Chéri, the elephants have been restless again

This past weekend, as a reward to myself for finishing my thesis and making some good progress on my assessment, Jennifer and I went to Liwonde National Park in the heart of Malawi. This was my first super touristy thing and a major treat after spending much of the first two three weekends in Malawi parked in front of the computer.

We had an amazing time and I have the pictures and a slight case of heat stroke to prove it.

Liwonde is set around the Shire (Shir-EE) River which snakes its way through southern Malawi. Liwonde is home to hippos, crocs, zebra, rhinos, loads of birds, antelope, warthogs, monkeys, two very reclusive lions, even more reclusive leopards, but most importantly, elephants. We were lucky enough to see many of the animals who call Liwonde home over the course of our one night stay deep in the park. We opted to say as far in as possible at a place called Mvuu (hippo in Chichewa) Camp and it was worth every penny.

The whole adventure started out with a 40 minute ride up the river passing hippos and crocs along the way under a clear sky (the first in about 5 days). My father has told me I convey my feelings well in these posts, but I can say there are no words to express the absolute natural beauty of the park.

The river was like glass, the clouds hung in the blue sky in a way that I never see at home; everything was more vivid in an almost haunting way. We arrived at Mvuu and only had a little time before we set out on our first game drive.

As soon as we left the camp, we were immediately surrounded by a wilderness I have never experienced before. It was so strange just stepping into a National Geographic safari. I had it in my head that we would need to drive for a while before we would see animals, but that idea was immediately erased as we passed warthogs foraging in packs, baboons grooming each other, herds of bushbucks, impalas, and even a few sable antelope. We went in search of elephants, but found hippos instead.

While hippos spend most of the day in the water to protect their sensitive skin, they venture on land at night in search of food. Let me tell you, it is impressive and intimidating to round a corner and face an enormous hippopotamus in the middle of the road. These creatures may look gentle, but they are the most dangerous animal in Africa to people and it was humbling to be so close to them.

While we did not see any elephants on our night drive - it was a great way to start the evening and experience at Liwonde.

Fast forward a few hours to when we are settling in after a decadent meal...

"Jennifer, do you hear that? I think something is outside."

Of course, like idiots, we open the door and come face to face with a grazing hippo no farther than about 15 feet from our porch. Needless to say we spent a mosquito-ridden period of time on the porch watching the hippo lumber around the meadow in front of the chalets. We also sent a restless night getting up to see what this or that sound was, hoping for another sighting. We were frequently deceived by the snoring Brit in the chalet next to us, who no joke, rivaled the hippos in volume.

The next morning we set off on our boat safari and it did not disappoint. While we saw many animals and birds, the undisputed highlight was the 60 plus elephants we spotted in the reeds along the river. We spent about an hour just drifting with the current mere feet from the herd. I have never seen anything like it.

I remember the first time I dreamed of going to Africa when I was younger. I had seen "A Far Off Place" with Reese Witherspoon and Ethan Embry and decided at that moment, someday, I would travel to Africa. And I would see elephants.

This surpassed any expectations I might have had.

There were a number of babies in the herd, which was a real treat, and they did not seem to mind our presence at all. I will be sure to send out a link to a shutterfly album as soon as it exists as I cannot post all the pictures here.

A love hate relationship

Below is a photo essay of my love/hate relationship with Malawi...there is a lot more love.

LOVE

The reason I am here: to help in some very small and removed way to improve schooling.This picture was taken at Chichiri Primary School in Blantyre

HATE

The reason I am here: an overburded education system of whichovercrowded classrooms are just a small part of the problem. Chichiri is one of the better schools yet I saw so many classes where there were over 100 students, many of whom sit on the floor.

LOVE
Finding unexpected things around every corner- This is St. Michael of All Saints

HATE
Spiders

LOVE
The fantastic attitutudes: teachers teaching under any and all conditions

HATE
SPIDERS!

LOVE

Amazing volunteers. Kerry (left) at UK citizen and recently married to a Zambian, took a 50,000 pound (yes that is double in dollars) pay cut to go work for a Zambian NGO trying to put computers in secondary schools across Africa. Moira (center) a 60 year old woman from Scotland, thought she should do something productive and generous (which for me means cleaning out my closet and going to Goodwill) so she decided she would come to Malawi and volunteer at an orphanage in a rural area of Blantyre for two months. Both women befriended me my first night in Blantyre and are reminders of the amazing people you meet in unexpected places.

HATE
SPIDERS EVERYWHERE! I am not kidding, these guys scare me to death.

LOVE
Beautiful sunsets over my city (if only on a very temporary basis)

What smell is Africa?

So CNN international was constantly on at the last place I stayed. One night they had a feature on Africa and were asking famous Africans what "smell is 'Africa'" (did you know Colin Firth aka Mr. Darcy was born in Nigeria?).

A lot of people said the smell of leaves after the rain. Some said sweat. So I am asking you. You Africa travelers from the West, North, East, and South [and I can think of at least one person reading this who has lived or traveled in each area - more for West of course ;)]. I am asking you - "What smell is 'Africa' for you?"

I haven't been here through a rainy season - so for me, it is smoke. I smell smoke everywhere and everyday. Most Malawians use small fires to cook their meals. Whether it is the wood sticks lighting the street food stalks in the markets, the charcoal heating the water at the lodge, or the leaves and grass that are burning along the roads and in the hills, smoke for me is Africa.

Death by mini-bus

So I am feeling rested now. I must admit, my last post was written after my twenty plus meetings in one week (not exaggerating) skipping lunches because I literally was running from meeting to meeting from 8-5, and staying up into the night writing my IP. I was pretty beat and was in need of a little break.

My new friend Jennifer has given that to me.

Jennifer is an English teacher in Zomba, which used to be the capitol of Malawi and is about one hour north of Blantyre. I met her through my last internship as she is part of a fellowship program that we administered in my office. Jennifer is fabulous. She has been so welcoming to me. She came down to Blantyre to pick me up (under horrible circumstances surrounding the death of her kitty - check it out on www.malawinme.blogspot.com)and brought me back to her home for the next few days where I will enjoy some real quiet, the beautiful mountains, greenery, and colonial buildings of Zomba, and fantastic home cooked meals.

More than anything, I appreciate not having to ride a mini-bus the "hour" here to Zomba. Because it is never ever an hour.

I know this because this past Sunday, Mairi and I took a day trip to Mt. Mulanje, the tallest mountain in this region and the heart of tea country in Malawi. And we got there by mini-bus.

I wish that I had the time to climb Mt. Mulanje, but that will have to wait for another trip. And possibly knee replacement surgery.

So we thought that a little trip out and lunch at the foot of the mountain would be the best possible option. The whole idea was to enjoy the scenic ride out to Mulaje through all the tea plantations, but when the big bus broke down we were left with the option of mini-bus.

It actually was a lovely (lovely for a minibus) ride out to the mountain. It was only about an hour and it was a fairly uneventful drive through some of the most beautiful country I have seen here. And that is saying something.

The way back is a whole other story. I had wanted to take pictures of the mountain from a distance and planned to snap them on our way back, but the speed simply would not allow for any picture taking. Plus I was a little preoccupied hoping that I wouldn't die or be injured in some painful way.

This guy was getting his money's worth out of all us passengers. When I say "all us" I mean a LOT of people. Now I expect mini-buses to be crowded. Packed even. Not just with people, but with bags, chickens, produce, and on this trip, even a bag of fragrant dried fish (ew). I expect mini-buses to be hot (that is why you sit near the back and by a window. I even expect them to be unpleasant. But somehow I did not expect the perpetual stopping and loading and unloading of people the WHOLE WAY.

I guess everyone on the way out wanted to get to Mulanje, but on the way back, people wanted to get on and off every few minutes. And the driver was all too eager to oblige and collect the fares.

Plus, I learned that people get to shop on their way places. You do not get on and just go. You stop at the little village markets the whole way - not to pick up people, but because the passengers want tomatoes at this market, and potatoes at the next, and then sweets at the one after that. Each market has its specialty. I was not aware of this phenomenon. I am all too aware of it now.

We would drive at breakneck speed for a few minutes and then he would jam on the breaks. Hard. And then we would linger. People wouldn't get out, but they would send market kids to go buy things for them. And we would sit there. And sit there. And sit there.

And the sun would just pour down on top of the mini-bus and we would bake, bake, bake.

I almost looked forward to when we would get going again just to feel the breeze. Until I realized how fast we were going and how we almost ran over that whole group of kids.

I started to laugh at myself. And this is why......

I brought a whole pharmacy with me: eyedrops, gas-x, enough Imodium for a small country, cipro, Sudafed, bite cream, suncream, insect repellant, cough drops, Advil, diflucan, malaria pills, oral rehydration salts, you name it...I brought it. And haven't needed or used more than 1% of it (yet that is, please don't let this hex me). It all seems so silly to me now that I am here.

What I do is this: I do boil my water, I do buy bottled water. I even used my little uv-light purifier once. I wash my hands. I take my malaria pills and sleep with a bed net. I will put on suncream if I am really going to be outside in the middle of the day for a long time and I put bug cream on my feet when I am going to be walking through grass (I started this after getting a number of bites my first day in Blantyre). But that's it. Really, sometimes I even forget to pay attention. Ask my friends how I panicked after forgetting not to drink beverages with ice. I just forgot.

So I was laughing at myself in the mini-bus because after all the initial precautions, and even considering the reduced amount of things I do now that I am here, I just did the most dangerous thing ever. I got on a minibus for a long drive.

In the end, it really wasn't so bad. In fact, looking back, it actually was fun. An experience to be had. I normally just take them around town, but this was quite a trip and it was worth it because it's the only way to get from here to there unless you are going to the major cities and can take a coachline bus.

So it was fun, and I wouldn't change it. I am sure I will have to do it again.

But I was happy to get into Jennifer's air conditioned Toyota for the trip to Zomba.

Just plain tired

I am behind again on the blog...but for good reason this time. I have been diligently plugging away at my thesis, integrative project, whatever. I am happy to report that I AM DONE. Oh yes, I am through. It has been sent, it has been approved, and the final form that will give me my Master's is awaiting a last signature. Hurray! I am thrilled. Over the moon. Finally I can enjoy Malawi a bit (well, I actually did go to the paper making factory and I took a day trip before I finished...but I was SO close that I told myself it was okay).

But the paper, and finishing up my data collection here in Blantyre has left me feeling really drained.

Or is it something else?

I have hesitated to write about this because I feel like a month is too short a time to already be tired by this, but I would say, one percent of the time it does drain me. I guess the best way to describe it is the feeling of constantly being on display.

Every morning, I get dressed, I eat breakfast, and I put on my invisible armor. I am stared at, I am laughed at (mostly by little kids and not in a mean spirited way), I am borderline harassed by men, street vendors, and beggars. I am overcharged everywhere because I am a mzungo (white person).

Ninety-nine percent of the time just smiling, laughing, or being firm solves whatever form of attention I am receiving, but the other one percent of the time I wish I could just disappear.

The kids are cute. I love the "how are you? "how are you" "I am fine how are you?" I LOVE IT. But the constant attention from everyone has been a little unexpected. I guess I didn't expect to stand out so much. Maybe coming from New York where no one bats an eye at different people, languages, and forms of dress is why I am a little surprised. I am not sure. And I feel awful that I sometimes I tire of it.

As good as it gets

I could not have asked for a better week unless someone appeared from the Ministry if Education and produced every last statistic I am looking for in the report format I am using. It has been busy, draining, and fantastic.

A quick explanation…. I am looking for every imaginable statistic, cost, number relating to pre-primary, primary, secondary, higher, non-formal, literacy….basically anything that is related to education at all. I have had people laugh when I convey all the information I am looking for. But this week has been as good as it gets.

Of course, I have to go to two other cities, and much of what I have received here is referrals elsewhere. But I have gotten some pretty crucial information and I am amazed at how easily people will give it and spend hours, if necessary, talking with me.

For example, today, I sat in an office (with a tied-up rooster at my feet) while a staff member listed teacher salaries for all primary and secondary levels. But it addition to that I was given the scale for each step in the salary ladder. I was given the salary of every staff member working in the schools and in education offices. If that wasn’t enough, he walked me down the hall where another staff member gave me three spreadsheets telling me how many teachers and staff members at each grade were in each school. Unbelievable! I am so impressed with how well kept some of this information is.

Yesterday was even better. I discovered the holy grail of education statistics in Malawi. It turns out the Academy of Educational Development, the U.S. Agency for International Development, and the World Bank have poured a lot of information into building a database for the country of Malawi so they can track all facets of education. The Ministry of Statistics has in turn poured the statistics into the database. There are a variety of pre-built queries I can run to get information on Blantyre overall (ranging from number of dropouts, to enrollment, to orphans in school). But I lucked out, the “man” from the Ministry happened to be in the office that afternoon and he built reports for me on a school by school basis for my city.

You want number and type of textbook per grade per school? Here you go.

You want number of classrooms, latrines, and other facilities per school? Here that is too.

The list goes on and on. He created a variety of reports for me and I am visiting him in the capitol when I return for many more. Many, many more. I know there may only be a handful of you with wide eyes right now, so I will say this: THIS IS A HUGE DEAL. A MAJOR FIND!

Oh, and he let me put the whole database of preconfigured reports on my flash drive. So I can get information at my leisure.

All of this helps me feel better about the lack of a complete IP (my “thesis”). It’s getting there….slowly.

It's grasshopper season

These guys are popping up here and there everyday. They are sold all over town at the side of the road and I understand that are supposed to be fried and eaten as a snack. Hmmmm.

Flora and Fauna of Kabula

I love the lodge where I am staying. It is beautiful, the volunteers in residence are friendly, and the family who runs it is very nice. I thought I would just include a post of some of the gorgeous flowers, and a few of the critters, that surround me on a daily basis.

A Flame Tree

These are the blossoms on a flame tree - my favorite!

There is a whole family of mangy dogs that live here. There is a particular puppy that is so cute (not pictured)... I wish he did not have fleas! There are hosts of birds and lizards with cobalt blue tails. I have not successfully caught any of them on camera yet but will keep trying.

Chief's Chair

It was such a good idea. Funny how those ideas just never seem to work out the way you thought that they might.

I have wanted a “chief’s chair” ever since I arrived in Malawi. They are beautiful carven chairs that come in two pieces: the seat and the back. The seat is very basic but it is really in the shape of a paddle. The long arm of the paddle is then arranged through the slot at the base of the back piece and it is the main leg of this three legged chair. Hard to explain, I am sorry.

They are carved out of various types of Malawian hardwoods and used to depict village scenes but now mostly have animal carvings to please us tourists (I would have loved a village scene personally). The “environmentalist” in me shuddered a bit when I thought of the beautiful tree used for my chair…but I wanted that chair. In fact, I wanted two to be more precise.

So out Moira and I went last week in search of chairs. Neither one of us likes to bargain for things at all, nor are we very good at it. But I have a new strategy. I know what I want to buy while I am here, but since I have time, I will practice my bargaining on things I eventually want, but do not need to buy that day. Well the plan totally backfired on me because we got an amazing price on our first try. Maybe because we bought three?

I have seen them sold online in U.S. galleries $225 and ours were about $25 a piece and far prettier. Now no one here would ever pay $225, but still, I was quite pleased with our arrangement since he was initially asking more like $40. Nothing that I am sure that others haven’t arranged before, but this was my first real bargain. And while it was great deal, the ensuing experience is more that I bargained for!

I was planning on buying these chairs back in Lilongwe because how on earth was I going to get them around as I make my way back there?

That was mistake number one.

But, happily (and unhappily of course), Moira is leaving on Sunday and has a ride to Lilongwe. She is staying at the same place I will be at in a few weeks and they have agreed to hold them for me.

We decided that we are taking a change with the airlines and will try to bribes to get them on as our second pieces of luggage. I am fairly confident this will work. I am actually fairly confident they will be permissible if they are packaged right without a bribe. I believe this because the price to ship them is not feasible unless I am happy crossing my fingers for the next three months as they are sent to me via ground mail. So this will work. It will work if they are packaged nicely and I smile brightly at the airline attendant.

Which brings us to the second problem: packing them right. I was able to find, miracles of miracles, a place where I could get bubble wrap and tape, and I hunted today in the stores for boxes. I found two boxes, one for each of us, and they were almost the right size. Almost.

It’s a mess. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to pack them. Soooooo, luckily I was gchating with a most savvy, most fantastic, most well traveled friend who had a simple solution: pay someone else to do it for me.

So, here I sit waiting for that solution to pan out. I have offered to say behind while the others go out to celebrate Moira’s last night so our precious chairs can be packed tightly for the journey ahead.

I am including pictures of Moira’s chair. I, of course, wrapped mine up before it occurred to me to take a picture. I have one that is like hers, and another that is different, but you will get the general idea. They are so beautiful in person. Maybe if I ever have a semi-permanent residence some day, I will place them on the porch as a reminder of lovely Malawi.

No more nomads!

So this is a brief rant and totally off the subject of Malawi. Nomadic education is the subject of my "Integrative Project" for my M.A. and has become the bane of my existence. I certainly am not gleaning any inspiration from Malawi, which happens to be one of the more densely populated countries in the region.

Can I just have my M.A., haven't we done enough?!?!?

So here I sit on weekend writing. Writing about nomads. Writing about nomadic girls. It's fantastic.

After about a month of not working on this paper, I am not exactly sure what I still need to write. I mean, I know what I still need to write, but I don't know how to say it. My train of thought has been seriously stalled.

My only consolation is that my friends here at the lodge are going to take me to the paper making factory this week when I finish so we can see how they make elephant dung into paper.

Is that a...? Was that a....? What is that?

So I began a previous post with the statement: Was that a rooster? and that has become a common way for me to begin my thoughts here.

Is that an avocado tree?
Yes..now get a stick and let's make guacamole tonight!

Hey look, a snake!
Watch out, it could be a black mamba. The group seems divided on the species of snake.
I have now spent some time online and cannot either confirm or deny that it was or was not a baby black mamba. I am very cautious when I walk around in the grass.

Did that lizard's tail just turn blue?
Yes, they turn blue in the sunlight. My uncle would love it here!

What bit me last night?
Was it a mosquito, a spider (shudder), an ant, or perhaps something else entirely.

What exactly is in DEET?
I love reading the warning label on the insect repellent. "Keep away from plastics and synthetic fabric" But spread that stuff on your skin, no problem!

Will I finish my thesis?
No answer.

What is that noise?
The tin roof here at the lodge crackles. It sounds like it is raining, but it's not. So what is that sound? Is it the heat? Any idea?

What are we having for dinner tonight?
Cauli and cheese.
Eating and what we are going to eat seems to be a favorite topic.

Given I am the only American here surrounded by mostly volunteers from the UK, I am slowly being introduced to the culinary delights of that country. There are a wide variety of beans sold in the People's supermarket, along with a range of Cadbury milk chocolates. I am told that these beans are excellent on toast but I am yet to be that adventurous. There is no dark chocolate in sight. I am being weaned from my addiction to Starbucks and dessert...not really in the mood for milk chocolate any day of the week. Mostly likely I get my sugar fix from the disastrous amount likely in those pineapple Fanta's. I am trying to think of an America dish to prepare but am very limited by the basic amenities in our kitchen. Is macaroni and cheese American?

So these are just some of my musings. I don't think I could really include my impressions and questions about the culture and people here in such glib sentences so that will have to be the subject of another discussion.

Happy Weekend!

A New Approach

I am having a hard time believing that it has only been a week since I arrived in Blantyre. I can vaguely recall my activities from earlier in the week...but I have settled into such a routine here that it feels as though it has been so much longer.

What is that routine you may ask? So far, lots of waiting.

I wasn't too expectant for things to get off to a roaring start, and I was pleased at my ability to schedule a few meetings for the following week, but after my day out in the rural areas with Freshwater Project (the subject of an upcoming post) I was starting to get antsy.

I hadn't had any luck getting in touch with my contact, and the sense of accomplishment I felt on Tuesday in scheduling 2 meetings had quickly faded.

I need some data, and I need that data fast.

So I thought I might take a new approach - head down to the City Assembly and wait there instead.

That is exactly what I did yesterday and I actually met my contact and his colleague, and hopefully I will have a busy week next week because of it.

I decided that some face to face interaction might be best so I camped out in the lobby of the City Assembly and waited to speak with someone. It was somewhat amusing for me to see the reaction of people when I responded to "he's not here" with "that's fine, I'll wait." And finally, I spoke with someone!

I always leave these meetings feeling very positive. So let's hope that its not just positivity followed by more waiting.

Title change

So I have seen "Tiwonana" (Chichewa for "see ya later") spelled two different ways. But I think that this new way is the right way...opps.

My mom is great

This is just a side note. (and Dad, you are great too!)

My mom just called and told me she met Obama at a fundraiser this weekend. She shook his hand and told him “I volunteered for John F. Kennedy when I was in the fifth grade and I hope you are my next president.” He said “Thank you Rebecca” as he glanced at her name tag. I think this is fantastic, no matter who you support.

Perhaps it's time to get down to it?

So my thesis is due in about 1.5 weeks…and I really should get going on this assessment….but I haven’t heard from my contact here in Blantyre and what will one more day of adjustment hurt? So that is how I found myself at Jungle Pepper Pizza at 11am this morning with Mairi, another Scottish volunteer who just joined us last night.

I am really impressed by Mairi. It’s her gap year (well second gap year) before she starts university and she has come back to Malawi where she worked for 8 months last year in an orphanage. She wants to learn the local language so she can come back and work once she is a midwife. She is not even twenty- this girl is impressive!

She wasn’t too far from Blantyre when she was here last year, so she knows all the places to eat which is how we ended up getting pizza reminiscent of the kind you used to have in elementary school cafeterias (all doughy and delicious) before noon on a Monday. I, of course, order a pineapple Fanta as well.

We decided to walk through the local market since she wanted some fresh veggies and I was in search of limes, lemons, and the local tangerine. We were successful on all counts (plus some fabric) but realized that our delay at the pizza meant we were wandering around at the height of the midday heat, not good at all. I am grateful for my sunblock and Ethiopian linen shawl.

I am continually amazed by how hot the sun is here, and how bright the stars are (especially when the power is out). I curse my blue eyes which are basically paralyzed by the sun. All of the volunteers at the lodge have a slight pinkish ting to their coloring and I think it may only be a matter of time even with my 45 level protection.

It was a nice way to spend that day, but I am starting to feel antsy. I haven’t heard a thing from either of my contacts so I think that tomorrow I really must start calling people out of the blue, whether I have an introduction from my local counterpart or not!

Of course, I have just found another reason to delay. Charles is picking me up tomorrow morning to tour some of the schools where the Freshwater Project (see earlier post "Water First") is working and to discuss how I might incorporate some of his work into my research!

My love affair with roosters and pineapple Fanta begins!

Was that a rooster? Hmmmm. Yes, that is defiantly a rooster.

I have always wanted to be a morning person. Whenever I am up in what I call the wee hours, it is always so peaceful, so pretty. I want to be one of those people who wakes with the sun and leisurely enjoys a morning cup of coffee. This is sooooooo not me. Leisurely nothing in the morning, I am most certainly late for something. Well, I think I may have found the place that can change this. The sun pours into my room in the morning (unlike that cave of an apartment in NYC with no direct light…oh how I loved it though!) and if that wasn’t enough, the rooster and the 500 plus species of birds here in Malawi most certainly are going to see to it that I am awake…early. Maybe I will get a rooster when I get back to the States.

So I am up and ready to start my day, I am feeling worlds better and finally settled. I walked down to the People’s grocery store with Carrie and Moira. And that’s where I bought it. Pineapple Fanta. I don’t usually drink sweet soda at home. Okay, maybe I binge on Coke Zero or Diet Doctor Pepper when I am in paper writing mode, but soda is not a daily ritual for me. It will be for the next 6 weeks. It’s like crack, I love it, I already crave it. Soda in a glass bottle hurray! Oh and you bet I am saving my empties, I want that 30 kwacha off my next fix.

Anyway, we got our groceries, Fanta and all, I bargained for some bananas on the way home and then we sat on the porch and enjoyed our various bubbly and cool delights.

That night Carrie made us sweet potatoes with some kind of greens that tasted like collard greens or maybe kale. Shark Tale was on TV and I mentioned that I had some DVDs as well – some of my own choosing and some a gift from my boyfriend hoping to expand my horizons to include such classics as “Good Fellas” and “Serpico.” Moira pointed out that with the power outages, we might never make it through a movie on my computer.

“But I have a second battery we can use if the first one is drained” I replied.

She called me an angel and asked were I have been all these months (she has been here 7.5 weeks). Suddenly I feel like I have rosewater!

Bus to Blantyre

I don’t have much to say about this- no chickens or other wildlife to report. I decided against the 7 hour country bus considering my 42 pound backpack and opted for the expensive ($18) coachline bus that takes just 3 hours. It left at 7:30am on the nose and was a completely pleasant ride. The movie was “Clear and Present Danger” with Harrison Ford. The whole experience of riding through the Malawian countryside with Jack Ryan fighting the Cali Cartel in the background was a little odd…

Room with a view

I arrived in Blantyre hungry and exhausted. I had left before getting breakfast and the jet lag had finally caught up with me. If you know me, let’s just say my “5 minute warning” (my families little saying about how much time you have to someone etc. before I turn into a cranky, nasty, mess – this is not just for me, this is a family wide phenomena), well, let’s just say that I had left that warning behind, I was a woman on the edge. And it didn’t take much to push me right off. My cab driver had that dubious pleasure when he flatly told me that I had picked and “incredibly dangerous area” to stay in and that I would never be able to leave the compound without a taxi. That did it. I had the presence of mind to make it to my room before I burst into tears. Calling taxis everyday? Confined to my room? This was really not what I had in mind.

I composed myself a little to call the one contact I had in town, the director of an NGO focused on providing clean water access across Malawi. I was put in contact with him out of shear luck. My last week in DC I saw a fantastic film called “Water First” about the lack of clean water across Malawi and the major problem this poses in areas of health, gender, education and so on. I was a fantastic film and the director promptly emailed the head of the NGO hear. He had given me his phone number and was the only person I could think to ask for help. I really was just calling him for his opinion about what I should do, but he came straight over so we could talk about the situation.

I admit, I ended up feeling pretty foolish within a matter of minutes (not to mention the next day, and the day after that). Charles assured me that this was a completely safe place, and while I should not go out at night, this was the best place for me. We also talked a little bit about how I could incorporate his organizations work into my assessment. He left and I felt much better.

I looked around and realized that this actually might be the best view I have ever had from a room that I call my own. It is like paradise. I can hear the music from the church down the road while I read on the veranda and watch lizards scurry here and there…what on earth was had I been crying about?

view from my room

my room- the second door (I took the previous photo where I am standing in this picture)

view from the porch of the main lodge one level up from my room

The lock on my door didn’t quiet work though, so I was give the room right next to it. However, I slyly took the power strip, the extra blanket and towel, the hangers, and oh yeah, the mattress before I switched rooms. What? I needed those three hangers to pair with my three, and the mattress was so much better in the first room. Luckily the place was deserted so no one witnessed my little switcheroo. I finally unpacked my bags, wrestled with my mosquito net (with Domingo and Lucy hair –DC felines- still clinging to it), and went in search of food.

Of course, the power was out. It was at this point that I met Carrie and Moira who graciously gave me some bread and butter and an apple and welcomed me to the place.

Kabula Lodge where I am staying is basically home to extended stay volunteers here in Blantyre. Most of the people at the lodge are British, Dutch, or German medical students on rotation at the hospital, but Carrie (from the UK but now living in Zambia) is working on an education project and Moira (Scottish) is based at an orphanage. They both were so warm and kind to me and offered to show me around the city the next day. We agree that the cab driver was ludicrous and probably just wanted me to call him every day for a cab. People are still singing in the church went I turn in for the evening.

Passing the days in Lilongwe

I seem to have a knack for writing these updates during power outages…not that I really need to time it just so, but still.

So my first few days in Malawi went really well. Not a single complaint about the place I was staying, I could not have asked for a more centrally located "hotel". It seems like a fairly sleepy little capitol to be honest. Lilongwe is spread out over a huge number of “areas” split across the old city and the new city. For example, my hotel was in zone one in the old city- the oldest spot in the whole place…UNDP is all the way out in zone 47 of the new city (I guess that makes it the 47^th oldest place?). Regardless, my first day went pretty smoothly. I even managed a stop at the U.S. Embassy to register...a very weird experience.

John, my counterpart in Lilongwe picked me up on his way to work and we went out to UNDP together. I cannot imagine how overwhelmed he is with projects and do not know how he finds time to arrange meetings for all of the Millennium Cities researchers coming though. John actually works for UN-Habitat so education isn’t even his area of specialty, but he knew just the people he thought I should speak with in Lilongwe.

My first meeting was with the executive director of ACEM, otherwise known as the Association of Christian Educators in Malawi. You see, there are three different groups working on the provision of education here in Malawi: the government, the private schools, and the church schools. The various churches all over Malawi actually ran most of the schools up until the 1960s when the government took over, but 60% of primary schools are still owned by churches, even if they are run by the government. ACEM consolidates all the different denominations and facilitates the provision of education in religiously affiliated schools. Clearly this is an important connection for my research. Everything went very well and I was given a few contacts in Blantyre to speak with about various reports and such for the assessment. All in all, a pretty decent first day.

I decided that I might venture out that evening to a little place around the corner for some dinner. Don Brioni’s is clearly geared toward the expat and tourist crowd, but I didn’t care. I can’t trek too far a field at night and didn’t feel like paying for a taxi. “Don Brioni” a.k.a. Brian is a British guy who has been running the joint for 20 years. His wife, a Malawian, helps him with the business looks to be about 30-40 years younger than him. Still, they are very pleasant and direct me to a seat at the bar. I had brought my copy of Pride and Prejudice loaned to me by a close friend, but actually never cracked it because as it turns out, I was sitting next to, you guessed it, a returned Peace Corps volunteer. You guys are everywhere!!!

RPCV and I sat and chatted for quite some time. It turned out he had been in the Philippines years ago when the Peace Corps were doing “experimental sites.” He had to walk 7 hours into the jungle from the end of the last road to get to his village. He loved it and stayed 5 years. He certainly has his opinions about the head of the organization I am representing here, and I can’t say that I disagree with any of his points. I do wonder if there really is a “cure” for global poverty and how in the world one solution can be universal. I am also extremely skeptical of any effort that does not focus on empowerment of communities and relies mainly on foreign investment. But what the heck do I know!?

My second day in Lilongwe I had mostly to myself. My first meeting of the day wasn’t until 4pm (who schedules meetings at 4pm on a Friday?)-but it was a pretty big one with the Director of Education and Planning at the Ministry of Education. I had plenty of things to occupy me: cramping all my stuff back into my bag, purchasing additional minutes for my cell phone, and of course, a visit to the ATM to pay my hotel bill.

So here’s the thing, the currency in Malawi is the kwacha and it is a 1:140 ratio. The largest denomination of currency available is 500 kwacha which is about $3.50. So imagine the stack of bills that is spit out when I take out 40,0000 kwacha to cover the hotel for the week, the bus ride, food, taxis, cell phone and so on. Let’s just say it’s a pretty thick stack. I can see the giant target forming on my back as I stand at the ATM to withdraw twice since the maximum allowed is 20,000 at a time. I return directly the hotel to pay my bill, purchase wireless time, purchase cell phone time, and get my bus ticket (essentially to unload as much as I can ASAP). Thank goodness that my place in Blantyre is going to very reasonable so I can avoid these trips as often as possible.

My meeting that afternoon was fantastic! The Director and his colleague were so supportive, so helpful; it was totally unexpected and a wonderful way to end the week. I was not only given their blessing and permission to continue on, but they gave me a whole slew of data and basically indicated that I really should come back to Lilongwe to meet with them again and visit other ministries. So it looks like I will be back soon.

Short update: Made it to Malawi!

Well, I am here at last. From the minute we touched down in Lilongwe, I started to feel that rather large knot in my stomach unclench just a little. This place is much more my speed than the busy city of Addis.

The drive from the airport back to Lilongwe really felt like a tropical vacation. Everything is so lush and green. Malawi is one of the most densely populated countries around, but it sure didn't feel like it today. And my gosh, the friendliness is amazing! I already have high speed internet and a cell phone and it's only been three hours.

I guess instead of holing up with my technology, I should be out seeing the city...but I am going to save that for tomorrow as it is getting to be dusk about now and I think I have had all the adventure I can take for at least the next 12 hours.

Apparently there had been a variety of meetings scheduled for me yesterday and today (which I was unaware of until Monday evening I might add) which hopefully will be rescheduled for later this week. I am a little worried that I might already have dug a hole for myself by disrespecting those individuals I was going to meet with, but I guess you shouldn't worry about what you cannot change.

I have a really good feeling about Malawi; let's hope it pans out!

Adventures in Addis

Day 1: I knew as soon as I saw my rescheduled flight time when I arrived at Dulles that I was in trouble. With only an hour to make my connection in Addis Ababa, which was a bad idea to begin with (not mine I will add), there was just no way that it was going to happen. Sure enough, I have been stuck in Addis for the past two days. Stuck is actually the wrong word…happily delayed is more how I feel now. There were no flights for two days so I guess it’s time to enjoy Addis.

Of course, upon arrival at the hotel that Ethiopian Airlines arranged for me and sitting down for a few minutes at the computer, I won’t deny that I quietly shed a few tears as I sat staring at my gmail. But I decided that if this was really going to get me down, then I was in trouble for the next two months. True, I did feel totally helpless, but I have felt that way before when I have traveled and it passes quickly.

My two college roommates have always chided me for my tendency to be so trusting of strangers. “Katie, you tell people too much!” I think that this fault is turning into a strength in my new living context.

I met the New York Businessman as he worked the aisles on our flight. I overheard him talking to someone while I was stretching my legs. He ran factories in China for ten years making bags—the kind that comes free with your makeup purchase and so on. Anyway, he is quite successful, as my googling told me. He is in the process of starting up similar factories in Addis and has been running a school for six years for girls (mostly) and boys who have been begging on the street. He gave me his card and told me that I should give him a call if ended up in Addis.

I made the snap decision that I would call the New York Businessman. Ok…I did google him first and consulted two well traveled friends and someone with my best interests at heart. The three concluded that I was not crazy for calling him and so that is how I have become ensconced at the “Woodstock Nation Embassy and Residence."

Okay, first we went by his school so I could meet all of his kids and then onto a prospective site for the expanding NGO and school, which will eventually have 400 students. It felt a little strange just putting all my trust in a total stranger, but oddly, very okay. The New York Businessman has named his very nice home, “Woodstock Nation” in fondness for his youth when he was a self-described hippie. He and his three housemates (other New Yorkers who are good friends and are on short term contracts here at the factory) have made me feel more than at home.

I was led to the guesthouse which I would say is about the size of my apartment in NYC, sans porch. The bathroom alone was bigger than my kitchen. Ah the expat life, now I have a better idea of what that means. After a dinner of lasagna followed by York peppermint patties and a healthy dose of BBC I wandered off to bed. Of course, there was something large scampering or scurrying across my roof more than a few times. But after over twenty four hours without sleep... I was not fazed.

Day 2: I woke after about 12 hours to a beautiful sunny day. The NY Businessman and his housemates were departing for the factory and I had the day to myself. A young woman who lives and cooks at "the compound", Fana, offered to take me around if I wanted to see a bit of Addis. And so we were off. I decided to jump right in, so we headed out to the largest open air market in Africa. To get there we took a variety of minibus taxis, which were the highlight of my day by far. We really had to cover a lot of Addis on our way to the market, and I was reminded of some of my travels in India and Mexico as we zoomed around. I am always struck by the presidential palace surrounded by shanty towns.

Addis, from what I can tell, is a nice and friendly city that is growing by the day. There are groves of trees in the hills surrounding Addis, but they are quickly being cleared. Still, as I wandered around this afternoon in the rain and smelled what seemed like eucalyptus I could have imagined myself in California.

We left the market after realizing there was going to be no bargaining to be had with the foreigner in tow and went to a smaller market passing sites along the way. Ethiopia is the only country that still runs on the Julian calendar so Easter is just around the corner and many of the orthodox churches have preparations underway. 2007 was the first year of the new millennium and remnants of the celebrations are all over the city.

Fana was wonderful to me, pointing out everything we passed and making the whole day pleasant. She thought I should get a traditional scarf and we were able to find a great deal at the local market. Then it was back to Woodstock Nation just in time to avoid the first thunderstorm of the season. The power went out as I am writing and the housemates looked around and said “TIA Baby, TIA” (This Is Africa). Whatever it is, I like it, and am excited to head to Malawi tomorrow!

The view from my room at the ET Airlines Hotel

The view from my room at "Woodstock Nation"

Question to the audience: do I use real names? I am always torn about this. I see some people who blog give people nicknames...is this a good idea?

Where did Mary Poppins get that bag?

So I realize that I am writing things a bit in reverse….I now see that you really have to keep up with these blogs or you fall amazingly behind! But I have to dedicate a few words to the packing experience.

I am my grandmother’s granddaughter (my mother’s mother) without a doubt. Now, maybe she would dispute this…but my guess is a lot of my family would know what I am talking about. We are both outspoken, adventurous, determined, a little controlling, absolutely type A, wonderful women. I did not however, get my grandmother’s ability to pack lightly. So sad considering my addiction to moving and travel.

I used to watch my grandmother pack for two week trips in a carry-on. Her travel clothes were always black and white so everything matched. She had the most amazing travel case for all her make-up…she had everything you could dream of needing and more. I remember my cousin and I were on a night train in Italy with her when we were 15 and she pulled out this little spray of rosewater to freshen our dry faces. Rosewater?! Who carries rosewater? I have always tried to emulate her by having band-aids, safety-pin, a lint roller, etc. with me at all times. I want to be the one can pull what anyone might be looking from her bag and hand it over to the surprised recipient. I do pretty well, but unlike my grandmother, it usually looks like I have everything but the kitchen sink with me.

You would have thought that considering I have changed addresses 10 times in 10 years (three of those being cross country moves) I would have learned to reduce. No. I now have two households worth of stuff. One sitting nicely packed in my mother’s garage, the other integrated into a lovely friend’s new digs in Manhattan.

I hate brown boxes. My cat hates them too. Boxes and suitcases. He knows what packing means – and it is never good in his opinion. I think of myself as organized and neat, not a pack rat at all, so where does all the stuff come from? I knew I was in trouble when I actually developed the talent to predict if my suitcase was over 50 lbs. I am good…frequently it would weigh in at 48 or 49, sometimes even 49.5. I can feel my grandmother shudder from here.

I was determined to pack light for this trip. I needed to be able to carry everything on my back. Well, it all will be going on my back. All 42 lbs. of it.