when I passed every day. He was a Jehovah's witness, and somehow managed to procure English (as opposed to Chichewa) versions of the Watchtower magazine most months to give me. Since cell network at my site sucks, I usually sat at this tea shed in the same area as the borehole and his house to check messages and have family phone call day on Sundays. He always sent one of the neighborhood kids over with the magazine, and while I wasn't necessarily interested in reading them, the fact that he thought of me really touched me. He passed away this past Tuesday; he had been sick with malaria and when treatment at our health center wasn't working, they transferred him to the boma, but he didn't respond to the treatment there either. The funeral was a very moving experience. In some ways, it was very similar to ones I've attended in the US, but in other ways, very different. For instance, women sit inside with the deceased one throughout the morning while the men sit outside. Often close family members are crying or wailing, but people don't physically comfort them. Instead they simply sit close by and silently offer their support. When you come to pay your respects, it is customary to show your respect by contributing money to assist with the funeral expenses (they actually record who and how much was contributed and then read it later as a sign of gratitude). Around noon, the service starts.; people are still segregated by gender. Then things begin to be more similar to American funeral- people sing hymns, read eulogies, read bible passages, etc. Suffice to say, it was a very moving experience...

Finally, a huge thank you to all of you that have helped my library projected by contributing money, getting the word out or both!!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!! As of today, the project has "disappeared" from the Peace Corps website... that hopefully means its fully funded (I'm being cautiously optimistic) and we can get started on it. I'll know for sure on Monday (the Program assistant in charge of the grant is in the field today so won't know till then). Please keep your fingers crossed that this is the case (and not that something weird has happened)! If so, I have just enough time to complete this project before I leave... so Yippie!! Until next time... lots of love and hugs to everyone out there!!

To Malawi: For rain storms on tin roofs that leave one deaf. For sima patties that fill me like I’ve never been filled. For friends in the village and in Peace Corps that I love more than I thought I ever could. For establishing a heartfelt appreciation in me for beers that are cold. For [...]

So for about a week and a half now, I have been plagued by a rat. Not even multiple ones, just one rat waking me up every night and making me watch the same episodes of America's Next Top Model over and over again. I would wake up in the morning and find that the wax block poison I put out has been chewed and over the past week, this rat has eaten 3 blocks. 3 blocks is supposed to kill 3 rats. Not one, damnit.

So last week, at the beginning of this rat saga, I wake up to go to the bathroom. Normal occurance until I saw a rat crawl down the wall RIGHT next to my bed where my head would be. I freaked. I called for the girls to come and get it. Tamandani comes in, and I have lost my words. There is nothing I can say in any language. Chichewa, English, Spanish, all is lost to me. I am trying to hand her my flashlight and tell her it is under my bed. By this time, the rat has probably already ran out the now open door. Tamandani proceeds to check my entire room and then says, "Madam, kulibe mbewa" "Madam, there is no mouse" (I don't know the word for rat). So I have convinced myself I was hallucinating at this point and I calm down and go into my kitchen room. WHERE THE RAT IS CLIMBING ON THE BARS OF MY WINDOW!!! Bless and Tamandani tell me to go in my room and shut my door. They couldn't catch it, but they chased it out of the house. Which I suppose was enough.

The next night, I go to bed after everyone and their mother has reassured me that the mouse/rat has been effectively scared off. But at 11pm, the mouse/rat comes back. I saw him climbing the rafters in my bedroom...I don't know why they choose my room when they can go in Bless and Tamandani's who are not afraid of him. So I had locked my door. I call for Bless and Tamandani and Tamandani comes to my door. I am frozen in my bed and can't get out. Tamandani is trying to open the door and speaking chichewa and saying Madam. I have no idea what else she said, but I just know that I heard Madam. I finally get out of bed and open the door and the rat/mouse is again no where to be found. Again, the girls find it in the kitchen and chase it out.

I set out wax poison blocks and leave for the weekend to work on Camp SKY stuff. I come back and while I heard scritching and scratching most nights, I didn't actually see the mouse/rat. So I just tried to wear myself out so I wouldn't hear it and so I'd be too tired to wake up to go to the bathroom. It never worked, but I didn't see it!

Last night, I stayed up until 11 until I literally could not keep my eyes open anymore and I slept through the night! Yes!

Turns out, it's because the rat is very sluggish now, and also pretty stupid.

I found the rat. I found it! It was living IN my door. There is a hole at the bottom that I had assumed was where the previous mice/rats just walked through, but NOPE, the rat had crawled inside and was hanging out there. I saw its disgusting little feet and its gross tail sticking out from under the door. Tamandani didn't believe me when I called her to come and kill it for me. Bless also didn't believe me. But my daughters very awesomely took care of it. Thank God I adopted these girls (in Malawi, I am now considered a mother because I have girls living with me).

Two years and two months is a long time to know that one of the core differences you made was inspiring just one person. Maybe not just inspiring, but the one person you sustainably inspired. Empowering them with inspiration that will actually last, or inspiration you think will last. As much as everyone says that [...]

Two years and two months is a long time to know that one of the core differences you made was inspiring just one person. Maybe not just inspiring, but the one person you sustainably inspired. Empowering them with inspiration that will actually last, or inspiration you think will last. As much as everyone says that [...]

It all started with a little additional work stress, too much fun on holiday adventures, and then moving to a new home. All of that added up to a complete disregard for my blog. My apologies to those of you that have faithfully checked it over the past month. I humbly admit I am a bum.

So my very biggest news is that I moved. It wasn't really my first choice, but I've learned, when in Africa, you don't always have a choice. I've been homeless since November. Yep. That's right almost three months without residency. I don't really want to go into details of why, but Peace Corps and I decided that my home wasn't really that safe for me anymore. My wonderful friend Christie graciously offered me her home in the interim, and I began my house hunting.

I have since added house hunting to the ever growing list of things that are much easier in America; its right up there with daily meals at Taco Bell and maintaining sense of dignity. Anyway, there's no Craigs List or online apartment listings or bulletin boards or anything other than hearsay. After about two months of this I started feeling like that little leprechan who knew his lucky charms were somewhere but couldn't ever quite catch them.

I gave up.

I hate admitting it but I just couldn't do it anymore. By January Ginger and I had moved three times, which is not easy on a puppy or me for that matter. A wonderful house, that was promised to me fell through, and it was just the end of the line for my sanity. It didn't help that I had exhausted all of my temporary housing options and I was left with two choices: 1. Sleep in my tent in the yard of a cooperative Adventist or 2. Move 65km to big-city-Blantyre where there was a wealth of housing options and a fabulous job opportunity.

So here I am.... moved from the spiders and the dreaded outhouse, and my fancy counter top and my little garden, into a rooftop apartment with all the comforts and conveniences of America. I'm right back to massive, overwhelming culture shock, but I strongly suspect my hot shower will help to wash that away quite quickly.

To the Readers of the Daily Breeze, Melissa Pamer, and my family and friends,

Thank you, thank you, thank you for the support and interest you all have given to the borehole project in Msangano, Malawi. I am humbled beyond words at the tremendous response to the article Melissa Pamer wrote. The money you have donated will go directly towards constructing a deep, protected well at Msangano rural health clinic. Finally, safe, drinking water will be available for this vibrant, hard-working community. Your incredible support has demonstrated generosity, empathy, and concern. I am proud to be from the South Bay and it has been such a joy linking my hometown to the rural community that I have been living in for the past 15 months.

Wachi Nyondo introduced me to the people of Msangano in January of 2010. As Melissa mentioned in the article, Wachi has been “my everything” throughout this journey. Any project that I’ve been involved with has been identified by him. Because he is born and raised in the community, he knows which community groups are dedicated and serious. At the beginning of my service, Wachi kept telling me how Msangano community would be “verrrrry happy” if we managed to do a water project. Not knowing what I was getting myself into, I agreed to visit the mountain village. We walked for two hours under the hot sun, me trekking behind Wachi’s bouncing gait. When we finally arrived, we were welcomed by 700 people sitting in the shade of the mango trees. The villagers had prepared chicken, beef, and rice to say thank you... it was already assumed we would find the funds to build a borehole. The village headmen of the catchment area then greeted me and asked if I was ready to give my speech in Chilambya. Floored (and completely unprepared), I stood awkwardly, essentially introducing myself and saying I’d do the best I could to help, emphasizing that this borehole wasn’t guaranteed be a success. I was 21 and straight-out of college. What did I know about fundraising? Regardless of my warning, the people of Msangano cheered enthusiastically and I went home that night in a bit of a panic.

Months passed and I spent a lot of time with the people of Msangano, listening to their stories and observing their appalling water supplies in both the rainy and dry seasons. Children were suffering from diarrhea, the elderly were turned away from the health clinic (due to no available water), and women were exhausted from back-breaking hours of carrying water to their families. Water was a dire problem in Msangano, something had to be done.

While I often feel uneasy about my implications in the village (i.e. the Westerner coming in and “providing” solutions), this borehole project has helped transcend those worries. It honestly feels like I’ve done nothing, but in actuality, I’ve had the opportunity to exchange skills and see collective change led by Wachi and the Msangano water committee. I credit Wachi completely for his ability to assess and seek out dedicated community groups. Msangano ensured that they had gender equal leadership and have been 110% committed to bringing safe water into their community. They are the ones who fundraised 100,000 Malawi Kwacha (roughly $666) in one month, hauled river sand for incredulous distances, and molded bricks. I simply had the pleasure of getting to know them and figuring out how to collect the money. And what I realized is that it would be completely impossible on my own. Thank you to everyone back home who supported Msangano’s vision for clean water.

Wachi always tell me “little by little makes a bundle” whenever I tell him my frustrations with how slow development can be. He usually laughs at my “Americanness” and thinks I’m strange for making a schedule or focusing on a result. Being here has made me see, however, that good things can only come with patience, open ears, and empathy. A year ago, I would have never imagined how involved the South Bay would be with this project. Thank you Melissa Pamer, for your interest in writing the article and eager initiative to gather details. Thanks to my family and friends back home for being my rock and helping spread the word. And thank you to the readers of the Daily Breeze for the time you took to contribute to this project. Most of you don’t even know me or Msangano village for that matter, and yet you took the effort to help out. Because of your generosity, life for the people of Msangano can shift from one of survival to prosperity. More importantly, you’ve proved how interconnected we all are and how capable we really are to make positive change.

Thank you (Wasalipa sana),

Kara Bellucci

The beginning pages of Creating the one-shot library workshop:  a step-by-step guide were very useful in helping to develop my thinking of the steps neccesarry in designing workshops that make valuable use of participants’ time.   Libraries are often in a difficult role, since the people attending the workshops often have only their interest as motivation to [...]

When I first got to my village, Manyenje, I could make a fire, but it took me a while. I didn't know how to cook popcorn, my staple food here in Malawi. What a sad few weeks. One day as I attempted with my trusty Neuton at my side (one of my matwinsies), I popped about 100 pieces. I was picking them out of the pot because they kept burning. So I am spooning popcorn out of a pot, over a fire and finally, the remaining kernals are just burnt. Nothing I can do. Burnt. I am frustrated and annoyed and 100 sounds like a lot, but really...it's not. I stood up and kicked the popcorn I just meticulously popped off and it fell on the ground. I saved about 30 pieces. I almost burst into tears. Neuton went home. He apparently told his mother because she came over later with a giant bowl filled with popped popcorn (they just roast the kernals and eat them unpopped). Julia, the mother of my favorite Malawian children, has become one of my best friends in village.

Last week, I was walking to the market when I passed my friend Hanifa. She is the mother of 4 boys, the youngest being twins who are about 5 months old now. She has Hamsa on her back as she is washing clothes while a little girl is walking around with Hamdani on her back. I greet Hanifa and we chat for a few moments. I had originally been walking around, looking for AmayiEdah (the mother of Edah), my neighbor, who had told me previously about a quietly-kept Malawian women's tradition, nkhande. I'm not going to tell you what it is, but I asked Hanifa where I could buy nkhande (Mom, I am buying you some!). Hanifa slaps my hand and starts laughing at me. She asks me why? I start to tell her, "I'm Malawian now! I need them!" but she keeps laughing. Hanifa was so happy though that I have no "shy" with her (meaning shame). We are going together to buy nkhande on Tuesday. I will carry Hamdani on my back and she will have Hamsa and laughs will be had as the azungu buys nkhande for the first time!

I am currently working on getting small gifts before I visit home in March. I am visiting the curios market and will have some awesome things...nifty gifties :)

My form three students have been working hard on literature. I haven't assigned any grammar work yet, but LOTS of literature work. Master, one of the brightest students, was beaming when he handed me his homework and recieved a 41/39 (he got extra credit for expanding on most of the answers). It was a great moment to see one of my students REALLY get it!

Last night, we had a meeting about Camp SKY, which will be held in July or August. I am the Programming Director. We are planning and planning. Next time I update, I will include more information on it!

On February 1st, Eliza and I are beginning our reusable pads project! We are so stoked, and I will post pictures as soon as I have access to good internet!

Keep safe! Send your best thoughts and wishes to my momma, who is recovering from surgery right now. Mom, I love you and all my good vibes are flowing your way!

As for the rest of you, keep it up, work it out, everything is just okay. :)

peace, love, and happiness,

cait

The counsellors at Peace Corps' Camp Women 2 Women - a girls' empowerment camp. The camp was a week long in December. It was held at a school in Mzimba - a district in the northern region of Malawi.

My group of Women 2 Women campers - the "Cool Cats."

all the Women to Women campers

I spent Christmas in Lilongwe with 12 other Peace Corps Volunteers. This was our Christmas tree with "Dirty Santa" gifts.

Christmas wreath made by my niece on our door.

Sean and Carolyn. Sean did most of the cooking and we all helped with chopping and cleaning.

Christmas breakfast - oatmeal cinnamin pancakes and fruit salad!

chopping avocados for guacamole

more PCV friends preparing for Christmas dinner

RECIPE: ARTISPROUTS

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So for a while now, I've been buying most groceries from the farmer's market that happens every Saturday morning on the castle terrace. Now unlike at a grocery store, at the farmers market, the food doesn't tend to be labeled. Which is fine. Typically one knows the difference between a tomato and a pepper, and when it comes down to - for example - the difference between kale and spinach, no one is going to look at you funny if you ask. So it was that one day at the farmers market I bought a branch of what I assumed were baby artichokes. For the whole week I looked up artichoke recipes online and cooked artichoke dip, and artichoke pie, and artichoke pasta and at the end of the whole experience concluded I just didn't like artichokes very much. Which might be true. Except that about a week ago I was wandering through the grocery store (in which food is labeled) and realized that what I had been eating was in fact brussel sprouts. Now, I could use this as a jumping off point for my blog, which would then talk about how in life things aren't always what you expect them to be (which is very true) but I'm actually just going to leave it as a funny anecdote about vegetable mix-ups, and the blog is going to be about Scottish dancing. Which I think is much more fun.

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Me and Alan in Scotland, where it's just a tad bit colder than Malawi

A while ago my friend Jesi from Malawi came to visit. Just after she arrived she turned to me and asked, naturally enough "So, what is there to do around here?" To which I replied. "Well, there's going to class, and then there's going to the library." Because while I do tend to hang out with friends, or go to cultural events, while class is in session I don't really do too much touristy stuff.

Which is why, when classes ended and Alan (also of Malawi) came to visit me over the holidays, I was determined that we would not only climb every castle, tour every art museum, and stroll leisurely through all the parks Edinburgh has to offer (just google map it and look for the green if you really want to see how ridiculous that is) but also meet all my friends, shop at all my stores, visit all my favorite pubs, and in general, soak up every tiny little piece of culture Scotland has to offer.

This was, perhaps, rather unrealistic of me. However, despite the fact that he never visited Edinburgh’s second-hand bookshops, ate a deep-fried Mars bar or tried haggis, Alan maintains that he did in fact have an excellent time and experience a good amount of Scottish culture.

Starting with the Gaelic service at my church. I’d been wanting to go to the Gaelic service for a while, probably due in large part to my strange fascination with totally obscure languages (e.g. my history of taking Sanskrit in college, or my determined efforts to master Chitumbuka for the past three years). I also thought seeing how a Gaelic service was structured would be a really cool, very uniquely Scottish experience.

While I was right, what I had overlooked was that attending a service in a different language meant that I would not understand any of it. So it was that as I stared at the program I suddenly realized I didn’t know the hymns from the scripture readings from the sermons.

As it turned out the hymns were pretty easy to get the hang of. The music would start playing and everyone would stand up. My ability to follow along ended just about there though, because while the tunes were familiar ones (such as “Hark the Herald Angels sing”) they were printed in Gaelic. Which would have been okay, were Gaelic not the most un-phonetic language you can imagine. For example “ceilidh” is pronounced “kay-lee”, “Samhuinn” is “saw-ain” and - my favorite - “claidheamh mòr” is “claymore.” Of course. So looking down at the words while everyone cheerfully sings around you, one realizes one doesn’t have a prayer.

But it was still fun. The Gaelic language is beautiful. This impressed me most when I was listening to the soloist, who sang two really slow, almost sad songs. Strangely enough, they reminded me of the large fields in the highlands, long and lonely and slightly cold, but still gorgeous. Gaelic music can embody the words “hauntingly beautiful” better than anything I’ve ever encountered.

Conversely, it can also be incredibly cheerful, as it was later that night when we attended a Ceilidh (yet another Scottish cultural event!). I think I’ve mentioned them before, but Ceilidhs are

traditional Scottish dances. There are many different sets of dances that can be performed in a Ceilidh, and typically they are performed by pairs or small groups who stand around in a large circle. Ceilidhs are possibly my favorite thing about Scotland, and that is saying a lot.

My flat-mate Wendy twirling at the Ceilidh. Note the kilt. Ceilidh! I was pretty excited at the opportunity to drag Alan to one. Alan was, perhaps, less excited, as he is 6 foot 4 and has difficulties with events where children from the ages of 5 to 10 can reasonably be expected to be his partners. At the beginning of one of the latter pieces the caller announced, “now duck under the two people in front of you” and I heard from about three couples away “Duck? But I don’t duck!” a bit too late because the music had already begun and we were already whirling away in opposite directions.

I have long had this complaint against American parties: there is no communal dancing. Communal dancing is AWESOME. It gives you something to do besides eat and drink, and despite what you might think it actually does allow you to socialize with others. Above all, though, it is an expression of exuberance. And if you were not exuberant before you hit the dance floor, you sure as heck are after being whirled from partner to partner for a few rounds. I defy anyone to do-si-do, stomp, hop and spin without cracking a smile. Social dancing is wonderful, and as soon as I’m back in the states I aim to single-handedly reintroduce it at general social events everywhere.

Being able to kick my holidays off with a dance, was, I have to say, probably the best way I’ve ever found to mark the end of harrowingly stressful finals, and a pretty incredible beginning to a vacation. Despite the minor ducking incident (and the fact that he did not possess a kilt to wear) Alan mostly agreed.

January 10, 2012

Zen just brought a bird inside, teased it mercilessly for 30 minutes until its little heart gave out, scattered feathers everywhere, then ate it whole. Yes, beak, bones, and all. I think of my family’s lazy American cats slowly gutting their prey before growing bored and abandoning the furred or feathered corpses to the kitchen floor.

It’s the same concept with the humans I’ve encountered in both America and Malawi. I politely reject the chicken lungs and cartilage on my plate, then my leftovers are handed to the children, who crunch into the bones, suck the marrow, and slowly but surely consume entire skeletal pieces. Same with fish and beef parts and most anything else you can imagine. My American cats have Friskies; I have banana pancakes and peanut butter. Malawians, animal and human alike, are not so fortunate.

It’s Hunger Season here in Malawi, the period of time when the new shoots of maize are just peeking out of the clay, but the last harvest has begun to run low. The rains have arrived, albeit nearly two months late, and here in the north that means the cassava cannot be dried in the sun, pounded into flour, and cooked into nsima kondaoli. The tomatoes are small, abused, overpriced. Nothing is in season though the world around us glows chlorophyll green, thriving in the rain. People now subside on pumpkin leaves, carefully rationing their ufa (maize flour), frying the last of their cassava, and biding their time until the rains make fruit.

In general, today in Malawi, inflation continues to take its toll. Riots broke out in the capitol last week but were quickly subdued; Malawi is an inherently peaceful nation but the patience of the people is being tested. The other day a friend and I were in a hitch that stopped to purchase black market fuel. We did the math, and the price was the equivalent of $24 (USD!) per gallon. A representative from a nearby co-op had to wait 4 days and 3 this week in a line at a petrol station in the capitol to purchase fuel…even on the regular market, it’s nearly $10 per gallon. This fuel shortage is trickling down through society, affected every facet of daily life. The mobile network cannot function during power outages because of lack of diesel for the generators; transportation is a struggle, prices have skyrocketed, and many public vehicles have ceased operation; even the cost of eggs has gone from MK30 each to MK50 in just 3 months. People are worried. Tensions are high. With political ties failing and international aide being revoked, everyone is watching, waiting for what comes next.

But the best thing about Malawi is and always will be its people. Its reputation as the Warm Heart of Africa doesn’t come from its jungle fever temperatures but rather from its smiling, laughing, happy, welcoming people. This is one of the world’s top ten most impoverished countries. Under 2% of the population enjoys the luxuries of electricity and running water. People reside in mud huts; ten children might share a single grass-roofed room; women walk kilometers on rough paths and haul back all their water with their babies on their backs. Families break the earth of their fields by hand, harvest their crops by hand, and build burn callouses on their fingers as they cook over wood fires fueled by trees they chopped by hand. There are monthly bouts of Malaria to battle and families bear witness to the sad toll of HIV/AIDS…there is death all around.

And yet, I have never seen happier people. Malawians are friendly, hospitable, and grateful, against all odds. I don’t understand it, to be honest, but I embrace it and try to mimic it. I watch my neighbors praise God for his blessings, I accept the precious food that is served to me, I laugh with the children as they play with balls made of plastic bags and string. I worry about my friends and the path this nation is travelling down, the path we are being led down. But I know no matter what happens, Malawi will endure. Its spirit, its people, will not be broken.

Its birds, rats, roaches, spiders, centipedes, lizards, scorpions, flying ants, and locusts, however, are at the mercy of my tiny hungry pet cat, a growling-bellied, clawed killing machine always on the prowl for her next crunchy meal.