Friday, March 26, 2010

This is Africa (cont...)

T.I.A. Moments Continued….

The other day I decided to walk to A.Y.I.D. (the youth group I am working with). Normally I ride my back, but I felt like going for a walk. A.Y.I.D. is in a small fishing village on the lake so fishermen are going in and out constantly on their bicycles. One offered me a ride, I was still pretty far away and the charm of my long walk had long since worn off. I jumped on the rack on the back of his bike and off we went faster than normal but I thought he was just in a hurry to get to the fish. The path started sloping down and we started going even faster…..I see my fishermen motion to his friends to stop and I become slightly concerned. My fishermen starts riding off the path into the bushes, trees, and brush attemping to slow down. I jump off and he gets the bike under control. He then apologies “ sorry madam, I am just missing these”—he points to the brakes.



#2
There are certain heartbreak things I have (sadly) gotten used to—the babies with bloated bellies and orange hair from malnutrition, the wailing nearly every other night announcing yet another funeral, men hobbling with the aid of a stick to walk on their severely twisted leg, teachers justifying AIDS as a form of population control…etc. But the other day my heart hurt because I realized how little control I have over anything. I was on my way to Nkhotakota when an open bed truck flew past-in the back without a guard rail was a lady lying on a green plastic mattress and an IV attached to the cab. For as beautiful as this country is, sometimes it just breaks my heart.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Paradise

If you ever join the Peace Corps it is certainly an added bonus to be in a beautiful beautiful country. Two weeks ago Jesi, Alexis, Will and I traveled north during the school holiday to visit Will's site and hike to Livingstonia. We attempted to make it to Will's site on one day but our bus ran out of gas and Jesi's bus (she was coming from Nkhotakota) got stuck in the mud. We camped that night in Muzuzu which also means that had cheeseburgers at the hostel. : ) We made it to Will's site Wednesday afternoon and quickly realized he lives in paradise. He is right on the lake so we got to swim and ate a giant feast at his head teacher's house. Thursday morning we started early (in the rain) with the walk from Will's house to the bottom of the road/trail. It is a 15k hike uphill with over 21 switchbacks and absolutely stunning. We didn't really have plans to stay anywhere (thus is the whimsical schedule (or lack thereof) of traveling in Malawi) but ended up at the Lukwe Permaculture Camp. After a long day of hiking in the rain it seemed totally justifiable to cram into a chalet and enjoy a little vacation. We explored their incredible gardens (they grow everything from coffee, maize, peppers, beans, bananas, etc) and then played in a giant waterfall. We also had the most delicious food (probably because everything comes from the garden). We were the only people there and it was probably one of my favorite nights in Malawi thus far.

Friday morning we wandered around Livingstonia (historically, a really important spot in Malawi but not really much to do...at all) and then found transport down the mountain. We had dinner a the headteachers house where I had my first experience with condolay. Condolay is nsima made from cassava...so think mashed cassava past = the gluiest, thickest substance I have ever eaten. They have to saw it apart, literally. Malawians love it because they "do not feel hunger" after eating. I didn't feel hunger either, I just felt like I had eaten cotton balls with elmers glue.

Saturday Jesi, Alexis, and I attempted to make our way home. It started well and we arrived in Muzuzu around 9:45, plenty of time to make it home. Due to finances (read: we have no money) the most cost effective method of transport is hitching. So we tried...for three hours...in the rain, pushing back our must leave time little by little. Finally, we realized we might have better luck in Nkhata Bay so we begrudgingly paid for transport. Nkhata Bay was equally problematic. We waited another four hours and then remembered something about difficulty traveling down the lakeshore road in the middle of rainy season due to bridges washing out and impassable muddy roads. whoops. Luckily, one of the girls in our group lived about 30k south of Nkhata Bat so we again paid our way to Chinteche. Sunday morning exhausted, dirty, and ready to go home we accepted the fact we have to pay for a bus. I couldn't remember the last time I bathed and after spending the previous nights in a tent, sharing a double bed with 2 other girls, and 3 nights on the floor, my foam mattress and bucket bath never looked so good.

Positives Upon Arrival
* My brothers were waiting for me at the bus depot!
* People remembered me! (I was a little nervous after being gone for 2 weeks)
*I realized I was excited about coming home.
* Everything was still in my house

Not as positive...
*EVERYTHING in my house was moldy. Clothes, tables, dishes, everything. 4 hours of laundry and lots of mopping and scrubbing I think it is okay now..


Back to reality.....
After galavanting across Malawi I, very quickly, was reminded that yes I live in a village in Africa. Last Monday I went to Gertrude's house to meet with her and the Post Test group (the people living with HIV/AIDS). On the way I nearly rode my bike over a crazy green snake. I am not, nor will I ever be a fan of snakes. I am convinced it was a green mamba and like to count this as a brush with death. (maybe that is dramatic, but drama is necessary when dealing with snake encounters) Anyway, Gertrude wasn't there but some of the other ladies were around and it wasn't until after serving me Palla (porridge) that they asked why I was there...feeling kind of silly because I ate their palla and there wasn't really a meeting I just said I would help with the chickens. So we walked into the corral and they handed me a chicken and showed me how to clean its feet (toes? talons? whatever chickens walk on) Yes, I picked chicken poo off of chicken feet. For an hour. T.I.A.


loads of love,
elisabeth