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
Chloe, I heart you
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