yet to be determined

The Chills

2009-05-20T10:58:00.003-05:00

Have you ever gotten the chills?

You know, when goosebumps run up your back.

When do you get them?

I got them on Sunday, in a pretty intense way. I was invited to accompany one of my friends to her roommate's gospel choir performance. Having been in a gospel choir, and loving gospel music, I jumped at the opportunity. The performance included two different choirs, one from Lasalle Street Church, which was composed predominantly of white people, and the other from South Street Church, which was composed predominantly of black people. I must admit, though the Lasalle Street choir was great and sounded beautiful, the South Street choir carried an energy and skill that was something to be striven for. However, that wasn't the climax of the performance. The part of the performance that gave me intense chills was when the two choirs joined together, blending their voices and combining their parts. The voice I heard from these two choirs together spoke truth. But I'll get back to that. Let me go back to the chills for a little bit.

I get the chills on a pretty regular occasion, but I experience a very wide range of types of chills. There's a whole spectrum that I experience, from the very minute tingle in the back of my neck, all the way up to a shiver that shakes my whole body, in what can be a pretty violent shimmy. Some of you may have witnessed one of those shuddering shimmies of mine; they jump out of nowhere sometimes.

In addition to the wide range of physical expressions of the chills, I've also noticed that my chills can be inspired by very different stimuli. I sometimes get the chills in response to a cool breeze or draft of air running down my back or hitting me in the face. But I can also get the chills, sometimes to a very intense degree, when someone speaks words that strike my heart chord, when I gaze my eyes upon a beautiful landscape, when I witness an act of pure-hearted love, compassion, trust, or joy, or, when a spirit moving sound of music or voice hits my ear drums.

I just looked up the definition of the chills, and it looks like the medical phenomenon to which the slang refers to, cutis anserina, is a little different than what I'm talking about. Cutis anserina refers to the little bumps that form when a tiny little muscle at the base of our hair follicles contracts causing our hair to stand up. Apparently, this response is sparked by a nerve discharge from our sympathetic nervous system, a part of our autonomic nervous system, the system that regulates organ function and our fight or flight response. I could get into a discussion of all that stuff, but I do have a point to this post that I'd like to get to eventually, (and, if you're still reading this, you'd probably like me to get there eventually too) so I'm just going to leave that stuff there and try to get where I'm going. If you're interested, though, I love talking about all that physiological stuff, so shoot me a line.

What I was trying to get to with that last paragraph is that what I call the chills is not only that physical response of our hair standing up and our skin getting little bumps. It is true that that happens to me sometimes when I get the chills, but it doesn't always--maybe only half of the time. Usually, though, what I call the chills is a tingle or warmth that seems to, depending on the situation, shoot up, roll up, or even just glow up my back, seemingly running along my spine. However, it doesn't always have an external manifestation. Often, it is something that I seem to feel on the inside. It is as if there is a string tied from my head to the core of my body, and certain things have the ability to play that string, sending vibrations of energy through my inner being. Sometimes, when that string is hit, the note that is played sends a rush through my body. It can even move me to tears.

The experience of that note being played is one of the most beautiful experiences of being alive for me. When that string is pulled, something moves inside of me that lets me know that I am alive, that I'm human. And while this movement sometimes expresses itself on a physical level, I also feel it is something deeply spiritual. It is as if that string is tied between my soul and my body, the connection between my spiritual side and my physical side. The experience of this movement is one of the reasons I believe in a God.

It has often been when seeing, hearing, or feeling things having to do with God that I've most intensely experienced this inner vibration. Something inside of me resonates with the idea of God, a creating source, an original home, the essence of love, the uniting element between all things. When confronted with things of beauty, things of love, things of joy, and things of compassion, something tells me they are true and real, that they exist, surround us, and compose us. These things are not physical, and we cannot see them or touch them, but in my life they have been so real--so real that I cannot deny their existence. And spirit is the best word I've found to describe what they are. This is what God is to me--that spirit that is beauty, love, joy, compassion, and more. It is something that I can see in other people, and something that I believe is in all people. It is the spirit that leads to creating art, paintings, music, sculptures, and even chairs, desks, houses, cars, and food. It is the spirit that leads to creating friendships, marriages, families, and babies (that fourth of the four F's). It is what moves us humans to offer ourselves, to give of ourselves, and even to sacrifice of ourselves for others. I believe it is this spirit that motivates life and inspires the potential within us.

I've also seen it in other things--in trees, mountains, rivers, rain, sunshine, snow, flowers, stars, the wind, and so much more. That spirit is God to me, and when I sense it around me, the spirit within me resonates. The chills are a physical expression of that resonance for me, and the way I've experienced them tells me God is real. I don't think any religion has done an excellent job of painting a picture of God, but I think all religions hold some pixel of truth. I think religion helps point us in a direction toward God, but the world around us, the life we live, does such a better job of showing us what God is.

The voices I heard last Sunday, the sound it made, and the sight of those people was a glimpse of God for me. It sent chills through me, body and soul.

Yard work

2009-05-06T16:20:00.003-05:00

I think I found another reason why things didn't work for me in Malawi: yard work.

I really like yard work. And though there was definitely work around our volunteer house that had to be done, and though, as the other volunteers in my community could attest to, I didn't always jump at the opportunity to do that work, it is true that I didn't often have the opportunity to do routine yard work like cutting the grass or trimming the hedges. In fact, our volunteer community would intentionally choose not to do some of the yard work around our house. I think we choose not to do it for good reasons. It just that I didn't like the fact that I didn't get to do it on a regular occasion. Or perhaps, more accurately, what I didn't like is that I didn't have to do it on a regular occasion. And here I'm going to shift off my yard work topic for a bit, but I'll get back to it.

You see, many of the students at Chaminade or at MIRACLE, as well as some of our neighbors or other people from the community, would often come to our house to ask for 'piece work.' Piece work in Malawi is work that a person can do for a particular amount of time but is not a long-term or permanent source of income. It's something someone will do for a day or a couple of days in order to earn a small sum of cash. Many of our students really needed this work. They used the money to help pay their school fees, or to buy their school uniforms, or even to pay for transportation to and from school. And really, they often had no other way to earn it. Typically, a person would get paid about 300 Malawian Kwacha for one full day's work, roughly from 7AM until 4PM, including a cooked lunch. This is what we would pay our pieceworkers. 300 Malawian Kwacha is equal to about $2.14. Sound ridiculous, right? Well, that is what is a typical earning for a full day of work in Malawi, so we stuck with it. Though $2.14 seems absolutely trivial to us in the States, that $2.14 was more than many Malawians make. $2.14/day is what Malawians with a job would make, and most Malawians don't have paying jobs. Most Malawians live off of subsistence farming. So, I'm glad we didn't do our yard work. We had enough money in our budget to provide opportunities for our students and neighbors to do work, and I'm glad we were able to help them earn some money. I do think, however, that doing yard work is important for a healthy mind, a healthy spirit, and a healthy body. At least, it is for me. And this is where I'll get back to the topic of yard work.

Yesterday, I trimmed the hedges around our front yard. And I liked it! It took me close to two hours, and, though I was using an electric hedge trimmer, it was hard work. My hands got tired from holding the hedge trimmer, my back, arms, and shoulders felt the strain of the repetitive motions. And my muscles were tired by the time I had to bend over to lift the piles of branches and leaves into the garbage can. Despite the tedious work of it and despite any discomfort from it, I really enjoyed doing it, and it brought back to me a feeling I remember from all the days I spent doing yard work throughout my childhood and young adult life.

I never really wanted to do yard work. It was more often something I had to do when my mom told me to so. And you can ask her, I didn't always want to do it. But, whenever I did finally put on my shoes, muster myself out to the back porch to get the needed rake, shovel, or mower, and lowered my shoulder into that not-so-glamorous work, I usually ended the day with a sense of pride and a feeling of joy.

I think there is something inherently joyful about doing yard work. First of all, it gives us an opportunity, an excuse, or sometimes forces us, to get outside! Whenever we do yard work, we're brought up close and personal with the beauty of nature: the smell of freshly cut grass and spring flowers in the trees, the sight of a chipper squirrel seeking out a nut to steal back to her nest, the sound of a nearby songbird singing his song, the weighty feel of a log or branch needing to be moved, and the bittersweet taste of a raspberry plucked two-weeks before you should have. These things are so life-giving, and I don't think I'd want to live somewhere I couldn't enjoy them. Yard work reminds us to stop our busy schedules and get out and enjoy the beauty of nature. Second of all, yard work is physical work, and we all know how important physical activity is for our hearts, minds, and souls. Last night, when I finally got back inside, sat down, and pulled off my shoes, I had the feeling of having done good work. My body was happy having worked hard and having used the muscles I was given. Yard work gets us active in the middle of a lifestyle that has become predominantly sedentary. And finally, yard work helps us respect and appreciate the environment we inhabit. I know whenever I cut the grass, or when I look at the hedges I just trimmed, or after I clear out overgrown bushes, I stop and look at the job before heading in, or I take notice of it the next time I get home from being out, and I take a bit of pride in this land that I've cared for. Granted, I don't live on a farm or anything, but I take joy in the little work I do to keep up, maintain, and beautify my home.

And that's why I like yard work. But don't get me wrong, especially if you're my mom reading this. This doesn't mean I want to be outside every day or even every other day doing yard work. Yard work shouldn't be something that takes over your life. There's so much more to enjoy in life! Yard work is just one of them.

It's been a few weeks

2009-04-29T21:46:00.003-05:00

I realized the other day that it had been a few weeks since the last time I posted on here, so I thought I'd hop on here and put up a post.

The week and a half from April 17th until April 27th was probably one of the most fun week and a halfs (can I say "week and a halfs"?) I've ever had. During those 10 days, I had the opportunity and ability to travel to a few different cities and focus pretty much all of my time and energy on spending time with friends. I want to write down all of the awesome things I got to do and all of the wonderful people I got to spend time with, but it would probably take me too long. If you're reading this and I spent time with you in Dayton, Indy, Cincy, or anywhere in between, know that I consider the time I shared with you to be an incredible gift. I'd also like to thank all the people who stretched out some form of generosity or hospitality, without which my little trip wouldn't have been possible; THANK YOU.

Now that I've returned back home and have returned to the commonality of daily life, I'm left with a couple of questions: why was this trip so life-giving and joyful, and why can't everyday be like those ten days were?

Well, I think part of the reason everyday can't be like those ten days is because it cost money to do a lot of the things I did, and during those ten days, I didn't do anything to earn that money. It was all money I had saved up. Furthermore, ten days of traveling around and hanging out with friends is pretty wonderful, but any more than that would probably get old. We all need a sense of purpose and a point to our lives. We need a sense of accomplishment, that we are doing something of value and something worthwhile. I imagine this is the hardest part of being unemployed or of being a parent whose children have grown out of their need for them. And I think this was part of my struggle for my first couple months in Malawi. It's also what I'm beginning to face here without yet having found something towards which I can focus my gifts, talents, energies, and passions. But what do we do when it seems like there just aren't any opportunities for us to use those gifts, talents, energies, and passions? Hmm...I don't think I have answer to that just yet.

So what, then, made my ten day friend adventure so nourishing and fulfilling? Well, I think it had something to do with the fact that I was able to be 100% present wherever I was. I had nothing else on my mind except the people right next to me. I didn't have to worry about an assignment or some project, some lesson plan or some schedule. The entire focus of my mind and spirit was on enjoying and appreciating the good and the beauty in the people I was with and in the places I was at.

I think this is something we often forget to do when we have important jobs and tasks to accomplish. We become so fixated on the things we accomplish, the rewards we earn, and the ways we succeed, that we run out of time or energy to simply appreciate the good and the beauty around us. I think our consumerist and materialist culture helps us in this process too. We're always looking for what's new or what's nicer, that it's sometimes hard for us to be content with what we have, to be at peace with what we have, or even better, to be genuinely happy with what we have. How much does that stink? And I'm just as much of a victim as the next person. I have to admit, I LOVE Express clothing. I think Express designs and sells incredibly attractive clothing that is comfortable to wear and compliments the way a person looks. For the past three weeks, Express has been sending me emails informing me of all kinds of deals on their clothes. There are currently about 5 different pieces on sale at Express.com that I want to purchase, and if I had it my way, I'd probably purchase multiple colors of each item. I don't really need them, but I want them, and because I want them, I'm finding it more difficult to be content with the clothes I have, even though I don't really need 3 more Fitted Stretch 1MX dress shirts of various colors. But our culture rewards and respects people who wear nice clothes. And I like that boost of confidence I get when I put on that nice-fitting shirt, a perfect color for the occasion, with my stylish jeans. So what's a guy to do? Where does that bring us?

Well, I think it brings us somewhere in the middle. Work is a good thing. We all yearn for a sense of purpose, and we all need the nourishment of accomplishment. But we shouldn't let our focus on purpose and accomplishment drown out our ability to be present with the people around us, to appreciate who they are, the gifts they have, the humor they carry, and the stories they share. And nice clothes are a nice thing. Wearing them encourages us, helps us feel confident about who we are, and, often, celebrates the beautiful form of our bodies. But we should be careful not to let ourselves get too focused on building up an expansive collection of nice clothes. Not only will we end up spending lots of money that could be used for other, more life-giving things, but we could fall into the trap of failing to be happy with what we have and neglecting to appreciate all the wonderful things around us that we don't have to buy.

Life is so good, and so is most of what is in it. I think we people are just a little bit addictive with things, so we have to remember to appreciate the good things for what they are without going so far as to neglecting all the other great things around us.

What a gift

2009-04-11T12:46:00.007-05:00

I've been home for three weeks now, and with Easter tomorrow, I couldn't think of a better time to write about the incredible blessings that surround me.

Since arriving home, things have been more than wonderful. I have spent much of the past three weeks with friends and family, enjoying their company and appreciating their presence. I could not have asked for, or even dreamed of, a better welcome home. It has been very nourishing, encouraging, and in many ways very healing. At the same time, I know that I haven't necessarily hit the ground yet. I've had near a hundred different people cushioning my arrival, and guiding me gently back to this place. Soon, though, I know I will be entering back into the daily grind, which can be daunting or disappointing compared to the continuous fun I've been having during these initial weeks back. However, in many ways, I'm very excited to do so. Though "normal life" isn't as fun as simply focusing on spending fun time with friends and family, I'm excited to enter into daily life carrying some of the new lessons I've learned from my experience in Malawi.

Coming from Malawi, I am absolutely enamored by the abundant blessings we enjoy here in America, and here in the places we call home. Wherever our home may be, we have the assets of all of our friends and all of our family surrounding us, supporting us, and walking this journey with us. WHAT A GIFT!

I was speaking with a good friend of mine just the other day, and after he mentioned that "normal life sucks," I expressed one of the things I'm beginning to see as a major lesson from my Malawian adventure. Yes, it is true that normal life sometimes sucks. "Normal life" seemingly lacks the thrill, adventure, and glory that things like college life or going across the world to volunteer have. At times it normal life is monotonous. Other times, it is difficult and can even be painful. However, the beautiful thing is that here, at the places we call home, we have a network of family and friends surrounding us, supporting us when we are weak, celebrating with us when we succeed, and all along, walking this sometimes monotonous, sometimes painful journey with us. And when you have that, what else really matters? Life is going to suck sometimes. But if you have people who are willing to share in that suckiness with you, who are willing to hold your hand through it, are things really that bad? In someways, I think some of the sweetest experiences in life are when we go through something difficult, something ugly and painful, and we are accompanied by someone who loves us. By no means does this mean I'm going to go around looking for difficult, ugly, and painful experiences. I just got home from one of those, and I can do quite nicely without another one. But from what I've seen of life, it seems like those experiences just come sometimes. You can't avoid them. But how lucky are we that we've been given a life where even the darkest of moments can be transformed by the love shared with us?

The scary thing is that not everyone has that. That is what I think would suck.

With this life I have, whatever it brings, I now see the incredible treasures I have in my friends and family around me. Come what may, I am blessed beyond belief with the gifts of these friends and family. It took me being a bit cut off from them, literally a world apart, to realize the incredible endownment I have been given. That realization in and of itself is an incredible gift, not to mention the gift that that realization is about. As difficult or sucky as things in Malawi might have been, I am so grateful for some of the incredible things I have returned with as a result of my sometimes not so pleasant experiences. Even more so, I am so grateful for the incredible people to which I have returned, waiting with open arms to encompass me with love.

To all these beautiful people in my life and to more, thank you.

Life is beautiful, even when it sucks. It sometimes just takes us a little bit of work to appreciate the beauty around us.

What kind of beauty surrounds you right now?

Can you do a better job of appreciating it?

I know I can.

"Holy Eggplant!"

2009-04-05T11:44:00.002-05:00

Earlier this week, I made my first trip to a grocery store here in the US since arriving back here from Malawi. Surprisingly, I wasn't too overwhelmed by the abundance of aisles, stocked full of food; at least at first. I went to the grocery store that I've been going to for my whole life, so the familiarity of it probably helped tone down the degree of shock I felt.

Though I wasn't blown back by shock, again, at first, I did notice that it took me a REALLY long time to go up and down the aisles. My mom had given me a list of things to pick up, and I found that I was having an incredibly difficult time trying to find the products she was asking for; there were just SOO many different types, brands, styles, and flavors of food. It took me about 5 minutes just to pick out a loaf of white bread for my mom. Why are there so many varieties of bread? I've never noticed it before, but there were probably at least 150 different varieties of bread in the bread aisle.

I'm also pretty sure the young woman at the Deli counter thought I had never seen a Deli before. I walked up to the counter somewhat befuzzled, out of practice with the whole procedure. I gingerly pulled off a number only moments before she looked up at me and asked me what I needed. A little startled, I hesitated, trying to recall what it was that my mom wanted.
...."uh...turkey?"
She laughed a little and asked me, "Okay, what kind of turkey."
"Shoot," I thought, "There's more than one kind of turkey?"
..another pause...
"Umm...which kind is the cheapest?"
"They all are. Today, we have three kinds of turkey on sale for $1.99 a pound." She then listed off the three varieties of turkey on sale that day.
Crap.
"Uh. Let's go with the honey one."
"Okay, how much would you like?"
Dang, there's so many freaking options!
"1lb is good, I think."
"And would you like that sliced thick or thin?"
Are you serious! "How about medium?"

She then sliced one piece, held it over the counter for me to see, and asked if the thickness was good for me.
"Yes. That looks great."

The woman laughed several times throughout the ordeal at my tones, facial expressions, and, I'm sure, my overall confusion at the whole process.

Everything else was going relatively well, besides the fact that I was taking forever and a day to get through the store. I used to go shopping for my mom in high school, and I would be able to fly through the entire store in about 30 minutes. This time, my mom went to run some errands when she dropped me off, and when she returned about 30 minutes later, I had only gone through three aisles. It was a good thing she came because by the time I hit the produce section, I was pretty much useless.

Our produce section is at the back of the store, on the opposite side of the door you come in. The designed the store so that it is the last thing to go through before you check out. When we rounded the corner into this area of the store, my eyes were instantly grabbed by the abundance of brilliant colors bursting from every counter, stand, and cooler. There were SO MANY FRUITS AND VEGETABLES! I couldn't believe it! And they were all so brightly colored! Probably spray painted with dyes, but still, they were BEAUTIFUL! And everything was so BIG! After meandering around for a bit, I caught my eyes on an eggplant the size of my head! In Malawi, we had eggplant, every once in a while, but you were lucky if there were any bigger than your fist. It was unbelievable! I'm pretty sure my mom had to do the rest of the shopping. I think once I saw all of the varieties of fruits and vegetables, my mouth just dropped open, and I floated around the produce section with my eyes wide open trying to absorb the shiny, colorful, bigness of the genetically altered, hormonally infused produce before me. I found I didn't really care what they did to the food to make it that way--I was happily seduced by it's abundance and it's beauty.

I'm guessing that in some time, after my initial excitement to be back in the land of plenty wears off, I'll probably come face to face with the dramatic disparity between what we have here and what much of the rest of the world has. But until then, I think I'm just going to enjoy the bounty we have here. I don't think I'm ready yet to allow myself to acknowledge the inequality that I have had the opportunity to witness. I think if I did so now, I would just become angry and bitter about it, and I definitely don't think that would do anyone any good. It's true we have been blessed with abundance here in the US. But I don't think we are supposed to feel guilty about that. I do believe we should be joyful about it. And we should be grateful of it. And we should try to share it as fully as we can. As a culture, I'm not sure how well we are doing at any of those three things. But I think that is where we should focus our energy, and, when I'm ready, I think that's where I'm going to focus mine. To be joyful, grateful, and to share. It's funny that little kids are so skilled at doing those things which are so critical to a good life, while us grown ups fail pretty miserably at them so often. Let's take some lessons from the little ones.

And a funny little note to end with: After leaving the produce section, we made our way to the check out. While waiting in line for the check out, I wandered into the wine and alcohol aisle. I had a very similar, though slightly less pure-hearted, response in the alcohol aisle as I did in the produce section. I was excited and in awe of the abundance, variety, bigness, and colorfulness of all of the beverages. I wanted to take a taste of every one! Good thing I didn't, though! I definitely would have blacked-out before I even made it a quarter of the way through the aisle. In any case, I think the same thing goes for beverages like that: we should be grateful for them, joyful with them, and we should definitely share. :)

new title, new look, new journey

2009-03-30T22:23:00.003-05:00

As you can see, my blog has taken on a new look and a new title. These changes symbolize the transition from my African adventure to my new journey from here.

During my time in Malawi, I received a lot of compliments about my blogs, and I've been encouraged to continue writing by a lot of different people, so I'm going to try to give the people what they want. :) I've also found it to be a cool way to keep people updated on what's going on in my life, so that's another reason for keeping it going.

Though my new stories might not seem as exotic as experiences from a far away place, I hope you enjoy reading them, and as always, feel free to shoot me a line, leave me a comment, or share your own thoughts.

Thanks for sharing this journey with me.

Peace,
Andy

I'M HOME!

2009-03-24T08:56:00.002-05:00

I made it home to Chicago safely and soundly last Saturday around 3:30PM Chicago time. It's pretty exciting to be home, and I've already gotten to spend some great time with family and some of my best friends. The next couple of weeks also look to be filled with time with good friends and family, and I couldn't be more overjoyed. Being so far from home really helps you appreciate the true gift that home is.

I want to thank all of you for the prayers and support you have continued to share with me.

I'm not sure if I will continue writing on here, but I do feel I have some more things I can write about my experience in Africa. And then, beyond that, I think it would be interesting to continue writing about my experiences and where I go from here. So stay tuned in, and let's see where this crazy adventure of life leads next.

Coming Home

2009-03-19T11:01:00.002-05:00

I'm writing this from an internet cafe in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, so unfortunately, it will be much shorter than I'd like. Also, I had intended on writing this blog sooner, but the past few weeks have been a bit hectic, so I didn't have the chance to sit down and write something.

As many of you probably already know, but, unfortunately, as some of you don't know, I'm finishing up my time in Africa, and I'm coming home.

There are various reasons for my coming home, and if you're interested in hearing more about them, please feel free to contact me. Essentially, though, I found that being in Karonga, Malawi was not a match for me. At times, I had a really hard time being my true self there, and that was making things very difficult for me. Though the decision was very difficult to make because of all of the things I have fallen in love with in Malawi, I do believe this is the best decision with me, and I am excited to get back home where I can better find the things I need to thrive.

Thank you for all of your support over these months, and please keep me in your prayers as I enter into another new beginning.

Birth Control

2009-02-07T00:02:00.000-06:00

Birth control was not something I thought I would need when I made the decision to come to Africa. Boy, was I wrong. Birth control is something my community and I need quite desperately. Otherwise, we might have a bunch of little ones running around our house in a number of months. However, contrary to some of the local gossip, the birth control is not for us volunteers; it's for our dogs.

The Therese Volunteer Community has two very beautiful and friendly female dogs named Special (named after the popular Carlsburg beer here) and Teteza (means "Protection" in Chichewa). Though Teteza is still in her pre-teen years, we are expecting that quite soon, she'll be ready to start bearing offspring, and we do not want that to happen. Special, on the other hand, is in the prime of her life, and the guys in the neighborhood know it. About two months ago, Special was in heat, and we had every male dog in the Karonga area coming to see if Special wanted to "play." Right away we saw the intentions of these boys, so like any caring parent, we locked our little girl in the house and wouldn't let her go out at night. We also heard that we could go to the public hospital and pick up some expired birth control injections, which would still work on a dog. Several members of our community went to the hospital to inquire about the birth control, but none were successful. Luckily, keeping Special inside and throwing rocks at every male dog that even looked at our house kept her from getting pregnant. Unfortunately, from what I've been told, dogs go into heat about every 21 days until they become pregnant. So about three weeks ago, the boys started coming back around. Special hated being inside, and she would usually end up going to the bathroom in one of our rooms. Most often, it was the room where we store our food. She has a particular liking for peeing on our potatoes. We NEEDED to get some birth control for her.

We all made a commitment to go to the hospital and see if we could convince them to provide us with the injection. We have several friends who are nurses here who had already expressed willingness to inject Special once we got the injection.

About two weeks ago, Molly and I were heading into town to pick up some snacks for a party with the MIRACLE staff. On the way into town, the brothers had to stop at the hospital to check up on one of the students. As the brothers got out, I looked over to Molly and said, "Should we try to get the birth control." She looked back at me with a silly, somewhat hesitant smile. We both knew we needed to get it, and so we decided to go for it.

We walked into the hospital, giggling about what were were about to do, and found our way to the pharmacy. We knocked on the door, and after a few minutes, a receptionist of sorts came to the door. Molly explained that she was looking for some birth control and was wondering if she could get it there. The receptionist said she would have to get a pharmacist, so she went back to another room. A few minutes later a man came out to see what we needed. Molly explained again what she was looking for, this time using depoprovera, the name of the birth control injection. The pharmacist asked, "What do you need it for?" Both of us looked at each other confused, and Molly responded, "Birth control." The pharmacist knew that, so he tried again by asking, "Is it for service." Now slightly more confused, Molly and I looked at each other not knowing how to respond. "What do you mean," we asked. The he said, "Is it for service or personal use?" Aha! We still didn't know what service meant, but personal use sounded like it was what we wanted so we went with that. (One of the volunteers before had explained that we wanted to use it on our dog, and they said that wasn't allowed, so we were avoiding that explanation.)

The pharmacist said that we would have to see someone else about that, so he told us to follow him. He brought us back outside the hospital and led us toward the maternity ward. He pointed to a woman in blue who was standing in front of a long line of women with their babies, and she was weighing each of the babies. Neither of us wanted to interrupt this woman's work just so we could get birth control for our dog, but we decided just to ask her where we should go, and see what happens from there.

The nurse led us inside the small building she was working outside of. When we walked in, we found ourselves in a narrow hallway crowded with women standing and sitting in all open spaces, waiting for someone to respond to whatever their particular needs were. The nurse had us follow her to a door marked "Family Planning," and knocked on the door. The door opened, and the nurse instructed Molly to go in. Not wanting to leave Molly alone in some little room in a public hospital in Malawi, I followed Molly inside. We found three nurses in the little room. They greeted us and then asked us how they could help us. Molly explained what she was looking for once again, and the nurses looked at us both with questioning eyes. One of the first questions the main nurse asked while pointing to me was, "Is this your husband?" Molly looked at me, smiled and giggled a little bit, and responded "Yeah!" Her tone suggested more of a, "Sure, he can be my husband if that's what you're looking for." Malawi is a deeply Christian country and to say that the two of us weren't married would be a good way not to get birth control. The two of us shouldn't be having sex if we weren't married. This is very true, but we couldn't tell them that the birth control was for our dog. I remained mostly silent for all of this.

The nurses laughed and smiled a bit, one of them making some kind of joke in Chitumbuka from what I could pick up from nonverbals. Then, the main nurse asked Molly a number of questions:
Nurse: "Do you have a baby now?"
Molly: "No"
Nurse: "Do you want a baby now?"
Molly: "No"
Nurse: "When do you think you would like a baby?"
Molly: "...Uuhhhh...I don't know...mmm...5 years?"
Nurse: "Why don't you want a baby now?"
Molly: "We're not ready yet."
Nurse: "So you want to practice family planning"
Molly: "Yes."
[The nurse pauses, smiles, and looks up at me.]
Me: [In a very confident and self confirming voice] "Family planning is important."

Molly just about burst into laughter at my ridiculous comment, but she did a good job of containing it. I giggled a bit after I realized how silly that response was, and I'm laughing now as I write about it. The nurse looked at me as if I was brainless.

The nurse saw that we were looking for birth control, that we didn't want to have a baby, and that we wanted to practice family planning. Both Molly and I agreed afterward that the nurse knew we weren't married, and we figured they saw that we were just excited to try to get birth control, which means they probably thought we were doing you-know-what.

Finally, the nurse agrees to get us the birth control. Success! Or so we thought. The nurses exit the room, leaving Molly and I to laugh about what had just transpired, what we got ourselves in the middle of, and how to go about the rest of the situation. We even came up with alias names so that it would be harder for anyone to identify us. We decided on Desmond and Molly Jones, inspired by the characters in Obladi Oblada by the Beatles.

Soon after, the door opened again, and the main nurse returned with a box of the birth control injection. After setting the box down, the nurse immediately went for the windows and began closing them, probably to provide some privacy. Molly and I glanced at each other with frightened looks, knowing what that meant. Quickly, we both spoke up, "Uhh! We...have a question!"

We explained to the nurse that we have a friend who is a nurse and we were hoping that we would be able to take the injection home so that our friend could give the injection. We told her that Molly was a little nervous about getting the injection and so she wanted the comfort of having a friend do the injection. The nurse was a little bit confused so we explained it again. Once she realized we were asking to simply take the injection with us, she told us that they only do the injection there and they can't allow someone to just take it. Disappointed, we decided we had pursued this as far as it goes. We told the nurse that we weren't comfortable enough and that we would come again later. We then both ran out of the office, out of the maternity ward, and back towards the car, laughing, giggling, and smiling about what we had just done. We're curious still about what kind of news about this event will spread. As we were walking away from the maternity ward, Molly heard someone call her name. She works with many women in the villages through the Women's Empowerment Program, so it's a good chance that one of those woman were in line and saw the two of us coming out of the Family Planning office. Hopefully, they didn't infer what we were doing there, but if they did, and if word gets back around to our places of work, we'll probably have some explaining to do. The positive thing is that all of our co-workers know that we don't want anymore litters of puppies, and they know the lengths to which we have gone to try to prevent Special's pregnancy. As ridiculous as it is, it won't sounds too uncharacteristic for us to explain to them that we were trying to getting birth control for our dog.

:) Where else could I get into something like this? :)

A little on the brighter side

2009-01-31T01:00:00.006-06:00

Recently, many of my posts have been pretty heavy. And let's be honest, sometimes, that heaviness just gets to be too much. And honestly, though this past week has brought some twists, turns, and troubles I wasn't necessarily anticipating, there are many things starting to look up. AND THAT IS GREAT NEWS!

So some things from the past week. We celebrated Chaminade day here at Chaminade Mission on Friday, January 23rd. Traditionally, Marianist Institutions celebrate a day in honor of Chaminade on January 22nd, the day of Chaminade's death. For practical reasons, we moved it to Friday. The day was filled with great fun and sharing. Our goal in planning this day was to bring the different parts of Chaminade Mission more closely together. There are three schools running on this campus: Chaminade Boarding School, Chaminade Open School, and MIRACLE Technical College. From what we've heard and observed, these three schools haven't spent much time interacting in the past few years, and there has been a clear space between students, staff, and members of each of the schools. We aimed Chaminade Day to be a day to bring all of this people together under the Family Spirit inspired by Chaminade.

The day went quite wonderfully, starting with small groups (we called them families) facilitated by various members of staff from each of the school and including a generous mixture of students from different grade levels, different schools, and different classes. The family time was followed by a skit and talk about Chaminade. The skit was quite hilarious; we've got some real characters here. Then we started a variety show with a number performed by us volunteers and the Marianist brothers. Molly, Sarah, and I choreographed a dance, which we then practiced with the brothers. We used the song ABC, by Michael Jackson, and it was a BLAST! We then shared Mass, all ate lunch together, dance in a disco, and ended the day with a football match between the two schools. Aside from a few gliches, and the fact that all of us volunteers were absolutely worn out, the day was a HUGE success. We are all looking forward to next year when we can get the teachers and staff more intimately involved in all of the activities.

Then, on Saturday, all of us volunteers wanted to cut loose a little bit so we went out to Planet K dot A, the dance club here in Karonga, and danced the night away. We all were pretty tired, so we didn't want to stay too far past midnight, but we didn't have to try to hard to cut the night off. Planet K dot A has mirrors on all of the walls, and a number of the mirrors are a little bit broken. In the euphoric state I usually find myself in when dancing, I failed to take enough caution and put enough distance between myself and one of the broken mirrors. With one quick shimmy, a thrust-filled shake, and a passionate swing of my arms, my elbow made direct contact with the corner of one of the broken mirrors. About 30 minutes earlier, Molly had done the same thing, but since she isn't quite as passionate of a dancer as I, her injury was not much more than a paper cut. I on the other hand, had gouged a chunk of my elbow skin out an was bleeding profusely. Consequently, our night of dancing was over, and we fled the scene before I could get my blood on anyone (minus the man who grabbed my forearm because he was upset that I had stopped dancing). All in all, it was a really fun night, and my cut isn't really that bad. I will have a cool scar to tell people I got from dancing, but it's not anything that a standard band aid can't cover well.

Then this week, four of the six community members in my house went down to Lilongwe, the capital of Malawi. As a result, Kat and I were holding down the fort, and after our first one-on-one romantic dinner we thought it'd be really cool to have dinner with our cooks and their families. Our hope was to bring food over to their house and cook with them, but they expressed to us that they were "not ready" so we respected that. They did say, however, that they would be interested in coming to our house to make dinner with Kat and I, and they each brought one of their children: Speeway, who is Vicky's 7 year old daughter, and Tumpale, who is Alick's 2 year old son. They are both absolutely adorable, and it was such a joy to have small children in our house! We made a Vikcy's favorite meal, fish with cassava flour, and had a wonderful meal together. Kat and I walked them all home, and it was a great time of sharing with them. They are becoming more and more like family to me, so much so, that I don't think I can say much longer that they are like family--they are family to me. It was a great night, and the stars were absolutely beautiful to walk home under. (Oh! And don't tell the Malawian Aviation Department, but I walked across an airport runway for the first time in my life! Alick and Vicky live on the other side of the airport and we cut across the runway because doing otherwise takes at least twice as long!)

And finally, yesterday we invited all of MIRACLE staff over to our house for a social. MIRACLE has had a lot of stress going on, a lot of changes going on, and a lot of frustrations and difficulties. Going into yesterday, we weren't fully sure if all of the stress at MIRACLE would be a damper on the social, or if the social was going to be just the right thing for this time. The second proved to be true! We welcomed almost 20 or 30 members of staff to our house, and for many of them, it was the first time they were in our house, invited as guest, and as equals to us. We share minerals (soft drinks), popcorn, biscuits (cookies), and ground nuts with them. There were some board games played, much chatting, and even a good bit of dancing! By the end of the night, it was clear that all felt welcome and had enjoyed themselves. I must say our volunteer community did a great job of intermixing with all the different members of staff, moving around and chatting with everyone. It was also really cool to see the teaching staff, the support staff, and our voulunteer community intermingling so well. At the end of the night Sarah and I drove anyone home who needed it, and it was clear that it had been a great event. It set up an awesome precedent for future events, and we are excited about the prospect of bringing the MIRACLE and Chaminade staffs together with this type of event. Maybe even nicest of all, I got to have two awesome conversations with two of the women on staff at MIRACLE. Both are a good bit older than me, both have families and children, and both definitely have much more life experience than me. One of the challenges I've been facing here is figuring out how to interact and relate with people who are older than me, from a different culture than me, and who seem to have such different life experiences from me. Last night, I found ways to connect with both of these women, and I felt that I was finally starting to breach the gap between being a mere acquaintance with them into having more of a friendship with them. It was wonderful!

So all in all, it was a beautiful week! There are still some things within my community that are a bit tricky, and might only be getting trickier to deal with, but this week was also a new beginning for that in a number of ways. There are definitely going to be things that are very challenging for me to deal with, but I think there is great hope in what's ahead.

A few weeks ago, I think I mentioned that I felt like the dawn was starting to bring light to thigns around me, but that the sun had not yet shown itself. I don't want to jump the gun on saying this, but I think the sun might be showing a little sliver of itself as it's working it's way out from behind the mountains before me. I think the morning is here; it's time to start this new day.

Not yet...

2009-01-26T08:19:00.004-06:00

So I'm not out of the stormy waters just yet. However, I do think I'm getting a better understanding of the things that are lifting me up and the things that are pulling me down. Now, it will be a matter of minimizing the experiences with the things that pull me down and maximizing the experiences that lift me up. It's hard, though, because I'm not exactly sure what minimizing the experiences with the things that pull me down means. Does it mean avoiding those things all together, trying to ignore them, trying to reconcile them, or something else. I've done a pretty good job increasing the experiences of things that lift me up, but when you still have some big things pulling you down, it feels like whenever you take one step up, you get pulled two steps back down.

There have been at least four or five times in the past three weeks when I've been overwhelmed and exhausted by the instability of all this and of myself. I've wanted to just come home and not have to fight to keep my balance here. However, the thing that is keeping me going is my belief that great beauty can come from great pain. And that beauty will never come if I just pack my bags and call it quits. I do believe that I'm being presented with an opportunity to transform my ability to love, my view of myself, my view of others, and my view of God. I just wish this transformation wouldn't take so long, and I wish I had a better idea of how to respond to the challenges being presented. At times, I'm overwhelmed with feelings of being lost and alone, and I am continually doubting and questioning myself.

Last night, with the help of an overseas friend, I came up with a small game plan for my next step. To be honest, I have no idea how it is going to go or if it's even the step I should be taking. Additionally, after this attempt, I'm not sure what other options there are for me. I'm just so tired of all this. I want to get back to being the regular me who feels comfortable, confident, secure, loved, and excited about life.

Sing

2009-01-20T04:02:00.002-06:00

I mentioned in a previous post that I joined the Church choir for Mass on Sundays. This has proven to be EXTREMELY uncomfortable at times, particularly when I don't know any of the Chitumbuka words that are being sung. It's also pretty uncomfortable during meetings when they talk about me. This last week, they talked about how I wasn't at the practice on Saturday. Then the choir director defended me because I was there at the time that the practice was supposed to start but no one else was there, and that is why I missed the practice. All of that was in Chitumbuka. Then later on in the meeting, one of the members gave a speech about how "we all should be helping Andy since he doesn't know the songs." He then talked about those in the choir who are struggling should find a buddy to listen to so that we can better learn the songs. These moments are weird, awkward for me, and uncomfortable. But then, there are the moments where we are just singing. There are the handful of songs for which I've learned the words and the harmonies. And there are the songs to which I can dance right in line with the choir members next to me. Those moments are the moments I'm singing for. The moments when the person next to me, African, black, not as educated, not as wealthy, is just the same as me. Those moments when I can show them and myself that underneath my American clothes and beneath my Muzungu skin, we are just the same. We both were created by God, we both love God, and we both want to sing and live for God. What else is there better to do in these moments than sing?

This Friday our Chaminade campus is celebrating Chaminade day. We will be having a grand Mass with all the students from MIRACLE, Chaminade Boarding, and Chaminade Open Schools. A joint choir has been created, and I'm also singing with this choir. The practices we have had so far have reached moments in which the Holy Spirit is visibly and audibly present in the movements, expressions, and voices of the choir. It rocks.

And finally, to commemorate the inauguration of President Barack Obama, Molly and I sang our National Anthem to the entire MIRACLE community during this morning's assembly. I thought it was really fun, and the students and staff seemed to be thouroughly entertained by us two white people singing our national anthem partly out of tune because we have a new president today. As goofy as we might have looked or sounded, it's moments like that that make life wonderful. Life may bring us all kinds of troubles and difficulties, but if you can still smile, if you can still sing, and if you can still dance, what else do you need?

Just open your heart and sing.

Healing; getting back to being ALIVE

2009-01-15T09:13:00.000-06:00

So things still aren’t perfect. There are still things that bother me and upset me. But I’m trying to move on. I’m tired of thinking about and talking about the dark sides of life. I’ve been spending too much time on that, and I haven’t been spending enough time on actually being alive. I’m finding I just need to let go of those things that are bothering me. Holding onto them has just been pulling me down. I think that is how evil gets us. It uses our own stubbornness and pride against us. We just need to let go of it, move on, and look at all of the good in this life, even if only as tiny as a butterfly. This is where I think healing happens: letting go of the dark, and focusing in on even the smallest bit of light.

Today was a national holiday in Malawi for a Malawian man named John Chilembwe who fought against the British rule. He was the first person to stand up against the evil rule controlling Malawi to fight for freedom, and he sounds like he was a pretty sweet dude. In honor of him, there was no work or school today, so our volunteer community decided to go to the lake for the day. Though things in my community aren’t exactly smooth, and there are still some things that I’m struggling to deal with, it proved to be a very good day.

When we arrived to the lake, there were about 30-40 Malawians, mostly children and mothers on the area of the beach we went to. I was excited about this because I still need some space between myself and some of my community members; all these other people gave me lots of opportunity to interact with someone other than the five people in my house.

On my way into the water, I greeted one of the boys who was by himself and looked a little bit older, maybe about 10 or so. After diving in, I came back out of the water to grab one of the balls we brought. I asked the 10 year-old boy if he would like to play with me. His face lit up with a magnificent smile, and almost instantly he started walking towards the water with his hands in a ready position for my throw. We tossed it back and forth 20 times or so, and I noticed about five or six more boys swimming their way over to us. I asked Anuswe if his friends wanted to play; they did. For the next hour or so, we played various forms of catch, from throwing the ball back and forth, with me saying each of their names so that I could learn them, to trying to hit the ball up in the air like a volleyball set from one person to the next to see how many people could hit the ball up before we lost control of it; i-t w-a-s a b-l-a-s-t! Eventually, without the energy of a 10 year-old, I started to get a little tired. I backed off a bit and let them all play with the ball. Then, wanting to add something new into the fun, I found Anuswe and asked him if he knew how to do a flip out of the water. Though he nodded his head with affirmation, I wasn’t sure he knew what I was talking about. I tried to speak clear English and explain to him to put his feet in my hands and then, on the count of three, I would throw him up into the air to do a back flip. He got in the ready position, and I counted: O-n-e….t-w-oo-oo-oo….THREE! Anuswe went flying up into the air, almost instinctively doing a perfect backflip landing his feet straight down in the water. I’m pretty sure the huge grin on my face was only half as big as the beaming smile that blasted from Anuswe’s face as he emerged from the water. For the next half hour, I flipped Anuswe and all of his friends to their hearts’ delight.

Though it was nothing really that grand or special, or deep, or profound, playing with those boys was positive, and it was happy, and it was joyful. It was very simple, and it was very good. It helped me to appreciate the simple wonder of this life we live, something I have been neglecting far too much for far too long. I felt alive today, and it was good.

This Is Hard

2009-01-12T13:38:00.000-06:00

So this isn’t that easy. The pain of loneliness I sometimes feel is an overwhelming weight to bear. At times, I wonder what I’m doing here in Malawi. Why am I going through all of this just to be here?

Well, I felt called here. I felt there was some reason for me to come here. I still believe that; it’s just that I don’t yet see that reason. Maybe I will never see it. But I do believe it’s there. And I believe that the pain I’m feeling right now is a cross that is ripping open my heart, stretching it in a way that it never has been. Let me tell you, it hurts to be pulled like this. I really do have a hope, though, that all of this work is for something. I do believe that this stretching and pulling that hurts so much will leave my heart bigger than ever. I have hope that I will be able to share more love with the world after coming through this challenge successfully.

I can’t half-ass it, though. I have to pour my whole heart into it. It’s just so hard to open my heart up to new things when it still wants to cling so tightly onto old things. It’s a burning conflict in my heart, and I’m looking forward to the day when I rise above it. I just hope that day comes soon.

Time To Change

2009-01-11T09:34:00.000-06:00

So this week went pretty well. It definitely did not go without its fair share of stumbling blocks, and it also brought to the very forefront one of the most challenging leaps of faith I’ve ever faced. (When you see what that challenge is, you’ll see that the leaps of faith I’ve made in the past haven’t been that challenging. Nonetheless, this has been probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to let go of and put full trust in God.) In addition to that deep leap of faith, this week also brought a sense of peace that I haven’t since I was back in the States.

Last weekend I quite an experience in meeting the owner of a lakeside lodge/hotel who invited us to come visit him at his place, only to find he had his workers prepare a magnificent buffet of fish, chicken, and steak. We ate the dinner on a white-table cloth table, set out with fine china, on the beach looking out at the lake, which pears across to the mountains of southern Tanzania. The sun set behind us as we ate the dinner. As dinner finished, the owner began instructing one of his waiters to bring various drinks to our table and encouraged us to partake, “all on the house.” It got to the point where we said we had to drive home, so we could only take so much. It was at that point that he invited us to stay in some of his open rooms and to feel free to stay till the next morning. We took him up on it and had an enjoyable rest of the night. I had a lot of fun relaxing and hanging out with my community members. It was also really interesting to interact with this hotel owner who comes from a very wealthy family that is Malawi-born.

My weekend experience didn’t exactly end on a great note, though. I ended up getting very frustrated and jealous, and I got down on myself for feeling so. It took some conversations Sunday night and Monday night to get myself out of it. The conversation Monday night was intense, serious, scary, challenging, and ugly. As scary and ugly as it was, the resolutions I came away from it with are ones that I think I needed more than anything.

One of the major resolutions I came away with is that I can’t spend so much time focusing on, thinking about, and talking about the negative things I’m experiencing. I’ve been dwelling far too much on the things that bother me, the things that disappoint me, the things that frustrate me, the things that make me jealous, the things that make me feel bad about myself, and all of the other negative thoughts and feelings that have been rolling around in my head. I realized through some very honest and very challenging conversation that I’ve spent so much time thinking about and talking about the negative that I haven’t left room for living life. It was so hard to swallow, but it is true. And I’m tired of living that way. I want to be full of life again and rid of all this negativity. So, one of my new year resolutions is to dive full fledge into life. My new focus is on the people and activities that I can get involved with here. My goal is to come alive and be alive in every moment that I possibly can. I’ve wasted too much of the past five months being frustrated, feeling worthless, feeling lonely, feeling disrespected, feeling unwanted, and feeling insecure. I’m tired of it, and it’s time to change.

This past week, I’ve started with two wonderful things that are already giving me life. I’ve started a dance group at MIRACLE, one that I wish to also start and combine with Chaminade, and we had our first gathering and dance practice. It was a blast and totally life-giving! The second thing I got involved with is the choir at the Mass I go to each week here at Chaminade. One thing you should know is that the entire Mass is in vernacular: Chitumbuka. This means the songs too! Though I didn’t know the words to some of the songs, I could sing quickly enough with only a few of the songs, and I knew the meaning of virtually none of the songs, I loved it. I loved just being able to sing with people again, I loved how in just one day I already feel like I can hear and speak the language a good bit better, and I loved how I was mixed right in the midst with the people who live around me. I haven’t had enough of that last one at all during my time here. My hope is I can keep these positive things going, I can get involved with more positive things, and through all of these positive things, I can begin establishing the positive relationships I have been starved of during the past five months.

One of the other resolutions I came up with as a result of that ugly Monday night conversation is my need to stop focusing so much on just a few or just one relationship here. I’ve made a commitment to let go a bit of the relationships I’ve been depending on to make room for some new relationships that I haven’t been investing much into. As scary as it is to consciously decide to let go of the most supportive relationships I’ve had during my time here, I fully believe this is what I need. And as much as I don’t want to allow for some space in those relationships that I want to be closer than any other relationships, I have felt quite clearly called to do so. I think this is what I need right now. And luckily, in talking with those it affects, I have confidence that my relationships with them will remain. It’s just scary to let go of something you’ve been holding onto so tightly.

Lastly, I want to share with all of you the power of faith I have witnessed throughout this experience. For those of you who have known me, I’ve had a relatively strong faith since at least high school. Through this experience, I have been challenged to embrace that faith in a way I never have before, and I have been called to open myself to God more than I thought my spirit was able to do, more than I thought I’d ever be asked to. For the past few months, my spirit has been dead and dying. Now, I’m trying to place my trust more fully in God, and as scary as it is, as painful as it is, as difficult as it is, I do believe it will lead to new life. Though I’ve been in so much pain these past few months, by trying to let go of that pain and embrace what I know as love, I believe I am coming into a new life that is beyond the beauty of anything I’ve known. I praise God for the beauty and life that can grow out of this sometimes ugly, dark, and lonely world.

I’m going to end this here so that I can get back to being alive here. But before I go, I want to thank, once again, all of you who have extended your words of encouragement, shoulders (even if only virtual) to lean on, and prayers for renewal. This experience has been extremely difficult for me, but the encouragement, support, and prayers I have received are why I believe I’m beginning to come into the light. For this, I cannot thank you enough.

Thank you.

Thank you

2009-01-06T01:39:00.002-06:00

Though the struggle is not over and is probably far from it, I cannot thank all of you who have extended your support to me through simple messages and prayers. It's not easy at all to put yourself out there, to let others know how you really feel and how your really are. In fact, it was scary as hell, and I've never felt more vulnerable. At the same time, I feel it is exactly what I need. In some ways, I think it's exactly what we all need. I think we all spend too much time being afraid to be who we really are, flaws, inadequacies, imperfections and all. And by doing so, by being afraid to be who we really are, problems and all, we limit the intimacy we are able to share with people.

So thank you. Thank you for letting me be me, and for responding to me openly and honestly, with care and with challenge.

I haven't yet reached the light of day, but thanks to many of you, at least the sun is starting to rise.

An Honest, Even If Ugly, Update

2009-01-03T00:52:00.000-06:00

[I wrote this blog on New Year's Day.]

Before you read this blog, I want to warn you that it is more personal than any of the other blogs I have written. This blog also strays from the upbeat topics that I have typically written about during my time here in Malawi. If you aren’t interested in reading a reflection and description of some of the personal challenges I’ve been facing, please feel free to skip this blog.

Though I would prefer to avoid any potential pity posed by writing about the serious struggles I’m facing, I feel that it would be a lie to anyone who reads my blog to continue posting about things like trips to the bore hole, or encounters with snakes, or any of the other intriguing experiences of living in Africa without first acknowledging the severe difficulties that have become entangled in every moment of my time here. This blog will acknowledge those difficulties. Also, this blog will hopefully open me up to continue writing about my experiences here, difficulties and all. In truth, part of the reason I have not written any blogs in the past two months is because I haven’t known how to write about the various things I’m doing here without including the negative things I’ve been feeling here.

While most of my blogs probably don’t indicate it, I’ve really been struggling here. For the past five months, I’ve been immersed in a continuous struggle that has only become more challenging as the months have gone by. The struggle began with the mere adjustment to a new place, to being away from home, my family, and my friends. As I look back, that part of the struggle was a cake-walk compared with where I am now. The next part of my struggle stemmed from the difficulty I have had in developing relationships with people here. I couldn’t seem to connect or relate with my co-workers, and the behavior script set by the staff here discouraged any type of personal interaction between students and teachers; for example, chatting between students and teachers was explicitly identified as “dangerous,” and we were directed to maintain “social distance” at all times. This was not the place for someone who not only thrives on, but survives on personal relationships with people. The challenge then continued with my volunteer community, which has continually struggled with not only establishing a common mission, purpose, and vision for our presence here, but has more intensely struggled with establishing a common respect for the individuals who make up this community. We have struggled to get along, to say the least, and have failed to support one another, to say some more. From there, my struggle has only gotten more complicated, more personal, and more debilitating.

When I made the decision to move myself to the other side of the world for two years, I expected that where I was going, I would find things that fed me, nurtured me, excited me, and sustained me. Instead, I’ve only found things that drain me, frustrate me, and hurt me. I also expected to find a purpose for my presence here. I expected to find the value of a university educated, American, 22-year old coming to serve one of the economically poor populations on the planet. Instead, I have failed to find a purpose and value of my presence. Furthermore, I haven’t even found a meaningful way to serve the people I meet here. Since I’ve barely even had any meaningful interaction with people here, how in the world could I be serving them? With this lack of purpose, absence of value, and failure to serve, I’ve felt virtually worthless here, beginning shortly after my two month mark here, at which point I finally got my feet on the ground. Since then, I’ve only felt more and more useless and more and more disappointed in myself. After all, I am a very capable person, so why shouldn’t I be able to identify some purpose to my presence here? Why shouldn’t I be able to see the value of me being here? Why can’t I find ways to offer myself to others? Why am I not fed, nurtured, excited, or sustained by anything I’m involved with here? Why am I so discontent with everything?

These disappointing questions have only led me to get more and more down on myself. Without the academic success I’ve enjoyed my entire life, and without the numerous meaningful clubs, organizations, and groups I’ve been a part of over the years, I’ve become more insecure about myself than I have ever been in my life. This insecurity has led me to doubt almost everything I have believed to be true about myself and has caused me to become more selfish and jealous than I’ve ever been in my life. It has gotten to such a point that I now become angry with the two best friends I have here when they spend time together or do something together. I’m jealous of their relationship, and I feel as if I’m in competition to be close with them. The fact that I’m jealous only leads me to further disappointment in myself. And that disappointment in myself has led me to easily become frustrated with those around me, especially my community members. All of these things are uncharacteristic of who I’ve always thought I am, and I’m now finding myself question whether I really am who I thought I was. This leads to even more disappointment in myself, that I can’t continue being the person I want to be, the person I believe me to be. I’ve gotten so frustrated with the fact that I’m not succeeding here, that I’m not even getting by, that I’m struggling to even merely be me. With all of these things, my mood has been dark and down, at best. My attitude has been beyond negative. And my actions have been void of the energy, love, joy, and spirit that make me feel alive. I’ve been broken. I felt dead.

There are probably more details I could describe about the intense mental, emotional, and relational mess I’ve been in. But I think, by this point, I’ve made the picture clear.

About two weeks ago, a week or so before Christmas, I hit an absolute low, or at least, the lowest I’ve ever felt. Thankfully, my friend Molly was here and able to help lift me up. She also allowed me to honestly acknowledge the struggle I’m facing. She sat, and listened, and allowed me to bring to surface the mess I’m in; she enabled me to get this mess out from inside of me. I do believe it is because of her, and because of the guiding words of a few dear friends, that I’m able to write about these things here. Again, I would prefer not to broadcast this internal struggle for the whole world to read; I don’t like the pity it calls forth, and I don’t like the burden it places on others. I also don’t like admitting that I’m flawed, that something isn’t okay with me. I’d rather not let the world know that I feel messed up emotionally and mentally. I’d also rather not let the world see that maybe I don’t only feel messed up, but that maybe I really am messed up. However, I am pretty sure that I’m not the only person in the world to have gone through something like this; I’m not the only person to have felt these things. I’m also pretty sure that what makes a situation like this go from bad to horrible is when the person in the situation holds everything inside, and doesn’t seek help. So maybe, just maybe, by sharing this part of my story, I will enable someone else to feel free to talk about what they’re feeling, even if it’s ugly, and even if they don’t want anybody else to see it. In my experience…in this experience…things only get worse when you hold onto it all by your self.

Two days ago, I hit another rock bottom. I was jealous and angry at my two best friends for doing something together, for being happy while doing it, and for doing it without me. The blatant selfishness of those feelings drove me even deeper into disgust of myself. However, I’m quite sure that if it weren’t for one of those best friends, I would have already self-destructed in depression. The fight is not over for me, and this morning, as Molly and I continued to discuss what I’m going through, we began to consider whether I’d be better able to fight this fight back home; or maybe more accurately, we began to consider whether staying here will only continue suffocating me. The thought of going home without living through this experience scares me. I have no doubt that doing so would only increase my feelings of disappointment, lack of confidence, and feelings of jealousy, guilt, and failure. But if staying here continues to kill my spirit the way it has for these past five months, I need to take that option. I can’t stay here and continue to suffocate. Right now, the option of going home is on the table for me. But I’m not taking that option yet.

Today was a new day; it’s a new month; a new year. And, perhaps providentially, I woke up early this morning, and I could not fall back asleep. My soul was too unsettled to slumber. By God’s Grace, I looked outside my window to see a sky hinting of magic. Tired and worn down, I decided I needed sleep more than a pretty sky. Fifteen minutes passed, and my mind, body, and soul still sat unsettled. I decided to get up. Maybe a peaceful sunrise would be a good start to this new year. I put on some pants and laced up my shoes, grabbed my camera, and walked out the door. When I reached a clearing that allowed my eyes to absorb the scene above me, I found myself staring at a sky stirring with vibrant pinks, fiery oranges, and bottomless blues. I have n-e-v-e-r witnessed a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g as BEAUTIFUL as what my eyes found above me; it W-A-S beauty.

I believe I have hit a point of brokenness where I have nowhere but up to go. The only question lies in my openness to allow God’s love for me fill my heart and set me back to flight. My hope is to do that here, in Malawi, so that I can come home to the US in a year and a half telling a story of a death resurrected to a new and brilliant life, very much like the dark night last night burst into a brilliant day this morning. However, I won’t let this situation crush me. Yes; this is a new year and a new start. And with the start of this new academic year here at Chaminade, there is great potential for me to get up off the ground and set my wings to flight. But, if I find myself still starving for life in a month or so, I can’t stay. I will have to go home, and I will have to find a way to let God heal me, restore me, and bring me back to life there. That is not my hope, but if I must, I must.

For you, who have taken the time to read this, and who have shared your care and compassion with me, THANK YOU; as my housemate Kat said to me today, there is no way for someone to get out of a situation like this without the help of another human being—there is no substitute for the support of another. By reading this, you have given me support. All I ask more of you is for your prayers. I’ve been surrounded and consumed by a lot of darkness lately; any petitions for light to come into my life might just be transformational for me. I also ask that if you ever feel feelings like some of the ones I have described above, please find someone you can talk to freely about them; there is no substitute for the support of another.

Thank you for supporting me.

Love,
Andy

Jump Start

2008-12-28T07:43:00.003-06:00

So...I think part of the reason that I have had trouble posting on here is because I've wanted to write blogs about a lot of the things that I've experienced and done over the past two months or so that I've been absent. I've decided that is a silly plan, and isn't going to work because there is too much that has happened, and I'm much too verbose in my writing to effectively write about all of the things that have gone on over the past month. So instead, I'm going to try to jump start my blog writing by posting a bullet point list of things that I've experienced/done/saw over the past two months. Here goes nothing. Hopefully, posting will resume a once-to-twice a week basis from this date on. The following are the titles of my blogs had I written them.

*11/21/08-Invigilation
*11/23/08-Roofing Grass and Manure
*11/25/08-Community Breather
*11/26/08-Finished Shelf
*11/28/08-Thanksgiving!
*11/28/08-MIRACLE On Break
*11/29/08-Madame Longwe: a wonderful woman
*11/30/08-Sofas!
*12/2/08-Carpentry and Joinery
*12/5/08-The Shack
*12/7/08-"Redecorating"
*12/8/08-One Year as an Ember
*12/9/08-Hopes and Expectations Unmet
*12/13/08-A Slimy Pit of Mud and Mire
*12/17/08-Screen doors, not quite yet
*12/19/08-Kayie: Chitimba's little greeter
*12/20/08-"COME PLAY!!!"
*12/21/08-"Wash the dishes, dry the dishes, have a cup of tea!"
*12/22/08-A weekend away at the Beach
*12/23/08-Homesick; to the fullest extent
*12/24/08-At home with the fam, via Skype
*12/24/08-A 5 hour Christmas Eve Mass, in Tumbuka! Yikes!
*12/26/08-Christmas Joy
*12/27/08-Spirit Finally Dreaming Again

Long Time Gone!!!

2008-12-15T09:31:00.002-06:00

Hey Everyone! That is, if anyone is still checking this thing!

Sorry I've been gone for so long! Things picked up a bit as Chaminade and MIRACLE came to a close, so I didn't have as much time to type up blogs. Then, our internet antennae was struck by lightning and our router got fried. It took at least a week or two to get the net back up and running, and now our connection is slower than ever; maybe this is finally a little bit more like what people think of when you tell them you're moving to a little town in the middle of Africa.

Anyways, I hope to start producing blogs again and staying in touch with all of you. It's strange, but writing the blogs makes me feel a bit more connected with everyone back home, even when I don't know who is reading it or if anyone is reading it. I'll try to write a summary blog of the past month or so to catch you all up. As most of you know, I struggle with concision, but I really will try to keep this month summary short. Check back here in a few days to see how well I did with it.

Love you and miss you,
Andy

Another Water Adventure

2008-11-18T01:53:00.000-06:00

Our water is still out, not making it up into our tank, and therefore, not making it into our house. The builders of our summer hut need a good bit of water for the cement each day, so what little water we’ve had has gotten eaten up pretty well. Last night, Matt determined that we would need to go to the bore hole and get water for the next day. We would need to use the brothers’ truck, so we offered to get them water as well, and we needed water for drinking and cooking too. This big job called for us to borrow the school’s massive 1000 Liter container, so we called the boarding master and made sure it was okay for us to borrow it. “No problem,” he said.

Matt and I made plans to leave after our community meeting which we said would end at 9PM. Shortly after 9, we went over to the brothers, hopped in the truck, and headed over to the kitchen to load up the container. When we got there, however, we found that the container was half full, making it practically impossible to move!

We decided on a plan of action to go back home, grab all our big buckets, and then proceed to empty the massive container by dipping buckets into the top and pulling the buckets out like we would from a well. I found some rubber bungee cord in the truck and quickly mastered the skill of throwing the bucket down into the container and pulling a full bucket back up. After filling up a few large containers in the back of the truck, Matt asked if I needed a break, and I took him up on it. On Matt’s second attempt, I heard a plop followed by an “Oh, crap!” I looked at Matt and he sheepishly responded, “I let go of the cord, and so the bucket is stuck down there.” Okay, that’s understandable, I thought. I pulled a metal rod out of the truck and used it to fish for the bucket. I gave it back to Matt, and he went back to pulling up the water. About four buckets later I hear, “Shit!” as Matt starts to laugh. Before I even looked at him, I knew he had let go of the cord again. He was holding a flashlight in one of his hands, and when he threw the bucket down, he grabbed onto the small string hanging from the flashlight. Unfortunately, that string had nothing to do with the bucket, and our fetching pail was once again floating at the bottom of the huge container, well out of arm’s reach.

“You’re fired,” I nonchalantly told him.

I pulled the bucket back up, and finished emptying the container myself. I did find the humor in Matt’s mistakes, and we chuckled about it as I pulled up the last few buckets.

At some point during all of this, we saw the Headmaster walking over with is flashlight. The sound of the bucket hitting the water made a loud plop, so we figured he had heard the noise from his house and came over to investigate. He asked us what we were doing, we explained the story, and then he said “Okay,” walking away, probably thinking we were crazy Muzungus with some crazy idea.

After we got the water level down low enough, we decided to see if we could get the container into the back of the truck. With the help of the night watchmen, who did an excellent job of watching us two Muzungus make fools of our self throughout the process, we heaved the container up into the back of the truck. Alright, we were ready to go!

We saw the large lid to the container sitting on the ground, and, though we had never seen it used, we thought it wouldn’t hurt to put it on the lid. Matt hopped up into the truck bed, and I lifted the lid up to him. He tried unsuccessfully to put the lid on for a few minutes, and then all of a sudden, I heard the lid sliding and looked up in just enough time to see the massive lid fall into the giant container. Matt, myself, and the night watchmen all broke into hysterical laughing. Best of all, the top of the container was absolutely covered in dirt, so now the 50 liters or so of water in the bottom of the container were unfit for drinking. After composing ourselves, I hopped up and pulled the lid out. I tried to get it on myself, but found that the lid definitely did not fit anymore. I think the container had been used enough times that the shape didn’t match up with the lid anymore.

We were then on our way. But first, we had to dump out the dirty water that was now in the container and drop off the couple of buckets we had filled while emptying the large container. We headed back towards our house, taking our time, so as not to lose any of the precious water.

On the way, I noticed some large bugs crawling across the path. They looked like roaches, and there were at least twenty of them so I tried to steer the truck so as to hit them. Right as we drove over them, I heard all kinds of loud crunching and scrapping. My face fell flat in shock of the loudness of the bugs being crushed. I looked over to Matt, and he had the same look. How did those bugs make such a loud crunch? He then looked back, and said, “OOHHHH, that was the tree!” The container stood several feet above the cab, and coincidentally, the container crashed into the overhead branches of a tree, just as we drove over the crowd of roaches. Both of us were so amused by our mistaken thought, that we began laughing hysterically once again! So much so, that when we got back to the house and met Molly, we had tears coming out of our eyes as we continued to laughed. She asked us what was wrong, but it took us some time to compose ourselves enough to explain how what had just happened. We both legitimately thought for a few moments that the loud crashing of branches was the sound of roaches being crushed under the tires of our truck.

We then unloaded the water, dumping the dirty water from the container onto our banana trees. It was pretty cool to see so much water waterfall out of the container. We then made our way to the bore-hole. Everything there were as usual, so I’m move onto the next and final experience of our adventure.

We made it all the way home to the 300 meter long drive up a sandy hill that leads to Chaminade’s campus. As we started up the hill, I noticed the engine having some trouble. I was pushing the accelerator and seemed to be in the right gear, but the truck was struggling just to get up the hill. About half way up, we noticed the temperature gauge begin to climb. The engine was overheating! We both recalled Tuesday, when we went shopping with the brothers, and the filling station attendant told one of the brothers that the truck was low on engine coolant. We figured that he had forgotten to get it changed, and we were now overheating. I stopped, turned off the truck, and we decided to roll backwards down the hill to a flat spot where it would be easier to get the truck started again. I suggested that we take some of the water we just picked up and put in the engine, just to make it home.

After popping open the hood, finding the coolant tank, and getting some water ready to pour in, we prepared to open up the cap to the tank. Matt reached for the cap but before he got to it, I said, “Wait, we should get a rag or something so the steam doesn’t burn us.” We couldn’t find a rag, so Matt took off his shirt, and soaked it with water. With me standing a few feet away, Matt reached for the cap and gave it a small turn. He reached again, and turned it a little more. The third time he reached in, the cap suddenly burst off sending engine coolant spraying 15 feet into the air. Matt instantly began running up the hill. In shock, I stood there for a moment before realizing that I should run as well. We both ran about 30 feet away before turning back to see the engine still spraying coolant up into the air. It lasted at least 10-15 seconds. And both of us looked at each other with “Holy Shit!” looks. I asked Matt if he got burned, and he was fine. I was too was standing far enough away and didn’t get sprayed with anything. At that point, we decided to call the brothers and get them to come help us out. It was past 11PM, so we hadn’t wanted to wake him, but when the car your driving explodes, it’s usually a good idea to call the owner.

About 10-15 minutes later, the brothers come driving down the hill to our rescue. Brother Paul surveys the situation and has a good feel for what happened. He showed us how to pour the coolant in, which was a good thing, because had I done it, I would have poured too much of our cold water right into the engine. Bro. Paul showed us that you need to put small amounts of warm water in so that it has time to heat up before it gets into the engine. If you put a lot of cold water in all at once, the temperature difference between the water and the engine could be too great and cause some damage to the engine.

After filling up the coolant line with water, we closed up the hood and headed back to the house. It was midnight by the time I got into bed; so much for a quick run to the bore hole.

Alive Magazine

2008-11-17T07:32:00.000-06:00

Alive Magazine is a Marianist publication that highlights the ministries of the Marianists throughout the world. The next issue will feature a few articles about the Chaminade Mission here in Karonga, and you might even get to see and read a little bit about me.

Jan Dixon, one of the writers for Alive, has been here for the past few days, interviewing away and trying to get a good feel for what this Mission is all about. For me, she probably didn’t come at the best time, because I’m still trying to figure out what the heck I’m doing here, but I’m interested to see what, if anything, from my interview with her she will use.

I’ll let you all know when it comes out. Don’t worry, Mom. She took down our address in Chicago and always has a copy or two sent to the home of the people she interviews. I think it’s supposed to come out in January, but don’t quote me on that.

Wanna’ Go Up To The Uranium Mine?

2008-11-16T00:32:00.000-06:00

Yesterday started off as a typical Saturday. I slept in a little bit, woke up, leisurely made breakfast, and then found myself in the hammock at the end of our veranda to do some reading. Then our Jim, who works for the Uranium mining company nearby, showed up. We asked him what he was doing in our neck of the woods, and he responded by telling us that he had to bring some food up to the mine and had two extra seats in his car. He was wondering if any of us wanted to go for the ride.

It’s not everyday that you get asked to go to a Uranium mine, so I was all in! He’d be back in a few hours, and we had to dress in long sleeves, long pants, and laced-up, close-toed shoes. Sweet!

The drive up to the mine takes about 45 minutes to an hour from our house. The road is pretty rocky, very curvy, quite a climb, and treacherous at times. Jim informed us, however, that, even in the month or so that he has been here, the road has improved dramatically. Considering the fact that the Uranium will be coming out along this road in a few months when production starts, they will have to get it into pretty good shape.

When we arrived at the mine, we had to check in with security, put on some reflective safety vests, and pick up our visitors card. Jim warned us that there are a couple upper level executives at the mine who wouldn’t be too happy to see unnecessarily visitors checking out the mine, but he said that the fact that we were transporting food, a much needed and desired commodity at the mine, was a pretty good excuse for us to be there; if we didn’t bring the food, they wouldn’t have any.

Since we were only there to bring food to the dining hall, we didn’t have much of an excuse to be peaking around, and we were there for only a short time. Nonetheless, it was really cool to actually get inside the mine campus. We drove past the actual processing mine, which is still being constructed, and headed towards the living and dining quarters. It was a bit of a shock to see so many white people—definitely the highest concentration of white people in this region of Africa—and it was impressive to see all of the heavy machinery, fancy quad-cab pickups, and state-of-the-art living facilities. Approximately 350 people live on the site of the mine. Those 350 are mainly Australians and other non-Malawians who will be working in the mine after it is constructed. Another 1300 people are involved with the construction of the mine; this is where the majority of Malawians hired by the mining company come in. Unfortunately, in three months, when the construction is completed, most of the Malawians will be out of a job. There is no doubt that this temporary job is an incredible opportunity for those who were lucky enough to find a position, but in no way will this mine provide any long term improvements in employment for the Malawian people.

After dropping off the food, we made our way out of the mine, and then stopped at the Health Center in the shanty town outside of the mine. The shanty town is where the 1300 or so temporary workers are living, and the Health Center is Jim’s assignment. In order to save face, the mining company has to provide some kind of development for the local community, and Jim was hired to establish a functioning health center. The mining company could probably care less about how it’s done, but luckily, Jim and his wife Robin, have some awesome experience and seem to be going about the process in an incredibly sustainable and developmental way. From what Jim has told us, the mining company just wanted Jim and Robin to come in and start providing some services to the people who were there. Instead, Jim and Robin are looking into what kind of health services and workers are already in the area, and then they are using those services and workers to develop the health center. This means that even after Jim and Robin are gone, and even after the mine runs out of Uranium and disappears, the local community will still have a solid health center set up and developed to sustain itself after everyone else packs up. Jim and Robin are pretty awesome people and seem to be the good guys working inside a big-time company, which, obviously, is more interested in dollars than it is in development.

Though I didn’t see too much, I never thought I’d see a Uranium mine, even from the outside, so that’s pretty cool.

“Marking Week”

2008-11-13T09:15:00.000-06:00

After exams finished last week, we had one week to finish marking our exams and enter our grades onto the report forms. The Malawians here like to have a “Marking Week” where all of the teachers meet in one of the classrooms each day for a week to work on grading their exams. The school promotes this “Marking Week,” and even provides some light beverages and lunch. To me, however, it seems like the most inefficient way to grade exams.

Not everyone shows up every day, or for the whole day (I only went three or four times for about an hour or two each time.), but it is usually a center for conversation. If you were to walk in, you’d usually find somebody looking up from their papers saying something, others will respond, sometimes the conversation is straightforward and informational, other times the discussion will turn into a lively debate with people standing up, raising their voices, and slamming the table as they make their points, all in friendly jest of course. It was a pretty fun way to get to know the other teachers better, and it actually made grading a lot more bearable. By no means was it efficient, but by no means do I think it is supposed to be. I think “Marking Week” is an excellent example of a major difference between African and American cultures. In the US, most everything is about efficiency. If you do something that takes more time than an alternative route, or costs more money than a different method, or uses more energy than another way, people will ask, “Why did you do it that way? This way works much better.” But here, even though the teachers are well aware of the fact that they’d get their grading done much more quickly if they each did the marking at home, or in separate places, and the school wouldn’t have to provide food or beverage for them, saving some of the extremely strained budget, the value here lies not in efficiency. The value here lies in the quality of relationship. They know that by spending the week together slowly grading papers one by one with regular interruptions of conversation will build and strengthen their friendship and bonds with one another; and it did.

"That is what praising God sounds like."

2008-11-10T08:54:00.000-06:00

"That is what praising God sounds like."

~Molly Heineman in reference to the incredible jubilation of sound coming from MIRACLE's choir practicing just a few feet away from this computer lab. The sound hits my soul with such strength that my spirit is knocked out of this chair, sent soaring, and typing an email becomes the least of my interests.

Bricks, Water, and Sticks

2008-11-08T12:36:00.001-06:00

Today was quite the day.

I woke up when I heard my community members unloading a pickup truck full of brick outside my bedroom window. I was supposed to be with them, but I had put my ear plugs in and failed to hear the poor attempts to wake me up. I was up now, and there was still much work to be done, so no one seemed to hold my extra 45 minutes of sleep against me.

We were gathering bricks to build a summer hut in our garden. A summer hut is the Africa equivalent of a gazebo, and they are a fairly common place for gathering to meet, discuss, or simply relax out of the sun for a bit. We needed 3000 bricks in all, and so we made numerous trips to a nearby village to pick up the bricks, which we were actually purchasing from Vicki, one of our cooks. We loaded each brick by hand into the back of a pickup truck and hauled the bricks back to our house where we unloaded them, and stacked them up. We made it through without too many injuries: one smashed and bloody finger on Molly, a gashed and swollen ankle on Emily, and all kinds of little shards of what seemed to be fiberglass in my still-all-too-American-sensitive hands; apparently, there is a tree right next to the brick pile we were pulling from that has leaves that drop the little fiberglass dust particles. We finished by lunchtime, and since we were still without water, we decided to make a trip to the bore-hole after lunch.

Matt, Molly, Sarah, and Emily all went to the bore-hole, while Kat and I took the school car to transport food to the hospital for the Headmaster’s daughter (she broke her arm earlier this week). Both trips returned around the same time, and so we spent a few more hours unloading the water from the giant 1000 L container, which we borrowed from the school.

Then, a few of us took on the task of debarking the Blue Gum branches that will provide the frame for the roof of our summer hut. The process of debarking them is grunting and tedious work, but I found a good bit of pleasure in it, and found satisfaction in the five big sticks I was able to debark.

Now, at the end of the day, we’re all worn out, sweaty, dirty, and exhausted. But at the same time, I think this day was one of the best days for our community thus far. All of these tiring and grueling jobs brought us together as a team in a way that we haven’t done yet; and I can already see how it has brought us closer together in spirit.

Who knew some bricks, water, and sticks could do just the trick?

Bringing Light In The Darkness

2008-11-08T12:23:00.000-06:00

Last night was the farewell party at MIRACLE for Bro. Bill, the outgoing director and the welcome party for Br. Paul, the new director of MIRACLE. Unfortunately, shortly after the program started, the power went out, and since music and dancing was the primary means of entertainment, the planning committee, including Molly, became pretty nervous.

Incredibly, shortly after lighting the room with a few candles, various teachers and staff members stood up and starting singing songs of their own while dancing various traditional dances. Mr. Mhongo, the jolly deputy principle of MIRACLE, was first to take the center of the room, where he firmly and passionately sang a song of praise to God. Then Wanangwa, accompanied by the chorus of all those gathered, sang a song of farewell to Br. Bill in Tumbuka. Both songs were incredibly beautiful and touching, and I was filled with joy by the way these people were so willing to simply stand up and bring some bright and beautiful light to the darkened night.

The power came back on while we were eating dinner, and you can bet that much lively and spirited dancing of all types ensued. It was one sweaty night!

Obama!

2008-11-05T08:44:00.001-06:00

I know for a fact that not everyone who reads this was pulling for Obama to win the election, but I do want to express the excitement I feel about his victory!

Last night, Matt, Molly, and I stayed up a little later than usual and watched CNN to get some preliminary information about the start of Election Day in the US. Because of the huge time difference, we couldn’t really get any information about any of the states before we went to bed, so we decided to get up at 4AM, and see who our new president would be.

Though I was pretty exhausted, the three of us got up to walk to the Headmaster’s office where there is a TV hooked up to a satellite dish. When we first arrived, things were looking promising for Obama, but nothing could be confirmed yet. Then, when the polls closed on the West Coast, CNN announced Obama as the winner, and the three of us rejoiced!

While I’m sure that Obama will not solve all the world’s problems, and I am confident that he will make some decisions that will not be good for everyone, for the first time in my life, I can honestly say I’m excited about the American president.

And being here in Africa puts a whole different perspective on things. Though many people may question Obama’s experience and ability to deal with the rest of the world, I have witnessed the immense optimism the world outside the US has for Obama. Furthermore, because of Obama’s unique background, he will be able to represent the United States to the rest of the world in a way that no president ever has in the history of the US. In our ever-increasingly globalized world, and from what I’ve witnessed in populations outside of the US, this is quite possibly the best step the American people could have made in electing a new president. I feel safe in saying the world would have been bitterly disappointed if Americans selected Obama’s rival, and I don’t think many advancements in foreign relations would have been made, or at least, people from this end wouldn’t have been very open to it.

I know my hope in Obama is rather audacious, but I am very excited to see where he will take the American people and the world. Here we go America; let’s see what is possible!

Dreams

2008-11-04T00:23:00.000-06:00

Some of you may know that I have a dream book. My dream book is a journal in which I write down my dreams, whether they are something small and simple like my dream to make a hammock in the next few weeks or something grand and lifelong like my dream to make this world a better place. I believe dreams are incredibly important, and I don’t think we utilize them enough; I dream to change that in my life.

Last night, as I was getting ready for bed, I thought about my current state here in Malawi. As I describe a little bit in one of my previous blogs, I’ve been a bit discontent with things. One of those things is the zest that I find lacking in my life right now. Currently, I’m struggling to find things that really excite me here. In fact, the thing I get most excited about is when we have pizza for lunch; that’s sad. Last night, I started dreaming about how I could change that. I wrote in my dream journal, “I dream to live a life of passion. If I’m not passionate about my life, than what is the point?”

I’m now on a mission to find the things here that make me come alive. Because as Howard Thurman wrote, “…what the world needs most is people who have come alive!” I dream to come alive!

French Toast Over Fire

2008-11-03T02:33:00.001-06:00

Yesterday morning, I decided to make some French toast. Since our cooks don’t come in on Sunday until the afternoon, we get to make our own meals for breakfast and lunch on Sundays. French toast has quickly become my favorite meal to prepare for Sunday morning breakfast.

I made all the preparations, and started cooking on our stove. Just as the first piece came to a delicious, golden-brown, our power went out. This is nothing out of the ordinary; in fact, it went out again last night for several hours. However, I had made enough batter for four French toast, and I was pretty excited about my now weekly tradition. Luckily, since the power does go out on a regular occasion, we have a ‘kitchen’ outside, where our cooks can cook over a small fire whenever the power goes out. This would be my first time cooking out there; I was kinda excited!

About ten minutes after going outside, my excitement had faded as I struggled to even get the small fire started. You would think with it being so hot here and with no rain in months that just about anything would light up in seconds. The rice grass I used as kindling was lighting up in seconds, but it would also go out in seconds. Finally, I realized that the flames were probably not getting enough oxygen, and once I started blowing on the ember-y grass, enough flames lit up to catch some small sticks on fire. I then brought in some bigger pieces to burn, and I soon had a nice, hot fire going. From there on, it was a piece of cake…or rather…a piece of French toast. The French toast cooked up in just a few minutes over the high heat, and I was enjoying a lovely breakfast in no time.

Everything Else Is Bonus

2008-11-03T01:29:00.001-06:00

These days, it has become absolutely normal for the temperature to reach between 110 and 115 degrees. It might even get up to 120 or 125 for a short period during the hottest part of the day. Right now, it is 9:28AM, and it is already 90 degrees in my room. It is probably at least 5 to 10 degrees hotter outside, and so by noon, it’s safe to say that it’s going to be dang hot today.

On top of the heat, we’ve been without consistent running water for about three or four weeks now. On occasion, our outside hosepipe will get water, and when that happens, we fill up every bucket we have so that we can go a few more days without making a trip to the borehole, which takes at least an hour to two hours to fill up a majority of our buckets.

Surprisingly, life really isn’t that horrible with the intense heat and a shortage of water. So far, we’ve always had enough water to drink—we’ve just had to cut back on bathing, washing clothes, and watering the garden. Things do get a little stickier when the power goes out, but for the most part, you can usually find a shady place with some kind of breeze. The only time I actually get annoyed is during the night when you’re trying to sleep and there’s no power for a fan.

All in all, these experiences of heat, lack of water, and inconsistent electricity have really made me appreciate how comfortable and luxurious life is in the US. I’m beginning to realize that life consists of water, enough food, some kind of shelter, and relationships; everything else is bonus.

Christmas on Campus!

2008-11-02T06:22:00.001-06:00

Two holidays in two days: this was great!

After our Halloween celebration on Friday, we woke up on Saturday to start our Christmas on Campus celebration, Malawi style. Christmas on Campus is a celebration at the University of Dayton during which UD students “adopt” children from inner-city Dayton to celebrate Christmas with them. When the volunteers arrived here last year, they wanted to carry this tradition to Chaminade.

Things are a little different here, so our Christmas on Campus celebration was focused on giving the students a day when they could relax, have fun, and enjoy time together in the family spirit that is what Christmas is all about.

We began the day at 9AM with our Kick-Off including an opening prayer, an explanation of the day, and a detail of the day’s events! We then directed all of the students as staff to the basketball court for a game between the two sections of the school. It proved to be an enjoyable game with lots of cheering and chants! Then, the staff prepared to face off with the students on the volleyball court. Though we narrowing lost the first game, we came back and won the second game. It came down to the third and final game to decide the winner, but unfortunately, the student’s stamina proved to be too much for us staff members, and the students came out on top.

We then broke for lunch, where everyone we back to their respective locations for lunch. This proved to be a nice break for us volunteers who were directing and coordinating all of the days activities. Then after lunch, the students hosted a variety show including acts with dancers, singers, rappers, actors, and even a fashion show!
The last activity before the evening was a football (soccer) match, highlighting the schools best football players. The game was a very close and exciting one finishing with a 4-4 tie!

Then the students had about an hour to rest up and clean up before the evening prayer service started in the chapel. This prayer service included much singing, several scripture readings, a very entertaining and enjoyable reenactment of the Birth of Christ, a powerful, profound, and pointed reflection by one of the brothers, and a very reverent candle-light procession to the dining hall.
Coincidentally, the power went out just as the Nativity play ended, so the candles proved to be entirely practically as well as symbolic. We gathered in the dining hall, and after a prayer over the food, all of us volunteers proceeded to serve a bountiful and delicious dinner to the students. The diet the boys typically eat isn’t that nourishing or flavorful, so this meal was an enormous treat for them. After the meal, each of the volunteers took a part in explaining the meaning of the day, the people who made it possible, and the hope we have in them. We then announced the various gifts for the school made possible by numerous donations including new sports equipment, new sports jerseys, a sound system, and new chalk boards located throughout campus. We tried to give a gift to each of the departments of the school: athletics, entertainment, and academics. As you can imagine, the students cheered, shouted, and celebrated upon the news of these fantastic gifts. Quite appropriately, we celebrated the end of the day with a disco (dance), and the boys danced the night away, only coming to an end when the sounds system had to be returned to MIRACLE.

Though Christmas on Campus here took a little bit of a different form than what I came to know at UD, I could visibly see the way that this day touched the hearts of many of these students. I could see in the smiles, laughter, and sincere moments of gratitude that they appreciate how gifted they are and how much of a gift this day was. I could sense that the small and simple gift of this day of familial celebration filled their hearts with the joy and love of Christ, and to me, that is what Christmas is all about.

With that, I would like to thank all of those who made these gifts possible, including my mom. My mom worked diligently to bring together a fantastic fundraiser which raised many of the fund that made the meals, gifts, and materials available for this day. Several other donors including Kat’s parents made this day possible. Thank all of you for the gift you have shared with these students.

I know it’s still a bit early, but Merry Christmas!

Halloween!

2008-10-31T15:15:00.001-05:00

Though most people here have never heard of Halloween, our community didn’t pull any stops in celebrating the sugar-loaded holiday. Thanks to several packages from friends and family, we had an entire Halloween Celebration Kit, full with candy, Halloween stickers, small pumpkins and gourds, Halloween decorations, Halloween cookie cutters, and more! We even picked up some locally available supplies to make cookie icing and popcorn balls. The night culminated with each of us taking five minutes to throw together a costume, meet at our front door, and go trick-or-treating. (I dressed up as our night watchman, who almost always wears a muscle-tee. tucked into his slacks, with heavy shoes, and a HUGE flashlight.) Since I’m a pretty big sugar addict, and my sugar intake hasn’t dropped too low, I ended up being the only one who didn’t get sick off of the cupcakes, cookies, icing, and sugar we all ingested. It was just like we were little kids again!

Coke: Inhumane?

2008-10-31T09:15:00.000-05:00

I just got home from an entire day in town. Once again, we had to go to the bus depot to get soft drinks. Tomorrow is our Christmas on Campus celebration, and we would have a lot of unhappy campers if we didn’t have any pop. Unfortunately, the Coca Cola Company doesn’t have the most effective means of distributing minerals (what they are called here) here in Karonga. In fact, if there aren’t any sodas in town, you can plan to waste away an entire Friday waiting at the bus depot for the weekly shipment to come in.

My friends and I arrived in town around 9:30AM, and our first order of business was to check if there were any cases of Coke available anywhere. There weren’t, so we headed over to the bus depot. There would be a truck coming in sometime today, and we could get in line with our empty crates (minerals here are sold in glass bottles, which carry a heavy deposit) and wait for the truck to come in. Last time we did this, we left the depot around 3pm. This time proved to be just about the same.

So here’s my issue with Coke: couldn’t the Coca Cola distributors of Karonga find a better way to bring Coke to the people who want or need it (For some people here, selling sodas is a major part of their livelihood.)?

For me, Coke is a familiar treat, something I enjoy having here because it tastes like home. By no means do I need Coke. But I do think Coke is a good thing. It’s very delicious, refreshing, and enjoyable. It’s a gift to our senses, giving an extra little kick after a hot and tiring day. Unfortunately, I find the way it is distributed here absolutely despicable.

In order to walk away with a desired amount of Coke, an individual must wait all day, standing mostly in the hot sun, in a crowded and dirty bus depot, just waiting. Then, once the line does open, everyone who is hot, tired, and unhappy already, fights to get their empty cases into the fenced off cage where the Coke is kept. Then, they push their way over to the manager who takes in their money for the new cases of Coke. The process takes hours, is extremely stressful and tiring, and to me, is entirely inhumane; the people trying to get the Coke are treated like animals. Furthermore, an individual who desires to have Coke must waste an entire day just sitting. They lose the opportunity of that day to use their creativity, to use their energy, and to use their intelligence to make something great of that day; they become a slave to the Coke.

As I mentioned, I’ve enjoyed the occasional Coke during my time here, but I find the way these distributors treat their customers to be unjust. And for me, that’s not worth a Coke.

I already had a few issues with the global practices of the Coca Cola Cooperation; this just added to the pile.

A Good Day

2008-10-30T00:33:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was quite a day! I was absolutely exhausted at the end of it.

I invigilated (aka proctored) a final exam from 8AM to 10AM. It turns out to be an extremely exhausting job, especially when you find out after you have passed tests to about 80 students that you don’t have enough tests for the 11 remaining students, when at least 30 students ask you what the word “depleted” means, when you have to walk back and forth between two classrooms, and when one of the questions asks about “six 50 kilogram bags” (Apparently, the word “six” next to the number “50” made it really confusing.). Then, before lunch, I worked on the shelf that I’m building. I then had lunch, and before heading to MIRACLE to teach a class, I put in another hour and a half on my shelf. I ran right over to MIRACLE and started my class. This class was focused on responding to the challenges of HIV/AIDS, and living positively. It was an extremely awesome class to facilitate since I was able to foster some really great discussion on the topic, but it was extremely tiring. Then I went to the internet to try to figure out some of my loan stuff. My loans from UD are absolutely massive, and having the grace period for half of them end in a few days is pretty stressful. The power went on and off a few times, and I ended up achieving virtually nothing. I then had to make it back to the house to meet with Sarah and Emily to put some finishing plans on our Christmas on Campus celebration happening on Saturday. Then this week happened to be our week to have dinner with the brothers, so we ended up having 7 guests for a romantic candlelit dinner (The lights were still out.). Finally, we did dishes, and I was ready for bed. Oh, and did I mention the 110 degree heat during the day?

At last, I walked out onto our veranda, heading towards the door for our bedroom. Noticing a slight difference in the lighting because of the black-out, I glanced over to the sky above our backyard. My eyes froze as they caught the stars piercing through the pitch black sky. I stopped in my step, turned, and stood with my jaw dropped. I was in absolute awe of the stars, once again. After a few minutes of standing, I walked down to the hammock at the end of our veranda. After such a tiresome day, laying in a hammock, gazing up at the star-speckled sky, and enjoying the cool night air was a perfect gift.

Discontent

2008-10-28T13:59:00.000-05:00

I was recently asked to write an article for the Newsletter the Marianist Volunteer Program sends out every few months. They asked me to write about my experience so far, and as I sat down to reflect on how things are going so far, I found myself rather dissatisfied. I just submitted the first draft of the article, so I’m not sure how much it will change before it is actually published, but I do feel it is appropriate to share some of the thoughts I touched on in the article.

Though I’ve finally gotten into my job as a teacher, I still feel that I’m lacking my purpose here. The US has plenty of need for teachers, especially ones that aren’t working for money. So why come all the way to Africa? Furthermore, I feel that a Malawian teacher could probably do my job better than I could simply because of the fact that they grew up in this educational system, they are familiar with the curriculum and the testing, and they know and understand the culture of the students. These things all put me at a disadvantage for being able to teach my students well. At Chaminade, when I’m trying to teach different concepts in Social Studies, I am constantly wondering if the examples I give make sense to the students. And at M.I.R.A.C.L.E., the technical college for young people in destitution, I feel entirely inadequate to lead discussions about issues like HIV/AIDS and malnutrition, which are things I have only read about in textbooks while my students deal with them everyday. At times, I wonder what I’m doing here.

As a Christian, I believe that regardless of where I am or what my job is, I have the mission to share Christ’s Love with others. And as a Catholic, I believe the best way I can do that is by allowing God to transform me into a part of the Body of Christ so that I may then be the hands and feet of Christ, of Love, in this world. So there is some direction for me. But how do I do that here?

Over the past several years, I have come to believe that personal relationships are the most effective way for me to bring Love to others. So this should be easy then.

Not so much. In fact, I think my relationships with people here is a major reason why I’m feeling so discontent. I have not yet begun to develop personal relationships with the people here, and so I’m lacking opportunities to fulfill my mission of bringing Christ to others. Yes, it’s still early in the game; I’ve only been here for three months. But I know I’ve been holding back.

Back home, I love meeting and getting to know new people. But here, it’s proving to be more challenging. I’m finding I’m not as excited to meet and chat with someone, and I think it’s because I’m not as comfortable in those situations here. The culture here is different. The way people think and respond to things here is different. Even the way people speak English here is different. All of those differences make interacting with people much more difficult, and, in my three months here, I’ve simply limited my submersion into those difficulties. I’m realizing that, during my time here, I have effectively tip-toed around the challenge of developing personal relationships with people from a different culture. I thought that by simply being here I’d be forced to immerse myself in those types of relationship. Instead, I’m finding it much easier to dodge those situations than I thought it would be. I’m not embracing the challenges of the situation, and, as a result, I’m not receiving the benefits of doing so.

So am I glad I came here? Heck yes! I’m getting to see and explore a part of the world I probably would have never come to had I not made the decision to volunteer here. But is it all worth it? Well, it will depend on my willingness to step out of my comfort zone and embrace the challenges of developing relationships with people I might not fully understand—and I have yet to show that.

Late Night Adventure

2008-10-27T05:35:00.001-05:00

I was pretty tired last night, so when Molly, Sarah, and Emily asked me if I wanted to go to Planet K Dot A last night, I passed, informing them that I hoped to go to bed soon. They left around 9:30PM or so, but I actually didn’t end up going to bed until 11PM.

Then it was approximately 1:32AM when I woke up to my cell phone ringing. Emily’s number was calling me. I fumbled to answer it. Fighting to break through the grogginess of sleep, I could make out Molly’s voice explaining to me that the car was stuck and asking me if I could go wake one of the brothers to come help them get out. The car battery was also dead, and they would need a jump. “Okay,” I said, and I hung up the phone.

After a minute or two of laying in my bed trying to motivate myself to get up, I put on some clothes, grabbed my cell phone and a torch (aka flashlight), and headed over to the brothers. I woke up Br. Adoka and a few minutes later, we were on our way. The only problem was that we didn’t know where we were going. The girls didn’t know where they were exactly.

After several phone calls back and forth while Adoka and I drove around looking for a stranded vehicle, we finally crossed paths with Sarah who led us back to the school truck.

The battery was indeed dead, and the left rear wheel was a good three feet down in sand. After switching batteries, we tried pushing the truck, but to no avail. We then tried to tie ropes from the Bro’s car to the school car and pull it out. That didn’t work either. Adoka suggested we go back to Chaminade, wake up 10 strong boys, and bring them back to carry the school truck out of the sand. It was about 3:45AM at this point, but this was the best shot we had. Leaving the car in the middle of some village till the morning was not an option. We drove back to Chaminade, woke up some boys, and brought them back to the car. We vaguely explained to them the situation, leaving out where the girls had gone, and emphasizing the help they would be.

In a few quick minutes, we had the car lifted out, and we were on our way home. It was 4:30AM by the time I got back into bed. The best part of it is that the road the girls took, which ended up being an absolutely treacherous road, was intended to be a short cut; talk about irony.

Shelf

2008-10-24T09:12:00.002-05:00

I’m building a shelf to put right near our front-door so that each of us can have a place to store different things such as notebooks, textbooks, quizzes, and other teaching tools. Today, I started cutting the wood for the shelf. The pieces of wood that I am using are actually two doors that were removed from the large, closet-like shelves in our bedroom. The doors wouldn’t stay closed, so Adam and Ryan took them off. Now, they will make a very nice shelf to put by our front door. And since we don’t have a circular saw, I’m making all of the cuts by a hand saw. Oddly, I couldn’t help but feel great as I slowly but surely cut both of the doors in half. Each cut took me about one hour, which is about as far as you can get from efficiency. But it didn’t matter. I know that a circular saw is far too expensive to own here. Furthermore, I’m finding it very humbling to use nothing more than my hands and a sharp piece of metal to inch my way through the heavy plywood.

One of the other volunteers was so kind as to take this picture for me.

Thursday Night Entertainment

2008-10-23T15:37:00.004-05:00

Tonight’s activities started with a request from the Headmaster to drive into town with the school car and pick up a truck-load of police officers. The Form 4’s leave campus tomorrow for the last time, and there have been some rumors that they would cause some trouble on their last night at Chaminade. Though there was no fracas last night (“fracas” is the word our Headmaster overused to describe the trouble early this term), driving through town (for my first time ever, and at night) with 8 armed police officers in army fatigues was quite an interesting and somewhat stressful way to start the night.

Then when I got home, Matt and Molly were sitting outside near the hose pipe for our garden. Our water still wasn’t reaching our storage tank (which it needs to do before it comes into our house), but it was reaching our hose pipe, so they were just chillin’ outside, filling up buckets, and carrying them inside. I went ahead and ate my dinner before coming out to join them. For the next two hours, we sat around, filling up the buckets, carrying them into the house (on our heads at times), splashing each other, and even playing Frisbee for a bit with one of the bucket lids. I searched the house for every bucket we had, and by the end of the night, we filled up every last one. Though it wasn’t much more than a tedious chore, the conversation, jokes, and silliness we shared made the evening an absolute blast.

(Here's a picture of me carrying a bucket on my head. And yes, I did spill water all over me in the process. But that is less a mistake of and more a perk of carrying water on your head.)

Sweaty, Sore, and Loving It!

2008-10-23T08:09:00.000-05:00

I just got home from class and it was great! We are preparing for their finals next week, and I had a blast quizzing them on all of the material I’ve covered with them. And even better, they were responding to my questions with ease and excitement! I’m also beginning to see how teaching is like an extreme sport: my back was drenched with sweat, my voice was sore, I was loving every second of it!

Splattered Reputation

2008-10-22T14:06:00.000-05:00

I have been driving some of the boys to and from places like the hospital and the bore hole, and in my short time here, I had earned a reputation as an excellent driver; that was, until tonight.

Mr. Nkhata, the Deputy Boarding Master, came over shortly before dinner to ask me if I would be able to drive the school car to retrieve water from the bore hole. Having achieved success at transporting the huge container of water a few times already, I was excited to strut my driving skills once again.

Everything went well on the way there, and the boys filled up the 1000L container relatively quickly. When they finished, we loaded up the car, and I, slowly and carefully, began to drive away. The bore hole is just off the road, past a small football pitch (soccer field), and as you pull onto the road, there is a small ditch before a little incline back up to the road. Well, with the weight of the water, and with a few too many secondary school boys riding in the back, the school truck struggled to get up out of that ditch. I remained persistent and pressed down the accelerator, slowly powering the vehicle to get up onto the road. Finally, the car started moving, and got up onto the flat ground. Unfortunately, I also had to make a sharp right hand turn onto the road, and, with the engine still revving from its struggle up the incline, the car pulled forward, accelerating a bit too quickly. With the force of the turn and the quick accelerating, the entire 1000L container slid about two feet from the middle of the truck bed to the back, pressing up against the tailgate. Even worse, the boys who were previously sitting on the tailgate had jumped from the vehicle in order to avoid being smashed by the container. And, to my utter remorse, one boy had his toe jammed by the sliding container.

After some yelling to stop, I slowed the vehicle, and Mr. Nkhata and I got out. All of the boys were okay, and it was only two boys who had to jump out. Though the acceleration and turn together were enough to cause the container to slide, the vehicle itself didn’t reach more than 10mph, and the athletic boys had no problem landing on their feet. Nonetheless, I felt entirely terrible. All of the boys and Mr. Nkhata reassured me that it was not necessarily my fault. There were about twice as many boys in the back as there had been during the previous times when I have transported the water container. The added weight caused the car to have a lot more trouble getting up the incline, and when it finally leveled out, it jumped forward. Being the not-so-experienced stick shift driver that I am, I was not prepared to press down the clutch in enough time to keep the revving engine from powering forward.

The same situation happened once again as we turned onto our road off of a main road. There was a slight incline, some soft sand, and a turn. The car struggled in the very same way, but this time, I recognized what was about to happen, and pushed down the clutch to keep the car from rushing forward again; you live, and you learn.

Though my reputation as a great driver splattered away with the water that was undoubtedly spilled, none of the boys were seriously hurt, and after a little bit of ice, the one who hurt his toe felt fine.

Next time, I’m going to tell the Boarding Master only a few boys (you need at least four to do the work efficiently). And you can bet I’ll be prepared for those inclines.

Pestilential Parcels

2008-10-22T10:09:00.003-05:00

My very troublesome pacakges finally arrived in one piece! And boy were they great! Though it took some work to get them here, they were well work the wait! Thanks Mom!

"Water is Life"

2008-10-22T09:41:00.004-05:00

So we're going on day 10 or 11 without water coming to our house. Though you would think it's a major issue, it's not too bad. Sometimes at night we can get water from the spicket outside our house. Other times we can get it from the Maize Mill 50 meters from our house. And other times we ride with the school car or the brother's to the bore hole which is about 5km from our house.

Making trips to the bore hole (water pump) is pretty fun. When we go with the school car, 6-8 students usually come with us. The school uses a huge 1000L container to fill up water for the boys' drinking and food.

On Sunday morning, I drove the school car with the Asst. Boarding Master. It's a lot of fun to work with the boys a little and interact with them outside of the classroom. I usually get to engage with them about a few different topics, and I always come away from those interactions with something to chew on. When we've asked the boys about being without water, one of them responded, "Water is life." I think this is something we overlook in the US, and it's pretty cool being here and realizing how vital water really is. We totally take water for granted in the US. Even at Chaminade, we are quite privileged in the fact that we have massive containers and a vehicle to transport water from the bore hole to where we need it. It would be a whole different story if each of us had to carry all of the water we need back to our homes on our heads. (Below, Molly carrying a bucket of water on her head).

One other things I love about the bore hole is interacting with the villagers. It's always interesting to see how they react to not only a vehicle pulling up with a bunch of Chaminade students (both of which are quite elite entities here) but one driven by a Muzungu. The little children are always suspiciously curious of me, which is a bit strange. However, I have found an ability to inspire smiles and laughter simply by looking at them and smiling at them. One day, I had a whole group of them laughing simply because I was laughing at their laughter. And the day I accidently kicked an empty bucket, I caused one teen-age girl to burst into laughter for at least 5 minutes.

It's true, "Water is Life." And going to the water hole is full of life too!

Perpetual Summer

2008-10-19T07:34:00.001-05:00

Last night, I was on a Skype phone call with my friend Helen. She said her mom sent her a bunch of candy. I said, “For what?” “For HALLOWEEN,” she replied, indicating the obviousness.

I had absolutely no idea that Halloween is just about ten days away. In fact, I feel as if Halloween should still be two or three months away. To me, it feels as if I’m right in the middle of summer. Judging by the heat of the day, double practices for football should be starting soon, I should be preparing to head back to UD, and the fourth of July should have been just a few weeks ago.

I feel as if last June, I entered into summer, and since then, I’ve just kept getting deeper into it. It just keeps getting hotter. May brought me high temperatures in the upper 70s; June was mostly in the 80s; July got up to the 90s; by the start of September, I experienced my first 100-degree day; and now, in late October, I’m seeing 110- to 120-degree afternoons.

It’s crazy, but it feels like, by coming to Africa, I’ve jumped into a never-ending summer.

The New Brothers and Our Cooks

2008-10-15T14:44:00.000-05:00

If you’ve been following my blog, you may have read a few weeks ago that some of the Marianist Brothers were leaving this community at Chaminade. Well, two of the new Brothers have already arrived, and they’re SWEET! One is named Bro. Bernard, but people call him Beams for short. And the other is Bro. Adoku, who is from Kenya, and had a reputation that preceded him. Both of them have been here at Chaminade before, and from what we have heard, the students love Bro. Adoku. Both Beams and Adoku are very young, energetic, and funny. Even though neither of them has been here for even a week, we’re already developing pretty great relationships with them. After our first gathering with them, we challenged them and the rest of their community members to a volleyball match. We played that match today for an hour or two in the hot African sun before hopping into the Brothers’ Hilux (pick-up truck) to head to the lake for a swim. We then had our regularly scheduled, bi-weekly meal with them, which concluded with an assortment of cakes, brownies, and cookies, all prepared by us volunteers, and then the most delicious homemade-ice cream I have ever had, made by Bro. Adoku; I think he will fit in just fine here.

And then, today was both Mother’s Day and our cook Alick’s Birthday. Since Vicki, our other cook, is like a mother to us here—and is an actual mother raising four children on her own—today was a very special day for both of them. Kat commanded an effort to make a cake and some brownies for each of them since they always make baked goods for us on our special days. We then decided to deliver the desserts to their home, which proved to be a little bit of an adventure. We managed to keep ourselves out of too much trouble, and we only drove through one person’s vegetable garden. We soon surprised
Vicki when she heard us asking the nearby shop-keeper where she lived. Vicki then walked us over to Alick’s house, and we took him by great surprise as we started singing Happy Birthday as we rounded the corner to his house. They both seemed quite excited to see us, and I feel that they enjoyed us dropping in and sharing a simple gesture of our appreciation for them.

All in all, it was a great day! And get this, Mother’s Day is a National Holiday, so we didn’t have any school today!

Black-Out Box #3

2008-10-15T00:06:00.000-05:00

The electricity has been going on and off for the past several days. Sometimes, it will only be off for 20-30 minutes. Other times, it is out for 4-5 hours. Monday night it went out right around dinner time, and when the power goes out after sun-down, our house has the tradition of pulling out our “Black-Out Box” and enjoying in some unpredictable fun.

Our Black-Out Box is an old US Postal Service Flat Rate Shipping Box decorated by me with comic strips and magazine clippings. (It turned out quite nicely if I may say so myself.) During our first Black-Out, our community decided to create the box by writing down short suggestions, challenges, games, or dares for us to draw out of the box whenever the power goes out. We’ve already used it twice, both times being huge successes.

During the first Black-Out, the piece of paper that was pulled from the box told us to play “Kat’s Spice Game.” None of us knew what that meant, so Kat explained that we would gather 6-7 different spices from our spice rack. Each of us would then take turns closing our eyes as someone else holds each of the 7 spices in front of our nose. Whoever could identify the most spices by the scent wins. It sounds pretty lame, right? It actually turned out to be an hour and a half of complete fun! During the second Black-Out, we pulled the suggestion for Mad Gabs out of the box. Some of us didn’t know how to play, and after it was first explained, Molly actually exclaimed, “That doesn’t really sounds like any fun at all.” And it’s true, if you read the description of the game, it sounds absolutely unexciting. But once again, despite all doubts, we had another evening of laughter, giggling, and good times.

Unfortunately, when the power went out on Monday, a few community members had some other things they needed to take care of including a trip to the bore-hole for the school. (Our school is also out of water!) So we didn’t get to make use of our Black-Out Box. However, ESCOM (Electrical Service Company of Malawi) would not let us down; shortly before dinner, our power went out once again last night!

We ate our dinner by candlelight, a few of people sharing plates or eating right out of the serving bowls since we are still without water. And then after dinner finished, we grabbed the Black-Out Box and pulled out a piece of paper. The first one was qualified. It read “Unless there is a full moon, go to Sand Stadium and enjoy a night under the stars.” Sand Stadium is the football pitch (AKA a soccer field), which earns that name because there is no grass, only sand. Since there just so happened to be a full moon last night, we threw that one back in and pulled out another. It read “Charades!” Alright; this was pretty straight forward. We were going to play charades. But first, a few of us had some small tasks to accomplish before we started anything.

Without electricity, we had no fan-power to move the air around in our house, so the heavy heat was quickly draining all of our energy. A few people drifted off from the common room, and those who were still around were not feeling too excited about playing charades. After about a half-hour or so, we all found ourselves in our common room, and there were a few suggestions of picking something else out of the box, since acting out various charades did not sound like an appealing activity in the stuffy warmth of our house. But, no, we decided to stick with our draw, and to push through it. None of us wanted to play the spice game, and Molly had absolute doubt in the funness level of Mad Gabs, but both of those proved to be excellent Black-Out activities. We pushed ahead.

It was not long after that we were cracking up watching each other jump and gesture in attempts to get our teammates to guess our word. The Black-Out Box was once again a huge success. And it’s making me realize how valuable it is to set aside all of the “important” things we normally have to do so that we can spend some silly time with those around us. And it helps a lot when something like a black-out or storm forces us to do it. It’s funny to consider the fact that we are gifted here in the sense that black-outs happen a few times a month.

Good Soil

2008-10-13T13:47:00.000-05:00

Each week, one staff member provides a reflection on a Scripture reading for the students during our all-school assembly. This week was my week to do the reflection, and I must say, I scored with the reading I was given—simple, straightforward, and saturated with symbolism. The reading I had to provide a reflection for was Matthew 13:1-9: the Parable of the Sower.

I focused my reflection on two of the symbols: the seed and the good soil.

It is clear in this passage that when Jesus speaks of the sower, he is speaking about God. And when he speaks of the seed the sower spreads, Jesus is speaking about God’s Grace and Blessings. In this story, those seeds fall everywhere. They fall on the path; they fall on rocky ground; they fall on good soil, and they even fall among the thorn bushes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think God was a pretty careless gardener. But that’s not the point. Through this story, Jesus tells us how no one is excluded from God’s Grace and Blessings. God’s Grace and Blessings falls upon all of us, and it falls in abundance. However, this leads to my second point.

Although God pours Grace and Blessings on all of us, only some people will bear fruit. Jesus warns us of this by using the symbol of the good soil. It is only those with hearts of good soil that will bear the abundant produce of thirty, sixty, or a hundredfold. In this way, we are challenged to cultivate our hearts, nurturing them with the nutrients of virtues and preparing them to receive the abundant Grace God pours upon us.

St. Paul, a Yoga Pro

2008-10-12T06:33:00.000-05:00

A few posts ago, I wrote about my morning ritual of stretching with yoga postures and taking time to meditate and pray so that I can better live my day with flexibility—physically and otherwise. After reading the second reading from Mass today, I feel like St. Paul must have been a yoga pro.

The reading came from Paul’s letter to the Christian community in Philippi. He writes,

“…I have learned to be satisfied with what I have. I know indeed how to live in humble circumstances; I know also how to live with abundance. I have learned how to cope with every circumstance—how to eat well or go hungry, to be well provided for or do without. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
~Philippians 4:11-13

Though at first, Paul seems a bit cocky in this passage, he makes it clear that it is not by his own ability that he has achieved this level of flexibility and adaptability; it is through the Yoga Master that Paul is able to become a yoga pro. And that’s something to strive for.

I know there are still many circumstances in which I’m not very good at living with love. When I’m hungry, I can be pretty selfish. And when I’m tired, I’m just darn cranky—ask my brothers or any of my past roommates. I think this reading is a great reminder to draw strength from Christ in those times of struggle, while also drawing that same strength from Christ when everything is going our way.

This reading also helps me to remember not to get too cocky when I am able to live with love. When you think about it, everything we are able to do has been a gift given to us, not something we constructed in ourselves. And if I have any hopes of making it to the pros, I’m going to need God’s help.

“Religious Materials”

2008-10-11T10:17:00.002-05:00

If you are going to send a package to a foreign country, don’t instruct your mom to put “Religious Materials” on the customs slip unless the box actually contains “Religious Materials.”

My mom very generously offered to send some packages to me, and because packages sometimes get “lost” through the normal postal service she decided to send them by DHL. Based upon the recommendations of the volunteers who have been here for more than a year, I told my mom to write “Religious Materials” on the customs form, since “Religious Materials” are not something a thief would be looking for; my instructions to do so were a huge mistake.

Since I can easily see this story becoming a 30-page novel if I write in my normal style, I am going to outline the series of events with bullet points.

• Early September: My mom offers to send me some packages with a few necessities such as my malaria medication, some extra t-shirts, and some other things, as well as some gifts to give the students during the Christmas celebration we are planning and some treats/snacks for the house.
• Mid September: My mom confirms the packages were sent by DHL, and they should arrive in a few weeks.
• 25th of September: I receive a phone call from DHL Karonga notifying me that I had a package waiting for me to be picked up in Karonga.
o I later receive a message from Ryan Dugan that customs in Lilongwe, the capital of Malawi, wanted to speak with me.
o I receive a text from my mom telling me two packages are on hold in Lilongwe; she’s not sure why.
• 26th of September: I receive my package from DHL Karonga full of delicious snacks and treats for our house.
• 27th of September: I speak with a DHL Representative named Steve from the DHL office in Lilongwe. He informs me that I have two packages labeled “Religious Materials” that customs has put a hold on because they want to know what types of “Religious Materials are in the package.
o I tell Steve that I’m not sure what all is in the packages. I tell him that they were sent by my mom and they did include some prescription medication, but that the rest was probably religious books, teaching materials, and maybe some other things to be used by the Catholic Secondary School at which I volunteer.
o He informs me that customs needs to know what exactly is in the package, and he asks if he can have permission to open the boxes.
o I ask him if I can try to contact my mom to find out what is in the boxes.
• Due to the challenges of communicating across continents, I am unable to contact my mom.
• After a weekend out of town, I finally get a hold of Steve again on September 30th. I give him permission to open the packages. My friend Steve tells me he’ll give me a call back after he opens the packages.
• October 1st: Steve calls me and informs me that there are no “Religious Materials” in the package. (I kinda saw that one coming, and I’m feeling like an idiot for telling my mom to write that on the customs slip.)
o I ask Steve, “So what does this mean.”
o Steve replies, “Well, there will probably some duties to be paid.”
o Since cell-phone time is very expensive here, I tell him, “Okay. Can you find out how much the duties will be and call me back?”
o Steve agrees to do so.
• October 3rd: Steve calls me back and tells me the fees customs wants to charge amount to 54,000 Malawian Kwacha. That equals about $385.71US.
o I think to myself, “Holy !@#$!!!”
o I tell Steve that I’m a volunteer and there is no way I can pay that.
o Steve is very understanding, and suggests to me that maybe I can come down to Lilongwe (an exhausting 8 hour journey from Karonga) and meet with customs.
o I tell him it will be very hard for me to leave campus, and I am not sure if I can get transport all the way to Lilongwe.
o I ask Steve if there is a phone number at which I could call someone from customs, and he tells me he will have to look it up.
o I agree to see if I can find transport to Lilongwe while Steve agrees to look up a number for me to call.
• October 7th: I call Steve to tell him I’m not sure if I have transport to Lilongwe, and I ask him if there is someone I can speak to from customs.
o Steve tells me someone from customs will be coming into his office in a short time, and he will call me back.
o Steve calls me back and tells me he has a customs officer with him.
o I speak to Mrs. Jemombo, a customs officer.
o My cell phone continues to run out of units and our phone call gets cut off several times.
o I am able to convey to Mrs. Jemombo that I cannot afford the 54,000 Kwacha fee.
o Steve calls me back and tells me that Mrs. Jemombo has left, but that he can meet with her again and try to negotiate the fee.
o I thank Steve for his work, and ask him to call me back after he meets with her.
o Steve calls me back and informs me that he was able to negotiate the fee with Mrs. Jemombo, working her down to 12,000 Kwacha per package. This is still much more than I would like to pay, but I consider it a victory and tell him I can pull together the funds.
o Steve asks me if I could come to Lilongwe to pay the fee. However, it has to be before the end of the weekend since the customs officer he has been working with is transferring to another location on Monday.
o I tell him I will have to look into transport and will call him back when I find it.
• October 8th: I am able to find a ride to Lilongwe, and I call Steve to tell him that I will be there tomorrow afternoon.
o Later that day, my ride falls through, and I have to call Steve to tell him that I can no longer make it to Lilongwe.
o Steve asks me if I can make it to Mzuzu and pay the fee at the DHL office there. (Mzuzu is only about a 4 hour journey.)
• October 9th: I call Steve and tell him I have transport to go to Mzuzu to pay the fee, and I will be there Friday afternoon.
o Steve asks me to call him when I get to the DHL office in Mzuzu so he can confirm that I make the payment.
o I make plans to take a mini-bus to Mzuzu, to withdraw the money from an ATM with my ATM card, and then pay the fee.
• October 10th
o 5:30AM: My alarm goes off and wakes me up.
o 6:08AM: I board a mini bust to Mzuzu
o 10:57AM: Just as the city of Mzuzu comes into sight, I realize I had forgotten to take my ATM card out of my desk.
 My ATM card is still in Karonga, and I do not have enough money to pay the fee.
 I try to come up with ideas for what I can do. My first thought is to go to Western Union.
o 11:17AM: I go into a shop and buy some cell phone units—I figure I’m going to need them—and I ask the shop owner where I could find a Western Union
o 11:34AM: I walk into Western Union and explain my situation to one of the tellers.
 My first plan was to call my mom and have her forward me the money. The teller reminded me that Chicago is 7 hours behind Malawi, and the transaction wouldn’t come through for another 4 hours when the Western Unions open there. Now what am I going to do?
 I ask her if I can have my friends in Karonga wire me some money.
 The teller asks me if I know Sarah or Emily. I’m amazed and tell her I live with them.
 It turns out the teller is named Emma, and she is friends with two of the other volunteers who live with me!
 Emma tells me that I could have them wire me money through Western Union, but I will be charged a pretty sizeable fee.
 She then suggests having my friends deposit the money into an account with the National Bank of Malawi in Karonga so that, with her help, I could withdraw the money from the National Bank Branch there in Mzuzu. In this way, I wouldn’t get charged any fees.
o 11:57AM: I contact the volunteers in Karonga and explain the situation.
o 12:39PM: The volunteers reply, informing me that they can make the deposit, but that it might not be until 2PM.
o 12:45PM: I explain to Emma that my friends will be able to make the deposit, but that it might not be for an hour or so.
 I ask her if there is somewhere I can get lunch while I wait to hear from them.
o 1:30PM: After eating lunch, I hear confirmation that the money has been deposited.
 I meet back up with Emma who then escorts me to the National Bank where we will make the withdrawal.
o 2:15PM: After waiting sometime in line, we find out the money has not come through.
 I call Kat, the volunteer who mad the deposit and she agrees to look into it
o 2:22PM: Kat calls me back and tells me that the Bank in Karonga is offline, so the deposit hasn’t made it into the system yet.
 Emma agrees to wait with me until 3Pm when the bank closes to see if the Karonga branch comes back online
o 2:58PM: Still no money, so we give up for the day. I decide to stay in Mzuzu for the night so that I can settle the issue in person.
 Emma offers me a place to stay at her house.
 I gladly take the offer.
 Since Emma has to return to work until 5PM, she arranges for a ride to take me to her neighbors house until she gets off.
o 3:26PM: I meet Emma’s neighbor named Rachael. Rachael actually lived in Karonga for several years and is a Roman Catholic who was in the choir and a liturgical dancer for the Masses at Chaminade Secondary School. Her father still lives in Karonga. Rachael has two very adorable daughters, and we quickly pass the time chatting and getting to know each other.
o 4:45PM: Emma’s niece Desire comes to pick me up from Rachael’s house, and shows me to Emma’s house. Emma arrives home shortly, thereafter, and we spend the evening watching movies, including one Nigerian movie that proved to be very good. Emma also had numerous visitors who probably came over to meet the Muzungu visitor from Karonga.
o 10:32PM: Emma shows me to their spare bedroom where I sleep the night.
• October 11th
o 7:00AM: I wake up and share breakfast with Emma while watching an Usher Live Concert DVD.
o 7:45AM: We depart for the bank to make our withdrawal, hoping that the branch in Karonga came back online.
o 8:17AM: We make a successful withdrawal of the money, and I make my way to the DHL office.
o 8:45AM: I meet Blessings, the DHL manager in Muzuzu, who graduated from Chaminade Secondary School in 2000. He was the Headboy (equivalent to a Student Council President in the US, only with many more responsibilities) of the school. I pay the customs fee, and I head back to the bus depot.
o 8:53AM: I speak with Steve who confirms that the packages will be on their way to Karonga once the accounts department confirms my payment.
o 10:33AM: I board a mini-bus back to Karonga after exploring Mzuzu for a while.
o 2:01PM: I arrive home to the volunteer house in Karonga, greeted by a strip of toilet paper tape stretched between our porch pillars with a sign reading “Cross the Line for Success!” Molly, Kat, and Emily all came running out cheering and clapping and gave me high fives as I walked through the front door that had a specially made sign reading “Welcome Home!”

It was quite the adventure, and I hope I never have to do anything like it again.

After it all was finished, I asked Steve how I could avoid a situation like this in the future. He said, “Well, nothing that was in the packages was really an issue for customs. Most of it was simply foodstuff. The real issue was that what was on the customs form for declaration did not actually describe what was in the box. Next time, simply articulate what is in the package, while making sure that it doesn’t add up to more than $20-30 worth of materials. As long as it’s under that price, customs won’t care, and nobody is going to be interested enough in it to steal out of it.”

If I had only been friends with Steve a few weeks earlier.

Farewell Dugan

2008-10-08T10:12:00.003-05:00

Ryan Dugan left Karonga today. He's on his way to Tanzania, and after a brief stop in South Africa, will be heading home after 14 months in Africa.

Though I only spent 2 months living with Ryan, he has had a heavy impact on my experience thus far. His words of advice, counsel, support, and humor have gone a long way to make me feel at home. Particularly, I will never forget the way that he cared for and supported me while I was sick for my first two weeks here. He offered so much to me during that time, and treated me, from the first day, as if I was a member of his own family. For that, I cannot thank him enough.

I was extremely sad to see Ryan go, and he will be sorely missed in our community. However, it truly was a gift to have him here for these two months, so I cannot neglect to apprecaite the gift that he has been to me.

Thank you, Ryan.

Planet K Dot A

2008-10-08T10:02:00.006-05:00

Though we volunteers are working hard to serve our community here and engage the people and culture of this place, we also need some recreation and fun time to energize our service. This Sunday, the school threw a going away party for Ryan Dugan, who left today after serving here for 14 months, and a welcome party for the four of us who are new to this place.

The party went smoothly and was quite enjoyable, concluding with a small amount of dancing and some cold beverages. As the dancing ensued, one of our fellow staff members suggested we go out to Planet after the party finished. Planet K Dot A is the one and only dance club in Karonga, and it is a place that the volunteers have enjoyed visiting with fellow members of staff.

After a quick run home for some food and hydration, we loaded up into a pick-up truck and drove into town. We arrived at Planet around 8:30 or 9PM, and after getting a few drinks, we took over the dance floor for the next three hours.

In my short time here, I've already developed a strong fondness for Malawian music, so I was happy to hear a good bit of it there, but the Planet also plays a good bit of American hits. For those of you from UD, you can picture Planet K Dot A as the equivalent of Tim's only a little bit cleaner, a little bit classier, and with mirrors all over the walls. (The mirrors proved to be a great deal of fun to dance with.) One other thing you will find at Planet K Dot A is the very forward Malawian men who are quite aggressive in dancing with Muzungus (white people), male or female. At times, it felt like a sporting event trying to dodge, distract, and displace the local dancers who were getting a bit too personal; nonetheless, it was a good time!

Below is a self-captured photo of Molly, our friend Chimwemwe(means Joy in Chichewa), and myself dancing in front of the mirrors.

I think I have a hot.

2008-10-06T09:45:00.002-05:00

Yep...I have a hot.

What's a hot you may be wondering...

Well, it's much like a cold: running, stuffed nose; sore, itchy throat; a nasally voice; and much less energy than normal. The only difference is that it's 110 degrees Fahrenheit outside, unlike the below-freezing temperatures that normally usher in the common cold. And now, it's even a bit worse because the heat make you sweaty, and I want to do anything but the normally comforting activities of cuddling up in a warm blanket, eating some hot chicken noodle soup, while sipping on some hot cocoa.

Luckily, it's not that bad, and I am starting to feel better already. Nonetheless, a hot is definitely just as annoying as a cold.

Adaptation and Change

2008-10-03T01:27:00.000-05:00

Every morning, I wake up and spend about 15-20 minutes doing yoga stretches. I’ve known for some time that I’m not a morning person, and my yoga/meditation time is my way of waking myself up and preparing myself to respond to the world with love rather than a bunch of grumpy grunts and moans. I need that time. Without it, I’m tight and stiff, lacking energy, and unhappy when others ask something of me; and I don’t just mean physically.

This morning, I had a very interesting conversation with my housemate Kat over breakfast. We were discussing our reasons for coming here, our priorities, and our hopes for being here. We talked about aspects of community living, simplicity, living in solidarity, and the actual work that we are doing. It got me thinking a little bit about flexibility.

All of us have hopes and goals for our life. We have responsibilities and work that we aim to accomplish. These things don’t necessarily have to change. Our hopes, goals, responsibilities, and direction of work can all remain the same over long periods of time. In fact, they can probably go without changing over our whole life time.

To live in community with people, however, requires constant adjustment to those people. Community living demands adaptation. In a community, people must be open to change; for if they aren’t, something is bound to break.

Living simply and in solidarity with the people around us also requires flexibility. It requires a constant openness to adjusting our style of living to match more appropriately with those who share this earth with us. We can’t simply determine how it is we wish to live and then set off living that way. Instead, we must be aware of and willing to conform to the needs of those around us. Otherwise, we’re not really living in solidarity with them—we’re just doing things our own way.

This brings me to my final point.

Aren’t we all in community with each other? Don’t we all share this earth together? Doesn’t what we do affect many others?

So how flexible are you? How willing are you to adjust to those around you? Are you aware of their needs? Are you willing to conform to those needs?

How open are you to adaptation and change? Or are you tight and stiff, unhappy when someone asks something of you?

For me, I think I need some more yoga time in my life. I still respond to the world with too many grumpy grunts and moans…and I don’t want to bind myself to breaking.

3 Baboons And 8 Hours Travelling

2008-10-02T15:30:00.000-05:00

Today, Matt, Kat, Molly, and I had to drive all the way down to Mzuzu. We thought we were going to pick out our Temporary Employment Permits (TEPs), which are what will enable us to stay in Malawi legally. Half of the trip between Karonga and Mzuzu is through the mountains. There are some gorgeous landscapes as we drive atop monstrous mountains with Lake Malawi to the east. As we pulled around one switchback, I looked out my window to find three large baboons squatting on the side of the road, startled by the sounds of our massive coach bus, and observing us with some fright as we chugged by. The boy next to me who I had made friends with by sharing some of my M&M’s pointed to them with a smile. I smiled and chuckled, appreciating the fact that I was in Africa and that I had just seen three wild baboons on the side of the road.

We got to Mzuzu to find our TEPs were not yet there. Instead, we had to pay the money for our TEPs, which would then be sent to Blantyre. After the money arrives in Blantyre, our TEPs would be sent to Mzuzu. At that time we will need to return to Mzuzu and have our passports stamped by immigration. However, our trip wasn’t a complete waste. We did receive letters which verify that our TEPs have been approved, and those letters verify that we are safe to stay in the country.

After a short meal and a few quick errands, we boarded a mini-bus (Which we got for 700 Kwacha!!! Our best price ever!!!) and made it home by 10PM. It’s a pretty drive, but at four hours each way, it’s exhausting.

Driving Stick In Africa

2008-10-01T14:05:00.000-05:00

One of the roles that the volunteers here at Chaminade take on is transporting students to the hospital in the school car in the evening after the school driver has gone home. Driving permits cost a great deal of money here, so very few Malawians can legally drive. Since all of us Americans have valid licenses, we get called on a lot to drive.

Tonight, there were a few students in the hospital, and the school needed someone to transport food to the students. Dugan, the regular volunteer driver, had just received a phone call from his parents back in the states; and when you get a call here from the states, it takes priority over everything else. Dugan had given me a short lesson in driving an African stick-shift last week, and he deemed I was fit to drive tonight. I got the keys from Mr. Nyangulu and recruited Emily as my co-pilot.

The trip there went quite smoothly—that is if you don’t count the ten minutes it took me to get out of the garage. My first issue was the fact that there was no light in the car or the garage, and I couldn’t tell if the gear stick was in reverse. The school car is a small pick-up truck that beeps when you put it in reverse, and so I rejoiced when I finally found reverse and heard the car start to beep. But then came my second issue. I first released the foot brake and then gradually began to lift the clutch; but we didn’t go any where. I pressed the gas a little, and the engine revved, but no movement. It took me another two minutes before I realized that I still had the parking break on; this was going to be an interesting ride. Luckily, though, things went very smoothly for the rest of our trip. The highlight of the adventure was on the way home when a massive black bull ran out into the middle of the road about ten feet in front of the car chasing an only mildly smaller brown cow. Maybe they heard I was throwing rocks at one of their friends today and wanted payback.

“That’s why we need a fence, Andy.”

2008-10-01T09:42:00.000-05:00

As I was finishing up that last post, Ryan, Matt, and I heard a loud “Mooooo” float into our room. The noise was a bit louder than usual, but cows commonly graze past our house, so we thought nothing of it.

A few minutes later, Ryan paused and, looking out his window, said “It’s eating your hay, dude.”

Matt said, “What?”

“It’s eating your hay.”

Just this past weekend, our soon-to-be garden was covered with rice stalks. These stalks will serve as ground covering to provide the ground shade from the sun, keeping the moisture in, while also reducing the erosion caused by the strong winds we experience and the heavy rains that are soon to come.

Our friendly neighborhood cow was standing in the middle of our garden, ruminating over our rice stalks.

Matt and I threw on our shirts—it’s not proper for Muzungus to be shirtless outside (See “Shirtless in Karonga”)—ran out the door, and proceeded to chuck rocks at the cow until it meandered off our property.

“That’s why we need a fence, Andy.”

SNOW DAY!!!

2008-10-01T09:27:00.000-05:00

THAT’S RIGHT! I HAD A SNOW DAY TODAY! …Well…kinda…

Much like a potential snow day, we went to bed last night expecting there to be classes while holding a small hope that classes would be cancelled. Also much like a potential snow day, we were told to tune into our radios this morning to hear the final verdict. I fell asleep last night aware of the work I would need to do today while discreetly crossing my fingers and hoping I would hear word that the schools would be closed.

To our hearts’ delights, we woke up to discover that there would be no school today! However, it was not snow that cancelled classes. In fact, the temperature reached near 40 degrees Celsius today (which is more than 100 degrees Fahrenheit), and the sun shined all day, keeping any sparkle of snow thousands of miles away.

Apparently, today is the day that Malawi celebrated the Muslim holiday of Ramadan. So why weren’t we confident that school would be closed today? Apparently, in Malawi, the day for celebrating Ramadan is not officially scheduled in advance. People have a good idea of when it will be, but, from what I have been told, the holiday is not declared until the morning after the moon is sighted. For the past few days, we have been without a moon, so last night, when the slightest sliver of the moon was sighted, today became the holiday. And just like a snow day, school was cancelled.

Shirtless in Karonga

2008-10-01T09:15:00.000-05:00

I’ve been working on grading and lesson planning much of today, and just now, I started reading through some of the emails I downloaded from the internet on Monday. It got dang-hot today, so it’s been nice to remain as sedentary as possible.

As I was reading my emails, I heard Matt say “Good idea, Dugan.”

Dugan replied, “Yeah, I don’t know why I had a shirt on.”

I stopped, looked at them both, and found them shirtless.

Without saying anything, I pulled off my shirt and resumed my email-reading; they both laughed.

It’s hot, and I’m going to miss Dugan.

Our Friend Frank

2008-09-30T09:56:00.002-05:00

When we got home from Nkhata Bay on Sunday, we found our back yard was transformed.
(The picture to the left shows Ryan Dugan, Matt Meyers, and Frank Kassandah digging out stumps from the 15-some Blue Gum trees we chopped down to make way for our garden. Blue Gum trees drink an excessive amount of water out of the soil and increases the acidity of the soil. We were extremely happy to knock them down.)

Last week, Matt, Molly, and Frank (one of our student workers) picked up a whole truck-load of rice-stalks to provide ground cover for our garden. Before we left for our weekend in Nkhata Bay, the rice-stalks were still in several massive piles outside our bedroom doors. However, when we returned home, the rice-stalks were neatly spread throughout our yard, with small sticks indicating the locations of the holes we had dug for tree-planting, and with the paths, which had been only previously drawn in the sand, now fully realized. When we asked Alick what had happened, he said in a very straightforward way, “Frank did it.”

Apparently Frank spent several hours on Saturday filling in the holes with manure, leveling the ground, spreading the rice-stalks, and making the paths—an incredible gift to us. This was something we had not asked him to do, and this was something he had no need to do; Frank amazes me.

Today, my appreciation of Frank continues to grow.

Matt and I accompanied Frank back to his house for the afternoon. He walked us through Chaminade’s campus, out into the village, and then down roads I had never gone. After about twenty minutes of walking, we veered of the road to find his modest yet beautiful clay house. After Frank changed, leaving us some time to play with his dog Spider, we walked down a winding path through his family’s property. Their land is a beautiful land owned by Frank’s uncle. Frank’s uncle allows Frank and his mom to farm the land, and you can tell they do a good job. We soon met the Lukula River, which cuts right along the edge of their property. Frank watered some of the plants in the garden that rests feet from the river. His mom soon arrived and greeted us in the local language. We could only share a few words, and we all laughed gently at the fact that our genuine efforts to communicate were far too limited. Frank then hacked down several stalks of sugar-cane, and the three of us enjoyed fresh sugar-cane while chatting with one another. The afternoon was a delight, but only mildly so compared to the delight it is to know Frank. Though the afternoon was simple, it was more than I could ask for: a simple sharing of time and friendship.

Matt and Frank have already begun to develop a beautiful friendship, and I hope that I can get to know Frank more. I cannot currently describe Frank in an adequate way, but I can say that he is one of the most modest, humble, hard-working, generous, kind-hearted, and friendly young men I have ever met. Frank is the same age as Matt and I, born just a few months after us. He is still in his third year of secondary school, but I feel that he carries more wisdom and understanding than Matt and I carry together.
This is just a taste of our friend Frank. I think he’s great, and I hope to share more about him in the months and years to come.

A Weekend In Western World

2008-09-28T09:49:00.001-05:00

This weekend my community made a trip to Myoka Village, a small resort on Lake Malawi located in Nkhata Bay, about 5 hours south of Karonga. This trip was in honor of Ryan Dugan, the volunteer who has been here for about 14 months who will be leaving next week. Ryan and the other volunteers had been to Myoka a number of times in the past year, and they found it to be a very refreshing taste of home. I, however, found it to be a bit overwhelming.

To begin with, the five hour ride on mini-buses is pretty draining. Imagine riding in a mini-van without air-conditioning with up to 21 other people. 22 was the top number I counted on the trip down. Riding in mini-buses is actually pretty fun, and I’m looking forward to more experiences in the mini-buses here in Africa. In all the experiences I’ve already had, there has always been something fun, interesting, exciting, or entertaining; however, they are far from luxury.

Then, once we arrived to Myoka, we walked into the main dining hall where we were met by somewhere between 20-30 white faces staring at us; I was literally hit with shock. This was the most white people I had seen in two months. I was expecting there to be other white people at this small resort, but I was not expecting the reality of it to shock me the way it did; and I didn’t like it.

Myoka is definitely a little tourist spot, catered to the white, western traveler looking for a cheap place to stay where they can eat, drink, and act like they were back home, away from Africa. I didn’t know what I was doing there. I had spent months preparing to leave home, working hard to raise money so that I could travel here, thousands of miles away from home, and yet there I was, plopped in a little resort that was designed to feel like the developed and western world from which I came.

Sure, I enjoyed and indulged in the food, I had a blast swimming in the water, and I was really happy to see another part of Africa. But in this context, in this place where so many people struggle to get the nutrition they need, where the health care is lacking at best, and where the education system is grasping to get by, I felt totally out of place; it seemed so unjust.

One benefit to the weekend was that it gave me a taste of what I will probably experience when I go back home, and it gave me foresight into the challenge it will be to adjust back to the US—and I’ve only been here for two months. However, that challenge is part of why I wanted to come here. One of my hopes for coming here was to place myself in the middle of the enormous gap between the rich and the poor so that, maybe, I could discern some way to bring the two a little bit closer together.

I’m not there yet, but my experience this weekend tells me that I’m heading in the right direction.

Time Stamps

2008-09-28T09:48:00.000-05:00

I just found out how to adjust the time zone for my time stamps! I don't have to adjust them from US time to Malawi time anymore! Woo Hoo!

Some Thoughts on Poverty

2008-09-24T10:41:00.002-05:00

Recently, I was reading a blog of a friend who is volunteering in Ecuador. She shared some of the thoughts she is having in response to living in an impoverished country, and so she inspired me to shoot out some of my own.

It's not much, but these are some brief words I shared with her:

I’m finding the struggle is not in living in one of the world’s poorest countries, but rather, the struggle for me is in knowing that despite the fact that I’m here, I am still so far from actually being in it. The color of my skin, my educational background, the 20-some years of living with excellent health care, even my meager stipend, all of it separates me from actually knowing what it is to live like the poor. It is an immense struggle to deal with the fact that there is, for the time being, little that I can do to narrow the gap between the privilege I possess and the poverty that the people around me are faced to handle.

Just some thoughts to chew on. I'm quite excited to feel content posting a blog that isn't 700 words. :)

"How does one control these types of feelings?"

2008-09-21T09:54:00.001-05:00

I think I'm going to like teaching. But it's also going to be quite a challenge.

As I mentioned in a previous post, last week was my first time teaching a class. In my Social Studies class, we are currently covering the topic of Adolescence. I'm teaching them about the physical and psychological changes that occur and the opportunities and challenges that arise during that time.

(By the way, I must send a giant thank you to Dr. Picca and the Sociology of Sexuality class I took during my last term at UD. If it weren't for that course, talking about puberty and the physical changes of adolescence would have been a million times more difficult. But thanks to that class, I was not only able to talk about the topic with confidence and ease, but it was actually quite fun and fulfilling to be informing these students about things that some Malawian teachers would steer miles away from.)

One of the subtopics under psychological changes is Interest In The Opposite Sex. (Soc. of Sex. Sidenote: Malawi is most definitely a heavily heterocentric society, so I might have been deported if I introduced the possibility of someone actually being interested in the same sex. Maybe when I'm teaching the course next year I'll look into bringing up that issue. For this year, I'm just going to try to stick to the curriculum the government has asked me to teach: baby steps.) The textbook explained that "it is natural for boys and girls to begin having romantic feelings for the opposite sex." I could get into the sex and gender issues of Malawi, but I think I will hold off on that discourse until I get more familiar with things here. The point of this blog is focused on the types of questions I have already begun receiving as a teacher.

When I passed over the point about romantic feelings, one student raised his hand and asked, "What does 'romantic feelings' mean?" After I explained that romantic feelings are feelings of attraction and love, which cause you to desire to spend time with them, another boy, quite genuinely, raised his hand and asked, "How does one control these types of feelings?"

A bit taken back, I paused. A few students snickered and smiled, and I wasn't exactly sure how to answer the question. As an escape, I offered, "That is a very good question. However, it doesn't exactly fit with the material you need to know, so if you'd like, you can come ask me about that sometime out of class time. Okay?" He nodded, and we continued on with the topic.

I wasn't expecting the student to actually come ask me how one controls romantic feelings they may have for another, so I was once again stunned when a group of students followed me out of the class room stopping to say, "Sir. So how is it that you control those feelings?"

Wow, I thought. They genuinely want to know.

By no means was my response an excellent one. I knew they had recently covered a topic on virtues and vices. I drew a little from that, feeling that would be something concrete that they could take away from their inquiry. And then I suggested some ideas for converting the energy they have for the other person into energy used for constructive activities. Again, by no means was it an excellent answer. My focus here is not on my response, but rather on the question, the way it was asked, and the sincerity with which they desired guidance.

It is quite flattering to be trusted as a reliable source of information and guidance. But at the same time, it demands a solid understanding of self and of life. It requires an understanding of what can be answered and what can't be answered. It requires knowledge, and it requires humility. I think I'm going to like teaching. But it sure is going to be a challenge.

MIRACLE: A whole different spirit

2008-09-20T15:52:00.000-05:00

Molly came home from MIRACLE for lunch yesterday and informed us that we were invited to a welcoming and farewell party for the incoming and outgoing staff members who work with MIRACLE. We had heard about this party earlier in the week, but we weren’t sure if we were invited. We heard about the party as a farewell party for Br. Bill, who has been the director of MIRACLE for some time. It turns out that Br. Bill didn’t want the party to be in honor of him, and not only were we invited, but as the new volunteers, we would be guests of honor.

I didn’t know what time the party started, so I ended up showing up late, but when I arrived, I had a seat waiting for me next to Madame Principle, the principle of MIRACLE. (I think it’s hilarious that they call here Madame Principle.)

When I arrived, I was given a snack of plantain and chicken, which was pretty delicious. Then after getting a mineral (pop), we were informed that there would be a fashion show. As the music started, several of the young, male MIRACLE teachers proceed to come out dancing in chitenje’s, skirts of fabric. They danced around, shaking their hips, and flaunting their feminine qualities. This would have been hilarious in the US, but being in the ultra conservative culture of Malawi, the humor jumped off the charts. It had everyone laughing out loud.

But this was just the beginning. Shortly thereafter, a short arm-wrestling skit between two of the male teachers began. The skit was simple, but the enthusiasm and expression of the two actors made the skit entirely entertaining. They then had a dance off, with one of them balancing a glass coke bottle on his head, which eventually fell from his head, hitting the ground and shattering all over the floor. Not too long after, they called all of the incoming staff to the center of the room for a game.

One thing you should know about Malawian parties is that they are held in a large enough room in which table and chair could be arranged in a square with the guests of honor at one end, a chairman of the program in the center of the right hand side of the guests of honor, and a wide open floor in the middle. This open floor is where all of the games, entertainment, and dancing took place.

The game they called us up for ended up being Musical Chairs, and Matt and I were the ones who made it to the finals. When the music stopped, we both grabbed the chair and began trying to position ourselves in it. I believe I rightfully won, but because of a misunderstanding about having to sit in the chair without picking it up, Matt was declared the victor, earning himself an extra mineral.

Then, shortly before dinner began, someone brought out a rope and decided that we should have a tug-of-war tournament. Four teams were put together, and we proceeded to begin the tournament. Unfortunately, the rope that was chosen was thin and ripped within the first seconds of the first tug. A delay was posted for the tournament, and dancing commenced for about fifteen minutes, after which someone immerged with a different, heavy duty rope. The first two teams pulled a rematch. My team lost and was out of the tournament. The tournament continued with some debate because the teams that lost were always on one side. Eventually, a winning team was declared, only to be followed by a few personal challenges which continued on until the chairman began to introduce the speeches.

The speeches commenced, lasting between 20-30 minutes and involving an open floor for anyone who would like to comment on the incoming or outgoing staff members. We then shared a prayer over the meal and we ate. Following the meal, the floor opened for dancing, which continued on for a few hours.

Throughout this entire evening, it was easy to see the lively spirit held by the MIRACLE staff, and the general willingness to be silly, have fun, and enjoy each others’ company. The staff at Chaminade also likes to have fun, and many of them are very enthusiastic dancers. However, there seemed to be a distinct difference between the two staffs in the way that the MIRACLE staff felt free to be goofy, silly, and just have fun. Matt and I discussed this difference, and we came up with two possible causes. For one, the staff at MIRACLE applies to work at MIRACLE, is interviewed, and is accepted on an individual basis determined by their ability to mesh with the MIRACLE mission. For Chaminade, the staff is placed at the school by the Ministry of Education, and some of them, it seems, would prefer to be elsewhere. Additionally, the position of a teacher at a secondary school is rather elite. Secondary school teachers carry a lot of status with them. In contrast, teachers at a trade school do not carry as much status, and so as a result, may not have as many reservations as someone who is placed on a pedestal as an elite member of society. In any case, there is definitely a warm, welcoming, and energetic spirit at MIRACLE that is not as apparent at Chaminade. While this makes working at MIRACLE much more attractive, I think it also calls us to try to offer whatever we can to the Chaminade community. I’d love to see the type of spirit MIRACLE already has come alive at Chaminade. We will see what we can do in the months ahead.

My First Class!

2008-09-17T16:22:00.000-05:00

I just finished teaching my first class ever! That's pretty exciting to say! And it went quite well!

The class, however, wasn't for Chaminade, where I'm officially placed as a teacher. It was actually at MIRACLE, the trade school on the other side of campus.

Ryan Dugan, one of the former volunteers, took on a Self Awareness class at MIRACLE to help out there. Since Ryan is leaving in a little less than a month, he needed someone to take over for him. I will have two sections for the class. One section is the first year electrical students and the other is the first year carpentry students. There will be a noticeable difference between the two sections, as the electrical students are all requireed to have finished secondary school. The carpentry students, on the other hand, may not have had any secondary school.

The class is focused on things like self development, good health habits, HIV/AIDS, planning, and entrepenuership. Today, I began teaching about good health habits, a topic that I'm interested in on a personal level, and one that my psychology background has informed quite well. Since today was the electrical class, I could tell that much of the topic was a review for them. However, I could see their interest spark when I threw in some additional points about how exercise releases different endorphins, touching on how dopamine, seratonin, and norepinephrine work. It was really fun to use some of my psych knowledge, even if only on a basic level.
The carpentry class may be a bit more challenging in that, from what Ryan has informed me, they aren't as quick to respond to questions or engage in discussion. In any case, I think this will be a fun class for me, and I'm looking forward to being a little involved with MIRACLE.

Tomorrow is my first class at Chaminade. I have a section at 7AM and a section at 7:40AM. In the states, I was typically sound asleep at those times. Luckily, I'm beginning to wake up with the sunrise, which here, is sometime around 5:45AM, everyday. I never thought I'd be waking up anywhere near that time without an alarm, but it's actually pretty cool. I'll probably set an alarm for tomorrow, though, just to make sure I'm up and ready. Wish me luck, and I'll let you know how it goes.

A Change in Personnel

2008-09-13T13:46:00.000-05:00

It is with some sadness that the MVP volunteers learned that three of the Marianist brothers here in Karonga will be leaving us soon. Due to needs in other parts of the District of East Africa, Fr. Richard, Bro. Bill, and Bro. Mazunda will be leaving at different times over the next few months. However, we won’t be left alone. With these brothers leaving, there are new brothers being moved here. Two of the three brothers coming have actually already lived and worked here, so their adjustment should be relatively easy. And from what we understand, all of the brothers who are coming are quite young and quite energetic. Apparently, all this has been in the works for some time, but I find it interesting that this is starting to happen after the struggles that have met Chaminade. I think it is a very encouraging thing that the Marianists are filling the large gaps left by the three outgoing brothers with some younger brothers who may be more able to relate and connect with the boys at Chaminade. Though I am definitely sad to see Fr. Richard, Bro. Bill, and Bro. Mazunda go, I’m very excited to meet the new brothers.

In response to the departure of these brothers, who, combined, have given over forty years of service to Chaminade and MIRACLE, Chaminade put on a grand going away party last night. It was an extremely formal event; however, I suppose every Malawian event is extremely formal by American standards. The evening was set to begin at 5PM. It seems that I am really starting to get used to things here because I was not at all surprised by the fact that we didn’t even leave our house until a quarter after six, and only did so upon hearing that Fr. Richard and Br. Bill were heading over. After some time for socializing, the program started at 6:45 and proceeded with a serious of welcomes, speeches, beverage distributions, dinner, more speeches, gift giving, and finally, dancing! This was the first event I attended where there was dancing, and boy did I love it! Though the style of dancing here is very different than in the US, it is still incredibly enjoyable. In fact, it may be even more enjoyable here, because EVERYONE dances. The dancing here is much slower and smoother, which also makes sense considering the fact that it is pretty hot here most of the year; any extravagant dancing would earn you a sweaty body in no time. But even though the dancing is slower and smoother, by no means do the Malawians mess around. Many of them are pretty hard core dancers, and there is no lack of passion, excitement, or enjoyment. It was really cool to see all the other teachers there and to see them in this light. Perhaps the best part of the night was the fact that our two cooks Alick and Vicki were able to attend. Since they both attended MIRACLE, they both have know Fr. Richard and Bro. Bill for some time. It was absolutely wonderful to sit with Alick and Vicki at the same table, right next to each other, sharing a meal, engaging in conversation, and even doing a good bit of dancing with them. It was a blast, and the evening is definitely one of my highlights here so far.

PERMACULTURE! (Part Two)

2008-09-11T14:03:00.000-05:00

After meeting Kenneth and Dennis last week, we set up our first meeting with them for this week. This morning, the two of them met with us, surveyed our land, and sat down with us to discuss some of the fundamentals of permaculture and to develop our action plan for the next three months. Since Matt and I are already sensitized to permaculture and are gung-ho for it, we were able to get started on the planning and design. Our preliminary action plan is as follows:

September
-Planning and Design
-Uproot Blue Gum trees in our backyard. (Blue gums drain all the water in the soil and raise the soil acidity to deadly levels.)
-Mulch entire backyard and create walking paths. (Walking paths are needed so the ground is not compacted where you want to plant.)
-Create compost piles.
-Obtain manure to enrich soil.
-Develop nursery.

October
-Continue mulch, compost, and manure
-Construct fencing to keep livestock out; also, find funding for fencing.
-Construct Chicken Tractors. (Chicken Tractors are moveable chicken cages that restrict the damage chickens can do by scratching the soil while also enabling the gardener to focus their droppings in certain areas for fertilizing.)
-Plant fruit plants and water them. (Water costs big money here, so this is quite an investment.) We plan on planting a mango tree (a local breed and a hybrid), a guava tree, a paw paw tree, banana trees, an orange tree, masuko, and harare. (I don’t know what those last two are, but apparently they are great!)
-Plant the guilds. (Guilds are a major aspect of permaculture philosophy. There are seven categories of plants in a permaculture guild: food for people, food for the soil, ground coverings, protectors, supporters, diggers, and climbers. Each of those categories contains a variety of plants that support the garden in some way. It is the interaction and interdependence of these categories of plants that enable the permaculture garden to become a permanent garden. With proper planning and design, once these guilds are developed, they should take care of themselves, resulting in more abundant and more resilient produce.)

November
-Continue mulch, compost, and manure.
-Manage guilds.
-Complete guilds.
-Create any needed additional pathways.

With all of this, it’s safe to say Matt and I are quite excited. Our main concern right now is finding the funding we need for our own garden. According to Fr. Richard, one of the Marianists, Chaminade has a sizeable sum of money for food security. That money should be able to fund at least the start of our work at Chaminade. But before we get there, we need to get our model garden up and running. Ryan Dugan, one of the outgoing volunteers, has allocated some money he had received as a donation that did not already have a destination. However, Matt and I may need to do some more work to get this garden off the ground.

PERMACULTURE! (Part One)

2008-09-11T13:46:00.000-05:00

Last week, Matt and I finally got to meet Lieza Swennen, a permaculture specialist from Namibia who lives about 20 or 30km from Karonga. She has been working for the government, training different people in permaculture and developing permaculture gardens at primary schools throughout the northern region of Malawi. She has been living in Malawi for about 12 years and lives with her family on a permaculture oasis that she has developed to use as a model to show others the power potential of permaculture.

She met Matt and I here at our house where we showed her the land we have to work with, the layout and terrain of Chaminade, and discussed her work, our hopes, and how the two will hopefully come together.

After getting us all excited about permaculture by describing her experiences here in Malawi, she took us to two different primary schools a short distance north of Karonga. At those two schools she introduced us to Kenneth and Dennis, two local Malawians who she has trained as permaculture specialists and who she considers to be two “role model” permaculturalists.

Kenneth and Dennis will be our two main advisors for our project here at Chaminade. But before we take on the major task of bringing permaculture to Chaminade, we must first get a strong feel for it in our own backyard.

Since permaculture is a different philosophy of farming than traditional agriculture, it requires a good deal of sensitization. Many people have never heard of permaculture, and in many ways, it contradicts and conflicts with traditional agriculture. Since in most parts of the world, including Malawi, traditional agriculture has taken deep roots, permaculture can often be met with resistance. Educating people on the philosophy of permaculture and gaining their support in its somewhat radical approach is absolutely critical for any permaculture program to succeed. This sensitization is our first task in order to reach our goal of developing permaculture gardens at Chaminade. And in order to achieve that task, Matt and I are going to first focus on developing a functioning permaculture garden at our own house. Lieza argued that the best way to win people over is to show them exactly how effective permaculture can be by doing it yourself. Showing them a living and thriving permaculture garden will do the work of winning their interest. And once you have the interest, everything else will come much more easily.

A Stop in Tanzania

2008-09-07T14:29:00.000-05:00

It was just about a month ago that we arrived to Kamuzu International Airport in Lilongwe, Malawi. Since we are still waiting on our Temporary Employment Permits to pass, we had to ask for a visitor’s visa, which is only good for 30 days. This means our 30 day visa would expired tomorrow, and we’d soon be illegal immigrants worthy of some incredibly massive fines as well as possible deportation. If the Karonga Immigration Office had been open, we would have easily extended our visas last week. But since it wasn’t, we needed to find a way to get our passports stamped.

Singini, one of our friends from our great Coke challenge, told us that he was going up to the Tanzanian border the next morning to buy some sofas. We could ride with him and stop at the immigration office on the border, which is only about 40km from Karonga. This sounded like a good option, considering our only other option would be to pay for a minibus to take us down to Mzuzu, which is about four hours away. The office in Mzuzu closes at Noon on Saturdays, so if we chose that route, we’d have to get up long before the sun rose to ensure that we caught a minibus that would get us down there in time.

We called around and did some research, and everything suggested that we would probably be able to get our visa extension at the border. There were a few things suggesting that we wouldn’t be able to, that the only thing you can do at the border is get an exit stamp to leave Malawi, then enter Tanzania, (which carries a $100US visa cost), then leave Tanzania, simply to get a new entry stamp into Malawi. We were willing to take our chances, since the majority of our sources suggested that this wouldn’t be the case.

We scheduled to meet Singini at the hospital at 7:00AM. The Karonga District Hospital is just on the other side of the Airport from Chaminad, and is about a 30 minute walk from our house. We left around 6:20AM, while the sun was still rising, and arrived at KDH a good ten minutes before seven. However, because of the crowd of people near the entrance, including cargo (bike taxi) drivers who saw money written all over our white skin, we chose to sit about 100 meters down the road. We expected Singini to show up in a car, and since we were the only white people in sight, we figured he’d be able to spot us pretty easily.

Around 7:20, Singini came walking up saying, “Here you are!” He had been looking for us near the entrance, and only found us when he asked someone if they had seen any Muzungus come by. The man quickly pointed, “Oh yeah! They’re sitting right down there.” Singini told us he had to stop in town first, so we followed him toward the main road into town. When we arrived there, he called over four cargo drivers, offering to pay. Okay, we weren’t expecting to ride cargo, but since he was paying, we could go with it.

This was my first cargo experience, and I must say, it’s a lot of fun! The way cargo works is you just sit on the back of the bike. All the bikes here have the little frame that sits over the rear wheel where you can strap packages to the back. Here, though, you can put anything there, including people! They are the Malawian equivalent of taxis in the US. Though I was worried I would loose my balance and cause us to tip over, I found it extremely easy to sit on the back of the bike with someone else peddling. And even though I was just sitting on a frame of metal bars, it was actually quite comfortable. To make things even better, the breeze you get from riding at about 20km/h is absolutely refreshing, especially when you don’t have to do any of the work! Though I’d normally feel extremely strange having someone ride me into town, this is absolutely a typical form of transportation for many Malawians. Our ride cost about 150 Kwacha, which is about $1US: cheaper than a bus ride in Chicago.

When we got to town, Singini informed us he had to drop something off to a friend. His friend is one of the shop owners in the new part of town, and Singini very kindly introduced us to him. He was a very friendly guy, who was genuinely excited to welcome us to Karonga. Then Singini had to go to the bank. He originally planned on just running up to the ATM, but apparently the ATM only lets you take out a couple thousand Kwacha, and so he needed to go inside and wait in line to get all of the money he needed to buy his sofas. He finally came out, and it is then that we found out that we’d be taking a taxi (a car one, like in the US) up to the border. This was our first knowledge of this, and we began wondering if we would have been better off, at least financially, going down to Mzuzu.

We got up to the border pretty quickly, and very comfortably compared to a minibus, even with the mother and her child who were sharing the back seat of a four-door sedan with Singini, Molly, and myself. Singini escorted us directly to the immigration office where he spoke in vernacular a little bit to get things going. Though the morning didn’t go exactly as we expected, we were deeply appreciative of Singini’s help. We eventually got everything taken care of, and with a short stay in Tanzania, we were able to come back into Malawi for another month. Hopefully, at the end of this month, the office in Karonga will be open, and we’ll be able to get our visa extension without all the travel.

Then, for our ride home, the three of us decided to take a mini-bus. This was my first mini-bus experience in Malawi, and it was a pretty great one. It all started with a woman jumping on the bus, sitting in Molly’s lap, and arguing with the driver and the conductor about something. We couldn’t tell what she was arguing about because it was in a different language, but she was definitely upset. From what I could tell, it seemed that she believed she deserved a ride from the driver while the driver and the conductor believed she didn’t. After a few minutes of yelling, all of which occurred with the young woman sitting on Molly’s lap, flailing about, she resigned and got off of the minibus. And though the seat Matt and I were on in the very back of the bus didn’t seem attached, was falling apart, and had clear signs of failed attempts at reconstruction, we made it back to Karonga, safe and sound. Then we just had the hour and a half walk back home. And did I mention that it was just after noon when we got back to Karonga, so our hour and a half walk was during the hottest part of the day. Also, the majority of that walk is down paths of soft sand. (Boy do we take sidewalks for granted in the US.) It’s a good thing I had put on sunscreen that morning; I felt so prepared.

Coming out of this experience, and the great Coca Cola wait, I have discovered that things are definitely not as easy to accomplish here as they are in the US. That is the lesson of my first month in Africa, and I’m sure it’s a lesson I will continue to learn during the rest of my stay.

All this for a Coke? (So much for keeping these things short.)

2008-09-07T13:32:00.001-05:00

This Friday started off without much of an agenda. Actually, I had no plans at all. The students don’t return to Chaminade until September 13, so we still don’t have too much to do. I took my time eating breakfast, did a little bit of reading, and then planned on spending an hour or so writing emails before lunch. I was just getting started with an email that I should have sent two weeks ago when I hear a car horn beep from our front yard. Then, Molly comes running calling for Matt and I, asking if we are ready to go. What? Ready to go? Where?

Apparently Molly had texted and called Matt’s phone to tell him that Bro. Bill was willing and able to take us to the immigration office in town so that we could get our temporary visas extended, and apparently, Bro. Bill was in a hurry.

Matt and I quickly got dressed, grabbed our passports, and ran out the door. We figured we wouldn’t be too long, since Bro. Bill had a meeting to get to, so we didn’t even tell Alick, expecting that we’d be back for lunch.

Well, we got to immigration only to find they were closed…for the second day in a row. Apparently some of the workers were being transferred to another location, other workers were on holiday during the transfers, and all the other workers decided not to come in since everyone else was out. Sweet. Our 30-day visitor’s visas expired on Monday, and no one at immigration wanted to work. So about 20 minutes after we left our house, we found out that we wouldn’t be able to get our passports stamped in Karonga; we’d have to figure something else out. But for the time being, we had two errands to run.

Our two errands were pretty simple, so we definitely figured we’d be back for lunch since we spent very little time at immigration. Bro. Bill needed to stop at the bank, and then he needed to pick up five cases of Coke for MIRACLE. Simple enough, but both were very important. On Monday, MIRACLE will be having in-take interviews for people who are applying to attend MIRACLE. I’ve discovered that it is customary to serve minerals (what pop is called here) to people who are in meetings for more than an hour or two. I’ve also discovered that people get pretty upset if you fail to provide minerals in such scenarios, so the Coke wasn’t an option; Bro. Bill NEEDED to get Coke for Monday.

We first stopped at Metro, the Malawian equivalent of a Walgreen’s, only with far less of a selection and a few things you would probably never find at Walgreen’s, such as giant bags of maize flour. Metro was all out of Coke. Crap. What were we going to do? Well, apparently the Coke truck had just arrived at the Bus Depot. When shipments of Coke come into Karonga, they first get dropped off at the Bus Depot, so the workers at Metro suggested we swing by there, where we should be able to get some.

Bro. Bill decided to make his run to the bank, and then we would head over to the Bus Depot.

We got everything taken care of at the bank, and pulled into the Bus Depot. The truck was still there, and a sizeable line of people with empty Coke cases was standing along the fence, waiting. This didn’t look to promising. We grabbed our empty Coke cases (Coke is sold in glass bottles here and you pay a MAJOR deposit on the bottle, so it’s quite impractical to buy Coke without first returning empty bottles.) Bro. Bill seemed to know where he was going, so we followed him, only to meet a man who looked like he was directing all the workers who told us they were not taking any customers until they finished loading the truck with empty bottles. There were twenty-some workers feverishly loading crate after crate of empty Coke and Carlsburg (the Malawian beer) bottles onto the truck. We looked, and it appeared that they were about half-way finished filling up the truck, so Bro. Bill got in line, and we decided to wait. Bad choice.

A good forty minutes went by, and they were still filling up the truck. Apparently it takes a really long time to fill up a truck with empty crates of glass bottles. Just then, Jennifer Feldmeier, the mother of the Feldmeier family pulled up in her Land Cruiser. She informed us that she had been by a few hours earlier to see if she could get Coke at which point they were unloading the new Coke cases from the truck. She was told that they were going to take any customers until the finished unloading the truck. Since they were more than three-quarters finished filling the truck with empties, she decided to get in line with Bro. Bill, figuring they’d soon start taking customers. Not so.

The truck finished loading, and the waiting continued. The truck engine started up, a sign of hope for us that they’d soon start taking customers. Well, the truck waited there for a good fifteen minutes before it even pulled away. Now the truck is gone, they should start taking customers, right. Not so much. The waiting continued.

It was now approaching 2PM, and we had been there for almost two hours. Matt, Molly, and I entertained ourselves by talking, interacting with a few local boys, and people watching. We were later given the advice that we should always bring a book whenever we go into town because chances are you’ll be there all day. Since we hadn’t yet received that advice, we had nothing to do but to enjoy each others’ company.

Then, the line finally started moving! Jubilation! They were taking customers!!!

The line moved slowly, but it was moving. We had hopes of getting out of there pretty soon. But wait. What just happened?

The gate just closed. The line stopped moving. And they were not taking any more empty cases. It appeared that after taking in twenty or so people’s worth of empty cases, the crew behind the fence decided to focus their energy on selling the full Coke cases. Perhaps after paying out the return deposits, they had to sell the new bottles so they would have enough money to pay out more return deposits. I could understand that necessity, but boy did it stink.

Jennifer was clearly upset. She began to carry one of her cases back to her car. Apparently she had a meeting she needed to get to at 2PM. It was ten minutes to two. Matt kindly offered our assistance. She could leave her cases with us, and we could return them for her and get some new ones for her: our second mistake. Now we were responsible for someone else’s minerals, so even if we wanted to leave, it wasn’t just MIRACLE’s Coke that we were failing to get; we’d also be failing to get someone else’s Coke. She was extremely grateful and took us up on the offer. However, we had forgotten that Bro. Bill also had a meeting to get to. And so did Molly. As did Singini and Kasunga, the two Malawians who work at MIRACLE who had come with us. Apparently, MIRACLE’s meeting was at 2PM as well, so, understandably, Bro. Bill wasn’t at all happy about our offer to Jennifer, but he obliged nonetheless. A short time later, Madame Malwanda, the chairperson of Chaminade’s Board of Directors came by. She asked why they weren’t taking any customers, and we filled her in on what had been going on. Seeing Bro. Bill in line, only three people from the gate, she decided she would add her two cases to the pile. So now, we had ten cases of empty Coke bottles that we were waiting to return. Now we were in it for the long haul.

Eventually, the group of workers came back to the gate. A definite surge toward the gate ensued, and luckily, Singini and Kasunga were able to maneuver their way through the gate, speak some of the local language, and get our cases through the door just before they closed the gate back up. We returned our empty bottles! Half the battle was won!

Matt, Molly, and I decided then to just find a spot in the shade, and wait this last part out. We had been watching the outflow of Coke cases, and we felt confident that it wouldn’t be too much longer before we had our hard-earned treasure of Coke. By this point, in the US, if all you had to do was pick up a few cases of Coke, you could run into any grocery store and be out in about 5 minutes. Here in Karonga, it took probably another 30 minutes for Bro. Bill to emerge victorious. We all ran over to help him load the cases into the truck. We gave Madame Malwanda her two cases, and then finally, after three hours of waiting in the hot, African sun, we were departing with our cases of Coke. We weren’t going home yet, though. Remember? We still had to drop off Jennifer’s cases, which surely would involve at least a 15 minute visit with their family. Oh, and then on the way home we had to stop for petro (gas) to fill up the truck.

It was about 4:35PM when we got home for lunch. We had left our house sometime around 10:30AM. All of this for a little bit of Coke.

And what about our passport stamps? This deserves a new post.

Big Game Cancelled While Teachers Bond

2008-09-03T20:23:00.001-05:00

Our highly anticipated match up against the Marianist Brothers of East Africa was cancelled due to an all staff meeting with the administration, representatives from the Archdiocese, and representatives from the Ministry of Education, including the District Educational Manager, who, from everything I could tell, is a really big deal.

The worst part of it all, though, is that the meeting that caused the cancellation of the game lasted about 25 minutes and was scheduled for 9AM. You might be wondering, “How in the world could a 25 minute meeting at 9 in the morning cancel a volleyball match set for 4:30 in the afternoon?” Well, I think this was my biggest lesson to date of how things work on Africa time.

At about 8:30AM on Wednesday morning, we received a memo from the school office stating we had a staff meeting at 9AM. Somewhat disappointed that we were probably going to lose at least a few hours of our morning, we all got dressed and walked over to the summer hut, the place where the teachers spend most of our break time. We arrived only to find that most of the staff was not there, the head master was walking back and forth, and no one really knew what the plan was. This wasn’t too unusual from what I’ve experienced so far.

At 10:08AM (I remember because by that point I had pulled out my journal and began writing in it), the headmaster came over to inform us that the board of directors, the representatives from the Archdiocese, and the Ministry of Education were all coming for a meeting with the administration. He also informed us that the administration would meet with them first, and then the rest of staff would meet with them. He was not sure how long it would take for the first meeting, but that they hoped to be finished by 1PM, so we should stay available so that once the first meeting ended, we could proceed to have the all staff meeting.

Already having a few Malawian meetings under my belt, I knew that this first meeting would take at least an hour, and would likely take two hours. It would then be about lunch time, so everyone would go home for lunch, so I felt pretty safe coming back home and waiting to receive word that the first meeting had ended.

We went home, ate lunch and 1PM came around with no word that the meeting had ended. Since the administration had hoped to meet with us and finish that meeting before 1PM, we figured that we should go back over to the summer hut to check things out. I took my time and got over to the summer hut around 1:30 to find most of the teachers sitting in the summer hut, a hint that perhaps something was going to happen soon. No more than two minutes went by when one of the teachers stood up and said, “The food is ready. Let’s get up and eat.” We proceeded to the geography room where a massive lunch was prepared for the teachers: apparently a “sitting allowance” for the teachers who had been waiting all day for a meeting that hadn’t happened. We all ate lunch and then went back to the summer hut. The waiting continued.

As 4:30 drew nearer and nearer, we became more worried that our volleyball game was not going to happen. Two of the brothers were in the administration meeting, and even if that finished, the rest of us would have to meet, so things weren’t looking good.

Despite all of this waiting, the day actually turned out to be pretty fun. One of the Malawian teachers, Mr. N’gambi and one of the volunteers Matt Meyers provided plenty of entertainment for the rest of the teachers. We had conversations ranging from US politics, the election, Malawian politics, economics, goats, puppies, dogs, football (soccer), and a plethora of other topics. All the while, Matt was making fun of this meeting, which, with each hour passing, became “history in the making” as one of the Malawians phrased it.

It ended up being 5:47PM when the administration meeting came to a finish. Somewhat excited, somewhat frustrated, the teachers all filed into the staff room to be updated on what the administration had discussed. When we sat down and got started, the first piece of business was an apology. Apparently, there was a misunderstanding between the administration and the headmaster, and the rest of us weren’t actually supposed to meet at all. By this point, it didn’t even matter; we didn’t even care. We just wanted to hear what the news was. They all were very cordial about the mistake, and they decided to meet with us and fill us in as a sign of appreciation for all of our patience. We were then given a 20 minute summary of what was discussed, including the accusation that some teachers were suspected to be behind the events that had unfolded the week before and an admonishment that this type of behavior should cease immediately. With that, the meeting ended, and we all went home for dinner. What a day.

Volleyball Mania

2008-09-03T19:45:00.000-05:00

One exciting event that took place during the first weekend after Chaminade went on break was an afternoon volleyball game with all my housemates, the Feldmeiers (our Australian friends who work at Lusubilo, [“Hope” in Ngonde] the orphan care center in town), and the Marianist brothers.

We invited the Feldmeiers to come over with the plans to play a game of volleyball with them the same way we played volleyball the first night we met them at Chris and Anne’s (an Australian couple working for Paladin, a Uranium mining company) house. Well, since Br. Chola, the Marianist District Superior of East Africa, and Fr. Gabriel, another Marianist from the District Office, were in town, we invited them to play with us as well. Though they were shocked by the time we silly American Muzungus chose to play—2:00PM on a Sunday afternoon, close to the hottest part of the day—they actually showed up, geared up in athletic shorts and sneakers, ready to play.

Since Br. Hanson is probably the only brother under 30, I was at first not expecting them to show, and at second was not expecting them to be any good. I was wrong on both accounts. In total, 6 of the 7 Marianist brothers showed up to play, including Br. Bill, an American Marianist who is probably in his late 50s. And even more incredible, they were all really good! I was absolutely astonished by how our games were actually quite competitive! Not in a million years did I expect to come to Africa and find so many volleyball enthusiasts!

We ended up playing for about three and a half hours, and everyone had a blast. Since Br. Chola and Fr. Gabriel were going to be in town for the rest of the week, the volunteers decided that we wanted to challenge the Marianists to a game against just us later in the week. The losing team would be responsible for making a dessert for the winning team. We scheduled the game for 4:30PM on the following Wednesday. Unfortunately, however, we never got to play that game, but the reason why deserves a whole different post.

Blogs and Naps

2008-08-31T13:37:00.001-05:00

So it’s been almost two weeks since I last posted a blog. Sneakily, blogspot allows me to set the date and time of my post, so the date and time don’t necessarily reflect when my blogs are posted. I try to set the date and time to reflect the order in which I write the blogs. In any case, my friend Jim Cosgrove from UD wrote to me in reference to my encyclopedia-length entries saying that I should “get my ass outside and play instead.” So maybe it’s a good thing that I haven’t written a blog in a while. After the short novel I wrote about the unexpected break at Chaminade, I’m hoping to keep my blogs under a few hundred words. (We’ll see if that actually happens.) At the same time, however, I really enjoy writing. And now that it’s getting pretty dang hot in the afternoons, the idea of sitting still and typing a blog with a fan 10 inches from my face is a much more attractive plan than getting fried outside.

And, on that note, you’ll be glad to hear that I’ve adopted the practice of siestas. (For your information, I haven’t necessarily seen that it is a part of the culture here. I’m simply bringing it here in my life from whatever parts of the world that practice siestas.) I now include plans in my daily schedule to take at least a brief nap after lunch during the hottest part of the day. Though it’s already getting up 95 degrees Fahrenheit outside, it’s not yet getting too hot in our bedroom to take a nap in front of a fan. It’s actually quite lovely. I’ll update you about my ability to take an afternoon nap when it starts getting up to 110 and 115 in the next month or two.

An Unexpected and Unfortunate Break; Some Rough Waters at Chaminade

2008-08-30T11:51:00.001-05:00

Despite the fact that the third term of the year just began three weeks ago, Chaminade Secondary School is now on break until September 13th. This is the result of some atypical events, which, unfortunately, is only going to make things more difficult for our students, particularly the Form 2’s and Form 4’s, who are scheduled to begin their testing on September 15th.

The Form 2’s (the equivalent of H.S. Sophomores) will be taking their Junior Certificate Examinations (the JCE’s), which they must pass in order to continue their secondary education. The Form 4’s (the equivalent of H.S. Seniors) will be taking their Malawi Secondary Certificate Examinations (the MSCE’s), which they must pass in order to officially graduate from Secondary school. Furthermore, their score on the MSCE determines whether or not they will get into University and whether or not the government will pay for their University, which, for many, will decide whether or not they are able to go. Essentially, these tests determine whether the students are able to pursue further education or whether they must return to their villages and resume whatever work they can find there, which, for many of them, will be a life of subsistent farming.

So why is Chaminade on break during the two weeks leading up to the tests upon which the entire Malawian secondary school curriculum is focused? Well, to begin, let me just say this past week has been a very interesting week.

Monday morning, I was awoken by the sounds of periodic clapping and cheering. It was around 7:15AM. Classes begin at 7AM for the students, and while I was not aware of any type of scheduled assembly, I had only been in Africa for two weeks, so I didn’t know what was going on. No one came to get me, so I wasn’t too alarmed. I could see out my bedroom window that some students were gathered near the administration wing of the school, so I casually put on some teacher clothes, and made my way over to see what was going on. When I arrived, I found nearly all 350 boys in their full uniform standing in a crowd facing the faculty and staff who had gathered outside the staff room. The Headboy (somewhat like a Student Government President, only with many more responsibilities here) was standing out in front of the crowd, reading from a list to our Headmaster, who was standing taking notes. The list was a list of grievances the students had for the administration. The students had organized a strike in order to bring their issues to the administration.

The night before, Molly, Emily, and I had gone out into the “bush” behind our house to look at the stars. While we were standing there gazing up at the sky, we heard the Malawian national anthem being sung from the direction of the hostiles, the dormitory type building where the boys live. After their singing, we heard cheers, clapping, and whistling. As Molly said, it sounded like the start of a sporting event. The power had gone out earlier that evening, which always riles up the boys because they don’t have to study since there is no light, so we figured their singing was a spontaneous overflow of their blackout energy. Apparently, they had organized an assembly amongst themselves, which, without administrative approval, is actually against regulations of the Malawian Ministry of Education, a serious violation. Every school sings the Malawian national anthem after general assemblies, and so the singing actually commenced upon the conclusion of their assembly. It was during that assembly that they addressed their issues with the administration, organized them, and decided how they wanted to present their issues.

The presentation of grievances lasted around two hours. The students were serious, and they had prepared a well written list of complaints with sufficient reason and argument for their issues. Many of the issues revolved around changes that had occurred in the past year as a result of budget cuts. One of the main issues was the removal of outings. The students had previously been allowed two outings per month. Since this is a boarding school, the students are actually restricted to remain on campus at all times except during scheduled outings. I believe when the current Form 4’s first arrived at Chaminade, the students were allowed outings every Saturday. Because of various abuses of the outings, including students going to town and getting drunk, the number of outings was reduced to two a month. Last term, eight students were found drunk after one of their outings, and as a result, the students were expelled, and the staff and administration made the decision to reduce the students’ outings even further, allowing only one per month. This may seem a bit extreme, but there are two important things to consider.

First of all, drinking is seen as a much more serious offense here in Malawi than it is in the US. The legal drinking age is 18. However, even for those who are of legal drinking age, drinking to excess is viewed as an extremely serious social offense. Drunkenness is viewed as a serious issue, and for boys, who are under the legal drinking age, it is quite unacceptable, especially for a private boarding school which claims to be one of the best schools in the country. The second important thing to consider is the fact that one outing per month is the national norm for Malawi. The students at Chaminade were actually granted special privileges in having more than one outing per month. So in reality, the staff was merely making the decision to reduce the number of outings to what all of Chaminade’s peer schools allowed.

Nonetheless, the Chaminade students were extremely discontent with this change. Now, I could begin to describe some of the issues of entitlement of the Chaminade students that have been discussed this week, but I’m going to try to finish explaining the events that led to our two week break.

After the students finished presenting their grievances, Mr. Nthala, our headmaster, suggested that all of the staff meet and work on coming up with some solutions for their grievances. At this point, I was somewhat impressed with the students. Granted, it would have been much better for them to have brought up these issues at a time when they weren’t supposed to be in class, but the manner in which they presented their issues, the language they used, the respect they showed, and their degree of organization.

The staff met for almost three full hours, examining and discussing each of the twenty one issues the students presented. Some of the issues were quite trivial or all together made-up, such as the complaint that teachers sit in the Headmaster’s office and watch television when the students aren’t allowed to. (In actuality, the television in the Headmaster’s office hasn’t had a connection for five months.) However, some of their concerns were definitely legitimate. For example, one of their major complaints was about their diet. Right now, their diet consists mainly of nsima (maize flour and water) and some beans with a bit of lettuce. Nsima is the staple food of Malawi and many other parts of Africa. It has practically no flavor, the consistency of dry, chewy mashed potatoes, and as far as I know, little to no nutritional value. The boys get a small serving of meat once per week, and rice once every two weeks. I’ve always thought of rice as a primary food for those who cannot afford otherwise, but here, because of recent price increases, rice is actually a luxury. With this issue, I am in strong support of the students complaints. I would be extremely interested in examining the nutritional content of their diet; however, I am also scared to see the results. It is very likely that most, if not all, of their nutritional needs go unmet. This is particularly challenging for us as volunteers, who, because of our fundraising and support from our volunteer program, are able to eat a rather luxurious diet. Several of us are already experiencing a great deal of conflict regarding our resource consumption. While I desire a flavorful diet, and while I believe in the need to have a strong nutritional foundation to that diet, it is very difficult to sit at our dining room table with a relative feast before us as we watch the students walk to their dining hall where we know they are probably being served a meager meal of nsima and beans. With all this being said, the students did have some serious issues.

The staff worked out some solutions for the students’ concerns. However, with an extremely limited budget, and costs constantly rising, the solutions the staff developed were meager and temporary at best. It was clear to all of us that more work needed to be done to meet some of the students’ legitimate needs. For the time being, though, we wanted to offer the students some responses, which would hopefully enable them to resume their normal class schedule; this is where problems really began.

During the staff meeting, one of the teachers had passed a few students and overheard one of them say, “night is coming.” There was some debate amongst the teachers as what that could mean, but it definitely raised some concerns. After the staff meeting, the Headmaster sent out the message to gather all of the students in the assembly hall. A few minutes later, the staff made our way to meet the students there. However, they were not there. We could see the whole crowd of students standing outside of the hostiles. They had long since changed out of their uniforms, and had used the past three hours as free time. We received the message that they wanted us to come to them. This, for several reasons, was a big issue. The staff made it clear that the students had to come to them, while several members began getting worried about the students’ noncompliance. The students then marched around to the administration offices, sending a message to the staff that they would be willing to hear the staff’s response there. By this point, things seemed very strange. The other volunteers and teachers informed us new volunteers that this type of behavior was extremely unusual. Murmurings of police assistance began among the staff, and Sarah Wdowiak informed me that that would probably be the next step.

One of the student representatives informed the Headmaster that the students did not want to meet inside the assembly hall, so the Headmaster told them that he would be willing to meet them out in the open air, outside the assembly hall, but that they had to come to him. It was clear to me that there was a battle for authority and power going on. The students finally came around, and met us outside the assembly hall. All of this was extremely strange considering the fact that it was the students who put out the request for solutions to the issues, and the staff had so far shown a willingness to work with the students. This meeting, after all, was for the students to hear the staff’s suggested solutions. I found it strange that they were showing such reluctance to come hear those solutions.

What happened next brought this issue to a whole different level. When the students came to meet the staff, the Headmaster asked all of the students to sit down before he began sharing the solutions the staff had developed. The students were working as a mob by this point, and I could see them looking to one another, to a few “ring leaders” here and there to see how they should act. A few students refused and began to walk away. This sent a ripple effect, and the mob of students started yelling and marching away. At this point, the staff made the decision to call in for police. We didn’t know where things were going to go, but with these blatant acts of defiance and the mob mentality that was setting in, we wanted the police to get there before anything happened.

As the mob began walking back to the hostile, we could see the Headboy and his council were genuinely concerned. The Headboy and the council of Prefects were the top students in their classes. They are extremely intelligent and respectable young men. The tone of things had definitely changed from that morning, when the Headboy and the Prefects presented their concerns in a very formal and official manner. Now, there seemed to be an under current of defiant students who were working to rile things up. After some discussion, the Headboy rang the assembly bell, and called the students back. Slowly but surely, they all came back. The student leaders informed the students to sit down and hear the staff’s suggestions. It comforted me to see that the Headboy and Prefects were not satisfied with the behavior of the student body, but it concerned me that there was a clear mob mentality developing.

Finally, the students settled down, and they began listening to the Headmaster as he described the solutions, though temporary, that the staff had created. Things began to look like they were going well. However, the police who had been called when things weren’t looking so good finally arrived. This got the students riled up again, and I could tell that many of them became frightened by the police presence. I could also see in some of their faces looks of resentment that the police had been called. In some ways, I feel that the police presence took away the voice of the students. They no longer could feel free to speak their mind. Nonetheless, there was some comfort in the fact that the police were there.

The Headmaster finished sharing the solutions, while making it clear that some of the students’ issues were unable to be resolved that day. He articulated that, for those issues, the staff would continue to work on finding solutions with the students. He even announced that he would be meeting with the student representatives again that day for further clarification and discussion of some of the more pertinent issues. Things seemed to finish well. It was a bit past 1PM, and the boys hadn’t had lunch, so the Headmaster encouraged them to go eat. He and the student representatives continued to meet throughout the afternoon. As a safety precaution, several police remained on campus that evening.

The next day, Tuesday, classes resumed as normal. However, when Emily, one of the volunteers, said to one of her Form 1 classes, “It is good to see every thing back to normal,” one of her students replied, “No, Madame Richardson. Things are not normal. They appear normal, but they are not normal.” Some of the other volunteers had heard that some of the students were going to vandalize parts of the school and the Headmaster’s house the night before. Apparently, the police had arrived moments prior to the planned attack. As we, as a volunteer house, discussed this, we reflected on our own concerns. The volunteers who have been here for a year felt confident that the students had no desire to harm any of us or our house. And in the three weeks I have been here, I can see that the students genuinely appreciate and enjoy the presence of the volunteers. I too felt very safe here. Also, all of the negative thoughts had been directed primarily at the administration and the Headmaster.

That evening, we had invited Madame Malwanda, the Chairperson of the Board of Directors of Chaminade over for dinner. She had heard about the issues of the students, and was concerned about some of the threats that had been made on the school and on the Headmaster. While we were eating supper, we began to hear a roar of shouting erupt. We were all disappointed because we knew that some of the students were probably up to something that wasn’t going to be good for them or for the school. We weren’t too concerned, though, since many of the students have very good relationships with the volunteers. We had also heard that the police were on their way. The shouting subsided, and we resumed our meal. Perhaps ten minutes later, the shouting began again, this time louder and more intense. We couldn’t ignore this anymore, and Madame Malwanda was the first to rise from her seat. We went out to the porch to look out to campus. We could see a crowd of students rushing about the center of campus, which is probably two or three hundred meters from our house. Again, we had no doubt that the students would leave us alone, but we were concerned for the school, the Headmaster’s home, and the students themselves. We could hear some rocks being thrown at buildings, but nothing seemed too out of control. We could tell that it was not all the students who were yelling and running about. Then, we could see a small fire spark. We had heard that the police had arrived to campus, but the sight of a fire was definitely concerning. The fire began to grow, and we became concerned that it would spread. We soon saw a number of police officers run up and quickly suffocate the fire. Things calmed down, and we could tell the police had corralled all of the students back into the hostile. Sarah then drove Madame Malwanda home, who was actually grateful that we happened to invite her over that night. She was able to be present for this event, and so she had a first hand understanding of what transpired.

The next morning, we found that some of the teachers were scared to teach. After all, it would be one teacher in a room with up to 50 students. The Headmaster made the decision to postpone classes while they worked on gathering names of who was involved with the vandalism and fires of the night before. The police were once again brought it, and an action plan was developed to gather the students for an assembly, send them to their classrooms, and then arrest the students who were suspected of being involved. All of this took several hours. It was just before noon when the thirteen students who were named were gathered and taken in. The Secretary and Counselor of the Ministry of Education were already on their way to decide what else should be done. After several meetings with the administration, staff, and students, the decision was made on Thursday to give the school a two week break. This two week break would give the students some time to calm down, while also allowing the administration some time to come up with some lasting and effective solutions to some of the issues that sparked these events.

The students who were arrested were released on bail yesterday and are to report for their court case on September 10th. There are also fifteen other students whose names were identified on Thursday as additional suspects for the riotous behavior that happened on Tuesday night. As of right now, I am unsure how those students will be dealt with.

So, as you can see, this was an extremely interesting week. All of the students have left campus and have returned to their homes. The students come from all parts of Malawi, especially the northern region. In order for them to return to Chaminade in two weeks, the administration has implemented a requirement for one of the parents to accompany the students upon their return. Before they are allowed to re-enter the school, the student and parent must read and sign a contract to abide by the rules and regulations of the school. If they refuse to sign the contract, they will not be allowed to return to school.

What does all this mean for the volunteers? Well, we have a two week break. There is plenty for us to do around the house, but there have been a few ideas floating around of going down to Mzuzu or visiting some other place. We also know a number of other volunteer workers in the area, including the Australian family at Losobila Orphan Center and numerous Peace Corps Volunteers throughout the northern region; all of them are potential opportunities for us to assist in some of the other work that is being done in our area. Most likely, we will probably take this time to relax a little bit, work on a few things around the house, and try to get a little more settled in this place. I wouldn’t say it is exactly an ideal situation, but we will definitely be able to make use of this time. We will also probably have at least a few meeting at school this week to discuss what has happened, and how we are going to go on from here.

Many of the teachers have shown great care, concern, and compassion towards us, especially those of us who have just recently arrived. All week, I was asked by almost every staff member, “Taube, how are you doing?” “Are you dealing okay?” “Is everything alright?” The Headmaster has specifically made a point to check up on us. And just the other night, Chris and Anne, the couple that works for Paladin, the Uranium Mining Company, came over to our house to check in on us. The Marianist Brothers have also been supportive of us. We’ve received a great deal of support even though all of us felt very much that the students’ issues were not with us. Nonetheless, this has been a somewhat stressful and confusing situation. For us new volunteers, we’ve been quite clueless with everything. We hardly know any students, we don’t know what life is typically like for the students here, and we aren’t familiar with the way the school normally deals with issues. But for the volunteers who have been here for a year, I think it has been even more difficult. It has been upsetting for them to see the school as they have come to know it almost flip itself over. Some of the students who were involved, even some of the ones who were arrested, had close relationships with them. And perhaps most troubling of all, Emily and Ryan both teach classes for students preparing to take the JCE’s or MSCE’s, and now, those classes will not meet for the two weeks prior to the tests. This has been particularly difficult for Emily, who was planning on using these next two weeks to work intensively with the students who needed the most help.

This is, by far, the longest post I have written, and hopefully, it will be the longest post I write during my time here. For those of you who made it through the entire thing, thanks for reading and showing your concern and interest. I want to ensure to you that I am, and the other volunteers are, doing okay. Though we were prepared to leave campus and find a calmer place to stay when things got tense, at no time did we feel threatened or in danger. And though this issue wasn’t directed at us, I do ask for your prayers for the school and the students. We are all quite confident that it was only a minority of students who took things too far, but this has definitely affected all of the students and all of the staff. I ask that you pray for the administration as they work out ways to handle the situation, and I ask that you pray for the students as they prepare to return to campus, especially those who are left to prepare for their tests on their own.

While this whole situation was quite unexpected and quite unfortunate, it’s where we are at, and all we can do is go from here. I am still hopeful and optimistic about this volunteer experience. And in some ways, this situation shows some of the ways that we volunteers are needed here. There are definitely ways this situation could have been avoided, and I think the positive relationships the volunteers have with the students shows some of the insight we can share.

If you have any thoughts, concerns, or questions, please feel free to shoot them my way.

Thanks again for reading, and hopefully, the next post will be a bit lighter for you.

Peace and Love.

Team Volunteer...aka..."Team Easy"

2008-08-24T16:57:00.000-05:00

Emily has been playing volleyball with the students for the past year, and with all of us new volunteers showing up, some of the students were interested in challenging us to a volleyball match. Emily set up the game for today at 2PM, and throughout this past week, there was a good bit of trash talk floating around.

We decided to get decked-out in Red and Blue (partly inspired by the US and partly inspired by UD), and Sarah made signs that said “Team Volunteers” and then had each of our names in bold. We pinned the signs to our backs, and with our coordinating colors, we looked pretty professional. As we approached, various forms of “ooos,” “ahhs,” laughter, and chatter rose from the crowd of 60 or so students gathered around the volleyball pitch.

Though we started the first game by giving them 8 points before we gained one and quickly earned the name “Team Easy,” we were able to pull it together and gave them a run for their money during the second and most of the third game. (We even gave a few "Team Easy" chants directed at them!) By the end of the third game, they had pretty much defeated us, and we were essentially out of energy. The students seemed to enjoy playing us, making fun of us when we messed up, and watching us as we brought some new techniques and skills. Both the Headmaster and the Deputy Headmaster came by to watch for one or two of the four games we played. (We were playing best of five, and they beat us in the first three, but we played a fourth for fun.) They’re really good, and I wasn’t expecting to find this kind of volleyball here. It’s wonderful!

It was a great community activity for us as well, and I’m looking forward to future matches.

Bedazzled

2008-08-23T23:23:00.000-05:00

Tonight we watched the first Lord of the Rings at the Brothers’ house with Br. Bill and Fr. Richard, the two American Marianists here at Chaminade. Fr. Richard even made buttered popcorn, and Dugan shared some of his delicious chocolates that came in his package the other day. It was wonderful.

But even more wonderful was stepping outside after the movie finished and looking up at the sky. Thus far, the moon has been quite full, so it has been hard to see the sky clearly, especially since much of the country has been filled with haze from the farmers burning their fields for the planting in the rainy season. However, tonight, as we walked back the 25 meters to our house, the moon was not out, and the sky was filled with the brilliant dazzling sparkle of thousands of stars, contrasting the deep, dark black of a night absent of light pollution.

Another fascinating aspect of the sky here is that the stars are different than the stars I’ve been looking at for my whole life in the northern hemisphere. For example, there are some stars here that simply can’t be seen in the northern hemisphere. And even cooler, the stars that I have seen before, are flipped from how I’m used to. The Big Dipper for example, is inverted. So every time I’ve looked up at the night sky, it has been as if I’m looking at a sky I’ve never seen before.

And I know I’ve never seen the stars dazzle the way they dazzled tonight. There was so much sparkling that they seemed to be moving. There was so much activity up there that the sky seemed alive; it was awe-inspiring.

Dream!

2008-08-23T11:45:00.000-05:00

Since I finished the Alchemist, I’ve moved onto a new book. The book I’ve started is called The End of Poverty by Jeffrey Sachs. After reading the foreward (by Bono!) the intro, and the first chapter, I’m exceeding excited about this book. The back cover claims that in the book, “Sachs lays out a clear conceptual map of the world economy. Explaining his own work in Bolivia, Russia, India, China, and Africa, he offers an integrated set of solutions to the interwoven economic, political, environmental, and social problems that challenge the world’s poorest countries.”

In essence, Sachs claims our world could end extreme poverty. He even says we could do it by 2025.

After reading the first chapter, I’m seeing two key elements to end poverty: better education and small economic development. My situation here in Malawi is the perfect position to be a part of that work. Here I am, working at a school with the opportunity to challenge my students to strive for excellence. Already, I have claimed that as one of my primary goals. I also have an awesome opportunity to contribute to small economic development by bringing together my connections from home with the Women’s Empowerment Program at MIRACLE, which gives out small loans to the women in the villages surrounding Chaminade. So right here, I have before me two clear ways to contribute to the end of poverty. It’s a dream, but that’s where these things start. And after reading the Alchemist, I have no reason not to pursue this “Personal Legend.”

What are your dreams? What will your personal legend be?

Normally, I would hold back from being this idealistic. Though idealism is my natural state, I know that the realists out there find bold idealism like this an easy target for criticism. That’s okay. Actually, it’s welcomed. I’ll need those criticisms in order to make this idea a reality. However, even if this idea is a bit too unrealistic, it’s worth diving into. Because, even if the incredible goal of ending poverty weren’t my aim, wouldn’t this dream of mine be worth pursuing simply because it is a dream? I think so.

I recently spent some time on the website of a business working in Nicaragua called Salud del Sol. Salud del Sol literally translates to Health from the Sun. This business is currently developing plans to create solar autoclaves which could be used in the hundreds of rural clinics and hospitals throughout Nicaragua to sterilize the medical equipment used on thousands of patients, potentially saving their lives in a number of ways. A few months ago, such an idea was just a dream, but there they are, making progress and getting closer to their goal. And would you believe me if I told you this business was founded by a group of college students? In fact, they’re from my school…my class…and a few of them are my friends.

So I ask, why not dream? Why not work for those dreams? Maybe you won’t get where you originally set out to go, but you’ll go somewhere. And in reality, that’s a whole lot better than going nowhere.

Amidst the blogs that my friends from Salud del Sol have been keeping, I found an incredibly appropriate story. This summer, the group spent their time in the middle of rural Nicaragua developing their solar autoclaves and beginning their testing on them. One day, during their testing, they noticed a young man walking up the road with his bike. He was decked out in biking gear, and his bike was strapped with various bags and equipment. This was far from a common site, so my friends waited for him to get closer and asked him where he was coming from. Apparently, he had been traveling between 70 and 100km each day for the past 13 months. He was traveling from Alaska to Columbia, where he was originally from, and he had already travelled over 24,000km. His name was Oscar Canon, and when the group asked him why he was doing it, he responded: “Some people have dreams…but they remain dreams.”

So…

…what are your dreams?

Don’t you think it’s time to make them a reality?

Nourishment

2008-08-22T21:37:00.000-05:00

This afternoon, I took the Alchemist out to our little summer hut behind our house. A summer hut here is a little straw roofed, gazebo type structure. There is a large one just outside the staff room for Chaminade, and it is where all the teachers sit in between their classes. Our house has a little summer hut in our backyard, behind our chicken house, a good 25 meters from the house. It is nicely secluded and looks out to the bush and some rolling hills that I would call mountains. It’s a beautiful spot. There was a bee flying about the summer hut, so I decided to sit on a stone bench just outside the summer hut. I soon laid down on the bench as I read. I had begun the book three days ago and had been enjoying it thoroughly. I was down to my last thirty pages and resolved to finish the book before dinner.

As I laid there reading, I could see the sun setting just beyond me. The colors of fallen leaves and their crunch under the feet of chickens surrounded me. The wind gently caressed me through the trees, and I soaked in the coolness of this day’s fading afternoon. As I read about Santiago’s conversation with the desert, and then the wind, and then the sun, and then the Creator, the sky around me played a harmonious melody of colors. The sky danced into dusk as my spirit danced to the story of the Alchemist.

It had been a long day. I had accomplished some work in the morning, shadowed a couple of classes in the afternoon, and spent some time socializing with the staff in the summer hut before going back home and eventually deciding to read. This sunset reading was perhaps the most nourishing thing I could have experienced, and I pray that every person has something like this experience that can fill their soul.

If you don’t have something like it, find it! Feed your spirit; if it starves, what else matters?

Mwatandala Uli!

2008-08-22T09:15:00.000-05:00

Good afternoon!
Tatandala makola, Kwalimwe!
My afternoon is fine, how is yours!
Tatandala!
My afternoon is fine too!
Yewo!
Thank you!
Yewo!
Thank you!

That is the afternoon greeting in Chitumbuka, the regional language of central and northern Malawi. We’ve been taking language classes here this past week, and it has been a lot of fun greeting some of the local villagers who walk through campus!

I never thought I’d be learning three languages at once, but we’re also learning Chichewa and Ngonde. Chichewa is the national language of Malawi (English is it’s “Official” language which, from what I understand, means that is the language in which official business is conducted.), and Ngonde is another regional language of northern Malawi. Apparently Ngonde is more commonly spoken in and around Karonga, up to the Malawi-Tanzania border. However, Chitumbuka is easier to learn, so I think that is why we’ve been placing a focus on it.

I don’t expect to become proficient in any of these languages, particularly because most everyone on this campus speaks English, I will be conducting my work in English, and I will be living with five native English speakers. However, I do hope to be able to achieve some functionality in them. My community job is as assistant shopper, so I will be going into the market each week where few of the merchants have a strong demand of English, so there, I will get to use some of these languages. Hopefully, in the next two years, I can at least make it seem like I somewhat know the language of the people.

Classes, music, the market, and new friends

2008-08-18T12:13:00.001-05:00

It’s been wonderful to feel better! I’m actually starting to feel like myself, which hasn’t been the case since before Orientation in St. Louis. Everything was just so exhausting that I didn’t have the energy and zest for life that I normally have. I’m finally getting that back, and it has been WONDERFUL!

Friday, I observed two of Sarah’s classes. It is clear to me that the education system here is a good bit different than in the US. I’m sure I will have many observations of this as these next two years progress, but for starters, many, if not most, of the students do not have the various textbooks for their classes, so their primary source of information is from class. From what I have observed, the instructors post notes on the chalk board, the students write down the notes, and then that is what they study. What this means for how I teach, I do not know yet.

There was also a prayer service for the boys on Friday. It was quite simple with opening songs, a reading or two, and then a commentary by one of the teachers, then a closing song. I enjoyed it. The music and singing is beautiful—at least for now. I anticipate that once the newness wears away, I will crave good ol’ fashioned American church songs. But I hope, that I will continue to find beauty in the simple accompaniment of a poly-rhythmic (is that a word) beats of a drum, and the harmonious symphony of voices in parts. It is a definite source of energy for me now, and I hope that continues. I’m also hoping to identify a student who has a family member or a friend who can make drums. I’d love to commission a student to carve a drum for me. From what I understand, that would be the way to do it. They don’t exactly have music instrument stores here. Then, once I get a drum, I’d love to have one of the boys give me lessons. It’s be a lot of fun to have a student be my teacher, especially since there is such division and hierarchy between teacher and students here.

Saturday, we went into town, the center of Karonga. We visited a few shops for groceries, and stopped in the market. Matt and I are going to take on the community job of shopping. I’m looking forward to visiting the market on a regular basis. From what I could tell, not many of the merchants know excellent English, and the market is much like what you would imagine a market in a small African town would look like. I think this will be an excellent source of cultural immersion for me.

Also on Saturday, we visited the home of a middle-aged couple from Australia named Chris and Anne. They have a very nice house right on the other side of the airfield, which is about an eight minute drive from our house. The two of them work for Paladine, a foreign mining company who is constructing a Uranium mine not too far from Karonga. Their job has to do with community relations. I’m not sure yet exactly what that means, but it sounds pretty cool, and they make a Western income, so in Karonga, they are very well-off. Somehow they became friends with the former volunteers, and they host us for dinner on occasion. We also met another muzungu (white-people) family at Chris and Anne’s. The Feldmeier family is a family from another part of Australia who had no connection to Chris and Anne. The Feldmeier's actually have come to Karonga for a full year to volunteer together at the orphan care center in town. The family did this in response to an impressive call the father had to come to Northern Malawi. In Australia, the family also did work in an aboriginal community, so they are no strangers to working with the struggling members of society. There are four children in the family, Daniel, Jessica, Diner, and Emily who range from the ages of 17-12. They are all extremely mature, though, and us volunteers quickly found friends in them. On Sunday, they came over to our house for a visit, and ended up playing ultimate Frisbee with us for two hours. It was great! And they seem like they are really extraordinary people! They will be here until at least December when they will evaluate whether they feel called to stay in Karonga for more time. I’d love for them to stick around and get to know them a bit more.

Also on Sunday, I went to my first Mass here. The community chapel is about 25 meters from my bedroom, which is very nice since I can hear the drumming and singing before Mass from my bed. The whole Mass was in Chitumbuka, the vernacular of the people, which was very interesting. They had about 20 young boys and girls who were liturgical dancers—very cute! And the music, once again, was beautiful. I hope to learn some of the songs so I can sing along with the congregation. Tonight, we start our Chitumbuka lessons, so I’m hoping to learn the various Mass parts so I can respond and become more a part of the celebration. One thing I did notice, however, is that even though the music and dancing were much more lively than in the US, still very similar to the US was the way many of the congregation did not seem too interested or involved in the celebration. I’m interested in learning more about their views of Catholicism. So much to learn!

Thanks for reading! I know it's a lot, but there's just so much to record!

My First Class Observation: The First Meeting

2008-08-15T13:36:00.000-05:00

It seems normal for the students to emphatically respond with “OKAY,” to comments and statements as a sign that they understand—however, some seem like they are doing it just for fun.

They all stand when they answer.

Sarah uses examples the boys can understand. She’s not afraid to use examples of the culture. When teaching them about tolerance, she addressed a major cultural issue using the example that they may not like the fact that they have a woman teacher, they may disagree with the idea of having a woman teacher, but they at least tolerate it.

Before the class started, Sarah stood outside the door, trying to gather the students who hadn’t come in the classroom yet. While she called them in, I stood at the front of the class, unsure where I should go. The students who were already in their seats looked up at me with their eyes wide open. Perhaps their eyes stood out to me because of the stark contrast between the white of their eyes and the black of their faces. Nonetheless, I sensed they were inspecting me with everything their minds could muster.

As one late student came in, strolling at a cruise as if he had a stereo blaring inside his head, he looked up at me as he entered the doorway. The moment he saw me, his feet froze in their spot and his body stood still as a statue. I don’t know if he was just shocked by the stranger standing before him or if it was my whiteness and maleness that spooked him. I gently smiled and motioned him to come in the room.

Sarah is giving them notes now, and they will then have an opportunity to ask me questions; I’m excited to see what they ask about me. But, even as confident of a person as I am, I’m also nervous to see how they respond.

1st Week! Get comfy; it's a long one!

2008-08-14T11:34:00.000-05:00

So here I am. Karonga, Malawi. Can you believe it? I’ve been here for almost a week, and I’m only now just starting to really realize that I’m here.

We arrived here late Friday evening. Sarah Wdowiak, one of the volunteers who will be staying with us for another year, and Br. Bill, an American Marianist who is the Director of MIRACLE, picked us up from the airport in Lilongwe, the capital of Malawi. We then rode in Br. Bill’s pickup truck all the way up to Karonga, stopping a few times along the way for lunch, dinner, and a few rests. The entire ride was through the countryside and was extremely beautiful. However, Sarah informed us that it is the burning season now, which is when all the farmers burn their fields in preparation for the next planting Additionally, everything is dying since it has been a while since the rains, and it is beginning to get warmer again. So, long story short, according to Sarah and the other volunteers, Malawi isn’t as beautiful right now as it will be after the rains come. Apparently, though, the ‘good sunset season’ just started and will continue into, through, and beyond the rainy season, all the way to January or February. HOW COOL IS IT THAT THERE IS A WHOLE SEASON OF GOOD SUNSETS!?!?! (Anne and Helen, I’ll make sure to take lots of pictures.)

The ride was long, but all of us were excited to finally make it here. We arrived at our house around 9:30PM, where Ryan Dugan and Emily Richardson were awaiting us with a delicious dinner, including cake made from scratch, all prepared by one of our cooks (I’ll write about our cooks later). Saturday we were allowed to sleep in, which we all very much needed, and then we unpacked, and began to get settled. Since then, we’ve had a few house meetings, discussing various things from expectations, hopes, strengths, weaknesses, goals, budget, and other community building issues. I think we are off to a good start, but I know it will take some time for us all to get settled in, including Sarah and Emily, who have to now get re-settled in with the four of us.

The third term of school just started this week. We had our first staff meeting on Monday morning, which was really interesting. It’s very intriguing to be entering into this position. Not only am I learning all about a new culture, but I’m learning about what it is like to simply be an employee—to be a member of a staff—to be a teacher as opposed to a student, which may be a tricky thing for me. The headmaster Mr. Ntala led the staff meeting, and the other teachers shared their views and ideas. I’m finding that everything is very formal here, and hopefully I can describe more the formality of everything later with various stories.
Since we are here, we have officially been welcomed onto the staff, and are expected to start teaching as soon as we can. Luckily, Matt, Kat, and I, the three teaching at Chaminade, have all been given only one subject to teach for this term, and we have mentor teachers with whom we will be observing and then team teaching. Classes started Tuesday, and I think I was a bit overwhelmed by the suddenness of it all. I ended up coming down with a bit of a headache on Monday afternoon, soon a mild fever, and then Monday night I got sick shortly after I went to bed. Luckily I had felt it coming on a little earlier in the night, so I had a bucket next to my bed. Had it not been there, Dugan and Matt, my two roommates probably would have had quite a mess to clean up. I ended up spending the ENTIRE day on Tuesday in bed, which was actually really nice. I think the whole sickness was my body’s way of telling me I needed more rest before jumping into everything. My stomach was pretty upset, and my temperature stayed pretty constant at 1.5 degrees too high. Luckily, my mom bought me a whole bottle of Excedrin so I was able to combat the migraine pretty effectively. I didn’t have any appetite until Tuesday evening when I had some applesauce and pineapple. The acidity of the pineapple probably wasn’t the best thing for my stomach, but the taste was so delicious that it made me feel much better…at least mentally. I slept in pretty late on Wednesday, and then lounged around most of the day watching a movie or two, taking naps, and snacking on the small reserve of American food I have.

During the time my stomach was upset, the smell and even the mere thought of eating rice, nsima (corn mash), or chipati (equivalent of a tortilla)—the three main staple foods here, mind you—all made me even more nauseous. So if you are considering sending a care package, basically ANY American food would be received with jubilation on my part! I already miss fruit snacks, cereals, pasta, pasta sauce, cheese, pizza, yogurt, milk, and ice cream more than I ever imagined I could miss them, and it’s only been a week and a half since I left the US! The volunteers have informed us that Velveeta is a godsend, and I’m already seeing why. It doesn’t have to be refrigerated, so it can be easily shipped, and it brings to us the taste and enjoyment of cheese. I guess even pizza with Velveeta taste good here. In the States I never would have gone for it, but already here, my mouth is watering at the thought of it.

I don’t think I would have begun craving these foods so soon had I not gotten sick, but I found myself very much desiring those things that bring me comfort. It was pretty hard being sick in a place so far from home. Thankfully, Ryan and Matt have been phenomenal roommates, and the girls have been absolutely wonderful in accommodating me and helping to comfort me. Also, the couple of messages I was able to download from my email yesterday were extremely encouraging. It’s amazing how much a message from a friend at home can bring an extra bit of energy; thank you! (And, please, I welcome many new ones! )

It’s now Thursday afternoon. I slept in again today, even though the others have been going to classes, teaching or observing them. They are all supportive of me, though, and are definitely encouraging me to take my time getting better. I don’t want to and they don’t want me to fall back into sickness before I’m all the way well again. Alick and Vicki both have been supportive of me too, which has been very sweet; I can tell they are somewhat like house parents for us. And Frank and Ricky, the two boys who do work around our house for us, have also wished me a speedy recovery every time they’ve seen me. (I’ll tell you more about Frank and Ricky later; much like having cooks, it’s weird to have house boys, but I can already tell that both of them are wonderful young men. Apparently, there is a third one whose name I’m not even going to attempt to spell right now. We’ve heard rumor that he is in jail right now; no one seems to know what that is about. I’ll fill you in when I figure out what is going on there.)

This is getting long, so I should get to closing this. I think I will go observe Sarah’s class tomorrow. She is my mentor teacher, which is really nice. I will only be teaching Social Studies this semester, which is also nice since it shouldn’t be as complicated as Biology. But I do hope to teach Biology in future terms. The education/teaching/learning system seems a bit different here than it is in the States, but I will write more about that in the future, perhaps when I get a better feel for it.

Really, there is a lot I can get a better feel for. I haven’t left the house too much because I’ve been sick. Also because of the sickness, I haven’t had much energy to observe, absorb, or appreciate anything, so I will really only just now be getting into it all.

Rest assured, I am feeling much better now. It’s perhaps the first time in a month or so that I’m feeling close to full energy. July was a whirlwind with the GRE, graduation party, fundraiser, preparations, and goodbyes. Then the week in St. Louis was mentally, emotionally, and physically draining. From there I went straight into a two day string of sleepless flights, stopped in Nairobi, Kenya for a major does of culture shock, hoped on another plane, only to jump in the back of a pickup truck for an 11 hour car ride. (The ride was FREEZING by the way!!! Much of the journey is up into the mountains where it got very cold, especially in the back of a pickup truck. I never would have expected to be shivering on my first day in Africa, but I suppose those surprises make up a part of the beauty of life.) Then once I got here, it felt like we were just being thrown into the ring with no time to get adjusted, so I’m actually quite grateful for these past three days during which I’ve had much time to simply let my body, mind, and spirit rest.

I’ll have unlimited access to the internet here, as long as the electricity and internet are running, which isn’t always the case. (It’s quite typical for the power to go out. Last night it was out for about two hours, so we decided to make a “Blackout Box” in which we put all kinds of suggestions for things for us to do whenever we have a Blackout. None of us shared what we were writing, so all the suggestions will be a surprise to the group. We get to pull two different ones out, and we have to do one of those two. We are all pretty excited for the next Blackout so we can pull out the Blackout Box and see what kind of fun we will have.) However, the internet access is at MIRACLE, which is on the other side of campus and is about a 10 minute walk from our house, so I probably won’t make it over there everyday—actually, you can count on me not making it there everyday. I do have a cell phone, WHICH YOU ARE EXTREMELY ENCOURAGED TO CALL. From what I understand, the best way to do it is to buy an international phone card. Or, if you have skype, you can also call from skype, which is much cheaper than a phone card. Or, if you are interested in talking to me on a regular basis, we can set up a time where we can talk skype to skype, which is free! (That’s what my mom and I will be doing. ) Let me know if you want my phone number. (I can also send/receive texts to/from the US!)

This is ultra long, so I will end this here, but hopefully you all have enjoyed and will continue to enjoy reading about my experiences, challenges, reflections, and other random writings. I enjoy doing it, but let me know what you think. Post a comment, send me an email, or give me a call. What are your thoughts on what I’ve written? Is there something you’d like to know more about? What’s going on in your part of the world? I look forward to hearing from you.

I Will Make It

2008-08-13T18:28:00.000-05:00

I’m sitting at my desk now, hearing the rhythmic beats of African drums roll out of the community chapel. The chapel stands less than 50 meters from my bedroom window, just beyond the remnants of the garden left by Nichole, one of the volunteers who lived here last year. I can hear the voices of the boys singing in harmony, singing of the Kingdom of God. It’s a beautiful sound that reassures me as my stomach tugs and pulls with aches, my body is over-warm from within, and my head feels a bit sore. The drums just began again, this time with clapping. This taste of music is short, but it encourages me. I will make it here. For now, I just need to get adjusted and regain my energy.

Marianists are SWEET!

2008-08-08T12:02:00.000-05:00

I've been in Nairobi for just about two days now. Our plane landed at 6AM Nairobi time and after a quick pass through Immigration, we grabbed all our luggage---thankfully none was stolen, tampered with, or lost---and walked out to the main lobby and found a Marianist priest, Fr. Gabriel, and our friend Nichole Davis, one of the former Karonga volunteers, waiting for us. What a relief it was to see them, and a comfort to see a familiar face in Nichole!

After having some porters grab some of our luggage to carry it for us, (luckily Nichole convinced them we had no money) we rode back to the Marianist District House in Nairobi. We had some breakfast and then joined Maria and Liz on their way to one of the Marianists missions in Nairobi: Our Lady of Nazareth, a primary school for about 1700 children who live in one of the slums of Nairobi. To get there, we rode a Matatu---a big bus/van that serves as public transportation here and is very exciting/somewhat scary at first---to get to the road that leads to the school. We then had to walk about a mile or two in through the slum where the school was located. Talk about diving right in. Luckily my experiences in southern Mexico had given me a taste of third-world poverty, but it's still pretty shocking to see, especially on such a large scale. The headmaster of the school told us there are 100,000 people in the slum that the school serves alone. And from what I could gather, there are a number of these types of slums in Nairobi; crazy.

Today was a more fun/relaxed day. We again rode a Matatu, this time into the center of Nairobi, which is much more developed, but just as crowded. I can already tell that being white here is going to be an interesting experience. We had lunch, went into several shops to try to find a cell phone for Kat and a charger for Molly. (I'm buying a cell phone from Ryan Dugan, and will get that number to people whenever we trade hands. He will be here for another month, so it may not be until then.)

Nichole, Adam, Peter, and Meagan were all staying here at the brother's as well. Adam was a Karonga volunteer with Nichole, and Peter is a friend of Adam's who has been in Africa for four weeks visiting Adam. The two of them, with Nichole, all left tonight to fly home to America. Meagan is a volunteer with the Maryknoll Sisters. She is a friend of Nichole's and was here visiting her. She is also from UD, and I had met her last year at an UDSAP visitors weekend. She's pretty awesome, and it was a great pleasure spending the past two days with her---not to mention the fact that she knows Swahili, and provided tremendous help to us getting around Nairobi! I wish I could have spent more time with her and Nichole. Luckily, Meagan will be in Africa for three year, so I definitely plan on meeting up with her again.

Now, I must get to bed. Our plan leaves Nairobi at 8:15 tomorrow morning, and we much get up at 5:30AM. It's just turning midnight here, so I should get some rest before our flight and long drive to Karonga tomorrow. But I should be home by tomorrow night! We are all very much looking forward to getting settled!

I posted a lot from this past couple of days. Hopefully, it isn't over-saturating for you all. But I really wanted to share and record some of my experiences from this journey so far. I imagine things will slow down once I get into a routine. But for now, there is so much new and different to experience, that I hope to share it and record it. Karonga tomorrow! And it's 08/08/08!

Airplane food is pretty good!

2008-08-05T22:46:00.000-05:00

Though the British accents surrounding me assure me that I am in a place far from where I grew up, I know that my mind doesn’t fully grasp the fact that I’m ten thousand meters above the ground somewhere between London, England and Nairobi, Kenya.

The flights have gone well, so far. Our first, a three hour flight from St. Louis to JFK in NYC, was a breeze; each of the four of us had our own row, and I found the flight to be very re-energizing. The flight from NYC to London was a bit harder, and none of us got much sleep. We landed in London at 9:30AM local time, and had until 7:15PM before our next flight. With that much time, we decided to take the opportunity to check London out and go into the city. Thanks to the friendly and witty advice from our immigration officer, who upon our asking how much the train costs said with a smile after pointing to herself “Immigration not information.” At that point, she had already recommended we go to Hyde Park to play Frisbee, taking the Piccadilly Line. So that is exactly what we decided to do.

Little did we know, we’d spend the next two hours repacking all of our luggage because Virgin Atlantic has some pretty ridiculous restrictions. We got it all taken care of though, and all of our stuff is flying with us to Nairobi…at least it should be…

Seeing London was great. It was quite surreal. We road the underground to Hyde Park, a 45 minute ride, and walked around for a few minutes before I led us into a pretty ritzy pizza place. When I saw the name “Pizza at the Park,” I figured it’d be a cool little pizza joint. When we walked in and found white table cloths, wine glasses, and fine dining utensils, I regretted steering us in there. We stayed, though, and the pizza was delicious! (And expensive :-/, but so you could expect.)
We are scheduled to land at 6AM, Nairobi time, and I’m hoping to get some sleep before then. I probably only slept for an hour or two last night, and many of you know how much I struggle on little sleep. It sounds like we are going to have a busy time in Nairobi, so hopefully we call can make it. I took some Benadryl after our meal, hoping that it would help knock me out, and just as I wrote that, I yawned, so things are looking good. I’ve only been traveling for a day and a half, but already I’m so excited to sleep in a bed! The yawns keep coming, so I’m going to try to catch the sleep train. Next post will probably be from Malawi!

P.S.-All these travels are inspiring some cool thoughts in my head. Unfortunately, they probably aren’t as articulate as if I were well rested, and I’m definitely going to struggle to recall them, but hopefully, I can post some good reflections when I’m a little more rested. Hoping for some peacefully dreaming!

Goodbyes

2008-08-04T01:15:00.000-05:00

Last night was our commissioning ceremony. We had the opportunity to invite friends and family, which was wonderful! My mom and younger brother Dan were able to make it down to St. Louis, and it really was very meaningful to me to spend a decent amount of time with them just prior to leaving for Malawi; I am so grateful I had that time to spend with them.

I am particularly grateful for the way the goodbye went with my mom. Over the past few weeks, there had been some tension building up between her and I. I think both of us were feeling various emotions as my departure date drew near, and it was pushing us apart. I wanted more independence, and my mom wanted to offer me more. Both are good things, but when they are in conflict with each other, they can be frustrating for anyone. Luckily, my mom and I were able to share a few various conversations, notes, and times together, and we were able to get on the same page with things. I also feel like I, for the first time, came to a decent appreciation of all that my mom has given me. I was so busy being frustrated by all that she was trying to offer me, that I was failing to appreciate how lucky I have been and how lucky I am to have such a supportive person in my life. In several ways, I feel that the struggle over the past few weeks brought her and I closer together as we communicated to each other where we were comeing from. And in some ways, I can see this adventure in Africa as an opporutnity to bring my mom and I even closer; this is a great hope of mine, though, I know it will be hard to balance it with all my work and experiences in Malawi.

Molly, Matt, and I also had several wonderful friends come to our commissioning, which was absolutely encouraging and stabilizing for me! Our friends Anne Lustig, Anne Johnson, Beth Schroeder, Colin Gerker, and Gordon Schweitzer all came to our commissioning, and then again came on Sunday to hang out with us/take us around St. Louis before we leave tomorrow. Spending time with them was a great treat, and was very energizing before our trip. It was a tremendous gift for them to come and be with us; thank you.

Now I must finish up packing and get to sleep!

Transformation Unknown

2008-08-02T15:39:00.007-05:00

I'm here in St. Louis now at the Marianist Retreat Center for MVP's Orientation Retreat. We finished all our sessions today, and are just about ready to get going. Matt, Molly, Kat, and I are the four international volunteers traveling to Karonga, Malawi, where we will meet up with Sarah Wdowiak and Emily Richardson who have already been there for a year and will be volunteering with the four of us newbies for the next year. The four of us have spent the week with three girls named Heather, Nicole, and Courtney who are the three domestic MVP volunteers working here in St. Louis for this next year. They are really great, and it has been fun getting to know them.

This has been a long week full of sessions focused on preparing us for our volunteer commitments. We've looked at who we are, and where we are coming from. We've explored community, prayer, and the Marianist history and spirituality. As we discussed Marianist history and spirituality, I was once again reaffirmed in my motivation for doing this. The Marianists are all about social transformation through Christ: through Love. This is really what got me into committing these two years to service. I hope to help transform the world---even if only in tiny ways, one individual at a time---through Love.

Now, it's obviously not that easy. To begin with, the issue of culture is going to be a particularly difficult thing to manuver. It is my hope, however, that through this experience, I can better understand and work with people of various cultures and perspectives, and as a result, be more effective in transforming the world. How that is going to happen, I have no idea. But it is my hope, and that is what I'm going to follow.

Two sessions this week proved particularly challenging: the session on cultural competence and the session on conflict and communication.

I knew conflict and communication was going to be a challenging aspect of this experience. Living in an intentional community is not easy. In many ways, it's much like a marriage, and as the world's divorce rate attests, conflict and failure to communicate can shatter even the greatest of commitments.

However, I did not expect to be presented with such a challenge in terms of cultural competency. I've lived a life where I've been exposed to and immersed in many different cultures. I've read books and taken classes on cultural issues and solutions. I try very hard to be open and accepting of all people, and I truly believe that I at least recognize the value and dignity of each human person (living that out is much more difficult than recognizing it, and unfortunately, I can't honestly say I live out respect for the value and dignity of every person with whom I interact.). But one of the things Patricia Mejia, our presenter on the cultural aspect of volunteering, challenged us to explore was the idea of privilege. I thought I had privilege all figured out. I took a class called Racial and Ethnic Minorities in which I reflected on and analyzed the concept of white privilege. But all that was done very academically. Though I put a lot of effort into bringing my lessons home, I was still able to separate the injustices I read about from the injustices I lived. Patricia made these injustices even more real to me when she drew our attention to the fact that by choosing to volunteer, we are already assuming that we have something better to offer the people we are serving. By making this decision to go to Malawi, I am claiming that I have some sort of superior knowledge or understanding or gift to offer the people there. By western standards, perhaps I do. But I have a feeling that I am going to be one who is transformed and made better, not them. So does this make this whole commitment a bit selfish?

Abundance

2008-07-26T18:30:00.002-05:00

These past few weeks have flown! They have been filled with letter writing, fundraiser organizing, graduation party planning, GRE studying, visiting with friends and family, and thank you writing, not to mention actually attending my grad party, fundraiser, and taking the GRE. It has been tiring, but at the same time, it has been so filling.

I have been overwhelmed by the generosity of all the people who have sent me donation letters, notes of kind words, attended my party and fundraiser, and shared their support and encouragement with me. This outpouring of support has virtually erased any doubt I may have had about my decision to volunteer in Africa. The simple words and selfless gifts have affirmed me in my decision, and I am more motivated than ever to begin this journey and pour myself out to serve with the people in Malawi.

I leave for St. Louis tomorrow, and I think I'm ready. I have my bags packed, I've said "see you later" to most all of my friends, and I've tried my best to spend quality time with my family. I am excited to begin this adventure, and I'm ready to run. I don't know what to expect when I get there, and I'm sure I'll be shocked by all the newness. But I'm excited about all that. I think the one thing weighing on me right now is how this journey of mine is going to affect the various people in my life, particularly my family. I know it is easy for me to get so focused on my mission, on the things I'm working towards, that I forget to include the people in my life who aren't close in proximity to me. It will take a good deal of effort for me to keep in close contact with the ones I love here, but I am placing that contact as one of my top priorities. I don't want to disappear for two years and come back feeling like I don't know anyone here and feeling like no one here knows me. It will take work, but I'm willing to make it work. It is the least I can do for all that these beautiful people have given me.

The next time I write, I should be in St. Louis. I hope to give you all an idea of what our orientation is like. Stay tuned. We're just getting started. :)

Something small and simple...but with so much meaning

2008-07-09T14:23:00.004-05:00

With the weekend of my big graduation party and major fundraiser drawing near, I am so incredibly encouraged by the support I have received from friends and family for this mission I am taking on.

Though I am not yet near reaching my fundraising needs, I have received a generous amount of donations. The willingness of these friends of mine, new and old, to offer what they can is incredibly humbling; in fact, it is quite overwhelming!

It has become quite clear to me that I cannot fully express my gratitude to the individuals who have donated. Yes, money is just money; it is not important when considering the big picture. However, in this case at least, it does mean something. It takes a certain degree of intention to make the decision to give some of the earnings for which you have worked hard to someone because you believe in what they are doing. This is the overwhelming part for me. With each check I receive in the mail, and each envelope someone hands me, I am humbled by the belief people are placing in me; I am also inspired by it.

In a meager attempt to express some degree of gratitude, I am using a friend's idea as a simple way to remind myself of all those who have placed their hope and encouragement in me. I plan to write down each name of the people who have donated, and place those names on the walls and spaces around me while I am in Malawi: in my bedroom, at my desk, in my closet, in my classroom, etc. And when I see those names, I will pray a small prayer of thanksgiving and request that they may be blessed in the abundant ways that I have.

I cannot thank you enough.

A Surprise at Milano's

2008-06-25T22:54:00.001-05:00

This past weekend I stopped in Dayton on my way to visit the UDSAP house. (UDSAP [University of Dayton Summer Appalachia Program] is the service program I participated in last summer, and each summer the UDSAPers host three visitors weekends for family, friends, and former UDSAPers.) On my way down to Kentucky, I had the opportunity to spend some time in Dayton and catch up with a few friends. A few of us decided to meet up at Milano's right off of UD's campus, and so I headed there last Thursday evening.

When I walked into Milano's I was greeted by a huge smile on the face of Matt Maroon, the student who graduated from UD two years ago and was the first volunteer to travel to Karonga, Malawi to work with the Marianists. He's the one who established the volunteer site that I will be working at for the next two years. I've had a few opportunities to speak with him about Malawi, but I was nonetheless excited to see him. He and I ended up speaking for the rest of the evening, and I couldn't have asked for a better surprise.

Matt's face beamed with energy as he spoke to me about the excitement he has for the work in which I am about to engage. I was surely reassured by his excitement for me. As we spoke, I had the opportunity to ask him a number of questions, but I had no idea that I would walk away feeling as eager to begin my work as I did. Matt's answer to one of my questions settled an internal debate that I've been having since I've considered going to Malawi. I've been debating the value of someone like me going to Africa to volunteer. Surely, there are qualified people there who perhaps would have an easier time doing the work that I will be doing because they are already familiar with the culture, the climate, the people, the languages, and so on. So what value do I bring?

The instant I asked Matt that question, his eyebrows raised, his head leaned back, and his shoulders opened. "Huge! You bring huge value," Matt replied. "You can't even begin to imagine the value you bring." Matt went on to describe the way that the education I've received here in the U.S., particularly the type of education I received at UD, is extremely rare there. Furthermore, the access to information I've had here in the U.S. is exponentially greater than the access to information the people there have. He insisted that the information that I have seen, heard, and read in my life time, and the perspective I have of the world because of all that information, will be of tremendous value there; so much so, that I probably won't understand it until I get there.

I don't think I yet understand the disparity Matt described. It couldn't be that great, could it?

Matt's insistence, however, assured me that I will be of use there--that I won't be some wealthy, white American on a tourist trip to the third world, bringing along my funds as the only valuable characteristic I have. He believes the information, perspectives, and understanding that I possess will be of incredible value to the people with whom I will be working; talk about motivation!

The First One!!!

2008-06-18T16:20:00.000-05:00

I received my first donation in the mail today!!! Woohoo!!! :) :) :)

Thank you, thank you, thank you!

It's very exciting to see something start to come from all this hard work!

I never realized how hard it is to raise funds. It truly takes a lot of time, preparation, commitment, and hard work to even try do it adequately. Also, the simple idea of approaching people, calling people, or even sending a mere letter to ask them for money is challenging in itself. I had a hard time even starting the process because I was so scared to do it wrong. I didn't want to offend people by asking them for money, especially since the economy is not in its best position right now.

It is a daunting task, but I've gotten the first set of letters out there, I've starting contacting people, and with the generous help of my sister, I've made plans for a fundraising event (more info on that soon!). I've gotten the wheels rolling, and today, I saw the first fruits of that work. I already feel incredibly grateful for the way people have supported me in this venture; the blessings abound!

And So The Story Begins

2008-06-10T20:18:00.000-05:00

(Below: A child in Malawi. Taken by Ryan Dugan.)

Hello and welcome!

These blogs have proven to be a popular and effective way to keep people updated on what's going on in someone's life, so I've decided to start up my own as a way of sharing with you the rich experiences in which I will soon be submerged. I've already been hard at work preparing for my volunteer experience, so the story has already begun!

As you may or may not already know, I will be spending the next two years of my life in Africa. I will be volunteering with the Marianist Volunteer Program (MVP)with four other UD graduates and one teacher from Iowa. Together, we will be supporting the Marianists with three major programs that they are running in the town of Karonga, Malawi in South-Central Africa. The three programs include Chaminade Secondary School, M.I.R.A.C.L.E. Technical College, and the Women's Empowerment Program.

Chaminade is an all boys boarding high school that hosts about 350 boys from various parts of Malawi. M.I.R.A.C.L.E. is a trade school for female and male youth between the ages of 17 and 27 who never completed their formal education. All of the students at M.I.R.A.C.L.E. have lost at least one parent, many of them to AIDS. And the Women's Empowerment Program (WEP) is a microcredit program that provides small loans to women of the surrounding area, working to bring them out of extreme poverty and empower them to have a stronger position in society; the WEP is an incredible program, and I'm excited to contribute whatever I can to help it continue to succeed.

My specific placement is as a teacher of Biology and Social Studies to first year students at Chaminade. Chaminade's headmaster has also expressed an interest in me assisting in the development of a counseling program for the boys. Such an endeavor would undoubtedly be a significant challenge, but I am extremely excited by the prospect of already putting to use the knowledge I've gained from my UD education and engaging in a project that could directly help the boys in the school.

If all that doesn't already sound like enough to fill my plate, I am also already working with Matt Meyers, one of the other volunteers, researching Permaculture gardens. Permaculture is a way of designing gardens that utilizes the many aspects of a particular ecosystem in order to develop highly productive, self-sustaining, and environmentally friendly gardens. Not only do these gardens have the potential to produce much needed nutrition for the students, but their design actually has the potential to improve the quality of the soil and the environment. Permaculture is an extremely exciting movement that is emerging throughout the world. Google it, and check it out; it's really cool stuff!

As I have gained more and more details of what I will be doing in Karonga, I have become more and more excited about my decision to dedicate over two years of my life to volunteering. Malawi is one of the poorest countries in the world with the eleventh lowest per capita Gross Domestic Product. In addition to those economic challenges, Malawi faces one of the highest HIV/AIDS prevalence rates in the world with about 14% of the population living with HIV/AIDS. These issues combine with some serious educational inadequacies, definite environmental concerns, and troubling cultural inequalities to make Malawi a country in true need of help.

(Above: Malawian children - Ryan Dugan)

With all of those challenges facing this country, I know that I am going to face many challenges as well. In those challenges, though, I know I will have so many opportunities to grow, and that is what excites me about this commitment. There is so much I can learn through this experience. My simple hope is that I can give something to the people who I know will be teaching me.

Right now, I still have a great deal of fundraising to accomplish, so I am working hard on staying focused on that task and trying not to spend too much time looking into the things I will be doing once I'm there. I have to keep reminding myself that I have to raise the funds to get there before I can start doing any of the work.

With that, I should get off here, and quit daydreaming about the exciting adventures ahead.

If you are interested in making a donation to make this work possible, you can contact me anytime at taube.andy@gmail.com, or you can send donations to:

Andy Taube

10022 S. Malta St.

Chicago IL, 60643-2121

MVP has recommended that any checks be made out to me, and then I can collect them all and write one final check made out to them. If you are interested in receiving a tax deduction you can make a check out to the Marianist Volunteer Program and send it to me. I can then contact MVP and ask them to send a letter to you as a receipt of your donation.

Thank you for your support and for being a part of this journey with me!