Holiday Greetings

Because of I have been living in the present for the last five and a half months, I didn’t send out any Christmas cards; a fact I am a little ashamed by, considering how much fun I had last year. So, instead, I will have to wish you all a very merry Christmas via my blog; a little unconventional, I know, though no less sincere. And so, here is goes;

Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say on a bright Malawian Christmas Day. That’s the island greeting that we send to you from the land where palm trees sway. Here we know that Christmas will be green and bright, the sun to shine by day and all the stars at night. Mele kalikimaka is the wise way to say Merry Christmas to you.

Also, Peace on Earth is a probably a good holiday greeting, since I am promoting peace and friendship in Africa.

All in all, wishing you a lovely, warm, and fun holiday season and a Happy New Year filled with new beginnings and adventure.

Love, Chloe

P.S. Don’t forget to drink some egg nog for me

A bit on the weather (and the landscape)

Just returned from a two week In-Service Training (IST) at the College of Forestry in Dedza on Monday. Week 1 was the 15 health volunteers staying in on hostel, attending workshops from 8-4:30, and then going to Ed’s Bar for beers afterwards . The dynamics changed in Week 2 with the arrival of our Malawian counterparts, but the topics we touched on that week were much more relevant (in my opinion) than the first.The food here is delicious and plentiful, there is running water and warm showers, and though there are even more bugs here than at my site, they are only beetles, moths, and grasshoppers (which Malawians sautee in oil and eat. And of which I was adventurous enough to try); no ugly spiders, thank god. It was fun to be back at the college after three months at site. Not only am I so much more worldly and wise (haha), but the weather is different, the group is better adjusted, and our views on Malawi are more well rounded.

A couple days ago I had a chance to check my email and briefly read an article SF sent me in which a former Malawian PCV described Malawi as looking like Iowa in both the landscape and the fact that maize is the main crop. After reading the article, I began mulling it over in my head, wondering how it could be possible that Malawi looks like Iowa. Then, after climbing the small, yet surprisingly tall mountain behind the college and gaining a beautiful and far reaching view of the surroundings, I realized how different the Malawian landscape is from anywhere I have ever been. The land is admittedly flat, yet punctuated by tall (though small compared to the west) mountains. Even at my site, which is flat as a table, I can look into the distance and see mountains. So, despite the fact I have never visited Iowa, I would wager Malawi looks nothing like it.

The rains have come and the country is turning green and lush; finally Malawi looks like what I always imagined Africa to be. The foliage is amazing, the flowers are bright and colorful, and the birds and bugs are constantly singing and humming. The rains are like nothing I have ever experienced before; it literally pours and pours and then the sun comes out, making everything steamy, warm, and tropical feeling. However, though the weather in Dedza was pleasant and cool at night, upon returning to my site, I am dismayed to discover it has gotten even hotter with the arrival of the rains. The humidity is outrageous and my body is constantly sticky.

And so, back in the hot, wet weather for a week and a half before Christmas in Cape Maclear, I have dug and planted my garden, will build a classy bookshelf made from bricks and plywood, set into motion work plans for the beginning of the year, and think about my New Years Resolutions. I must admit I am feeling apprehensive about the first of the year, since it will mark the true beginning of my work as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

Until this point, the expectations have been fairly straightforward; you were expected to show up and be present for training and then observe and learn as much as possible in the first three months . However, now that we have a level of comfort in the village, an understanding of our community, and the tools from IST, the pressure is on to get serious. Thus far, I have had fun weekend trips, IST and Christmas vacay to look forward to as I move up and down (as the villagers say), but once the New Year hits, its business time (even though it is too freaking hot to wear any kind of socks, let alone those of the business persuasion).

But oh, I am just taking it one day at a time, which is a surprisingly great way to live. Despite the fact that Malawi is the 4^th poorest country in the world mainly because of the Malawian way of living day to day, there really isn’t any other way to go about life here. The American style of hurrying about, traveling large distances day to day, and being able to access whatever you want, whenever and wherever creates a frenzied energy; a feeling that would drive a person living in the village crazy in one day for want of results and action. However, in the village, no one wears a watch and everyone is flexible to a fault (like when you planned for a month to have a meeting on a certain day and then the week before someone breezily tells you that day isn’t good), making living in the present a necessity.

work work work?

Mid November already, and I can say that already I feel sufficiently baked from the sun. Just this week, a slight wind has blown in, doing what little it can to keep us all slightly cooler in the sweltering heat. However, the aluminum roof on my house click click clicks constantly from the sun and what little respite is given from the wind is compromised by the extremely loud banging of tree branches falling on the roof, day and night, and the dust that sticks to my sweaty body. Yet, my house is becoming my home, my surroundings more and more familiar, and the people of Kalimira are becoming used to the Azungu woman living in their midst. Lately, instead of being asked if I cook nsima at home or being told I must speak Chiyao, villagers have come to me asking for medical advice and medicine; neither of which I have much to give.

I think most people within the vicinity think I am a doctor, or at least a nurse. Last week I was in the Park and talking with one of the staff members who, upon learning my name, promptly called me Doctor Chloe (a title I was sorry to have to deny). Later that same week, I was asked if my husband in America was a doctor; a question whose response could be approached from so many angles that I was initially flabbergasted. And so, as there has been a request for information about my “work,” I will honor it by devoting this blog to what I have been doing in Africa besides sweating, battling ants and spiders, and not speaking chiyao.

I have already been in Malawi for almost five months; three of which have been spent in the village. Next week, I will return to Dedza for In-Service Training, a two week training on what to do with the information we have gathered about our villages. So it seems, this is a perfect time to write about my activities, as I am already reflecting on the information I have gathered and what my next step will be.

Mornings are spent at the health center, observing, manning the registration book, chatting with the staff, and warding off attempts to teach me how to give shots to the Under 5 crowd (no thanks). My observations have been surprising, frustrating, and intense at times, and have really given me an understanding of the challenges Malawi faces not only in terms of providing proper diagnosis and care to its people, but also how the information is received, processed, and used by consumers. Women are being sent away with no contraception, including condoms, because they are unable to remember the date of their last period (which shouldn’t be surprising in a culture where people don’t even know their age, let alone the date of their last menses), patients are brought in after months of suffering and only when it is too late to save them, and the most basic medicines are unavailable even when people do come in (for example: a terrible case of pink eye developed in my neighbor just last week and despite my advice to go to the health center and to NOT touch her eyes, there was no medicine available at either of the two closest health centers and now, even though it has cleared up for her, the rest of the children in the house are currently suffering from varying stages of it). All of these problems seem inordinately out of my league.

Besides observing at the health center, I have also met with the local chiefs, some of the leaders of local committees, and interviewed community members to gain an understanding of the specific problems faced within my local community. Writing up the interview questions, translating them into Chichewa and then trying them out to see if they were even understandable was a challenge. I quickly discovered their answers lacked the depth of critical thinking I was expecting (even with the chiefs) and some of the questions, especially a few I was particularly interested in hearing what people had to say about, weren’t even answerable. However, interviewing was a valuable exercise that really put me in my place, so to speak, in terms of what people are (and are not) thinking about, their values, and how they are perceiving the world around them. Overall, I suppose when your main concerns are the location of boreholes, transportation (by bike) to the nearest health center, and elephants trampling your crops (and kids), there is not much extra time for contemplating such worldly matters as the state of foreign aid in Africa, the presidents stance on resuable energy, and developing a support group for survivors of relationship abuse (especially since there seems to be a unanimous belief that there is absolutely no violence in the community).

Finally, I conducted a PACA (participatory analysis for community action) meeting under a mango tree in front of Kafulafula school. I invited about twenty people with the intention I would split up the group into men and women and conduct the activities in separate groups who would then come together to present and discuss their conclusions. However, in reality, eleven people showed up and so I quickly readjusted our activities. First we did a community mapping activity to get an idea of what the area looks like; where the boreholes, schools, roads, football fields, maize mills, community based organizations, etc are. We created a map for each of the three villages represented by the group; Tambala, Maselema, and Kalimira. It turns out that as a new person to the community, I remembered places that the others had forgotten. After that, we created a seasonal calendar, charting out weather patterns, agricultural patterns of planting and harvesting, disease cycles of malaria, cholera, TB, and colds, major holidays, when people have more money, less food, and a lot of time. At the end, I asked what people had learned from this exercise. One man said he didn’t realize there were some communities with more resources than others and another said he didn’t know that diseases came and went according to patterns; two pretty significant things to come out of a meeting, I think.

And so, now it is time to put all this information together, sort through it, and see what can be done; an admittedly daunting task, all things considered. All together, community members expressed a pressing need for a borehole, followed by a bike ambulance. Additionally, and I think it goes without saying, most people wish there were more opportunities to earn a living, though given the chance, the likelihood of them taking advantage of an opportunity is questionable. Overall (and this is definitely subject to change), I think key areas of focus for the next two years are going to be education about nutrition, contraception, using locally available plants as natural medicine, and growing kitchen gardens to supply food for families. Also, I am interested in exploring IGA (income generating activity) options for the women of the village; perhaps baked goods to sell on the road, peanut butter, etc. I would like to start a women’s group at the school to sort of channel all this information through, as I believe the women who would attend such meetings are the ones who would be more apt to influence others.

Lastly, I want to take advantage of the time women and patients are waiting to see a doctor at the health center to educate them; basically using the health center not only as a place to receive medicine and weigh babies but as a learning center. Training the HSA (health surveillance assistants) will be key, as well as creating interesting and informative posters. Lessons won't always have to be scheduled, mostly impromptu on an as needed basis (the need being all the time, I suppose).

Phew! Now that I have just outlined it all out, I feel a little more prepared to write up my thoughts in a more official document. Obviously, there is no shortage of work to be done, however, I must admit to feeling incredibly overwhelmed by the outrageous amount of opportunities I could take advantage of. I think creating goals and a structured plan for the next year will prove useful as a reference to me; someone who needs a little structure to keep me on track. However, I also hope the Peace Corps will provide some useful tools for me in terms of a jumping off point.

Although I am feeling overwhelmed, it is one that presents a challenge, rather than a wave a despair. I am still so content and happy to know I am Malawi, doing what I have thought about for a long long time and the challenges I face seem, for the first time, to be of the “real world” nature. Even as I jump around shaking ants off my back after foolishly leaning on a tree crawling with thousands of them, listening to the hoots of the amayis and knowing I should feel embarrassed, I am know I am where I am supposed to be.

sending you all my love, all the time. and sorry for the long post this time. you asked for info about work, and info you got!

P.S. Check out what the spiders at my house (which aren’t actually spiders) look like. Some poor fellow out of his mind seems to want to keep one in his aquarium when all I want to do is run away from them. http://www.faunaimportuk.com/caresheets/cswindspider.htm

Spyders, Sweaters, and Simple Theories

Wow, can’t believe its November already. I have been here four months, the better part of a half year, and the time has flown by. I can only hope the rest of my service will go by this quickly! I keep thinking this is the honeymoon period of my new life and soon I will grow disillusioned. But, I as of now, I am happy, or at least content, with pretty much every aspect of my life…minus the enormous scary spiders I find in my house daily.

As I settle into my new life, my thought processes about what it means to be a Malawian are developing. I am constantly trying to make sense of my surroundings; why are people acting the way they do, why is Malawi in its current state of poverty while other(western) countries in the world can not only feed, but clothe and provide electricity for most of its people. Thus far, I have only been able to explain it in a psychological way (which I am sure no one is surprised by). Here is my amateur theory; When we talk about malnutrition and food insecurity, we always think about children. Every day, I see children in the village with Kwashiorkor’s and Marassmus (two types of severe malnutrition) or protruding bellies I am sure are filled with worms. However, it seems like the conversation about malnutrition stops when children grow into adults. Sure they are skinny and of course we are worried about anemic mothers who cant produce breast milk, but what we forget is that along with stunted growth comes stunted neurological development. Strong neurological connections are not created because children’s bodies are working overtime just to keep them alive and also because their mothers aren’t even talking to them, let alone encouraging exploration of their environment or gasp reading to them. So then, these children grow into adults incapable of critical thinking because they literally lack the neurons necessary for moving beyond life necessities of carrying water, making babies, and building houses. No wonder they are having problems distributing medicine, establishing democracy, and pushing for women’s rights!

So, as of late, I have been working on remembering that whenever children yell “Give me my money!”, as I ride to the health center and as I look over the simple, universally identical answers I received from all 20 villagers I interviewed last week. To compare the actions of the Malawians to those of Americans would be a fatal mistake. However, as western culture is my home base, I have nothing else to compare it to and can’t help but sign in exasperation when women stare unashamedly at me while I wait in line for water at the borehole.

Onto more domestic issues; my cat Spyder (which looks way cooler with a Y than with the regular I) is turning out to be quite entertaining, in fact. A little orange tabby with a pink nose, with ears that seem in proportionately large to the rest of his body. And speaking of large; his testicles are definitely growing, too. I have never had an animal with balls and I have to say sometimes I catch a glimpse of them and can’t help but giggle. I feel like he should put on some pants or something….

Hard to believe its sweater and hunting season as I slap on sunscreen and roll around in bed sweating every night. Rain has rolled in these last couple nights, pounding on my tin roof and cooling the air and reminding everyone of the season yet to come. I am excited for the rain and the idea that the country will be transformed into a jungle of verdant flora and fauna. However, along with the rain come the spiders into my house, attempting refuge from the water. This means I spend the nights running around with a flipflop trying to squish something the size of a deck of cards. Even at night in bed with my net tucked in around me, I wake up feeling my skin crawl with imaginary bugs. Many times, after related an especially disturbing story of spider killing to Amayi Rashidi, she just looks at me like I am the crazy one for caring about huge spiders that move at the speed of light in my house.

Next week I am off to the lake for another weekend of swimming in the ocean-like lake and laying on the beach. One of the PCVs has befriended a group of Greek brothers who own a house on lake and have invited us for the weekend. At first I was skeptical but the temptation of free lodging on the lake was too much to resist. Although I must say, if I don’t develop skin cancer in my later years, I will consider myself a lucky girl.

Sending my love to all of my sweater wearing friends in the west. I think of you often.

XOXO Chloe

The Usual

Another week in the village gone by. Can’t believe it’s already the end of October and I have been at site for2 months and in country for 4, the better part of a half year! I have been very good about living in the present and so the days go by quickly. I wake In the mornings at 6:30, often to a neighbor coming into my backyard. Half asleep, I rise and after realizing I cannot make conversation in English, let alone Chichewa 2 minutes after getting up, my neighbor leaves and I begin to make a fire. I sit at the breakfast table and read my book until around 9 and then cycle to the health center. Afternoons are spent eating lunch with friends and walking around the village chatting. I begin making dinner at 6pm, which is when the sun sets every day, eat and bathe by candlelight and then retire to my bed after doing a thorough search of my bed for insects.

Last week I acquired a small, orange boy kitten who I have named Spider. He enjoys climbing up my eucalyptus tree and fence, much like a spider, and I am very pleased since he is eating all the huge insects in my house. Besides bugs, I feed him small fish, rice, and whatever is left over from dinner. He likes to hang out around my yard, meowing and playing and when he is not at my house, he is found next door at the Kambale’s. Amayi Kambale is always saying, Pussy pussy pussy pussy when she calls for him. It’s hard not to laugh. He is nice company and finally! I have a cat who enjoys sitting in my lap. And won’t run away when there is a loud noise.

Other than that, I must say I have not much else to report. As I settle into a routine, the villagers are becoming more accustomed to me and I, them. Children no longer yell “Give me money,” as I ride by every day, though they still run after my bike. Sometimes, when an older boy yells to me for money, I pretend like I have lost control of my bike and will run into him. It works every time. Mean, I know, but I get so annoyed hearing them begging in broken English. The parents think it is funny and it seems there is no sense of humility.

Thinking of all of you as I eat mangoes instead of apples and as it heats up instead of cools down. Next weekend I will be spending Halloween by the lake. Haven’t decided my costume yet so I think I will just stick with a swim suit; tugs as my Australian friend would call my suit. Happy Halloween!

Xoxo C

Heatin’ Up

October in the west is the month where everything descends into hibernation for the next seven months, but in Malawi it marks the beginning of the hot season. All day long I am sweating, guzzling water that is never cool enough, and proclaiming, along with everyone else, how hot it is. Days are spent sitting in the shade of porches or the countless mango trees that populate the village. Mid October also marks mango season. Children run around eating mangoes, skin and all, and offering me mangoes wherever I go. This week they are just turning ripe, but for the past three weeks I have been offered unripe mangoes that I lay on the window sill to bask in the sun until sweet.

These past two weeks have been spent socializing in the village and truly understanding what life is like for the millions of people in this world who live closer to the natural elements than Americans ever have to; without running water, electricity, and regular access to the outside world. Every night I kill at least one oversized bug; scorpions, Siamese twin (or mating) cockroaches, or these enormous crickets that are so juicy when squished. However, the mosquitoes continue to stay away, which I am thankful for.

Gradually, I am coming to understand the social structure of the village. I have been befriended by a couple of woman who invite me for lunch and stop by to chat (in broken chewa). These women, along with Amayi Kambale, are perhaps what one would call the middle class wives of the village. A few of them have little businesses selling baked goods so they have a little “disposable income,” and they are known and respected by the village. I am grateful to them because unlike many of the other villagers who come to me asking for soap or food or medicine, these women haven’t asked me for anything other than friendship. It is my hope that it will be through these woman that I will be able to send out my message.

On that note, last week I met with the chiefs of the three villages I will be working in. With the help of my “colleague,” Gayson (pronounced GYson), I asked them questions while he interpreted. It seems that the big concerns in the area are not enough food, elephants destroying crops, and lack of transportation for the sick to the health center. This week I will conduct interviews around the village, with the help of Nelly Kambale whose English is very good, talking with adults and young adults. I am excited to explore the village with Nelly’s help and to hear what these people have to say.

This past week, Patuma, a young woman in her first year of secondary school, began coming over to help me. I am paying her school fees and in return she is carrying water and sweeping me for me. She is very slim, shaves her head and quiet and I am so happy not to have to carry water anymore. I wonder what she thinks of me and my azungu house; sitting at a table to eat with a fork, standing while I am cooking, rather than sitting down, and sleeping in a bed opposed to on a mat on the floor. This is the first time I have ever been a boss to anyone and so I am very cognizant of using my powers for good. I want to be a benevolent boss, which could be harder, or easier, due to the language barrier, than normal.

Overall, I am well. Sometimes it is hard for me to get out of bed in the morning or to the leave my house. Every interaction I have takes twice the amount of work I am used to and because I can’t use words; instead I must be smiling and upbeat all the time. This is especially hard when someone is telling me, for the 20^th time that day, that I must learn to speak Chiyao. Sitting on the matt with ants crawling on me, repeating sentences in Yao I do not understand with villagers hooting in laughter at my botched attempts, I do not feel gracious and peace oriented; only like screaming and stomping off. However, once I am through these incidences, I tell myself that anything worth doing during this time in my life, whether it be in Africa or the States, would be challenging. And, as crazy as it may sound, I may as well be in a remote, hot, and dusty place speaking an arguably obsolete language rather than working 9-5 with a bunch of white liberals somewhere in Montana. No offense.

XOXO to all you white liberals. I really do love you.

C

Nyumba Yanga

In my house there are Ants. Everywhere. Oh my god, I woke to them crawling on me at 4am last night. They are small but they are numerous. And, big cockroaches and big crickets in the chimbutzi, plus one huge purple centipede. No mosquitoes though. Which means the question is; what’s worse: mosquitoes or ants in the house, mosquitoes or roaches in the chim. At first I thought anything was better than god damn mosquitoes but now I don’t know. Especially since roaches are so quick and will run over your foot with no problem. And, I know there is no way I will ever get rid of all the ants. Even as I write this I feel as if there are ants crawling on me. I have sprinkled my house with ant poison, called mankwala (medicine), but I think I am fighting a losing battle.And, my kitchen and bafa smell like bat urine since before I moved in, my house was a bat cave. Guaranteed the smell will never go away.

However, despite these relatively minor inconviences, I am so glad to FINALLY be living in my house. After three months in country, I have officially arrived. Each day I wake to the sounds of goats bleeting, babies crying and my neighbor, Amayi Kambale, laughing. After waking, I attempt to make fire, usually unsuccessfully the first two attempts, and then take my first trip to the borehole. Carrying water is officially a pain and I am currently working on finding a young woman to help me. I will pay her school fees and she will carry water for me.

I have been unofficially adopted by my neighbors, the Kambales (meaning small plate in Chichewa), and I am so grateful to have a host family that is so happy and welcoming. The father, Tedman, is the principal of the school that sits in front of my house, and so I call him Tedman the Headman. His wife, Flora, and their oldest daughter Nelly, who is 16, have a small business making mandazi, the African equivalent of a donut, and they are always checking in with me and sharing their baked goods. Richard and Vincent, 12 and 9 are darling and very nice and Danwell, who is four, is always hanging around looking as if he has just smoked a huge joint. His eyes are really squinty, he always has this goofy grin on his face, and he sort of waddles around, but with purpose.

Our houses are right next door and when I am in my backyard, I can hear Flora laughing. She is always so happy and says the funniest things in English. Like when I come over she is always commanding me; please get in; meaning she wants me to come into the house. And also, when she is at my house and is leaving, she says, I am out. She wears this black gangster beanie which makes me think that she is putting all the thugs in America to shame with her true gangster expressions and hat. But the funniest thing is when she is describing something or giving me directions. Instead of just saying it all the way through, she will sprinkle in Whats throughout. She will say “The things you want to keep, put them what? in your house. Because people will what? take them when you are not here.”

The Kambales are so different than the family I lived with during homestay, and I am very grateful for their positive energy and their loving presence. Just this evening, Tedman told me he loves his wife so he does not do naughty things to her. I cant even tell you how hard it was for me not to laugh when he said that.

Even though I am so lucky to be welcomed by the Kambales and glad to finally be living in the village, it is truly the ultimate reality check. This is actually where I am going to spending the next two years and these are actually the people I need to build relationships with. In the mornings, I enjoy my little routine of making fire, getting water, and having breakfast but often it is hard for me to leave the house. Once I do I usually enjoy myself, but my presence attracts so much attention and demands so much energy that I always have to be on point. My Chewa is fine and people are always impressed that I know what I do, but really I dont know what they are talking about much of time so after meeting someone and going through the initial greetings I dont really know where to take the conversation. Plus, it’s so hard for me to remember everyone’s name but of course they know me. I am meeting so many people everyday; people with names I have never heard before and can barely pronounce once, let alone remember them even ten minutes later. However, one thing that does make it a little easier is the fact that it seems Africans don’t have a huge repertoire when it comes to names. Margret (yes that’s how they spell it), Yesnati (or any equivalent), Shamila, Shamimu, Ayisha, and Patoma and of course Omar, Hussein, and Mohammad since the area is predominately Muslim. However, yesterday I did meet a boy named Whiskey…

That’s all for now, I suppose. Time for bed. Since I am in my new house I have been waking up and listening to the new sounds in the middle of the night. Hyenas, children crying, women making noises to scare away the elephants that are known to come through and literally trample houses down (people actually come to the health center with broken bones from elephants coming to their houses at night). Sometimes I get scared thinking about witchcraft, which people take very seriously here. Many people have asked me if there is witchcraft in America and the Peace Corps actually had a training on it, basically telling us to stay away from people associated with it because it is a serious matter. During the day its never something I think about but of course, in the middle of the night when I am all alone in an African village listening to women hooting and whistling, I can assure you its not far from my mind. Its okay though, Amayi Kambale has assured me its not witchcraft.

Sending you all my love, as usual. I have been dreaming of fall evenings in Montana and missing the back-to-school feeling that always comes along with it. Even though I am enjoying the hot African sun, I will never be able to get the West out of my mind. XOXO

First Week at Site

Hey all!

I hope you are so proud of me that I am updating my blog a second time in two weeks after failing to do so for two months. Perhaps this will show you how serious I am about my previous claim of becoming more regular in my posts.

As I write this, the sun is setting and despite all precautions to keep them out of the house, I am plagued by the constant buzz of mosquitoes all around me. At night I sit on the couch and if I have any bit of bare skin, I can almost guarantee it will be devoured by three or ten of the hundreds udzudzu in the house. Even when I sit in bed reading under my net I am harassed by at least one that managed to sneak in with me. Few things are more irritating than reading with a mosquito buzzing in your ear, let alone sleeping; thus I have been reduced to spending at least seven minutes a night in bed on my knees hunting for a needle in a haystack, only to miss squishing it when I finally get the chance. Standing outside of my room, you would think I was clapping for an encore. En contraire…

Currently, I am living at the house of an Austrian woman, Katharina, who is volunteering for the year as a teacher trainer for Help Malawi, the NGO who requested the presence of a PCV and who has built the health center I am assigned to, as well as the school I am staying at now. Every day this week I have been riding my bike 14 kilometers roundtrip to check on the progress of my house and to help clean the health center which will open on Monday. I think I will be able to move into my house Monday, as well!

In the meantime, I am keeping myself occupied with day to day activities and trying not to get to ahead of myself by looking at the days and weeks and months ahead of me. The other PCVs I have talked to this week have confessed feelings of boredom and listlessness but I am happy to report I have felt neither. Even when I want time to myself there are children coming to the door, Katharina showing up, chores to do, and Chewa to be spoken. My language abilities are admittedly improving, however slowly, and I continue to learn from my language faux pas. Example: the other day I was telling some Malawians about the work my dad does fixing bikes and cars. I was using the verb to fix but accidentally omitting the N that changes the meaning from to urinate, to fix. Only days later did I realize I had been telling people my dad pees on bikes and cars. Weird Azungu….

Despite those silly lost in translation occurrences, people continue to welcome me wherever I go. However, as an azungu (white/rich) woman, I am in the challenging position of having lived and worked in a man’s world while still being expected to cook nsima and wear long skirts. Straddling these two worlds will make integration a challenge, as men don’t accept me as an equal and the only lives the women know are that of marriage, babies, and the house. However, it is my wish that as I continue to speak and interact, the villagers will come to realize my sincerity and commitment to the task at hand.

And with that, I am calling it a night. Tomorrow I will post this inside Liwonde National Park and perhaps Katharina and I will have a chance to lay out by the pool. If I can’t live by the lake or swim in the crocodile infested waters of the Shire, I can at least have a swimming pool to enjoy once in a while. But shhhh don’t tell Peace Corps about this unexpected luxury.

As always, sending my love to you all. It’s hard to believe it’s already September; summer is over and a new season has begun! Keep sending me your thoughts and letters and know that I am out here showing pictures and speaking broken Chewa of you.

Xoxo C

P.S I am attempting to post some select choice pictures for you. If you are looking at them you know I have succeeded but if not, the internet is too slow.

finally, a new post after two months!

so sorry to all for not being a very diligent blogger. my internet access has been less than easily accessible and when it is, there are thirty five other eager individuals vying for some time. once i get to site though, my access will hopefully be more regular, less rushed, and i will be able to use my own computer.
oh, but so much has happened, the biggest news being that today i was sworn in as an official peace corps volunteer! we all wore red white and blue corsages and received special pins to commemorate the occasion. pictures to come, i promise.
in the meantime, i will be traveling to my village, Nandumbo, in the district of Balaka on friday. for those of you with a map, it is located between the town of Ulongwe and Liwonde national park, meaning i am close to the Shire River which is home to hippos, crocodiles, elephants, and a million kinds of birds. on my week long site visit i was even able to take a boat safari! however, the landscape around the park is as flat as a table, very hot and dry, and even the boreholes pump salty water. needless the say, the mosquitoes love it.
as for my site details; i am the first pcv to serve at this site and the health center i will be working at is just opening this week (or so they say). my presence in Nandumbo was requested by a NGO; Help Malawi, whose headquarters is located inside the park at Mvuu (hippo) camp. i have been told that malnutrition and malaria are problems within the community as well as maternal health and, of course, HIV/AIDS. my position as a brand new volunteer whose presence is coinciding with the opening of a new health center is unique, and i am excited at this opportunity, despite the daunting nature of the challenge that lay ahead.
my house, at the moment, is being worked on and will hopefully be finished in a couple weeks. it was pretty much in shambles when i saw it for the first time, but i believe that once it has been fixed up it will be a pretty sweet spot. the house is big with three bedrooms and a living room, plus a separate kitchen, covered batha and storage room in the backyard, not to mention my very own chimbutzi. i hope to start a garden as soon as possible and i will be lugging a couple of how to garden books, among many others, with me to site. in the meantime, though, while my house is being finished, i will be staying with Katharina, a young austrian teacher working for Help Malawi at a local primary school.
i am sending you all my love and hope all is well stateside. i swear to you my blogging will become more regular as my life becomes more of a routine and i look forward to your comments. i have love love loved getting emails, letters, and messages from you all, even if i have yet to respond. you make me feel so awesome and loved and i wouldn't mind if you kept it up.
talk soon and cheers! C

Goodbyes

8:25 AM

Sitting at the McDonalds in the Denver airport after a six A.M. flight out of Boise. Needless to say I didn’t sleep much last night and although I am tired, my stomach is queasy from nerves. My mind is filled with thoughts of all the goodbyes and well wishes I received yesterday and throughout the week. Saying goodbye is hard; so many words unspoken and feelings unshared. When you are always around a friend or family member, you don’t have to worry to about saying all the things you feel and think because you are content to be in their presence and enjoy their company. But then, when you separate, it suddenly becomes important for you portray just how meaningful this person is to you even though you may not have the words to do so. That’s how I have been feeling this past week; it has been hard for me to verbalize the deep feelings I have for all my friends and family who have been so good to me throughout my life.

Still in Boise

Finally! Setting up this blog has been on my list of things to do for the past month and now it can be crossed off the quickly shrinking list of things to do before I depart.
I have never had a blog before (I can't even keep a private journal) so this is definitely going to be a constant work in progress. But, I also think its going to be very good way for me to record my thoughts and experiences since I know others are counting on me to keep them updated.
As of now, my bags are not packed, though I think I have most everything I will be taking in my possession. I leave July 1st for Philadelphia to meet up with the rest of the Health Volunteers going to Malawi and then we fly to the capital, Lilongwe, on July 2nd.
After so much time thinking about and planning for something I still don't know much about, I am ready to get there and begin my work and life in Africa.
My address for the next two months will be: Chloe Ross, PCV
Peace Corps/Malawi
Box 208
Lilongwe
Malawi
Send me stuff if you can and know that it is predicted to take around four weeks to send and receive mail.
More later....