First and Foremost

As much as I enjoy spontaneity, I also enjoy symmetry. It is fitting that since I first posted from Canada, my last post should also be from Canada.

I could write many pages of heavy things - thoughts about mission theology, philosophy, more observations, feelings...oodles of things. But as I was reflecting on how this experience has changed me, I wrote down 3 full pages of "firsts" that happened in these 3 months. I will not share them all, but I want to share, for my last post, highlights from the list of "firsts".

In Malawi was the first time I ever...

...rode in the back of a pick-up truck
...rode on a bicycle taxi
...received a marriage proposal
...turned down a marriage proposal
...ate liver stew, papaya, passion fruit, sugar cane, and pumpkin leaves
...partially learned an African language
...worked with a language interpreter
...hired someone
...had a bath in a bucket
...broke through a lock with a knife
...designed a mixed methods study
...saw chickens running through my garden
...saw baboons running through my garden
...hiked a plateau
...played squash
...roomed with a gecko
...saw a cockroach, mongoose, and a banana tree
...assisted a bee out of a window
...played piano for the church service
...won a T-shirt
...ate rice with my hands
...used a pit latrine
...met someone afflicted with polio
...attended a 3-hour church service
...was called "Mommy" by people of all ages
...bought an original painting
...had dreams where cars had steering wheels on the right

Amongst all the things I did, however significant some were (e.g. assisting a bee out of a window, for those of you who know me well), the foremost of all of these will remain the same, no matter where I go and how long I live. The foremost of all of these is the people I have met along the way. I may lose my T-shirt, and my dreams will revert to driving on the right side of the road, but the footprints that we leave in each others' lives are everlasting. I hope too that for you who couldn't be with me in Malawi, that this blog has left a footprint - to perhaps see things differently, or to further some resolve within you that you already had.

For this blog, this is the end, but to you, I say tsalani bwino (stay well), ndikuyembekeza kuti tionaninso posachedwa (I am hoping that we will see each other again soon).

Queasy Contentment

Oh dear, oh dear, how my stomach turns and churns when it comes to goodbyes. Today is my last day at the office. Though my flight doesn't leave until 1:40 pm tomorrow, I will be heading to Blantyre at 5 am tomorrow morning since there is another team flying out, and we want to cut down on mileage costs. So I've got less than 24 hours left here in the "city" of Zomba...which technically is now a city, though perhaps the smallest one I've ever seen!

Tonight there will be a farewell for all of us leaving at the Jones' house. My Bible study group had a nice farewell dinner on Wednesday evening as well, where I had to say goodbye to Helen, since she is at a meeting in Lilongwe, the capital. Mary also gave me 8 metres of gitengi material on behalf of the whole group. She said it's for me and my Mom - that we can get something made to wear and feel close to each other. I couldn't help but joke about calling Mom up in the morning, "Hey Mom, wear your African outfit today so that we can match inter-provincially!" I am so touched by the thoughtfulness - especially the care that this group has shown in praying and asking about my parents.

Anyone here knows that something that has brought me so much joy is getting to know the watchmen and their families from the house I lived at in June. I have been so blessed from their friendship, and have been praying for them constantly. I was so surprised and touched by their effort and time to come and bid me farewell. Just yesterday, Mr. Bitton and his wife Mary walked from Chinamwali to give me a hand-written letter, hand-made doilies, and a bag full of food. Things like this make you pause and reflect on poverty, richness in spirit, and love. I told Mr. Bitton that I am so humbled because I feel that they have given me so much more than I have given them. It is sad to have to part ways.


The middle month of my stay here was very difficult emotionally for me. I felt the oh so familiar feeling that I have known for the last few years of my nodamic life of figurative homelessness. I found myself thinking that I could never feel at home here in Malawi, because no matter how much Chichewa I learned, to the locals I would always be "other". And yet, as I was sitting in church last Sunday, it occured to me that, with some more time and God's help, I could feel at home here. God has surely used these three months to strenghten me and teach me many things - about Jesus, and about myself. I feel like I know myself better for having come here. I only hope that it is a secondary benefit - to the work I came to do!

There were so many more blog posts floating around my head. Like transportation - mini-buses that aren't full when you think they are, and 99% of the cars being Japanese, and the others German. Like clashes in English - not being able to understand each other because "pants" here means underwear (so speak carefully!). Like people - those who have touched my life during my stay.

As I prepare to leave, my heart is heavy, and yet there is peace - knowing that the Lord is in this place, and that He will be with me in my place. And that as He wills, I will be re-united once again with those that have become tucked in my heart.

This is my last blog post from Malawi. To all who have read, I hope you have enjoyed your stay. To all who have prayed, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. To all who have shown their love and care here at Emmanuel International, I pray with utmost fervor that God would continue to indwell your work, so that others would continue to be blessed even more than you have blessed me. And to my parents - thank you for having enough faith to see me through this journey.

...Photo Albums...
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A Week of Lasts

Last night, as we were gathering around the table at Edrinnie's house to pray for the food, Dixie mentioned, "Ah, so every day this week is the last". Indeed, being Sunday and leaving next Saturday, he is right. The last Monday, the last Tuesday, and so on...starting with the last special Sunday dinner, with the Khoswe family, and Mary and Dixie Banda. Most appropriately, it was smoked chambo, a Malawian favourite.

It was also my last day at Zomba Baptist Church. It was a joint English-Chichewa service that went on for 3 hours. But the 3 hours were great hours. I got to see the pages of the Bible spring into action, especially during the reconciliation of two members. We also had baptisms, which I'm glad I got to share in. The whole service was so great that it kept me from feeling too sad.

It was also the last Sunday-evening volleyball, very fun as usual, with lots of laughs...usually following blunders - my blunders that is! But I'm getting better! I want to keep it up back in BC.

I also had a first today. At lunch, Mike, Chris, and I went to the botanical gardens that I've been wanting to explore for a while. There weren't that many flowers, but lots of cool trees, and interesting terrain. Got some nice pictures of the Mulunguzi river.

Oh, and another first! I baked my first cake from scratch (with the encouragement and supervision of Edrinnie). It turned out nice and moist. We brought the "maiden cake" (as Edrinnie called it) to the celebration BBQ at the Pastor's house after church on Sunday. Above is a picture of Pastor Funwayo and his wife Victory.

Tonight I'll be pulling overtime from home to try to assemble this data analysis into something coherent to present on Thursday. This data certainly isn't as straight-forward as my first project.Hopefully by then I'll have some sort of conclusion...*nervous laugh*

Weekendi Bwino!

Weekendi bwino is a Chichewa phrase that means exactly what you might guess it means - "Good weekend!" And that's exactly what I had!

Friday evening there was a get-together at Anne's house. We were supposed to watch "The Kite Runner", but our DVD was from Denmark and didn't have English subtitles for the Arabic (only Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, and French I believe...we weren't all French speakers). So we ended up watching "Wild Hogs", all the while sipping on Fanta and eating some great cake made by Rhoda with some strawberries on the side.

Saturday was Ernest Pondeponde's wedding. Ernest founded Grace Orphan Care down in Ponda Bwino in lower Zomba. It was my first, and I believe only (on this trip) Malawian wedding. Some things were the same, and some were VERY different. Of course I can't comment on everything because we almost completely missed the ceremony for a couple reasons. One, Mike misunderstood our meeting time and we were delayed in leaving, and two, our planned time was too late because the wedding was actually on time. This is apparently a miracle in Malawi, according to those who have lived here a while.

From the reception, I left to meet Samantha and Miriam to head off to Liwonde via mini-bus. After a quick step into the market, I took my first bicycle taxi. Besides the fact that I was in a dress and probably showing way too much leg, it was quite enjoyable! I enthusiastically shook the hand of my driver, Mr. Ntondo, and thanked him for a pleasant ride. Then is was groundnut stew with pumpkin leaves and nsima for dinner, accompanied by a couple great episodes of House on the laptop...and bed at 8:30. I tell you, we're party animals! (At least I had an excuse, since I hadn't really slept since 4 am because of random disturbances).

Sunday morning, we all piled into the pick-up truck and headed off to Liwonde National Park to see some game. At first the fauna was quite sparse. We saw an impala here and there, and the odd warthog, which was all very exciting, but it wasn't until we passed the hotel on the reserve that things really came alive. We found a road that went down closer to the river, where I saw my first wild hippos. Tonnes of them! (Haha, get it?) We even saw some baby ones walking into the water, which was great because they mostly just pop their eyes and tops of their heads out of the water. We also saw a couple of crocodiles swimming among them. I got lots of pictures, though not of best quality, from the back of the pick-up.

But we did not turn back there. We were in search of elephants. We had seen a herd, but they were so small you could barely tell they were elephants. We wanted to see some up close. On one of our river-side roads, we spotted some in the distance. We could go no further, so we went back to the main road in search of a path that would take us closer to where they were. We found it! There were at least twelve of them - mothers with their babies. They started coming our way so we turned around and found another road to come around back to watch them walk off. It was awesome. Then we headed off to see what is reportedly one of the biggest Baobab trees in Africa, and as we were going along Sam nearly slammed on the breaks as an elephant over 4 metres talls stepped out on the road 100 feet in front of us. At that point, we decided following the elephant wasn't a risk we were willing to take (the elephants have killed people in this park in the past), so we turned around and headed home - thoroughly satisfied, and very excited at all we had seen. Or...at least I was!

Then I hopped on a mini-bus back to Zomba, just in time to walk to volleyball, where I did NOT make a complete fool out of myself (I'm sure I don't have to explain this, but this is not a common occurrence with me and sports). When I got home, the family was home from Lilongwe, and we had a wonderful dinner of smoked Chambo (fish) with nsima, cabbage, and good conversation - all topped off by an enjoyable telephone call from Mom and Dad.

Ndithu (indeed), it was truly a "Weekendi bwino"!

Malawi Trotting

I realized just now that I had better blog now because I won't be able to for a little while. On Monday I had the wonderful opportunity to *finally* go see Lake Malawi. Helen and I both had business up in Mangochi, so she combined her Mangochi business with a trip to the Lake for Edna from EI Canada, and her friend Beth and Beth's three daughters, Jennifer, Kristina, and Jessica. So I spent Monday on the beech! Then we retired to our campsite for the night. I shared a tent with Edna. As we were chatting before sleep, I had one of those "take stock of where you are" moments and said: "Edna, we are in a tent in Africa." It was one of those moments...good thing the gigantic baboons didn't start frolicking around the campsite until morning!



Oh, and we got into a traffic jam with a herd of cattle on the way back. That was fun too! I'll *try* to post the video...not sure if there will be enough bandwidth...



Tomorrow I am going to Lilongwe, the capital city of Malawi. I have no business there, but thought I'd hop along for the ride, for the chance to visit my classmate Anna, and to see the city. I'll just bring my work along with me and find a cozy nook to grind away my survey data.

Tsalani bwino zonse! (Stay well everyone)

Of Roosters, Swiss Army Knives, and Landscapes

One thing that surprised me after living here only a couple of weeks is how quickly life becomes normal when in a foreign place. I have blogged on the subject before.

And yet there are some things that though they quickly become normal, become no less accepted!

Case in point - I was just peacefully entering survey data into my database, and the neighbour's rooster started crowing. Now this rooster is my least favourite bird on the planet. It doesn't emit a nice little "cock-a-doodle-doo" like other roosters. Even other annoying roosters pale in comparison to this rooster. Each time it crows, it sounds like it is trying to die, but can't. It is one of the most awful sounds my ears have ever beheld. What is worse, it crows at all times of day, it doesn't matter the time. So many times I have wished our neighbours would eat the darn thing already! Since the crowing was particularly loud, and I have a lot of experience with it crowing outside my bedroom window when I lived near the office, I got up from my desk to see if it was right outside the office window. Indeed, my suspicions were confirmed as I looked out and it looked innocently back. With great annoyance, I walked through the reception area of the office, declaring my great dislike for this one particular rooster to the office staff, and proceeded to chase the rooster out of the yard. A remotely similar scene would never have happened at Health Canada!

Another example - all of the doors in houses here have locks with keys inside the lock. During my first night living at Edrinnie's, I locked my bedroom door when I went to sleep since the door wasn't staying closed. The bolt would hold it shut. Then just before midnight, I got up to go to the washroom, only to find that the lock mechanism was broken. Edrinnie heard me fiddling with the lock and alerted security, thinking it was a robber. When she realized it was me, we both fiddled with the lock from either side of the door. With bars on the windows, the only way out of the room was the door. Finally, with the help of my Swiss Army I got in my Costco First Aid kit, I forced the bolt open from the inside. By the grace of God, my bladder held out, though I was already making contingency plans that involved the plastic bucket I was using as my rubbish bin.

Besides that incident, and seeing my first (and then second) full-sized cockroach, living at Edrinnie's has been wonderful. It has been a blessing to stay with this sister in Christ, and to be blessed my her hospitality. Another thing I don't think I can accept without wonder is the mesmerizing view each day as I walk back from the office to her house. You can see Zomba plateau, and then all the way down into town. When the sun is setting and the sky is a flourish of colour, it is really a sight to behold. Heather shared a comment with me once that "the poor have the best backyards". Edrinnie isn't poor, but wow, it's true, here in Malawi going up the plateau, they have the best backyards. And baboons too!

Week in Review

What a lovely week I spent in Liwonde and the villages in the Ntaja district. It was enjoyable in every sense - except for the rides on the motorbike, which were painful enough that on the first two days I could barely walk for about 5 minutes. It's just a fact, not a complaint! I'm thankful we didn't have to walk, especially with the starter acting up.

With the exception of one focus group discussion, which felt like I was pulling teeth out of the women, the focus groups were splendid. People were giving great feedback, and I think together we were able to overcome the Malawian tendency to only praise projects instead of giving honest answers to questions about problems and challenges. There was lots of laughing, and even some musical interludes in some of the ladies groups. The ladies enjoyed listening to themselves sing on my audio recorder. In sum, I think that all four of us doing data collection (Thomas and I running the focus groups, and Khumbo and Francis doing the surveys) had a really great week, and all learned different things about how we can improve upon this project. By the end of the week, I had that wonderfully exhausted-yet-satisfied feeling - a job well done deserving of a good night's sleep.

The evenings were also a pleasure, since I was staying with Samantha and Miriam on the church compound in Liwonde. Their company was so enjoyable. The food was delicious every night. And the entertainment was nostalgic (Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman). I also *finally* watched "The Notebook". It wasn't at all what I expected - it was much better.

Tuesday was Canada Day. It was also the day we spent in my favourite village, Nsolomba. I remarked to myself on the motorbike as we drove there that this was perhaps the least Canadian Canada Day I had ever had, as I was likely the only Canadian for many many miles. I couldn't help but dream of the crowded streets in Ottawa and the Parliament Hill festivities, eating smoked meat poutine at Dunn's with the Ottawa gang, wearing red and white, having a BBQ at Mat's house, seeing the Brysons and the MacGregors, and of course, the fireworks. Yes, it certainly was a different Canada Day. Yet one of those things I longed for DID happen when I received a phone call that evening from my Mom. My parents were at the MacGregors house, so I got to speak to all the Brysons and the MacGregors. It was a delightful treat to hear their voices and to "be" at the party, at least in some small way.

So I now officially have collected all my data for both projects I'm working on. The month of July will be straight data analysis here in Zomba - though my heart does hope for a chance to get back out into the villages, just to visit, before I go.

Oh, one last thing, for those who were praying - I have a place to live! I'll be living with Edrinnie, a lady from my church here in Zomba. It's a 10-minute walk from the office. Thank you so much for your prayers.

Let the Games Begin!

On Wednesday, the Water and Sanitation department headed out to Halala village (where all the meet is Halal!), to pre-test the Focus Group and Survey instruments I designed to study the differential rates of composting toilet implementation in our various target villages. It was really a splendid day. I love being out in the village, greeting the people, hearing what they have to say...really a great reminder of why I'm in this field.

Mike took some pictures of our focus group and surveys in action, which unfortunately I don't have copies of at the moment, but when I do, I'll post. For now I will include a picture of our valiant Water & Sanitation Department for your viewing pleasure.

So next week will be WatSan in full force! We're doing one village per day, with Thomas and I running the focus groups, and Khumbo and Francis doing the KAP (Knowledge, Attitude, and Practice) surveys. I'm really excited - I was nervous about doing a focus group through an interpreter before the pilot, but it's actually a bit easier than doing it in English, since I'm both the moderator and the note-taker due to a lack of personnel. The translation gives me natural pauses to scrawl my notes and think of follow-up questions.

So, all of next week I'll be staying in Liwonde so that I can debrief the focus groups each afternoon with Thomas, and then head back to the villages early in the morning. While I'm there I won't have internet access, so this will be my last post for a week or so.

On another note, I received the box of completed surveys for my first project, so I'll have LOTS of data to keep me busy after next week's WatSan data collection.

Oh yeah, and I'm moving out of my house on Sunday, and we still don't know where I'm going to live when I get back to Zomba next Friday. I'm not worrying though - I know God's plans are best, so I'm not going to stress...

That's all that's going on! Check out some new pictures on the Flickr site by clicking on the slideshow on the sidebar.

God bless and keep you all for the next week - until we meet electronically again!

A Lunch-Time Stroll

Living a 30-second walk from the office has certainly reduced my level of physical activity on weekdays, when I don't have time to do the trek into town by foot. Even though I am moving in less than a week and will no longer have this problem of living too close to work, I decided I should go walking during my lunch break. Today was my first walk, and it was lovely.

I turned right to go up the hill. I met some lovely people while walking up, and then we went our separate ways at the top. The road I took was quite narrow, but paved. It has gentle left and right bends, and hills and valleys. I admired the poinsettia bushes on one property, and the banana trees on another. And then there are the bougainvilleas. They are gigantic lush trees with dark green leaves, streams of purple flowers cascading down, and an underbelly of vines reminiscent of Tarzan.

Since it is the dry season, the sound of a grasshopper hopping in the tall grass can make you think you're being tracked by some sort of wild animal. I had a little jump at one point, but soon realized I was not be stalked by a rabid rodent or a snake.

I came around one particular bend, near Edrinnie and Dennis' house, and my eyes feasted upon a clear view of the Zomba plateau.

On the walk back, I took a wrong turn down what I thought was a road, but was actually the entrance to a long drive-way. Then I thought I could circumvent the walk back by following a footpath that I assumed went down to the road. I was finally forced to turn around when I saw the brick wall a few hundred yards in front of me blocking the way.

I spotted a foot path that led up to a giant rock formation. I climbed the rocks and then looked out into the valley where Zomba lies. It was breath-taking. A beautiful, clear sunny day - I could see for miles, all the way to Mount Mulanje, the highest peak in Malawi (3 miles high!). I came down the rock formation, and listened to the plethora of life around. There were so many different bird calls all at once. It reminded me of the jungle feature on "Planet Earth". I was lucky enough to spot a bird in a nearby bush. It was only 3 inches long and had a shining, turquoise head and a bright orange breast. Beautiful.


I think I'll go again tomorrow...this time with my camera.

Where's the Line?

Today I feel the need to write a little bit about the internal battle that has been raging since even before I came to Malawi. Malawi has only intensified it. To not write about this would be to conceal something that I deal with everyday.

The battle is about wealth, poverty, and entitlement. For years in Canada, I felt a restlessness attached to my elite status as a North American. I wanted to sponsor an African child since I was 6 years old. I yearned for simpler living. I longed to share what I had with others.

It took a while for me to feel, however, that I was financially stable enough to start sharing the wealth I have. After all, most of the past years I have just hovered above the poverty line, being a student, living on a third of the salary of a typical, established Canadian a couple years into their career.

Then fast-forward to last Saturday afternoon. I was sitting outside in the shade with Mr. and Mrs. Sumani. Mr. Sumani is a security guard that guards the property I am currently living on. Each Saturday, Mrs. Sumani walks an hour to bring him lunch. Last Saturday it was nsima (corn porridge) with no relish (usually a sauce with cabbage, or if they're lucky, some kind of meat). Nsima is plain horrible, to my opinion, without relish. It's dry, and doesn't taste like anything. It's like tofu - just takes on the flavour of whatever you eat it with. That's what makes it good.

Anyways, a batique seller came to the gate. Batiques are like paintings, but made of a special material that they dip in different dyes to produce a nice picture or landscape. They are a bit more expensive than an average painting. He was selling the batiques at a good price - 1,000 kwacha each. That's about $7.50. I bought two for gifts, put them inside the house, and then continued my nice chat with the Sumanis. A few minutes later, Mrs. Sumani asked me how much I paid. It was an honest, non-malicious question. I didn't feel I could escape answering it directly, so I told her. If I had blinked, I might have missed it - a shadow crossed her face. As fast as it came, it was gone, but it is etched in my memory. I can imagine the thought that might have accompanied it - "2,000 kwacha for decorations? That is half of a minimum-wage monthly salary." I felt like a traitor or an impostor.

This short story is only one example of how this inner battle has intensified since I got here. So many thoughts run through my mind. First is that even on my meager salary of $340/month, I live like a queen. $340/month is roughly twice the GDP of Malawi, meaning the per capita earnings of Malawians in a year. But food is not cheap here. I went to Blantyre on Wednesday with my boss and his boss who were going on EI business. Food is cheaper in Blantyre. The food prices were pretty similar to what we pay in Canada. I really have to watch my money to be pay Canadian prices with $340/month. So that begs the question: How on earth do people survive on 4,000 kwacha a month?

Then there is the running water and the electricity. Sure, one might think it's been quite an adjustment. I have to boil and filter all my drinking water. I spent 3 1/2 hours with only candlelight last night because the power was out. I can't take a shower in my house because there isn't enough hot water, so I bathe some nights in under an inch of water. There is no heat in the house. It sounds like a nightmare, but already I have acclimatised. It isn't so bad. In fact, I am so fortunate. My neighbours cannot afford to buy candles. When the sun goes down, they are confined to the darkness inside their house, with no windows to keep their body heat inside. Violet walks back and forth from the borehole with a bucket of water on her head. She has probably never even had a hot bath in her entire life - mother of 8.

For us, having running water and electricity is just...normal. But as I have adjusted to life here, I am realizing that for two thirds of the world's population, it's not. That's the majority.

I once heard a sermon about giving. The Bible tells us that when we give, we should give generously. The pastor had two glasses of water with him on stage. One was enormous, like a stein of beer. The other one was a shot glass. He poured out twice the volume of the shot glass of water from the large glass. Then he poured 80% from the shot glass. Even though the volume from the shot glass was so small, he explained, it was the latter, rather than the former, which was a display of generosity. That image has stay in my mind for many years. I have tried to live by it ever since. We should not simply give out of our excess. True generosity means foregoing something yourself. It means sacrifice. And not to the point of ill-health - we aren't meant to waste away ourselves. But it's about equality - not eating meat twice a day when your brother has none at all. It demands a change in lifestyle.

I thought I had understood that before coming to Malawi, but what living here has done is challenge my view of excess. Yes, I give so that I cannot afford to buy music CDs and movies at my whim. I must plan for those purchases. But is that simply the excess to my excess? What is excess? What is need? What am I "entitled to" - anything that my African neighbours are not? The Bible says that the poor will always be with us, yet we need to open our hands freely. Freely - to what extent is that?

Check-Up Day

Today I got up early to head out to the old courthouse in Nkumba...where I was charged with stealing corn and sentenced to 2 months in prison.

Just joking.

Yes, so I got up early to head out to Nkumba, where I would be having a meeting with the field promoters I trained on Monday to see how they were progressing with their survey. The meeting was set for 9 am, and Nkumba is roughly 2 hours from Zomba. By the time we were rolling down the high-way, it was 8 am. As it turns out, we were only a half hour late instead of a whole hour, and everyone arrived right around the same time. We even passed by one promoter one her bicycle and picked her up. I let her sit in the cab and I sat in the back with the bike. It was my third time in the back of a pick-up truck (but first time in a skirt)!

One of the hold-ups to getting on the road was that I had to buy buns and a crate of pop for refreshments. Pop is the drink of choice here since it is one of the only drinks that the water is guaranteed to be safe. I loaded up a crate full of Coca-Cola, Sprite, and Fanta and asked the guy how much I owed him. 1,750 kwacha (roughly $13). Oh dear, I thought. I don't have 1,750 kwacha. And that seemed high compared to my memory. I told him I couldn't afford it and walked away. Then Harry, who was driving me to Nkumba, asked me why I didn't buy the pop. I said I couldn't afford it. He said something to the guy in Chichewa, which later he told me was "She's with me," and the price instantly dropped to 800 kwacha. Such is the life of an "azungu" (foreigner/European) in Malawi!

So crate of pop and buns in tow, we were off. The meeting was short, which is a way of saying that the check-up went really well! I asked each of them how many surveys they had completed. How many respondents had refused the survey (I think only 3 out of the whole bunch! Unimaginable response rates for North America...). Then I sat down one-on-one with each of them and looked through their surveys and respondent lists. After addressing a couple mistakes, we were all done. I was incredibly relieved to see that they all seemed to understand the skip patterns (i.e. "If respondent says yes, then go to question #..."), and that ID numbers and consent signatures were all there. Ah - the first project really is in full swing!

And so, I have this next week to get the second project focus group questions and attitude survey together, before pre-testing it in the village the week after. Everything is actually on schedule - the same schedule I made before I arrived on African soil. God has been gracious!

Tslani bwino! (Stay well)

Waiting

Since arriving in Malawi, I have had many opportunities to improve (or exacerbate) my patience. Fortunately, for the most part, all of the waiting has made me more laid-back rather than more uptight. It would not take long for an impatient person to perish here simply from the anxiety caused by waiting, because it seems that one is nearly always waiting for something or someone. I thought that today I would share some recent examples.

There are the general everyday things, like waiting for the power to come back on. Waiting two hours after dinner to take my malarial medication, and then waiting another 30 minutes before it is safe to lay down and sleep. There is waiting in the office for 10-20 minutes for a 1.9 Mb report to download. And lately, another daily waiting activity has been the suspense of waiting to see if the Malawian telephone networks will allow international calls - my parents, despite numerous attempts, have only managed to connect through 2 or 3 times since May 26th.

Then of course, there is waiting for people. Yesterday I held a training session for the health promoters that will be carrying out the I-LIFE survey I designed (it starts today actually!). We waited for an hour for everyone to show up. This was actually not too bad considering the promoters came by bicycle, and one ever 3.5 hours by foot. I have heard horror stories from co-workers about waiting for a bus that showed up 8 hours late. Today there was a management meeting, and Helen said that nobody showed up at all. Things like that aren't all that uncommon here.

My most pronounced waiting experience, however, was photocopying the surveys this past Saturday. I started on Friday afternoon at 3 pm. I was delighted to learn that the photocopier in our office did double-sided printing. Except for the requirement to let the photocopier rest for 10 minutes between runs, things were going pretty smoothly. I had almost finished 120 copies by 5:30, when the photocopier ran out of toner. Of course, after inquiring with the other office, I found out that, of course, we had been waiting a while for a new order of toner. Since the toner cartridge from the other photocopying didn't fit in the first photocopier, I trekked up to the other office (called the "upper office" since it is just up the hill from my office, the "lower office"). The photocopier in the upper office not only did not do double-sided photocopying, but as I quickly learned, needed longer breaks between runs, and was extremely susceptible to frequent paper jams.

I started photocopying at 9 am on Saturday morning, figuring I'd be out by lunch. After all, I only had 320 copies left - a job that would only take 30 minutes on the Health Canada photocopiers I had used as a summer student in Ottawa. Surely this job wouldn't take any longer than 3 hours.

At 4 pm (7 hours later), I walked out of the office, tired but happy. They were done. That is all that mattered.

So, in short (or in long), it took 9.5 hours to make 440 copies of a 3-page, double-sided survey. And I am thankful to God it only took that - imagine had the toner run out in the second photocopier!

So be careful if you ever pray for patience. God might send you to Africa!

A Comedy of Errors

I have been quite pampered during my few weeks here in Malawi. Sarah Eggert looked after me as if she were my own mother. She did my laundry, and put out fabulous meals night after night. Because of this, I have not had to cook at all. The weekend the Eggerts went to Lilongwe, I was going to make a lentil stew, but was invited to eat with the Jones family. And so, my debut as a gourmet Malawian chef was *supposed* to be two nights ago, on Sunday.

On Sunday afternoon, I got busy slicing and dicing myriads of veggies for a delectable vegetable chowder. All of the prep work done, I headed off to Sunday volleyball, only to find out that Josh MacDowell was in town and speaking at the university in 45 minutes. Ben and I rushed back to our respective houses, and my veggies stayed put in the fridge. Instead I plowed down a bowl Corn Flakes with milk that tasted like water - I haven't yet got the right ratio for the powdered milk. "I will cook the chowder tomorrow," I told myself, and hurriedly rushed off to the university with Ben and Mike B. As my old friend Chung would say, "Worth it!!"

And so, I got home after swinging by the Eggert house to pick up some donated food. I put all the veggies in the pot, along with chicken bouillon, water, rice, and seasoning. Everything was going just fine until - the power went out.

For those of you who have never been to Africa, the power goes out quite often here. In Zomba where I'm living, there are power outages mostly every day, sometimes twice. They usually last 1.5 hours and hit between 6-7 pm. If there is a second power outage, it is in the morning or around lunch, but those usually do not last as long.

So here I am with a partially cooked chowder, and a conundrum. What should I do? Wait a likely 2.5 more hours to eat? It was already 6 pm. Call the Jones family, and go there for dinner? Eat more bread and peanut butter?

No, I thought. I musn't be so weak and dependent. Most Malawians didn't even have power, and cooked all their food over a fire. Why not me?

And so [aha my friends, the power just switched on. Hurray!]

...now I am going to write this at the risk of sounding incredibly foolish, however at the time it seemed like a good idea...

I resolved to make scrambled eggs by frying them over a candle.

It didn't work as well as I thought.

The pan wasn't heating up, so I borrowed the pot cover from my chowder. About 10 minutes into the "egg-scapade", I heard a dripping noise. I walked over to my clay water filter, frying pan in hand. Nope, no water coming out of the spigot. Okay, back to business...holding my frying pan, holding my frying pan. More dripping? I walked over again to inspect the water filter. Indeed, water was seeping from where the filter portion and the bottom vessel contacted. The vessel had overflown, and there was a mini-flood on the floor. I turned around abruptly to put down the frying pan as the cover went flying off and onto the floor. Frantically, I picked it up and set the frying pan on the counter. I went over and grabbed the top portion of the filter and pored out its contents. This filter is extremely heavy, and not wanting to contaminate it, I could not put it down. And so, one-hand holding the 10-pound clay mass and the other rummaging for a pot and a ladle, I scooped out the excess water from the bottom vessel so that I could put the 10-pound clay top back on the bottom. I did damage control on the flood with my mop made out of a bamboo branch. That over with, I went back to my "frying", and twenty minutes later, decided that I was done (though the egg was not).

Still, I figured the egg was done enough, so I slapped it between two pieces of plain bread, and prayed a very thankful prayer, realizing what a struggle it is to prepare food without electricity, and grateful that I had any food at all.

Then it was time to clean up. All seemed well until I noticed a thick black residue all over the underside of the frying pan. I suppose it was carbon monoxide. I opened the windows and started to scrub. Even now [it is Monday night], I am letting the sink soak in bleach to remove black stains that I don't think will come off. My hands look like I've spent my day cleaning chimneys. At least I didn't set anything on fire with the candles as I walked around the house.

So that, in detail, was my first Malawian cooking experience.

Smatterings

If you never thought that Africa could feel cold - well, you're wrong! It's coming into the Malawian winter. Now let me qualify that. You'll still feel warm (even hot) and maybe perspire when you're out in the sun in the middle of the day. But outside of the sun, even in the daytime, I need to where long sleeves, a light jacket, and socks. At nightime it is even colder. I am very happy I have a nice warm sleeping bag to sleep in. I think of the people living around me, and how some of their houses have no glass in the windows - nothing to keep the warm air in and the cold air out. And no fancy sleeping bag.

So now I am living just two doors down from my office. The house is on a beautiful fenced property, and the house has tiled floors! (No concrete) I have the house to myself for now. On the weekends I will be sharing with a family who weekends in Zomba. Then I was supposed to get roommates for the month of July, but who knows now since it looks like I'm going to have to move out of this house in a month since Dignitas (the actual renters of this house) have just hired some new staff. Oh how I hope for a mutually beneficial delay for the move-in! I don't want to move again (the story of my life - my parents can attest).

Yesterday I had the wonderful opportunity to attend a joint Chichewa/English joint service in Chinamwali to celebrate the opening of the pastor training institution by EBCM and EI. All I can say is WOW! The church I am going to in Zomba is quite conservative in terms of expression during worship. The Chinamwali service was more what I had envisionned an African church service to be. There was awesome dancing and choral singing in Chichewa. There was time for the whole church to pray. The sick were invited to come up and the pastors prayed over them. It felt sort of like what I envisioned an early church experience 2000 years ago to be like - but more expressive. One thing I didn't expect was the honour that they give to their visitors. All the visitors were invited to stand in the front, and then as the whole church erupted into song, every single man, woman, and child marched up single file to shake our hands in welcome. Think of a congo line. I was blown away, and quite humbled by the experience.

An unexpected bonus yesterday (for those who have heard of Josh MacDowell), I got to attend an evening service at the University of Malawi. Josh MacDowell spoke (he is a famous American Christian author). It was pretty cool to see him live - and in Malawi of all places! He looked exactly like I had pictured. I wonder if that's because one of his books I read when I was a kid had a profile picture or something...

Work is clickety-clacking along nicely. So far I am on schedule with my target dates. I will be finalizing my survey for my first project this week, after I get it translated and pre-test it with some people in the neighbourhood. Then I will train the field workers in how to administer the survey next Monday, and they will go to town (or 'village' should I say?) and carry it out. All in all, there will be 362 face-to-face oral surveys conducted in the next 3 weeks by 7 field staff.

Finally, after a long hiatus of 13 years, I have taken up volleyball again (recreationally of course!). I may not be the greatest gal on the court, but you know what? I'm not too bad either! And it's lots of fun - a great chance to get to know some Malawian friends, and get to know some EI co-workers better.

Well, I think that's it for now. I plan to upload some new pics soon of my new place. Tsalani bwino!

Sticks and stones

A challenge one always faces in moving to a new place is remembering peoples' names. You meet people in your workplace, around the neighbourhood, at church, at the market, and so on. Obviously, it is easier to remember names that are familiar - that you have heard before.

Here in Malawi, many people have English names. Some even have two names - a Chichewa name and an English name. But just because someone has an English name does not automatically make name-learning easier task.

For example, the other day I met a man who called himself what sounded like Wee-rad.
-"Chonde nenaninso (Please say again)," I said.
-The man repeated, "Wee-rad."
-"Wee-rad?" I repeated.
-"Yes, Wee-rad," he said smiling

Mike, my boss was standing nearby and stepped into save me.
-"His name is Willard."

This was a case of bewilderment/incomprehension via the Malawian accent.

Then there is the challenge of spelling. Many English names are spelled as they would be pronounced using Chichewa phonetics. For example, Jennifer becomes Enifer. In addition to that, Malawians do not tend to categorize names by gender the same as we would in English-speaking countries. For example, I met someone's Uncle who was named Missy.

But what takes the cake are not the names that are hard to hear, spell, or understand. They are the names that are perfectly easy to understand. In fact, you can even know their meaning from the moment you hear them! Like yesterday, I met a man selling wooden carvings named Lettuce ("Yes, like the vegetable," he said). There is a cook in the neighbourhood named Bambo (Mr.) Window, and another person named Salad. My favourite though is a night-guard by the name of Bambo (Mr.) Square-Table.

Perhaps I have entered into the second stage of culture shock - humour.

Happy birthday Dad!

Today is Dad's birthday - the first birthday I haven't been able to come home for May long weekend. It would be a bit of a long flight I think! Thinking of you and missing you Dad today especially.

A side note - I was unable to get on the computer on the 24th, but a special belated birthday wish to my good friend Heather. Happy birthday my dear friend!

A second side note - to those experiencing difficulty with the pictures, just click on where the pictures are, and my FLICKR site will open. You can them browse the rest of the pictures one-by-one, or you can select "JoyfulJangle's Photostream" and it will organize the pictures into pages.

Tsalani bwino (stay well)!

Sharp mind, soft heart

Every morning, I ask God to give me a sharp mind and a soft heart. The poverty is overwhelming here, so much so that it seems "normal". I must keep reminding this that this may be "normal" here, but that is what global health is all about...making poverty-induced diseases "abnormal".

Life here is certainly different than Canada! I have not had to face the full brunt of it as of yet, as the Eggert house has a refrigerator, a washing machine, and running water. But I am thankful for all those things, so many other things are different. The first time I went to the market, I didn't ever want to go back. Malawians are big into greetings, so even some person has just heard you say, "I am fine, how are you?" (in Chichewa of course) four times already, you must do it over again. There were so many people. It was exhausting. But now I'm quicker with Chichewa greetings and more confident, so I'm going to go back tomorrow!

Of course, if you don't go to the market, the market can come to you. A rather funny thing happened last weekend. There was a knock at the gate. Sarah came back into the kitchen and said I had visitors. "For me?" Who on earth would be knocking at the gate for me? "Oh, they came at 7 am but we told them you were still sleeping. They want you to come and buy paintings from them." I walked out and greeted the three men, and looking at the paintings spread all over the grass along the side of the road said, "Wow, this just doesn't happen in Canada!" I have another seller coming to track me (specifically) down this afternoon at the office. They all know I'm here and where I live. Oh dear oh dear!

This week I went out to the villages 3 days out of 5. I used my first pit latrine (a hole in the ground with an elephant-grass/bamboo structure built around." I met lots of excited, curious, endearing children, and gracious women. One little girl in particular stood out. Her name was Devi. She was two years old. I went to the International AIDS Candelight Ceremony in Bwananyambi. She started out about 15 feet away. By the time the celebration started, she was on my lap. She held my hand and walked with me afterwards, and even pushed through a circle of nearly 50 kids who had surrounded me - to gaze, to listen to me say "Zikomo, zikomo!" (thank you, thank you), and to laugh! It's strange - being an azungu (white/European foreigner) here is like being an instant celebrity. I had to remind myself that Jesus is the Saviour of these kids...not me!

There are so many more stories to tell from the past week, but I'll leave it at that. It's lunch time, which means the office shuts down for 1 1/2 hours and everyone goes home and eats with their family. The Eggerts left for Lilongwe for the weekend today, so it'll just be me by my lonesome. Tsalani bwino! (Stay well!)

Journey Excerpts

I left for Malawi on Monday, and arrived on Wednesday. Since I couldn’t update during my journey until now, I thought I’d just share some small excerpts from my travel journal.

May 12 – 11:00 pm EST

Here I am at Gate C33 at Pearson, not by myself, but with the Holy Spirit. I don’t know which it is – a divine dose of peace or denial, but I am calm and ready to go. Vicki’s whole family came to help me unload my bags. I just felt so grateful. All I could keep saying was thank you...

May 13 – 6:20 pm GMT (Heathrow Airport)

I dozed for most of the afternoon, and finally got a spot on the funky red leather couch. It was quite comfortable. I’m lucky I woke up. Feeling some butterflies now. The long gruelling 11 hours are ahead. I feel not too tired though.

May 14 – 6:25 am GMT+2

We’re 28 minutes from landing in Johannesburg, South Africa. The sun is rising on the left side of the plane. Here on the right side is a sky like a hazy rainbow. I can’t see the ground very well right now, but it seems to mostly be flat...It is midnight in Ontario, and 1 am in Nova Scotia. I don’t expect Mom or Dad to be awake right now. I can hardly believe I am! So...yeah, here I am in Africa (!). The strange thing is, even as I sit here and gaze out at the South African countryside, it still hasn’t really sunt in. Only 7 more hours until I touch down in Blantyre (which we already passed by nearly 2 hours ago heading over Zambia). Ah, the descent...

May 14 – 9 pm GMT+2 (Eggert house, Zomba, Malawi)

Only one word can fully capture today – SURREAL. I watched the sunrise in South Africa. I met a Christian missionary from Seattle. I made friends with the Malawi head of South African Airways. I took illegal pictures at Johannesburg and Chileka airports (unknowingly of course!). I met the moving, living, breathing versions of the Jones and the Eggerts. I walked barefoot on the rusty red Malawian soil. I washed dishes with a semi-solit pink detergent called Axion. I was greeted in Chichewa by Bambo (Mr.) John, a real Chichewa speaker. I took a hot (!) shower and wondered what Mom would do if she saw what a Malawi bathroom looks like. And now I’m sitting under my mosquitoe net, listening to the local dogs barking. Today I did a reflective spotcheck on the fact that I had just traveled down the entire African continent by myelf. As I gazed in wonder at in wonder at the red, rugged terrain passing below, I was flooded with the reassurance that I am not in fact alone. God’s presence was just...there. No questions. Just silent peace and gratitude.

Heartfelt Thanks

In almost exactly 15 days (down to the hour), I will be starting my trip to Malawi, Africa for 3 months. Though the voyage itself doesn't start for two more weeks, the journey has certainly already begun. I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks to all those who are already part of this journey, through prayer, donations, time, effort, and encouragement. Thanks to the Lord's provision through many of you, I have the funds to complete this mission-practicum. And thanks to the Lord's provision, I have the strength to obey this call.

For me, this blog has a triple purpose. For one, it is a way for me to record and flush out the experiences that are to come. Second, it is a way to provide window into life here in Malawi, for the many people who live here. Most importantly, however, I hope that this blog will be an encouragement to you - to pray, to give thanks, to cherish the ones around you, and to be motivated in the unique, mission that God has given just to you...for each and every one of us, as Pastor Jamie at Redeemer Alliance reminded us today, has one.