The Hardest Days

Time has a strange way of moving in Malawi. Some days seem to crawl on forever, while blocks of time come and go with the blink of an eye. It is an odd paradox of feeling like I will be here forever, while often worrying if I can be effective in two short years. Recently, the days have been flying by without a moment to catch my breath but things came to a standstill this weekend and truth be told it was one of the hardest weekends I have had thus far.

I will preface this weekend’s events with the fact that last week was spent typing exams. Lots and lots and lots of exams—full of ridiculous questions and complicated diagrams—you can have a look at my three favorite questions found in the Social and Development Studies Exam at the end of this blog for your enjoyment. I don’t really mind typing exams, it is just extremely tedious and boring and I was trying to do too much. (as per usual)

Saturday was a bust. I was supposed to have a gender development workshop which was initially scheduled for a different location. I changed the location at the last workshop, each school was represented and wrote it down and confirmed the location change. When I arrived at my school a little before 9 I wasn’t really surprised to not see any of the other teachers. But then it was 10 and then 10:30 and no one called or texted so I went to find my headteacher who had sent our teacher to the initial location for the workshop. I felt terrible for changing the location and the miscommunication, but I was mostly bummed that no inquired about my whereabouts in an effort to hold the workshop.

Lucky for me I have my brothers. I have never had a dog but sometimes I think coming home to them is like coming home to dogs. (in the most loving sense) They can tell if I have had a good day (that is when they ask for sweeties or pencils) or a bad day (that is when they suggest a dance party and color with me). The point is that they can always tell what kind of a mood I am in and know how to respond. (well, maybe it is the fact that I give them pencils and sweeties and the occasional cup of cooking oil but what are neighbors for?) Anyway, we had a grand dance party in my house and I believe you would be hard pressed to find a person who could be in a bad mood jumping around to the Jackson 5.

Sunday morning I found out a Form 2 student from my school died. My neighbor told me it was Malaria (Malawians think everything is Malaria-thus part of the problem is resistance to the treatments because they take Coartem (malaria medication) for everything but that is another story). I found out from other teachers that it was a rib injury. Precious Mbale (the student) was a football player and football is no joke in Malawi. I often cringe watching them play because few students wear shoes or shin guards or any of the other protective sportswear my overly maternal instincts deem necessary for contact sports. Anyway, he had been complaining about his rib cage and while I am not a doctor he was coughing blood and that seems like a sign of a punctured lung or internal bleeding or something painful. But I think they gave him malaria medication. He passed early Sunday morning. I had yet to attend a funeral in Malawi and I hope to not have to attend many more. The men and women are divided into different areas. The women first must visit one area to deliver the flour and fire wood to the family, their name is checked off a list and they can move to the prayer area. There are prayers and songs and everyone from the village was there, in many ways it was so beautiful and moving. Amongst all of these beautiful sounds there is the hammering and sawing of the men building the coffin. It seemed like such a strange contradiction between the prayers of a safe journey to heaven meshed with the sounds of building what seemed like a permanent, final resting place. After some time the chief speaks and finally the community is allowed to mourn and cry. My students who are normally so bubbly and full of life looked so defeated and sad. The boys from school carried Precious in his coffin to the road to an ox-cart that would take him away to be buried. There are no grief counselors for the students, life goes on at Mkaika, but life was taken away too soon from such a beautiful person.

Peace Corps tries to prepare you for funerals and death, we had training on what to wear and how to act, but this was so real. It made me miss my friend Grant who passed this time last year, though I know he is an angel to SO many people now. It reminded me to tell you that I love you and I appreciate you. It reminded me that life really is Precious.


Loads of love,
elisabeth





On a lighter note, here are some of the ridiculous test questions I have spent way too long typing. Enjoy.

1) All the these are gender roles for women except:
a. Taking care of children at home
b. Cooking for the family
c. Taking care of sick people
d. Digging graves at funerals is for husbands

2) What rights do women have according to Malawian constitution?
i. Right to inherit property
ii. Right to polygamous family
iii. Right to best education
iv. Right to be beaten by their husband
a. I, II, and III
b. I and III
c. II and IV
d. III and IV

3) What are functions and duties of the state:
i. Homicide
ii. Nutrition
iii. Health
iv. Killing political opponents
a. I and II
b. II and III
c. III and IV
d. I and IV