A Weekend In Western World

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

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

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?"

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

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!

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

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)

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)

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

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.)

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

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

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

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

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"

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

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!

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

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!

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.