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.