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 20th 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
Hi Chloe! I feel like I have just visited you in your village - you are such a gifted writer. Please let me know what I can send to support you and your neighbors. And, on those mornings when it is hard to leave your home, think of me walking by your side, arm in arm. I will send positive thoughts and prayers to you.
ReplyDeleteMuch Love, Tesa
Chloe! You are an amazing writer. It sounds like you are having quite the adventure. I have sent you a few post cards, I hope you have recieved them. I am currently in Milwaukee, Wisconsin visiting my Dad on the way to Vermont. I would love to send you a package with some love from home. Is your address the same? I hope so because I just sent another post card to it this morning! Send me an email with anything you might like.. And stay strong, it is amazing the things you have already learned in such a short period of time. Not many people could adapt to the situation you chose to face. You are an incredible person. Much love.
ReplyDeleteEmily