Safe travels!

Today I am going to pick my brother and brother-in-law from the airport and could not be more excited!  I am grateful this Thanksgiving for so many things.  I am routinely grateful that my basic needs are met.  Gratitude I hope to take with me far beyond this experience.  I am grateful for friends around the globe.  And I am grateful for family.  I am grateful for their support.  And I am grateful that we can take a family vacation Malawian style, the Griswalds have nothing on this family vacation.

As I have traveled the day and a half to get to the capital to meet them I found myself telling everyone about their coming visit.  Malawians are keen on asking many questions and sometimes I like to offer too much information to satisfy their inquiries.  A classic case of the over-share.  My transport from my remote village, off the grid, started by standing in the back of a pick up truck.  We broke down 3 times in the first 20 miles.  I then got to town and hopped on the back of a semi-truck, which was transporting maize.  This was the perfect ride.  It was beautiful out.  I was basically sitting on a giant beanbag soaking up the African rays.  However, about an hour into the ride the truck breaks down.  I am in the middle of nowhere and start to walk to see if I can hitch a ride.  About a mile into my walk an ambulance pulls over to the side of the road.  They offer me a ride.  I go to get in the back of the Toyota Land Cruiser and see that there might not be room.  Side note: there is always room for one more when it comes to transportation here.  Mini-buses that should carry 12 people regularly carry 30.  This ambulance is no exception. 

I go to get in and the ambulance is transporting a patient, which is a little bit of a surprise because ambulances here are used for many different purposes.  I try to decline the ride but they are persistent I come with them.  I climb in the back and sit on the floor on top of my backpack.  Trying not to invade this sick man’s space.  I look up and see a man in military garb.  We make small talk.  I keep scanning down to see if the man is okay and see that he is in handcuffs.  I then piece it together.  The man is lying on a mat in fetal position, in handcuffs.  This is the conversation between me and the officer:

Me: Oh, you are transporting an ill prisoner?

Officer: Yes, he is not okay.

Me: Sorry to hear that.

Officer: Yes, he is mentally disturbed so we must take him to the regional hospital.  He is mad.

Me: Okay…

Officer:  He is psychotic and has become very violent.

Me: Oh but he is sleeping now. Is he sedated? (naïve me!)

Officer: No, he is very tired because he had a psychotic episode today.

Me: ah…

Officer: Yes, he was very violent.

And cue 5-hour car ride.  I was ready to react…somehow.  When the man woke up and stared at me I tried to look but not too much.  To appear neutral yet natural.  Yeah right.  I can’t hide my feelings of awkwardness very well.  Something for the most part I have come to accept about myself.  But then he started to struggle to sit up, in a manner that took a while without the use of his hands.  My body tensed.  I looked straight ahead.  Hoping that yet another awkward position I found myself in didn’t escalate to an interesting documentary of sorts.  And then the man started to lull back into a sleepy state.  Slowly he began to inch closer to me and then finally rest his head on my shoulder.  I kept thinking of the least of these and that how we treat prisoner’s matters.  How we treat the infirmed matters.  How we treat the mentally unstable matters.  Three-in-one was resting his head onto my shoulder.  And then as we went over bumps and up the escarpment he kept slipping and slipping. And soon his head was resting on my lap as he snored through his slumber.  All the while I was hoping the car ride would end and that it would end with me at the rest house where I could take a hot shower and not end with handcuffs strangling me.  We did arrive.  We arrived at the mental hospital to drop him off.  It was a free ride that resulted in me being in the closest contact I have ever had with a criminal. 

I was able to take a hot shower, although the light bulb broke and I was literally showering in shards of glass.

So maybe my family will get to experience the ease of travel in Malawi.

Safe travels this Holiday Season!

Tailored

I recently finished helping to coordinate a tailoring training with the women of our HIV/AIDS support group.  Although it was incredibly challenging to organize a training at the village level it proved to be well worth the effort.  We had a small celebration in which they received a certificate, a coke, and fried dough called a mandazi.  Also, on their graduation day a peace corps friend of mine came to lead a session to teach them how to make reusable menstruation pads, known as The Pad Project.  It is discouraging to see how normal natural things can result in making life so difficult from a lack of resources. One of the many things I never thought about in regards to the developing world.  So the women were so excited to put their new skills to practice to fulfill such a practical need. 

The tailoring group of 10 amazing ladies have a sewing machine to share and use for free.  The group has made some items to sell to start generating some income.  In which a portion will go to the HIV group to help purchase supplies for homes based visits and the remaining portion will go to the individual that made the goods.  I hope that these small funds are able to improve the quality of life for the women working and also for those that are homebound. 

Getting the sewing machine to my village was a logistical nightmare! 

I traveled to a city in the North, called Mzuzu, to buy the machine.  I was making great strides to be prudent.  The sewing machines here are massive.  They are foot powered manual beasts.  If “the beast” were a car it would be a Buick compared to a modern day swinger machine you can buy at your local Wal-mart. This was one of those ventures that made me realize how scarce resources can be here.  I purchased the machine and the men at the store carried it to the bus depot so I could start my trip home.  We get “the beast” into the back of a mini-bus and we are on our way.  The conductor of the mini-bus said that I was going to need to pay for the whole row of seats because people were not going to fit.  I agreed.  But then he continued to cram people into the 12-passenger vehicle.  So when people began to pay and we were on our way out of the city I announced I would only be paying my portion.  Sometimes I can be stubborn.  Everyone on the bus agreed that this was fair, except the conductor.  Everyone on the bus began talking at the same time to resolve the issue.  I then was asked to get off the mini-bus.  I think he was bluffing and thought I would cave and pay.  I called his bluff and got off.  Sometimes I can be stubborn.  I was then walking down the street, more like waddling.  Because this machine is a beast.  On top of it I am balancing a package, which I am transporting for another volunteer.  I was struggling.  In time I make it to a staging area to catch another mini-bus.  But this change of buses sets me back which means I will have to spend the night in another stop over city to avoid traveling at night.  I was annoyed. And defeated. But stubborn…no…let’s say determined.

The next day I gear up for another mini-bus ride.  I properly negotiate a deal.  We get to the town that is nearest to my village and unload the machine onto the pick-up truck that will go to my village.  Within no time the mini-bus drives away.  With the package I was taking to the volunteer.  Not on my watch. 

I begin sprinting down the street after the mini-bus.  Yelling for people to help me.  Another man started running with me and said he can call the driver.  People were yelling…The white woman is running!  Thanks for the heckles.  I begin to cry while running (a new experience).  I felt so responsible.  Care packages here can really brighten gloomy days.  I then see the mini-bus driving towards me.  I am standing in the middle of the road in a lean to.  Sometimes I can be stubborn.  The guy that was running with me said that driver/thief came back because he called.  So I owed him money. I said, “I am not giving one more Malawian one more kwacha! (kwacha = currency, exchange rate $1 = 380 kwacha).  A small amount…I can have a flare for the dramatics. The mini-bus stops.  I then have this exchange after I retrieve the package. 

Me: You stole my package!

Thief/Driver: Yes

Me: You stole!

Thief/Driver: Yes

Me: You are a thief!

Thief/Driver: Yes

Me: I should call the police

Thief/Driver: Yes

Me: You don’t understand what I am saying.

Thief/Driver: Yes

Me: Ugh

Thief/Driver: (Blank Stare)

All the while there was a man named Alipo (his name means present) who was tagging along for this episode.  He was standing behind me and kept saying “This is NOT REALITY!” 

At one point I responded…This is REALITY!

After I walked away I was talking with Alipo who kept saying…”This is not reality.”

And finally I said, “Alipo, this is reality”

And his response, “Well, this is not the reality I choose.”

The bottom line is we do not get to choose reality.  Reality exists.  The reality of life here is raw and…real.  As in your face as it is I think of two things. I recognize that I am still ignorant to so many of the problems that are hidden from onlookers.  And two: as difficult as it can be to be exposed to complex issues at least it is a reality that lives and breathes.  It is not a reality that is conjured up inside of a computer or on social media.  I am not looking at the world through a device.  I feel it and smell it and live it.

This is reality.

We may not be able to choose it but maybe we can change it, maybe we can mend it, and maybe we tailor it. 

                                                                        Tailored.

Shine Girl Shine

Mercy, A Camper

Our World Empowered (Team Name)

Masweeties

We GLOW



Empowerment through Writing




Learning about HIV/AIDS through Grassroot Soccer



Camp GLOW

Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) is a Peace Corps sponsored girl's empowerment camp to address gender equality.  This year, we invited 66 young women selected from Secondary Schools across Malawi to attend the 10th Annual National Camp.  We also invited many strong professional Malawian women to join us, such as a Justice, a journalist, a nurse, a banker, and Malawian’s internationally renowned fashion designer, and many more.  Peace Corps has worked since 2003 with Malawian partners to organize this annual event. 

Camp GLOW supports young women as they endeavor to take charge of their futures, their choices, their bodies, and their heritage. We help them through a variety of activities to develop assertiveness, set goals, and plan their future careers and lives. 

In true African fashion we used Call and Response at different parts of everyday to weave in themes to what we were learning. 

Let’s try it…

Call: I am the author of my life.

Response: I am the author of my life.

Call: My body is my own.

Response: My body is my own.

Call: My dreams can come true.

Response: My dreams can come true.

Call: My voice is unique.

Response: My voice is unique.

Call: The world is better because I am here.

Response: The world is better because I am here

and I GLOW. 

I am the author of my own life…I am the author of my life.

 We discussed candidly at Camp GLOW the reality that we cannot always control the lot in life we are given but we can control our response.  Our response is important.  Our response is our way to change our lives and the lives of others. The plot of our life and the characters in it might be beyond our control but as the main character and the author we all have the power of choice.  And where choice does not exist we must create choices.  The plot for young women in Malawi may include the following themes: early marriage, pregnancy, high chance of contracting STIs (including HIV), risk of child trafficking, and other poverty increased conditions.  All of these issues impact the grim statistics of girls and the lack of education they attain. 

According to the World Bank 27% of Malawi’s girls are enrolled in secondary school, of that 13% will attend and a mere 5% will pass the MSCE (Malawi School Certificate Exam).

The story board that determines if a young female student in Malawi goes to school is determined by her ability to pay fees, commute to school (up to 5/10k) or pay boarding fees, her ability to avoid pregnancy or infection, overcome Gender Based Violence, and many other schemes.

Gender equality is important to the narrative of Malawi because gender equality is closely linked to development.  Where gender inequality exists, so does an increase in underdevelopment of communities and countries.  Increasing female attendance in secondary school by a mere 1% equals an increase of .3% in a Country’s average annual per capita income growth (Chicago Council of Global Affairs).  Gender Equality matters. 

At Camp GLOW we addressed the issues that might hinder a young woman from completing school but the key is to recognize her ability to self-advocate and make the right choices; to always make the better choice and to be the author of our own story.

My body is my own…My body is my own.

 Under this theme the focus was the importance of living a healthy life especially in regards to nutrition, female health, HIV/AIDS prevention, and Malaria prevention. A major portion of female health was learning the importance of healthy sexual choices and information on menstruation.  It is known that in Malawi a reason for poor female attendance in the classroom is lack of options of dealing with monthly menstruation.  In an effort to keep girls in school and increase school attendance, we taught them how to make their own reusable menstruation pad also known as THE PAD PROJECT.

Gender based violence exists the world over.  But in areas of poverty the likelihood increases and the resources to properly respond are dismal.  To address gender based violence we discussed what our rights are, especially the rights of our bodies.  And also what we can do to reduce Gender Based Violence in schools.  Our bodies are our own, let us own them.

My dreams can come true…My dreams can come true.

Creating a vision for our lives and creating a plan for how to achieve our dreams was alive and well at Camp GLOW.  In addition to the importance of Goal setting and learning how to budget we talked about the vital purpose of role models.  By bringing in different women that have achieved their goals serves not only as inspiration but also as a practical guide to success.  This is especially important when realizing how limited the access to knowledge is for the average Malawian. One way to increase the camper’s access to knowledge was through a trip to the US Embassy.  On this field trip each girl was given a basic computer lesson and attained an email address.  In the world today information is available but knowledge of how to access it is limited. 

At Camp GLOW we yearned to share not only knowledge and skills but also to share wisdom and truth.  To be a voice in their lives to let them know they are worth it and that our dreams can come true. 

My voice is unique…My voice is unique.

Everyone’s voice is important.  How we present ourselves is what makes our voice heard.   Through creativity, writing, song, and dance we learned the importance of self-expression.  We worked with a non-profit Voiceflame, which works to help women (especially disenfranchised women) to share their stories.  The power of storytelling can help to develop a world and a person.  We moved from exercises of writing into learning how to be an effective public speaker, to ask questions, and to find one’s own voice, a voice that is unique. 

The world is better because I am here…the world is better because I am here.

Be a leader and a change agent.  At Camp GLOW we discussed the importance of being a peer educator and the responsibility we all have to take care of the other.  One of our guest speakers, Justice Mwale, taught us, what became our daily mantra, to lift as you climb.  As a leader our role is to help others not only accomplish our own goals.  To dream of a better Malawi not merely a better me…to dream of a better world not only a better we. To lift as we climb.  So the world is truly a better place because we are here.

 I GLOW!

Life after glow includes Club GLOW.  The importance of taking the knowledge, learned at GLOW, home and shared to communities throughout Malawi.  We developed a how to start a club guide to aid in the transition home, the importance of peer education, and the commitment to development. 

We are also excited about the internships that evolved from the camp.  Two campers were selected to intern at the Peace Corps Headquarters and one camper was selected to receive a scholarship and be an apprentice with Lilly Alfonso (Malawian fashion designer).  We hope to continue to develop opportunities for those in attendance at Camp GLOW.  We GLOW. 

Gender equality can be addressed in many ways.  At Camp GLOW our focus was empowerment.  If we develop ourselves we can develop our communities, our countries, and our world.  The camp may only have been one week long, however, hope lasts a lifetime.  Our hope was to speak truth and wisdom into the young women that can change Malawi.  And as one of the characters at Camp GLOW I have a new commitment to Lift as I climb. 

               

It's GLOW time...

What if your worth was measured by your ability to wash clothes by hand, collect and carry bundles of firewood on foot heavy , balance water buckets on your head, or carry a child in your womb, near your chest, or on your back?

Malawian girls and women work very hard.  They toil until their hands and feet become so calloused it almost doesn’t matter that they’re unable to afford suitable shoes. But their hearts appear to be far less calloused than our own. They are resilient and strong, working tirelessly to provide for their families on what little they have.  As Peace Corps Volunteers we recognize the work they do and we want to be part of a better future for the young women of the next generation. Our goal is to partner with them to achieve substantial lives bringing them far beyond lives of merely subsistence.

Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World) is a Peace Corps sponsored girl's empowerment camp to address the gender inequality.  This year, we invited 66 young women selected from secondary schools across Malawi to attend the 10th annual weeklong camp.  We have also invited many strong professional Malawian women to join us.   Our aim is to empower these young women to become active and engaged citizens.

The Peace Corps has worked since 2003 with Malawian partners to organize this yearly event.  Through self-awareness, self-expression and self-confidence, we feel campers can become Malawi's future leaders.

Camp GLOW supports young women as they endeavor to take charge of their futures, their choices, their bodies, and their heritage. We will help them through a variety of activities to develop assertiveness, set goals, and plan their future careers and lives.  Beyond empowerment, Camp GLOW promotes health education specifically focusing on HIV/AIDS, malaria prevention, safe motherhood, nutrition, and overall healthy lifestyles. 

We are excited that the professional women along with the 15 Peace Corps volunteers will lead sessions and discuss issues that impact the people of Malawi.  Our entire staff believes camp attendees will dream of a Malawi which they can change because they are active, engaged, strong, and confident.  They will find their worth far beyond menial tasks by becoming future leaders who are valuable for tomorrow's Malawi.  We can see their strength and we hope their vision can become brighter. 

This article was published here...(also you can read about what my site mate, Mark Gestwicki, is doing)
www.enterprisenews.com/archive/x273438987/Surviving-and-working-in-Malawi

Charcoal from Biomass...

Fuel me once, shame on you… Fuel me twice, shame on who?

I used to think we had options, choices, and prerogative.  And I do.  I think the ultimate first world problem is that we have too many choices.  Too many choices: of what kind of career to chose, movie to watch, food to eat, or which specialty to coffee will satisfy our vegan palette (or whatever fad farm-to -able diet is most popular).  We live in a culture that has so many options because our basic survival is decided for us.  I am coming to learn that choice is a privilege more than a right and one that is not offered to everybody.  Or if choices are available the options are not great options, choosing the lesser of two... 

So what kind of choices do Malawians make?  In terms of fuel the option for those living in the village are both illegal.  Because of deforestation the law dictates that Malawians must not harvest firewood or make/purchase charcoal.  However, in my village electricity is not available and solar power is rare and costly.  So how do mother’s start a fire to cook for their family and purify their drinking water?  They must walk great distances to collect firewood, which is free of cost but high in labor.  Currently the law looks away from this activity, which is good for the family but terrible for the environment.  The effects of deforestation are visible and are requiring that the journey of collection go further and further to where the trees still stand.  When you enter into a family’s outdoor kitchen you find it hard to breathe because the firewood produces so much smoke, which causes respiratory issues.  Well Mama, make a different choice, use charcoal, it burns without creating so much smoke.  That sounds like a better choice.  Except it costs money.  It cost about $1 to purchase what a family would use in a week.  But that is a huge portion of a subsistence farmer’s income.  Too costly.

I think part of our job in the Peace Corps is to look to create choices.  What are the other choices that are locally available? Because they might not be right in front of us but they are there.  We look to find the fuel solution.  On a macro scale it would be to look for energy alternatives: solar, hydropower, wind turbines…you know all the renewable energy sources you learned about in grade school.  On a micro scale it is improved cook stoves or charcoal made from compost. A Peace Corps friend, Cassandra, came to my village and led a session with our HIV/AIDS support group to make charcoal from agricultural waste, mainly maize cobs and husks.  Charcoal made from biomass.  Hippie? Yes.  Does it feel like a science fair project?  Absolutely.  But, It has the potential to accomplish so many goals…less deforestation, less time collecting firewood, potential to sell charcoal without breaking the law.  It may seem small…but maybe it will allow some Malawians to make choices, to create choices, and to be fueled to choose better options. Development work, for me, is becoming less about what can be done and more about what choices can be offered.

Other titles for this blog post…Everybody plays the fuel sometimes, Too Fuel for school, Fuel’s Play, Must have been kissing a Fuel…okay…I’ll stop. 

There's a hole in my bucket

Collecting water at the well is a right, it is also a right of passage for women many places around the world. From a young age girls, in Malawi, are taught how to clean buckets, pump the water, and carry it on their head.  Before the Peace Corps I thought this act alone was a human rights violation.  And it can be if access to clean water is denied or if the journey to the well is a journey that puts women at physical danger or takes girls out of school.  Here in Malawi there are many good water sources and many dangerously contaminated sources, furthermore a community acquiring a well can be a very political issue. 

The collection of water itself is a regular daily chore and it has been happening for a long time.  I have come to see it is a social activity for the ladies…gal pals plan to collect together and then sit and chat around the well, much like office chats around the water cooler in corporate America or over coffee at giant chain (or quaint independent/hipster) coffee shop.  It can be a game for little girls “playing house” to practice with a small cup of water or a small jar.  Personally, I like to consider it a workout and fill two buckets to build my arm strength.  This is partly because the first week in the village I attempted to carry it on my head and it spilled everywhere.  I could hear the judgment in the laughter of the women and in their “pepani” (“sorry” in the local vernacular).  Recently I have grown in courage and have begun carrying it on my head, until…

The cleaning of the bucket, the pumping of the water and the execution of balancing the bucket on my head were all going according to plan.  I could tell my confidence was building as well as the strength of my head, shoulders, and neck.  I took a few steps and heard some cracking.  Followed by a few drops of water, which is not too unusual, as water usually pours over the top.  And then more cracking and more water.  Before I could do anything to change my fate, the bucket had cracked in a spiral formation and all of the cold water in the bucket washed over me.  The bucket was no longer on my head, my head was in the bucket.  All the women around the well laughed.  This time not at me but with me.  This time every “pepani” was genuine and without judgment but with commonality, this time I was relating to them because it has happened to many of them.  Before I had time to change my wet clothes a woman had already brought me a bucket of water.  

This scenario was humiliating and humbling but I have a new kinship with the women at the well.  

Lake Malawi

Life with...

I was committed to integrate and to make my time in Malawi an experience to remember, to learn before teaching, to share before taking, and to accept before rejecting.  I have been here almost a year and have already learned so much, shared many memories, and accepted the newness of a quirky culture.  Many of the lessons I have learned over this past year go back to one of my first experiences when I was in training, living in rural villages with traditional families known as “homestay”, an encounter to better understand village life.   

It was our introduction to life without.  Life without running water, life without electricity, life without toilets, life without phones, life without technology, life without furniture, life without utensils, so on and so on and so on.  Seriously, it is like living in the 1800s.  With much of my free time I have been able to read more than ever before.  I love reading Tolstoy because Russia in the 1800s feels like the future, Westerns seem like my Saturday mornings starting a fire for cowboy coffee, and adventures of minimalists abandoning everything to live off the land seems like a luxury, and Kurt Vonnegut…well he’s just a good author.  

In homestay we sat on reed mats with our “families” eating the traditional food, of this impoverished place, with our hands.  It was a good introduction into what life looks like for subsistence farmers living in chronic poverty.  I was set on having this experience bring my values and beliefs into action, of loving others through shared experiences and integrating as best as I could.  So on the second day in homestay I woke up free from jet lag and ready to dive in.  My host mother served hot, rice porridge and she offered me a spoon in the local vernacular and expressive gestures..  (Internal Scoff, A Spoon?  Do I look like a rookie?)  No, I am determined to integrate.  I graciously declined…I’ve got this, I said in English with an overactive smile and waving my hands.

The porridge was hot and running through my fingers.  Difficult to eat with my hands.  But I was determined.  I kept with it.  I should probably mention I can be stubborn.  And slowly reaching defeat I looked up to see my host mom (23), host sister (8), and host brother (3) all using spoons.  I looked like a savage and a fool.  I realized that I was trying to integrate for myself not for others.  It was then I realized I needed to follow and not lead on my own.  I needed to observe before participating. I needed to ask questions, I needed to learn my own limitations, and I needed to be humble.  And most certainly I needed to accept a spoon when offered a spoon. 

If I am unable to live in humble conditions with humility (and the ability to be laughed at and laugh at myself) I will only see this Peace Corps experience as life without.  And I will miss the Life with…

Life with adventure, Life with compassion, Life with growth, Life with generosity, Life with peace and sometimes Life with SPOONS!