Peace Corps Journals

Lazy Photo Eye

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

2012-02-09 10:00:00

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.

THANK YOU!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi ...Maryland to Malawi...

2012-02-09 08:27:00

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…

How to Make Wine ala Peace Corps

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi ...Maryland to Malawi...

2012-02-09 08:33:00

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 sugar

9 tablespoons of yeast (Brewer’s yeast is best, but baking yeast works too)

½ cup strong tea

1 liter Sobo (any flavor)

Water

Materials:

Two 20-liter plastic buckets with lids

One bandana or similar piece of cloth

Bottling Materials (Optional):

18-20 old booze bottles

18-20 small squares cut from plastic bags

18-20 rubber bands

Funnel

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 bucket

2) Add the flavorings that you have decided on

3) 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 days

7) Strain contents through CLEAN cloth into second CLEAN bucket to removesolids

8) Leave for another 7-10 days and it’s ready for drinking

Bottling Option

1) Take the finished product and funnel into clean old booze bottles

2) DO NOT CAP! Fermentation is still taking place and the bottles will explode

3) 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!

Happy 50th Anniversary, Peace Corps

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi ...Maryland to Malawi...

2012-02-09 08:34:00

Peace Corps’ 50^th Anniversary was in 2011 – I am excited to be apart of Peace Corps’ 50^th 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!

New Years (Hogmanny)

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Life in Scotland

2012-02-08 21:26:00

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 torches

To 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 city

Witnessing 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.

Graphic Images Below

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi traversing through

2012-02-07 07:51:00

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

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.

Fully funded!!! Wahoo!!!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Its dangerous business walking out your front door

2012-02-01 09:17:00

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!

Chaka Chino

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi The Adventures of Nambewe!

2012-01-31 07:23:00

“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.

Malawi Music Project 2011

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Rich When Poor...

2012-01-30 15:05:00

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#

vacationing!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Life in Scotland

2012-01-28 15:27:00

Recipe: Spinach Parmesian Risotto
______________________________________________________________________________________________
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.
______________________________________________________________________________________________

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 Market

5) 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 Castle

6) 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.

Third Week of January

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Pochoko, pochoko

2012-01-28 10:40:00

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.

Those who pray for rain shouldn't curse the mud...

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Its dangerous business walking out your front door

2012-01-27 12:32:00

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!!

Just One.

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Murphy in Malawi

2012-01-27 11:46:45

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 [...]

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi traversing through

2012-01-24 11:00:00

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.

Wasalipa Sana!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Living in Malawi

2012-01-24 10:25:00

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

ADDIE and workshop design

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Traveling T's Weblog

2012-01-23 04:58:30

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 [...]

Moments in Malawi

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Caitlin in Africa

2012-01-22 10:37:00

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

December

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Erica in Malawi

2012-01-22 09:59:00

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

Touristing

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Life in Scotland

2012-01-20 13:17:00

RECIPE: ARTISPROUTS
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
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.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________

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

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Sorry, Kuno Ku Malawi

2012-01-14 13:57:00

Happy New Year!!!! For the holidays this year, I traveled to Nkhata Bay and Likoma Island with two fellow PCV friends. Here is a rundown of my fab travels and holiday!!!

Dec. 22, 2011

PC Headquarters and PEPFAR (Presidents Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief) representatives visit me at FHI360. They want to observe and learn about PCVs working with NGOs. I share my stories, frustrations, and successes. They seem pleased. They tell me to look into working with PC Office of Global Health & HIV. Pretty cool....

Head out to Nkhotakota with my good friend Chloe and her family. We stay at Fish Eagle Bay. We spend the evening swimming and avoiding the lake flies.

Lake flies gave Lake Malawi the nickname "Lake of Fire." The flies collect over the water, looking more like tornadoes or smoke stacks over the water. Imagine thousands of flies hatching and collecting in one big group to mate. Birds, fish, and other creatures gather to eat them including Malawians. They will collect the bugs into large patties, fry the patty, and eat it. I tried it, it's disgusting, tastes like fish vomit. The enormous plumes of the flies float over the lake with the wind, but sometimes they end up on the shore wreaking havoc on anyone and anything in its way. The insects are tiny enough to enter bed nets, and they are just damn annoying.

Dec. 23, 2011

Spend the morning swimming and kayaking on the lake. For lunch, we walk over to Nkhotakota Pottery for a delicious lunch and some pottery shopping. I ate a salad, mushroom soup and cheesecake...things I never get to eat!!! At night, we watch the lightening dance across the lake. It was almost like a laser show.

Dec. 24, 2011

Eat delicious breakfast of fruit salad before heading out to travel. Travel begins at 8am. I arrive at my destination at 5:30pm...long day of mini buses, dust, and sun. Arrive in Nkhata Bay to stay at Mayoka Village Lodge. Go out dancing with fellow PC friends until 2am...felt like I was in America.

Dec. 25, 2011

Wake up late in morning. Immediately jump in water to swim and cool off! Eat good food all day. Relax and drink with fellow PCVs. For dinner, we head to H&M for butter fish (best tasting bbq fish ever) and kandole, cassava nsima. Kandole resembles raw dough and sits in your stomach for a couple of days, not allowing you to poop. But it is the tastiest meal you can have in Malawi!

Dec. 26, 2011

This is the day we catch the Ilala ferry, but not til the evening. So my friends and I shop for supplies and relax and swim before boarding at 8pm. The ferry takes 10 hours to get to our destination a mere 65km away (about 40 miles). Things just move slowly in Malawi. We first get on 2nd class only to discover its jam packed with people like a minibus. We decide to move to 1st class, the more expensive and roomier option. We sleep on the deck until our early am arrival.

On a boat! First class deck of the Ilala.

Sunrise over Chizimulu Island.

Fishermen around Likoma Island.

Dec. 27, 2011

Upon our arrival to Likoma Island, the rain begins. The Ilala doesn't have a dock on the island, so boats have to escort you to the shore. Needless to say, we were completely soaked! Mango Drift, the backpackers lodge on the island, picks us up in safari vehicle so we avoid the 45 minute hike in the rain.

Great backpackers lodge on the island.

The money shot!

The island is absolutely beautiful, exotic, and isolated. We spend most of our first day resting, swimming, and setting up tent. I snorkeled! The beach is very rocky, which at first was annoying. But when snorkeling you can see that the cichlid fish love to swim near the rocks, so its a very beautiful snorkeling area. Every night, the lodge has a big group dinner. The lodge is hosting 17 JICA volunteers, Japanese version of PC, so they are our party friends for the week!

View from my lounge area. I spent most of the week in this spot!

On Likoma, islanders speak Chichewa, the most common language spoken in Malawi.

Dec. 28, 2011

Most of our days on the island are spent the same way...swimming, snorkeling, sleeping in hammocks, drinking, eating, and repeat. It's a hard life!!!! Don't worry mom, we were slathering the 50spf sunscreen all over ourselves repeatedly!!!! The island was super hot and humid, but the water was a super cool temp.

Sunset over the island.

Likoma is known as the Island of the Baobobs.

Dec. 29, 2011

Swimming, snorkeling, sleeping in hammocks, drinking, eating, and repeat.

View from my hammock.

The stillness of the lake can change drastically and without notice.

Dec. 30, 2011

We trek to a village with the famed Dr. Kumpolatta, a traditional healer. People throughout East Africa come to visit him so he can remove curses and other witchcraft from people who are visibly ill. For a medical anthropologist, this was a super cool excursion and experience. He told us his life story. Basically, he's a schizophrenic who utilizes the respect he has earned from people and the Anglican teachings to rid people of witchcraft. He danced and sang for us and wanted us to take lots of photographs. Legitimately though, I understand why people go to him. There was one woman with obvious rheumatoid arthritis who thought someone had possessed her hand. Medically, there is nothing that can be done for her in Malawi health clinics. RA drugs are nonexistent here. Another boy looked liked he had some sort of palsy, but again, Malawian hospitals can do little for him. So their only hope is to rid evil spirits through means of traditional medicine. The Dr. has lots of Anglican influence and even uses the ANAMED, medicinal plants and such that actually do help alleviate suffering and pain.

Dr. Kumpolatta and his band sing the praises of God to empower his patients.

Dr. Kumpolatta's spiritual clinic.

Dr. Kumpolatta is quite a character.

Anyway, the walk back is super hot but beautiful. Upon our return, all three of us laze in hammocks for several hours. That night, the lodge is supposed to have a NYE party, but the lake flies ruin it...

View from our hike around the island.

Dec. 31, 2011

Last day of lazing on the shores of Likoma Island. We pack and spend the afternoon swimming. The Ilala arrives arrives at 5pm but leaves around 9pm. We board the boat and pitch our tents on the dock. We celebrate on the deck with the friends we've made throughout the week on the island. We attempt to make the boat a party boat, but Malawians don't really celebrate the new year, they just wanted to sleep on the deck. At 2am, the rain pours!!!! I'm caught outside the tent so I get drenched in rain!!!! After 8 hours on the boat, we finally arrive back to Nkhata Bay.

Celebrating the New Years on a boat!

Jan. 1, 2012

Arrive at 5am to Nkhata Bay and get picked up by Mayoka Lodge transport...so nice. We are at the lodge too early, so we sleep for several hours on their cushions and couches. The rest of day is spent lazing about, swimming and eating the last good food before our journeys home.

Jan. 2, 2012

Denial sets in that the vacation is over....Transport home via minibus. Leave at 7:30am to arrive home at 4pm. Eat at Cafe Lahore, the only restaurant in Salima cause I have no food at home. Oh, and waking up this morning, I discover I've scratched my cornea and spent the whole ride home crying. Sleep for 24 hours due to eye and exhaustion.

Likoma Island is now my favorite beach of Lake Malawi.

Back in Africa

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Here's to not taking Gniess for Granite!

2012-01-14 13:20:00

Well, I have returned to warm and steamy Malawi! I am very happy to be back with the humidity and greenery. Delhi was freezing! I haven’t been that cold since I left Oregon. It was too cold to shower, though I did force myself to bathe occasionally. The houses are built to be as cold as possible so that the inhabitants can withstand the hellish summers but for the two-month winters, well, it is butt-ass cold.

The best-thing in India I experienced:

Jagnoor’s Mom’s food. No doubt. I gained about 7kgs while in India and it was totally her fault. Every hour of everyday, there was delicious food available. I just couldn’t control myself. I love her food.

The worst-thing I experienced:

Well, this is a tie. Two bad things happened; One, I went to a salon to get my mane trimmed. I walked out with a butchered head of pseudo-layers and it looks terrible. There’s no damage control possible either. I’ll just have to wait another year until my hair grows out. What hurt the most was the look on Jagnoor’s face; he tried to control it for fear of making me crying (which I did anyways) but the damage was done. I will forever just cut my own hair.

Secondly, I fell about 8ft off a banister in a super-crowded nightclub and tore all the ligaments in the back of my shoulder. So, I spent my first night out in Delhi in a taxi going to the ER. I’m lucky I didn’t hurt myself more seriously but I spent all of the rest of my vacation in an arm sling and a lot of pain. My shoulder still is bothering me a little. I can’t do push-ups yet. Those of you who know me well are probably shaking your head right now going “Typical Paulie.” The arm sling is rather, eh?

In both incidents my pride was severely hurt. Falling off a banister in a nightclub in front of thousands of people and walking around with an atrocious hairdo seem equally awful to me. Neither is permanent, I know, it might take me awhile to regain that lost pride though.

Observations- Delhi:

Traffic is in Delhi is an incredible mess. There’s no way around it; it’s in every direction. It takes hours to get anywhere. When we landed, J bought a 500cc Royal Enfield Classic and we rolled through the polluted streets on a wonderfully powerful motorcycle. But even with the ability to ride on the sidewalks and weave through traffic, we still got stuck all too often. And I didn’t know it beforehand, but Christmas is becoming an extremely popular commercial holiday in India. So we were caught up in all the shopping traffic all too frequently.

The pollution from Delhi murdered my skin. In combination with the cold, dry air- my skin was not a happy organ. I am sure it would be even less happy in the summer. There were dense fog clouds that settled over the city that were caused by the fog and they smelled awful; a combination of CO2, piss and feces from the river and extraordinarily stale air. All in all, Delhi is the smelliest city I have ever been in, and the most crowded.

And you guys think Californian drivers are bad? Ha ha! They don’t hold a candle to the world’s most aggressive and crazy drivers ever in Delhi! There’s no such thing as lanes, no such thing as a speed limit, and if you’re stopped for any reason (red light, child in the road, anything!) the person behind you will not let off that horn. Constantly blowing the horn is an accepted norm; how else are you going to know that you’re a centimeter away from scraping the car next to you? Mirrors are not utilized, obviously. The streets are quite noisy. And if you’re on a bicycle, or actually on anything, you’re on your own. It’s every man for himself out there.

And speaking of noisy: I have read from author foreign authors about how people, particularly Hindus in India perform their morning ablutions upon waking and that it is a noisy affair. Yeah, they weren’t kidding. Try to imagine that at 5:30a you wake up to the sounds of hacking, gagging, coughing, snot-shooting and of course, spitting from the 30 or so neighbors you have. It’s a lovely sound.

However, one of the great things I noted about Delhi, and was most pleased to see, are the government initiatives that have started encouraging people to be more environmentally friendly. On every corner are ‘auto-rickshaws’ which are three-wheeled, natural gas-powered taxis that produce water as a waste product. There is also large public transport buses that roam the city powered by gas as well. There are signs on all bus stops asking people to plant trees, responsibly dispose of their garbage and use the many bathroom facilities being built instead of the river.

Just like Malawi, it’s acceptable to pee anywhere, man or woman. I laughed the first time I saw a tree quite literally in the middle of a major highway. The government didn’t cut it down; they put concrete right up the edges of the tree and built the highway around it. Common sight. Can’t prevent the trees from being coated in pollution though.

And another thing I loved about Delhi, and this is true all over India, is the way people treat animals. In Malawi, you see stray dogs roaming all over and they are sickly, mangy creatures you dare not come close to. In Delhi, there are cute and fluffy well-fed strays everywhere and because it was winter, the citizens of the city had caught the dogs and put warmer jackets on them. The dogs protect the neighborhoods they live in and have a very good relationship with the people that live there. Isn’t that so sweet? It truly makes me smile.

There are wild cows (BIG cows!) roaming all of the streets and not a single person will raise a hand to remove them if they are impeding traffic. Cows get to do whatever they wish. The first thing I saw when traveling from the airport was a donkey in the middle of an extremely busy highway. I asked Jagnoor who was going to remove the donkey from the middle of the road and he just laughed. The donkey is free to remove itself. One thing I didn’t see a lot of was cats. I assume this is because of all the wild dogs but J assured me that Indians love cats too, I just didn’t see them.

Oh yes, and also on every corner was a temple or Gurdwara and its associated food and tea vendors. There are SO many restaurants in Delhi! We tried to eat at all of them, but failed, lol. Street food was good though, very good. Essentially it’s just deep-fried and battered anything. For this poor PCV, Domino’s pizza was Godsend. And no once did I get sick! I probably have Malawi to thank for that. I’ve built up some tolerance in the past two years.

Observations-Goa:

Ah, and on the note of eating, J and I had a goal for Goa: To eat prawns six-times-a-day. I am pleased to inform you that we certainly accomplished that goal. We ate our hearts out there. Our waistlines will attest to it. I am not a fan of Southern Indian food but I sure do like tiger prawns grilled with garlic and butter, who doesn’t?

Goa was a relief after Delhi. It was warm, humid and sunny. It meant a lot to me that I was finally seeing the Arabian Sea/Indian Ocean. I haven’t seen the sea in so long and it instantly made me happier. The waters were warm enough to swim in, but with my arm in a sling that wasn’t really an option for me. The rip curl and undertow was very strong. I did get caught once and it scared me pretty badly because I couldn’t swim or right myself in the water. I stayed shallow after that. And the water tasted so icky and burned our eyes; it was very salty and polluted. There were hundreds of tourist motor-boats out all day and the shore became a giant urinal at night.

Jagnoor and I went to Goa for a music festival called Sunburn, which I told you about before. It was totally worth it. It was one of the best experiences of my life. The music was phenomenal and we spent three days dancing until our legs hurt. There must have been 100,000 people at the very least. From all over the world too. I liked that we discovered new artist’s music and heard some of our favorites too; it was a good mix. I would love to go again this year.

We spent the New Year holiday in Goa as well, but that didn’t work out so well. We realized belatedly that we were at a private gay party after the guys I was with kept getting hit on and J asked what was going on. It was too late to change venues so we danced on the empty down-stairs dance floor and made the best of the terrible music. At least it was memorable and we’re alive to tell the tale.

Being in Goa made up for spending my Christmas in an airplane.

Overall conclusions:

Indian woman are the most beautiful in the entire world.
Indian food is awesome.
Indian culture is many-layered and old. It will take years to truly delve into the pool of understanding it.

With the exception of the time my Grandma took me and my cousin to Disneyland, I have never been on a more fun trip. This was the best vacation of my adult life.

I loved meeting Jagnoor’s family. They welcomed me with open arms and treated me as they would a daughter. I am very grateful.

I loved experiencing a small part of what is India and I am definitely going back to get more.

And I loved getting out of Malawi for awhile. Not to think about the fuel shortages and the economy collapsing around our ears, even temporarily, was a welcome change.

I’m off to the village now. I am going to be extraordinarily busy closing out my grants, getting my paper work sorted for Peace Corps and planting 150,000 trees. Oh yes, and mucking through the mud that are my roads now.

Happy Holidays and Happy New Year guys! Let’s rock 2012!

My Soft Bicycle

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Living in Malawi

2012-01-14 12:40:00

Every Peace Corps volunteer is issued a bicycle from the office before they move into their villages. These bicycles are mountain bikes from South Africa, complete with 6 gears and a tool kit. We were told over and over, “Do NOT lend out your bicycle in the village.” The reason being that the spare parts are also from South Africa (i.e. expensive) and only available at the capitol office. The local bicycles, in comparison, are dilapidated, one-geared contraptions. While I feel ostentatious riding a shiny mountain bike around the village, the gears are highly needed with all the hills in Chitipa.

Upon my arrival to Ifumbo, I kept getting an earful about Ethan, the volunteer before me. They raved about him being a “big, strong man” with “large muscles”. And just by being a big, strong man with large muscles, he was highly esteemed. Especially for his superhuman bicycling abilities. I was told he’d ride up the Ifumbo Mountains, no problem. A feat that I’m certain no one is capable of, even big strong men with large muscles. He also would ride to Chinunkha Secondary School twice a week and never have to walk his bicycle up the hills. When I’d intervene and explain that I can do the same, people would respond, “No Kala, it’s not the same. Your bike is soft.” (i.e. your bike has gears, i.e. you’re not as strong as Ethan). An acute irritation bubbled inside of me and I decided right then and there to make it my mission to bike all the Chinunkha hills, no problem. I biked through dust, I biked through mud, determined to make it up each and every hill. I started becoming obsessive; whenever my legs would shake and give out, I regarded it as a mini failure. This was all in the name of equality! I was my own activist, fighting for my own cause. And after a few months of consistent uphill bike riding, I was riding all the hills just like Ethan did, and feeling consequently smug and eager for people to watch me ride.

Months passed at site and I came to know people better, recognizing who was related to whom and remembering names. The requests for using my bicycle were becoming frequent, and not thinking much of it, I usually lent it out. Everyone shares here; I figured I should, too. Because people ride dilapidated, one-geared bicycles though, my shiny, 6-geared mountain bike was a treat. My bike would often be returned to me set on the most extreme gears, the brakes usually worn out (I need to give a lesson in brake pumping now). On one of my particular uphill rides, the chain kept skipping and I realized the gears were completely destroyed. I kept cursing at myself for being so inept at fixing things… I’m the daughter of a mechanic; I should have spent at least a little time working with my hands. Alas, I angrily pushed the bike uphill and Mr. Simfukwe, a teacher at Chinunkha CDSS, stopped to talk with me. We chatted about the weather, the students, and simple pleasantries. I was relieved; it took my mind off the bike, until Simfukwe broached the topic of Ethan. “You know, Kala,” he began, “Ethan used to ride all these hills, no problem. He was a big strong man.” Exasperated, I quickly interjected, “Simfukwe, I ride all these hills, too! I’m just the same! My bike is just having problems right now!” Simfukwe chuckled and replied the dreaded response, “Oh Kala, it’s different, your bike is soft.”

Le sigh.

Mzungu and Machina Rage

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Living in Malawi

2012-01-14 11:27:00

If you do not appear African in Malawi, people will normally yell at you, calling you either mzungu (white person) or machina (Chinese person), sometimes alternating between the two just to get your attention. “Ma” is added before adopted English words. Examples include masweetie, macomputer, madraft, mawindow, matrousers, machair. When I ask my kids what they learned in school, they usually respond “masums”. Even Yotham’s neighborhood kids call him Maguy. Anyways, mzungu/machina rage is present in my everyday life, manifesting differently depending on the situation.

Situation 1
I’m travelling, carrying my overstuffed backpack in Chichewa, Chitimbuka, or Chitonga territory. Because my language in Ifumbo is a minority language, I’m usually out of my comfort zone and unable to communicate past the standard greetings. Children, teenagers, or men leer at me, yelling “MZUNGU! MZUNGU! MZUNGU”, bolder in numbers. I exhale deeply and trudge on. If the harassment continues, I can at least say “Iwe, basi!” (i.e. enough!). This however, amuses the perpetrator more and fuels louder “MZUNGU”s or “MACHINA”s. It’s kind of like an “It speaks!” reaction. If I’m not in a patient mood, I’ll throw rocks at the name caller. Usually though, I exhale heavily and buy a soda to placate my moods.

Situation 2
I’m in Chitipa, outside of Ifumbo where people don’t know my name. Someone comes up to me (almost always a man) and says “Mzungu, bo?” or “Machina, bo?” (Bo is the equivalent to Hey, a shortened version of Bonjour so I’m told). Feeling self-righteous, I look the name caller directly in the eyes to make him uncomfortable and say “Mutakakoleaghe ukuti mzungu! Ute we mufitu!” (Don’t call me mzungu! Your name is not black person!). The name caller then erupts into laughter and calls over all his friends and tells me to repeat what I just said. By this time, I’ve just drawn more unwanted attention to myself and walk away.

Situation 3
Chinunkha Primary School. A place I avoid like the plague. The problem is I have to cross the school yard whenever I’m biking to the boma or trading center. Imagine a sea of 300 children, dangling outside the windows, stopping in their tracks just to yell at me. “CHINNNAAAA! MACHINAAA!! MZUGU! WAYA KWI MZUNGU??!!!” (Where are you going, mzungu?!!). It’s awful, I’m usually covered in mud, dehydrated, and feeling pathetic. To make matters worse, they run after me as I cross the river by their school, watching in awe as I carry the bike on my shoulder (praying I don’t fall face first into the water). I’m way too outnumbered in this scenario; I just keep my head down and move as fast as I can. Otherwise, I’ll erupt and throw a tantrum… a mzungu spectacle for the children to talk about for days!

Situation 4
Ahh Ifumbo. My home. All I hear is “Mwaghona, Kala!” because in Ifumbo I’m a human-being with a name, not a light-skinned freak show. An occasional machina or mzungu may come about, from a child or perhaps a visitor. Luckily, I don’t have to say a thing; the community polices and protects me. And actually, they get pretty indignant about it, too. It’s a nice feeling. As I’ve been told over and over, it really isn’t a big deal to call out someone for being different in Malawi. But growing up in a nation where staring or mocking someone is a BIG no-no, it’s a difficult thing for me to adjust to. And I know I never will be ok with being called mzungu or machina, and that’s just ok. I don’t plan to spend the rest of my life in Malawi. Still more, the people of Ifumbo know it bothers me and they look out for me. So in the end, I’m a pretty lucky mzungu to have such a great community.

Castles make life fun!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Life in Scotland

2012-01-12 21:22:00

Recipe: Christmas Gingerbread Castle
___________________________________________________________________________________________________

The final product, viewed from the side.

So for Christmas this year, I really wanted to make a gingerbread castle. So I invited a bunch of friends over, and we made one. For this, I am indebted to Melissa, who came over and actually made the castle while I decorated the kitchen and tried to make it look Christmassy and not so much like a bomb shelter. I think it turned out pretty well. In order to make the castle we (and by we I mean Melissa) cut out a cardboard mold of a rather broad horizontal rectangle (about the size of half a piece of paper) and another cardboard mould of a turret, which was basically a long skinny vertical rectangle with three squares at the top. We (again, Melissa) made 16 of the turrets and stuck them together in groups of four to form a cube. We (still Melissa) placed the turrets in a position where they marked off four corners of a square, and then placed one of the horizontal rectangles as a wall between each of them. It was delicious. Although offering less decorating opportunities than your traditional house, its fun to devour the gummy-baby army you had occupying the courtyard, and also awesome to make a moat. Plus: castle.

Melissa's dragon, Napoleon, is pleased with his new domain.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

Being in graduate school has taught me many things. I have learned about the various incarnations of development, about gold-mining in Africa, about how the world will end in 2050 when the population explodes/climate change takes over/we run out of food/we run out of fresh water. One of the most important things I’ve learned, however, is how crucial it is to live next door to a castle.


The castle. Side note: This is what Edinburgh looks like at 2pm in November.

    Living next door to a castle is important for many reasons. There’s the good views of the city it provides, the expansive royal gardens that inevitably get made into public gardens, and the satisfaction of - when someone asks the question “where do you live” - being able to answer “well, you know the castle?”
    Apart from all that though there are the events. All year long, all the castles around Scotland hold various events. This is why having a Historic Scotland membership is handy. Not only does it get you into all Historic Scotland properties for free, for a year, for 35 pounds (I redeemed the value in two weeks) it also gets you in free for all events. Handy when you live next door to a castle. So far, I have attended two events at Edinburgh castle. The first was a fireworks display for St. Andrew’s day, the second a caroling session.
    St. Andrew’s day occurs on 30th November, the feast day for St. Andrew, who is the patron saint of Scotland. As a result, fireworks are set off. From the castle esplanade.
    Although I was in the middle of writing final essays at this point, I decided it was worth it to pop next door and watch pretty explosions in the sky. I didn’t realize in order to see the fireworks I would have to sit through a presentation on all the historic figures Scotland has produced. Tiny location like Scotland, you’d think the list wouldn’t be that extensive. Unless you’ve ever actually read a history book. For such a small landmass, Scotland has produced a ridiculous amount of persons who have helped to shape modern life as we know it.
    So I sat freezing while a narrator read out the achievements of the likes such as Arthur Conan Doyle, David Hume, Adam Smith, Alexander Graham Bell, Robert Lewis Stevenson, Robert Burns, Sir Walter Scott, James Watt, James Boswell, and James Young Simpson. The greatest part of the presentation was that out of a list of names which included one man who invented the telephone, and another who invented anesthesia, it was Sean Connery who received the loudest applause. I’m not ashamed to say I was a large contributor to this. Anesthesia is awesome. But it’s Sean Connery.
    Then the main event began.

    I grew up in D.C. I’m used to some pretty impressive fireworks. I remember standing on the mall and being able to feel the reverberations of the explosions in my chest, and seeing displays so dramatic it seemed as if the fire was about to start raining down around me. It’s still not as impressive as fireworks backlit by a castle. Especially when they’re being shot off right next to you (this by the same people who won’t let us prop our doors open for risk of fire).
    There were fireworks that corkscrewed into the air, leaving snaking trails of gold in their wake, there were fireworks that split in the air and buzzed around, there were the traditional large fireworks. Then there were more intricate designs, like the Scottish flag, which was created by shooting off a blue rectangle (cannot have been easy) and overlaying it with a silver X (really cannot have been easy). All in all, it was an incredible show.
    In stark contrast to the fanfare was the next event at the castle. Christmas held inside the castle proper, in the great hall. Going to see the carols was my first time actually inside the castle, and in order to put the experience into context I have to explain that as a member of Historic Scotland I sometimes get advertisement e-mails. One of these was an e-mail asking me if I had ever considered marrying at Edinburgh castle. With pictures, the e-mail described how I could have a small ceremony at the lovely St. Margaret’s chapel, and then have an impressive reception in the great hall. So it was with this frame of reference that I first visited Edinburgh castle.
    I peered into St. Margaret’s chapel, but didn’t bother going in for the simple reason that I wasn’t sure I’d fit. Okay, that’s a bit of hyperbole, but the e-mail said you could fit 25 people into the chapel, and reminded me of bit of the idea of clowns in a VW beetle. Not necessarily what I associate with a day of bliss but hey, maybe for some people?
    As for the great hall? It is splendid. Simply breathtaking. It’s an old stone ediface (naturally) with sweeping high rafters carved and painted in an intricate diamond pattern. The walls are are lined with carved wood pieces, and there is a magnificent fireplace in the front of the room.


Happy Holidays (the tree is multi-faith)

    There is also the small matter of all the weaponry lining the walls. Battle axes, swords, pistols, maces - the collection is in all different styles, from many different eras. Again, not, perhaps, the image I would choose to evoke on a day dedicated to eternal love. I also could not help thinking that for certain families the combination of a large gathering, an open bar, and that many sharp edges might not be a good one, but again, for some people, I’m sure it strikes just the right chord.
    Oddly enough, it did for Christmas. The historic society had placed a fake log in the fire, a tree in the corner, and the national opera’s choir at the front of the room. They sang carols and I think it was the first time I had heard carols sung in over four years. When they started into “Good King Wenceslas” replete with British accent and all, I almost cried.
    I’ve talked, year after year, about trying to find my Christmas. I mentioned that despite all my good experiences the last few years, the season still lacked a slight festive atmosphere. No more. Here in Edinburgh I have found jolly, I have found cheer, and they even have spiced apple cider. ‘Tis the seasons and there is tinsel and twinkle aplenty. And if it comes with a side of swords and battle axes, well, that’s just the castle’s way of adding in a little bit of culture.

Blog

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Esther in Africa

2012-01-12 06:11:00

Note from Anna: I am sorry that these are so slow in coming to online. That is mostly my fault!

Esther writes:

Firstly I want to say sorry Mormor! I have been remiss. This little
blurb has to be brief though, for two reasons, its getting close to
bed time, and my battery is about to run out.

When we arrived at training here we received a cook book that had a
recipe for mango wine. I wasn't that interested because it seemed
like too much work. We tried it during training and lets just say it
was not the finest wine the world has seen. I howeverm mentioned it to
a friend here at school and he was very interested. I therefore went
about looking for ways of making decent local alcohol. Long story
short, we have brewed a sweet ginger wine and a more potent spiced
mead. Mead, if anyone is wondering (yes, i know technically what we
made has its own specific name because of the spices...stop nit
picking) mead is an alcoholic beverage brewed with honey. I got the
honey from a man in the village who has his own bee hives and when I
told him what we were doing he asked for a taste. I said I'd trade
honey for mead. so, as promised we took our finished product to his
little shop to present, but he was not there. His wife was, so we
offered it up to her and said it was our wine for her husband.Thanks
were exchanged and we were off. seconds later she called back my
friend and asked, " so, this is to drink" " yes, it's like beer". A
moment, then, " can you taste it?" so we opened the bottle and drank a
small portion. when she saw that we had not dropped dead she let us on
our way. Apperantly, when you give a food gift to someone that you
don't know that well (this doesn't count for friends) you take it,
open it and eat it to show that you are not using witch craft to kill/
injure the recipient. Ya learn something new every day.

ES

Here we go again!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Malawian Adventures

2010-12-26 21:56:00

Well kids I've officially accepted my invitation and am leaving on February 24th to start my Malawian adventure.

This is where I will try, really, really, really hard to keep everyone updated with pictures and tales of my ongoings.

Wish me luck!

Look another blog post! Whoa!

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Malawian Adventures

2011-02-21 06:48:00

My going away party was last night. I do love my friends. They're so supportive and endlessly fun. I laughed so uncontrollably hard last night. I am very grateful. It was sad to say goodbye but I sent everyone away with pre-addressed envelopes and plenty of hugs. My heart just feels a lot of love at the moment, but I've only got this macbook for expression.

Everyone keeps asking me if I'm excited and I never know how to respond. I am walking into the unknown here. I have no idea what to expect, absolutely none. I am excited to have a new adventure, but other than that, I'm much more curious and pensive than excited. But I think that's all right.

Packing commenced today. Earlier than I thought but mostly I just needed to get some shit organized because IT IS EVERYWHERE. Me and my stuff have taken over the house and it is not okay. Despite having to say goodbye to my best friends, I was actually very productive today. Got my immunization records and deferment forms printed; FINALLY finished my press release (haha we'll see about that); did 3 loads of laundry; and literally started putting items into luggage, aka packing. But then me and my dad watched Boondock Saints 2 and ate two bowls of popcorn. So my clothing that I thought would be in my backpack by tonight is strewn about and I don't even care.

Cut ten inches off of my hair and dyed it red. I love it. I look pixie-ish and it is wonderful. Showered today and only used a nickel sized amount for shampoo!! Are you kidding me?? Amazing. I've gotten absolutely terrific reviews and it feels good. So happy I did it instead of leaving it long as suggested by all. I will post a picture asap. Or more like asaigati (as soon as I get around to it). Remember that acronym because it will probably come up often.

Well, I'm starting to drift off on top of my computer, that means time to peace out.

So thank you everyone that came to my dinner and party, it was absolutely wonderful and I had a lot of fun.

tty asaigati

p.s. Credit to Taylor Lyons for this incredible blog layout. It was all her ladies and gentleman, she is a genius, and it is awesome. Feed the fish at the bottom, it's fun!!

Bieber got the Herman

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Malawian Adventures

2011-02-23 04:52:00

10:50pm

Bieber got the Herman! http://cdn.babble.com/famecrawler/wp-content/uploads/2011/02/scaled2.jpg

I LOVE IT

He totally looks like a girl

totally

and i'm so glad i don't totally look like a boy

hahaha phew! You dodged that bullet

T-1.5 hours

Thu, 01 Jan 1970 00:00:00

Malawi Malawian Adventures

2011-02-26 05:29:00

All right everybody, here it is. I'm leaving in an hour and half for JFK. That means 2 AM for those of you who haven't checked the time stamp. No need for sleeping. Just one loooong shower and hopefully an episode or two of some choice television.
Everything is feeling real now. I got my yellow fever vaccine and had 7 hours of orientation today. I also almost fell asleep standing up. Yaaayy. I don't really have too much to say at the moment, this is just the ultimate countdown.

I do want to extend a very sincere thank you to my family and friends. Grandma and Grandpa, Sally, Emily, Laura, Mom, and Dad; you've all been so supportive and very generous with dinners and gifts and I really, really appreciate it. I have an amazing family and I will miss you all dearly. Hopefully I'll see you all soon, maybe for Christmas, but in the meantime I'll write you letters! :-)
Taylor, Kimi, Dan, Leah, Lexy, Mike, Karly, Blair, Dani B, Ellie, Mae, and Laura; thank you all so much. You've all been there for me and I know that I can count on every one of you to have my back. I love you and you're wonderful friends that I feel so, so lucky to have. Please write to me, I will write you back I promise.

Well, off to have my last hot and pressurized shower. And then my next big adventure begins!!!!

I love you
Thank you

~Clarissa

Peace Corps Journals

Lazy Photo Eye

THANK YOU!

How to Make Wine ala Peace Corps

Happy 50th Anniversary, Peace Corps

New Years (Hogmanny)

Graphic Images Below

Chance and the Youth Troupe

Hometown

Atsikana ndi Asimayi

Top Three homework answers from Malawi

Trainings, Faith and Decisions

February and Finances

Fully funded!!! Wahoo!!!

Chaka Chino

Malawi Music Project 2011

vacationing!

Third Week of January

Those who pray for rain shouldn't curse the mud...

Just One.

Just One.

For the Warm Heart.

VICTORY!!!

My very own slacker spiral

Wasalipa Sana!

ADDIE and workshop design

Moments in Malawi

December

Touristing

Hunger Season

Birthday, Incoming!

Oh, Africa

PC Malawi 2012!

Rain + Malawi = Beauty

Happy Holidays from the village!

New Year!

Pehpani (sorry)

Calling All Bwanas!

Likoma Island

Back in Africa

My Soft Bicycle

Mzungu and Machina Rage

Castles make life fun!

Blog

Here we go again!

Look another blog post! Whoa!

Bieber got the Herman

T-1.5 hours