cold cokes and kwacha

Even in Malawi, March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. Which would explain why I am feeling more peaceable as the month ends than when it originally started. In with unease and jaded self-examination, out with acceptance and calm. Maybe it’s the thought of the two beach trips in my near future or the fact that I feel like I am getting my stride (finally! after 10 months!).

My relationship with Mr. Juma continues to be a source of happiness and learning in my life and I am continually amazed by this unexpected friendship and partnership. His outlook, experience, and intrinsic sense of right and wrong has truly influenced my constantly expanding insight and knowledge of Malawi. Last week Juma and I made an appointment to meet with the local Member of Parliament, MP Mpawen,i at his home/hotel, a 10k bike ride and 30 minute minibus ride away. It was so easy to make the appointment; all I did was call the MP, who was extremely happy to hear from me, so I really had no idea what to expect. That day I ate nsima made by Ines, Juma’s extremely petite wife, and we traveled to the meeting.

When we showed up to the hotel, we had to wait a little while for the MP, since he had been attending a funeral in another district. We were served cold! cokes and when he showed up, he escorted us to sit on the veranda. He was quite pleasant, actually, charming and interested in the borehole we are working on. He even recognized Mr. Juma since, as I have said, Juma is a man about town. In the end, he told us the government only allocated funds for three boreholes in our area (what is essentially a county) but that he knows water is a problem, wants development on this level, and is happy to help us move forward. Which means he will give us 40,000K (260USD) initially to site the borehole with the high possibility of more for the mandatory fundraising, sanitation, and pump maintenance trainings that are not included in the cost of the actual digging. Horay!

The entire time we were talking, though, people kept showing up to ask him for money. A woman came needing money for transport to the hospital, two men asking for money to buy cement to finish building a mosque, another woman and a small child needing money for a funeral. Every time a person would kneel in front of him (and Juma and I by extension, since we were the guests of the MP), he would pull out of a huge wad of cash and peel back the bills). It took me a minute to realize this was completely normal but I didn’t make a connection with these people and myself and Mr. Juma until the end of our meeting.

MP Mpaweni wrapped us up with another chilled soda, saying he was going to Lilongwe for the following week to get the money together, but would plan to come to the village to give the money to committee in a little ceremony. AWESOME!!! Then he completely surprised me by giving Juma and I each 500K (plus 4,00K to Juma for a pit he dug at the health center) and telling us his driver would drive us back to the village. First though, the driver would stop at the market so that we could spend our kwacha. I couldn’t believe it but Mr. Juma played the whole thing totally cool. I bought cabbage and eggs, Juma; sugar, laundry soap, and a couple of manufactured cigs (since he normally rolls his own).

When we ate together that night (goat because Juma was feeling flush with Kwach), Mr Juma laughed at me for being so completely blown away by the afternoon. I asked him if he knew he would be getting some pocket money when we left for the meeting that afternoon (which he did) and why didn’t he prepare me?? Then he told me that 500k isnt really even that much; the MP before Mpaweni would have given us 1000k. oh geeze.

Needless to say, we were feeling pretty pleased with ourselves. Until we had a meeting with the Water Committee and were faced with figuring out who we are going to trust the money with between the time the MP gives it to us and the guys come to site the borehole. I don’t want to keep the money since I don’t think that is my role and neither Mr. Juma’s, but that makes the most logical person the elected treasurer of the committee. Except that I don’t trust this woman for a couple different reasons; her daughter stole some candy and a couple of bars of soap from me (minor things, I know, but I also know she knew since everyone in the family is using the same bafa and the same soap, not just the daughter) and she was weird about it when I said something, immediately turning it around and asking me for money to buy rice. And also, she was entrusted by another committee she belongs to store vegetables and she ate them all instead of selling them. That second thing I learned from Ines

At the meeting, though, even though I stressed how important it is that the person in charge of the 40,000 Kwacha cash is trustworthy and that the MP will not be pleased if the money is used for something else, they still insisted she is the right person (she wasn’t at that meeting). They even said, at the end of the meeting, “Don’t worry about the money, Chloe.” I AM WORRYING ABOUT IT, THOUGH!!! I don’t trust this woman! However, I have repeatedly expressed my concerns with Mr. Juma and he continues to assure me. Essentially, his logic is that because the people of the community will all know she has the money, she won’t steal it. However, what about other family members of hers that are desperate and even less trustworthy? How easy would it be to reveal where the money was being kept and then look the other way? or to take some of the money for her own use? She certainly doesn’t have money to pay it back, and neither does the community. Obviously I am still thinking about this, worry about it. However, I am beginning to think this is going to be a lesson in trust in the larger scheme of things. A lesson in giving it up to a higher power while thinking positive.

I guess it is sort of weird that in the midst of all this I am still able feel calm and collected. I think its because of how much I am enjoying gardening and working around my house. I obsess about my flowers, and spend at least 30 minutes a day thinking about them, which I think gives you an idea about the state of my romantic commitments at this time. All my clothes are finally in drawers after my three month wait for a dresser to be built and my books are cute on the shelf. The furniture is plain wood, the curtains are flowery linen, and my village-made wicker chairs complete a sort of French Countryside in Africa feel. A look completed by high waisted, flowy skirts, oversized lace tops, flower and check prints, and bright colors. Nice aesthetics are key.

I continue to feel happy about my current geographic location and content with my lifestyle, though every day I miss the beauty of Western America and dream of luxuries like walking anonymously down the street, going to a movie theater, and eating frosted baked goods. I cant imagine how it will be when I finally return.

Sending my love, all the time.

Cheers! Chloe