10.14.2008

One year down.....

On September 27, I had my one year anniversary in Malawi. It also happened to be my school's Form 4 (senior year) graduation ceremony. As entertainment mistress, I was expected to provide music for the ceremony as well as a dance party that night, which meant renting a small radio from a villager and borrowing tapes from everyone I know. Graduation ceremonies are usually 5 hours long, and school dances can go all night, so there was little to no chance that I would make it through the day without stabbing myself in the eye with the pen I had been using to wind up my tapes to the proper song.

Somehow, what would have been the fun factor equivalent of a ten hour staff meeting became, no exaggeration, the best day of my life. The stars aligned and I was saved! My good friend Duncan and his brother Andy are DJs in some clubs in Malawi. Duncan has even played at international music festivals. When I asked Duncan to make me some mix tapes (to cut down on the pen tape winding), he asked if the school could work gas money into the budget, because he was coming to Dzoole!

I was nervous it wouldn't pan out, because musicians promising to play a gig at your village is a favorite pick up line from Malawian men. But Duncan is married and I can trust him. I was at first calmed by Duncan's 4am drunken call the night before the event, confirming our 8 am departure from Lilongwe to Dzoole. Then, I realized that Duncan was drunk and still at work less than 4 hours before we had to leave. For the first time in my year in Malawi though, a Malawian was not late. In fact, he was ten minutes early. We pulled into Dzoole like celebrities, with professional club speakers (3 by 4 feet each), a turn table, strobe lights and a generator to power it all.

The graduation started 4 hours late, at noon, and droned on till 5:30. Every speech shouted out the new literature program and school lunch, and the audience stood up and danced to music between each speech. The ceremony was held in the school court yard, with the church's benches in rows, the whole thing decorated with pink and blue toilet paper. Duncan and Andy went to nice private schools and were in Dzoole for the first time, yet they treated Dzoole's graduation as if they were working at Harvard. They later told me they were shocked at how little English my students knew and how unqualified the teachers seemed; they seemed to take it as a learning experience rather than being rude or condescending about it all, the way many urban Malawians talk to me about Dzoole.

After graduation, we took a break for food and beer (beer for Andy, not Duncan and me) and we started the gig at dark, something past six. Our African-reggae-Micheal Jackson-hip hop dance party went on till past 3 am... and it could have gone much later had we not had the thought of packing up equipment and an hour plus drive back to Lilongwe lurking in the back of our heads. I sat out for only 5 songs, dancing the rest of the time, and have never jumped so high, banged my head so hard, or shook my body so much in my entire life. I was too tired to run for 3 days; every muscle in my body was sore. During the dance, one of my students asked me, "Madame, why are you not tired?" so I asked her the same. She almost looked like she was going to cry. "I am!" But when I told her to sit and rest, she looked horrified; she could rest when the music stopped. The dust from stomping was so thick you couldn't see ten feet ahead of you.

This past weekend, Duncan ran Lake of Stars music festival, a huge international music festival at the lake in Malawi. 4 thousand people came, most of them stoned Brits who complained a lot about Malawi. Duncan looked out at the crowd after his set and admitted that Dzoole brought a little tear to his eyes. He was saying as if he was joking about it, but I think he wasn't. Those students appreciated every song more than anyone ever had before. He has already promised his services next year.

8.23.2008

Iron Chef and ZAIN

First and foremost, I want to thank everyone who helped with the kitchen project. Lunch starts Monday and, one of the first times in my ten months, I really know that I have made a tangible difference at my school. Even before lunch started this week, attendance has increased. Everyone in Dzoole is talking about it.

In town, the Gender and Development club (GAD) just had its iron chef competition. It is a fundraiser where people pay to eat the food from three teams. The teams are given 6,000 Kwatcha ($40) to cook for 80 people! We were given a secret ingredient to incorporate into a started, main, and dessert. There were two this year, yogurt and chocolate (two of the most expensive foods you can buy in Malawi). To top it off, one partner is an amazing helper (peel garlic and chop onions) but doesn't know how to cook. The other, Corri, is an amazing chef, but sadly, a raging alcoholic. We were given the secret ingredient at 7:30 am, then had till 10:30 to menu plan shop in the market for ingredients. We were then driven to the country director's house where all three teams shared a kitchen, grill, camp fire, and mbaola (a small charcoal stove. Corri was passed out till helf ten, only just making the bus to the cooking, so we were down a hand shopping. We cooked bruschetta with yogurt roasted garlic tomatoes and cocoa-papper mayonnaise. The main was bbq sausage with chocolate orange bbq sauce served with curry-yogurt roasted cauliflower served with caramelized onions and glazed carrots. Dessert was burnt sugar banana crepes with chite, dark, and strawberry yogurt sauces. I cooked strait from 11 am till 6:20... even eating the pb sandwich and french fries I brought standing up as I prep worked. The three judges liked the food though and we won! No prize, just the glory and the satisfaction that I won and don't need to compete next year, because that was terrible :)!

Celtel, the leading African phone network, was bought out and is now called Zain. They are creating an international network with the middle east (useless for me) and now network is not only non exist ant in Dzoole, but not working in the city. One out of 20 calls I make actually goes through. It was frustrating to say the least. But because of a grant I am writing, I need to be in town next Saturday and the next one too, so hopefully things will be in better order by then.


At school, the kitchen is finished and school lunch is starting Monday. Late yes, but one week late is nothing for Malawi. It is really exciting and despite a million glitches, it is going worse than planned but way better than expected. Also, some of my favorite form one students had started coming to my house and reading the Chichewa-English dictionary and listen to English radio. It is really fun. Also, my garden is looking fantastic! I have lettuce, mustard greens, tomatoes, carrots, and beets :) It has greatly improved the quality of my life.

On a fun note, next weekend I am the co-MC of a dancehall and hip hop concert in Lilongwe. It is a producer who puts out unknown acts that have positive messages, from anti-HIV to education, as well as just some fun, really cool fusion with traditional music. It should be a real experience! Maybe this is my big break :) I could be the next Ryan Seacrest of Malawi!

I hope you are all well. I really love and miss you all.
KB

8.08.2008

Dust

My time in the city is usually what keeps me sane here... Yogurt, hot showers, dancing, cold beer, and a nice conversation with my city friends. After two and a half weeks in the city though, I am more than full of these things (except the dancing). During break I ended up in Blantyre Adventist hospital with a lung infection. I was in hospital for 2 days on an antibiotic IV and then put on house arrest in Blantyre, which really stinks because there is no Internet near the house there and it's really hard to get anything done. I am now in Lilongwe staying with a friend in a nice clean house (with a bath tub!). I have been relxing and listening to lots of music and reading. It's great. I really am loving African especially Zambian and Malawian music, but miss music from home too (hint hint, blank cd).

It made me realize (or rather remember) how much I love Dzoole though. I went back just for the day yesterday with my friend Brian, who along with a bath tub has a car! Dzoole won finals (as you remember it's been rescheduled many times) 5-0 and it was fantastic! They played so well, dominating the game. As Brian said, it was the best village soccer he's seen, very different from the usually high ball volleying. I have never seen them so happy or excited. They were hugging and jumping up and down like little kids. Plus one of my students was MVP. He is shy and often overshadowed my his best friend, Thomas. Both Mayamiko and Thomas had made the Malawi school district team and were selected to the National school tournament. I'm really proud of them.

Back in Dzoole, the kitchen is being built. It is fantastic and very exciting. I'll know in just one week how the school lunch is going, although I've been impressed with how they are preparing everything, from calling a PTA meeting to getting cooks and firewood and all that.

In town, I am working on grants for girls boarding facilities. It's nice to be doing work after a week of bed rest. Last year, only 10 of 65 girls past their JCE (Junior exams that allow them to go from Form 2 to 3 (between sophomore and junior year). Only 2 girls pasted their MSCE (senior graduation exam). So many girls end up pregnant and tons have sugar daddies, older men who give them school fees or food in return for sex. I would say 90 percent of students board in small rooms in the village (because maybe their family lives 10-20 Km from the secondary school. They are tiny, dirt-floored rooms with 10-15 kids sleeping on top of each other. No blankets, no nothing. They cook for themselves (over fire outside), cut their own wood, draw water and washing, all without the help of their parents. They are completely on their own, impressive for boys, but scary for girls. And the results of these freedoms as well as lack of good support, had particularly obvious repercussions for the ladies.

Although I am still a bit weak, I find time for dancing (I haven't been drinking, but if I am in town, I need to be dancing :) I am anxious to get back, but there is a lot, from more exam making to scheming lessons for next term, that I am not looking as forward too. On the bright side, staying busy makes time FLY.

7.09.2008

With football, it happens... even in Jamaica

Chufukwa Majezi ya America! (It must be the American jerseys)

Dzoole Medicals (DZM) raced to the finals with unprecedented form wearing their lovely yellow American jerseys, donated by the Naples Optimists. With a whirlwind week of football - quarterfinals on Saturday, Sunday and Monday, then semi-finals that same Wednesday and Thursday, and then the 3rd place game Saturday and finals Sunday.. whoa. The whole village was football crazy, with people coming from as far as 20 km away to watch. Even the women watched, with babies tied to their backs. As DZM dominated their semi final game on Wednesday, all the ladies agreed, the reason they played so well was because of the American jerseys, that's for sure.

It's true though. When they put them on, the team seams to stand a little taller and play with a little more pride. They said it makes them feel special, because they got the jerseys without doing anything. What I keep telling them though is that they DO do something. They practice regularly, have weekly board meetings, are building a youth center, collected maize for the nursury school, and have even been making peanut butter (and soon soap too) in IGAs (income generating activities).

They made a camp all week, sleeping in a single house (think 20 players jammed into a college dorm room) cooking huge vats of nsima ( literally 5 or 6 metal buckets, not even pots) over fires out back. At night, they joked and played cards by candlelight. By day, they washed clothes by the river and kicked the ball about. They never took off their new or old jerseys, often wearing both or spreading them out so everyone had one. By Sunday, they were ready for the finals.

Their opponents also wore yellow, so the team switched to their traditional Argentina shirts, and had their children wore the yellow ones. They painted their faces with war stripes, a mixture of crushed blue chalk (crushed in the same giant mortars that crush maize) and my sunscreen. The children, also painted and decked out in Dzoole apparel, led them on by hand onto the field, just like in the premiership. The crowd roared as if David Beckham was taking the field. Unlike the MLS though, the game started nearly 3 hours late. It was called 10 minutes early in a 0-0 draw. They said we would not finish the game the next day, but rather restart a full game the next morning.

Both teams looked fantastic. It was a truely even match. Dzoole was not playing their level best though. They were nervous and somehow rushing. I think they were relieved to have chance to redeem themselves.

That night, we returned to camp, and the entire team was more tired than I had ever seen them. Malawians never tire. I once saw a woman returning from her maize garden 5 miles away after digging peanuts for hours (backbreaking work, literally). She had a baby on her back, a 50 kg bag of peanuts on her head, firewood on top of that, a hoe in one hand, and 3 6ft stalks of sugar cane in the other. She porobbably arrived home, cooked dinner, and drew water. It sometimes seems all Malawians can do this type of work. But that night, these boys were tired. Their bodies were worn from an intense 90 minutes (ok, 80 minutes), 5 days of camp (sleeping on the floor as usual but now sharing blankets and with 20 other men), and 5 days of camp meals that were always seemingly endless amounts of food somehow thinly spread amongst those 20 men.

More than anything though, they seemed numb. They'd been so ready to win, but were ready for a loss as well. This was not something we saw coming.

The next morning, at 11, an hour after the proposed kick off, I was taken by the hand by Bernard to see the Shadow MP cup host. Apparently, Samuel's team was refusing to show up to the game; they wanted it next Sunday. The ten minute walk took nearly an hour, as we had to stop and debate each option with every passer by. The team was unfazed by this lack of closure. In fact, they seemed calmer and happier than they had all weekend. We chatted, played cards, and made our last lunch together. Just as we finished, around 3 pm, a messenger came to tell us that finals would be July 20. After a verbose pep talk from the coach. Many players had traveled to the game (mostly brothers of current players and former players, some paid a lot of money and traveled 3 or more hours to play for the team), and all agreed they would return again. They seemed excited for a second chance to win, and even another camp with each other. We dispersed.

They begin training again today for their second final. Everyone in Dzoole is chatting to us about the final. Rather than being annoyed that their opponent had left them hanging, some reply that Samuel was just too scared (anawopa) or simple say that they will win, succeed, and win again (tidzawina, tidzapambana, tidzamenia). Most of them time they just shrug, smile, and say it happens (zimachitika).

5.23.2008

How to stay busy in the village

The cold season has arrived overnight. I return from runs in leggings and a henle shirt with numb, swollen fingers. Once refreshing bucket baths seem to drill the insides of my bones. Midday, the sun is so strong it cracks the ground and makes you sweat, but in the shade, you realize how cold the air still is. When the sun sets, your breath appears. Javit (my Chichewa tutor and best friend) said, "And this is only the beginning." Yikes. Somehow though, I never have time get a fire going in time each morning to heat my bath water.

In the village, they say there is nothing to do but drink, gossip, and have sex. As a single woman who does not drink and does not have a deep enough command of Chichewa to spread rumors, I am shocked I manage to stay as entertained as I do.

The recent gossip has been about Holli, the love of my life, who is, it turns out, not a compulsive theif. Song randomly lied that Holli stole money (perhaps bored village gossip), which we found out when Holli appeared two Saturdays ago, the day before a game. Needless to say, Song isn't really coaching us anymore. They tried to make me coach, which is laughable, but I have taken over their physical training regime. Holli had quite working for Song and decided to run off for a bit and returned for the next game (he is captain after all). He is missing again as of Tuesday, but as Javit told me Wednesday that this is just because they didn't have their usual Wednesday game, and Holli is not a thief, he just likes to "borrow" bikes, this time his uncle's, and come back a few days later. I told Javit to remind me to never borrow Holli my bike (yes, Malawians use 'borrow' the way one should use 'lend') and, though he insists Holli would never steal from me, Javit said, looking at my shiny South African mountain bike, that that would probably be a safe choice not to test this theory.

I have started turoring my good friend Beckham (everyone in Malawian villages has a nickname, or 7) to take his JCE exams, a national exam you take after sophomore year. He just got a really amazing job working in an HIV-counseling and testing center near the trading center, but it is really for people who have passed MSCE (senior exams). He worked so hard and interviewed so well, that they gave him the job, but conditionally, that he should pass his JCE next year. Again quoting Javit, "That one was a terrible one," always smoking pot and fighting with his parents. He failed his JCE and did not return to secondary school. He is HIV positive. Both his parents died of AIDS, and all three of his sisters are positive. He and his wife are positive, but they just had their 7-month-old Van Persie (named after Arsenal's star striker) tested and he is negative, and now no longer being breast fed, so he will stay that way. Now, when he is fit, he plays with the team, usually just for a half though, and is their manager. He is Holli's best friend, so the two come to my house for occassional (and I stress occasional, as Becks is busy with work and Holli is busy stealing (borrowing) bikes. They are defanitely fun sessions though. It has inspired me to work even harder with Chityiola to make the adult learning center at the youth center when it is finished (funds are in and bricks are being baked as we speak!).

Speaking of work, teaching is a little OK (oh god, now I sound Malawian), some days unrecognizably better than others. I am working on the grant for a school kitchen and pots now, lunch will begin next term. I'm also starting water treatment for the school water and setting up hand washing buckets by the Chimbuzi (pit latrines). Of course, the primary school team is still rolling well. I am beginning to look for funding sources for the 'acadamy camp' as well, and desperately seaking cleates (no matter how poor their condition.. they generally sew together the soles of second hand American cleats bought in the market to the leather of normal shoes or even canvas or fertelizer sacks) and shin gaurds.

Two girls said that teachers hit on them this week. The deputy had given a school loan to one's, and said she didn't have to pay it back if she slept with him. The other says the assistant deputy proposes (a word used to ask for sex) to her in his comments on her English essays. Both girls are in Form 2 (10th grade). It is disgusting and I am going to Kasungu for my midterm break or the next to the division of education and bringing the book as evidence. I talked to my boss, and she said this actually works. We'll see. It has to stop though.

What else? Chickens dug up my carrots, beans, and mustard greens, so I planted more carrots and brocoli. I was furious. That night we had a dinner for the team and a dance party using the battery and radio from one of the village bars (literally a thatch mud hut with home brewed liquor. I bought a bunch of reggae tapes from the market. IF ANYONE HAS OLD TAPES, WE WANT THEM... NO ONE USES CDS! I volunteered to kill the Chicken (which I have on video, don't worry) And man, Malawians can dance! They got down from 6 till 11:30 when Martha kicked them out. I am seriously toying with the idea of a regular village youth disco as an income generating activity for the club. Sweet.

I have tons of pics, especially of the team and the party. My parents will bring them on a CD and get them out. Speaking of...

I am so excited for my parents to visit!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Please visit me too. Like I said, I love you all too much.

XOXOKB

We are the champions!

This last week I have been very very very busy, but in a good way... mostly.

FIRST OF ALL, DZOOLE MEDICALS WON THE DYSON CUP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It was amazing. They trained so hard leading up to it and played a phenomenal game, so fun to watch. Martha and I cooked dinner for the team the night before, nsima, greens, soya burgers (ground up soya pieces, bread, eggs and onion--- they call them soya buuugas), and guacamole... which they also love to say.... guacaMooooolaaay. Then, the next day, we walked over with the team to Indolera village about 2 hours away and watched them win 3-1. My close friend Gerald Tchitchola scored all three goals... a hat trick. Interestingly enough, Tchitchola hadn't practiced after a fight with the coach, who it turned out everyone hated, and wasn't going to play in the game till I talked to him and had his wife (my closest Malawian woman friend) talk to him.... he is very whipped. So thank god for that.

The coach, Song, continued to incite problems though. I HATE him... he is a womanizer and always saying bad things about Tchitchola and Bernard for being old... although they are the best people on the team. He told everyone that the money from the trophy, 12,000 kwatcha, a little less than 90 bucks, should be split up. But the team is huge, and it would not be well spent. However, invested, the team could buy 2 really nice balls (balls are expensive here) or save up for a trip. Suddenly, the team was divided and pride and egos were clashing. It was a mess, and two players from my school now refuse to play for the team. That was Sunday, the day after the cup.

That night, I had a nightmare that my friend Holli, the team captain, left with his brothers (who were visiting to help play in the game) and never came back. Now, don't be shocked by this, but I am in love with Holli... he just doesn't know it. It is the reversal of every situation in Malawi, where men propose to us all day. I eat a scone every day for tea, because he works in the scone bakery. It is ridiculous on many levels... his hands are always covered in bread flour, he didn't go to secondary school... um, he is MALAWIAN, and doesn't even speak English!


Well, Monday morning, he rode by on his bike with his bro on the back and stopped to say hi. That afternoon, he wasn't there so I had sweetpotatoes with my afternoon tea. I ate at Tchitchola's house and then discussed plans we're hatching for an adult learning center. We got the idea because he is the hardest working teacher at primary, wow. This guy and his wife have the coolest kids and work so hard. But our friend Becks on the team is HIV positive and got a really great job at St. Gideon's counseling center for HIV, but it is a special contract that is conditional that he pass his JCE exam within 2 years (the exam all Malawians take after sophomore year). Tchitchla said Holli was talking about trying ot get his JCE and wanted to join mine and Beck's tutoring session, but the next day, no Holli. Wednesday, no Holli. The excuses became odd,... he was here or there or other odd reasons for his absense. Thursday, no Holli. Finally, on the way to my bday party (more on that later) our star defender and my closest friend (and my Chichewa tutor) Javit started laughing and said that Holli had taken a loan from his bro to start his own bakery (he does all the work at the current one and gets paid NOTHING by the owner (incidently, the team coach), and money from the weekly break flour, which he has sneakily asked for from Song and Song's bro. No one knows where he is, but he never came back.. with 16,000 Kwatcha ($110 bucks.... more than he makes in a year or even two!). There are rumors that he is in Midisi (the next trading center, like 30 KM from us.

I wanted to cry. The love of my life is the prodigal son of Dzoole.

So, the one who doesn't know I love him will probably never know. But, when Javit said he wanted to go and find him on Friday when I left for Lilongwe and convince him to come back before it was too late, I said he could use my bike.

My party was GREAT. I made beans, rice, cabbage, and guac. It was me, Martha, a Njondo ( a friend who used to live in Dzoole and was visiting), players from the team (Beckham, Kondwani, Tchitchola, Bernard, and Javit) and then Justice (my favorite student and right hand man). We jsut laughed and laughed and listened to the radio, ate tonnnns, and laughed more. Awesome... even if Holli wasn't there.


In Lilongwe, two really cool Norwegian volunteers took me to a very expensive and FANTASTIC Indian restaurant. It was awesome. Then we went strait out dancing... in fact, we danced till 5:30 and got home at 6! I had ot wake at 7 to come to do work here at the computer. I feel like absolute death. Awful. But it was soooooooooooooooooo fun.

Today was a mess. The school said that the transport I had arranged for their sports field trip didn't come. It turned out, the driver went to Lilongwe instead! Never told anyone. I called and yelled at him pretty harshly, a no-no in this indirect culture, but I told him that 45 really disappointed kids had been waiting for 4 hours. He felt so bad that he arranged a replacement. All worked out. They are playing the game now, but I couldn't make it because I am drafting up grants for Peace Corps Summer school (more on that in coming weeks/months). I think they will win though; we have been holding training every day for 2 weeks.... god I am exhausted!

There is no water at the transit hour. A pipe broke. I haven't showered. No toilets. I am going ot bed, hoping it is cleared by tomorrow.... which it won't be because what pumber would come Saturday night? and going back home to my site tomorrow morning for a bucket bath.

I love you all. I miss you all. Keep the letters, emails, packages and phone calls coming. They make me very very happy, especially when I am dirty and tired and homesick.

Just a reminder, you can see all my past emails at my blog. http://battingforthepinkteam.blogspot.com/

XOXO
KB

5.01.2008

Enjoying too much

had yet another Malawian meeting yesterday... 5 hours long to accomplish NOTHING. Plus it started 2 hours late. I am on the planning committee for the Cocacola cup, a tournament for school kids. It's actually pretty cool, a regional tournament that has schools then go to district and then a national level. Then, people are supposed to also scout a team to make regional all star teams as well. Very up my alley. I am enjoying too much, as they say here.

Our football team in in the finals this Saturday! We have been training HARD. I have been running with the team in the afternoon and, of course, doing lots of Yoga. I am making some of my students come, and we're making facepaint with crumbled blue chalk and oil. Martha and I are making American ndiwo (relish- what you eat with nsima... to see what nsima is, here is a link that explains it (think smoothe, unsalted, hard grits cooked into hard paste that you roll into balls and eat, dipped in sauce http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nshima). We're making bean or soya pieces and guacamole... they eat avocados as fruit, not savory, so its really cool for them. PLUS, they love to say guacamole.

Samantha gave me a nice idea; she wants to get me a copy of Romeo and Juliet for next term and asked what edition. If you have an old coppy to send, that rocks, but if you get a new copy, I would recommend:
Romeo and Juliet Shakespeare made easy, parallel edition
http://www.amazon.com/Romeo-Juliet-Shakespeare-Made-Parallel/dp/0748702555/ref=pd_bbs_sr_11?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1209647141&sr=8-11
or, we are in desperate need of poetry books,
Unsung song, an anthology of Malawian writing in English
http://www.amazon.com/Unsung-Anthology-Malawian-Writing-English/dp/9990851344/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1209647550&sr=1-1
That is what we are reading right now. It is actually quite good... I love the poems, which is what were are reading. If you get it, you should read it first.

Next year, we have a novel (Smouldering charcoal) and short stories from Africa (looking for a rain god), which is AWESOME and includes short stories form all over africa.
http://www.amazon.com/Looking-Other-Short-Stories-Africa/dp/0333604490/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1209648171&sr=1-1
In fact, I reccomment you reading it and then sending the copy to me haha. it will be a challange to read the novel and the short stories next year. Because students don't have books, reading is a huge challange for them, as is any english, but reading especially.

Check out some Malawian music. It's very cheezy and poppy, but really fun. It's the stuff we played at our school dance last week. It was awesome... danced so hard the room filled with sweat. THey love Zambian music, like teh Third and Jimmy. the song its over over is awesome. THe black missionaries are the most popular Malawian band.. rad.


I love you all,
KB

Shakespeare and wooden penises

I wasn't sure how to get around the condom demonstration I wanted to do, but the administration would not allow. The students don't know the definition of abstenance (but say it as the answer to every question incolving AIDS...it's usually the answer I'm looking for, but still useless if they don't UNDERSTAND it), they can't define AIDS as anythign other than "a killer disease," and they say that if they have sex, they won't use condoms because condoms are not 100 percent effective (so a sure 0 percent is better?). So, I arranged for my articulate friend Crispin, the head of the People Livign with HIV support group to talk to the kids in Chichewa. He was fantastic. The kids were cheering and loving the class. It was fascinating, ebcause they loved the Chichewa, but when asked what is AIDS, they couldn't answer in Chichewa, but only with memorized, but not understood, English. I almost had a heart attack (as did the kids) when he pilled out a huge wooden penis and passed out condoms to the entire class, making kids put the condom on the model. I was a little worried about gettign in trouble, but happier to see soem guys, ones who i know are sexually active, shoving handfuls of condoms into their pockets. They said that they are too scared to go to the health center, because their parents will know they went. SOOOO, every time a student is late, I have a new rule that they have to go and get me three condoms from the health center. That willl work even better than gardening.

Speaking of, I've had late comers water my garden every day this week! My beans have produced, and I ate fesh beans (they cook in 10 minutes!), I've been lovng bean leaves, which you cook like spinach with onion and ground peanut flour, and my pumpkins are rocking! Soon i will be able to eat their leaves, which I love. Pumpkins do really well here. Lettuce never works in my village. But my rasishes look ok, as do my carrots. Rape greens are also coming along :)


And on the subject of food, I just spend 20 minutes loading 50 50 KG bags of rice into the back of a 2 tonne truck. Yes, that is 2,500 KGs of rice for the school lunch program next term. Now we have to figure our firewood and labor. Oh man.

I felt a little bad, because as we were there, you could just see the school committee's eyes wide with all the rice they were gonna cook for themselves. I lied. I said that American NGOs were big on accountability (true) and said that each week i would be doing an inventory of the bags (also true), so I guess it was a half lie. In a full lie, I said that if any bags were missing, the NGO would come to teh village and take back the rice All the school committee could do though was ask what else they are giving us. Jeeez. It's terribel They are awesome, but it's cultural.

I am in the city for tonight (as I had transport to there and figured I'd just stay till tomorrow, but have to head abck tomorrow morning, for a school DISCO. It is at 3:30 pm, and we're using a tape player. But I got a copy of a song called "it's over" by a Zambian band called Jimmy. Look it up, I love it. There is gonna be some DANCING.

I was allocated my new subjects. I am teaching English form 1 (like last term) and Lifeskills 3 and 4 (also like last term) and then two new classes, form 4 business and form 3 English Lit, a newly required class. I cannot emphasize how absurd it is that we have to teach English lit, a class that reads 4 required texts in 2 years. My school only had 1 copy of each of the 4 texts, African short stories, Malawian poetry, and African novel, and get this, Shakespeare. WHAT THE HELL???? These kids can't even answer the question, "how are you" without stuttering, who speak worse English than I speak Chichewa (in 6 months of learning), and MAN, they need to read Romeo and juliet (of which there is 1 copy)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now comes my appeal... any copies of Romeo and Juliet, perhaps a copy of the Baz Lurman film (we do a movie night once a year and rent a generator... maybe we coudl tag that on! and any Romeo and Juliet for children, in plain English. SEND THEM TO ME>
Kathryn Brand PCV
US Peace Corps
PO BOX 208
Lilongwe, Malawi
AFRICA

I love you all.
KB

3.24.2008

Football, Yoga, and Tobacco.... a natural combo

The Dzoole medicals have made it to the village league semi-finals!
The price of Tobacco is double that of last year. Malawi is so happy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
All is well? Actually, no. The team captain says that no one is coming to practice because of Fodya (tobacco, which must be struck in leaves of 4 onto blades of grass and hung on shaded poles, taken down, carried in bundles on bikes to be graded, and sold... ) My good friend who teaches in the primary school says that school attendance has halved since prices went up... the children stay at home to work on tobacco.

While I have no idea how to stop the child labor going on in Dzoole, I do feel it is in my power to get the guys to show up to practice. The thing is, they all WANT to practice, but only for a quick tobacco work break; they simply don't have time for the typical 2 hours of waiting around before anything starts. They are becoming very American when, despite their lack of English, they clap their hands twice above their heads and say, "Program guys, program. TIME IS MONEY guys!" Practice begins at "2:00" Malawian time, which means people show up sometime in the afternoon between 3 and 5, and practice starts when there are enough guys to get a game going. They come, see no one is there, leave, and come back an hour later. In this two hour period, all the team might show up, but never form a group of more than 4 or 5, and so practice never starts.

One morning, I made my friends Kondwani and Holli (who we call program) saw me after a run, before their quarter final that day, and I made them do yoga with me. In short, they loved it. Every day last week, we did yoga while we waited for the guys, so that when they showed up, they started yoga, and by 4, the whole team was there to practice.

I felt bad I had to leave (or chose to leave) for Easter. But, Martha texted me on Friday to say that when she showed up at 3:30, they were already half way through a yoga routine!

Days of our Dzoole Lives

have officially finished my first term of teaching.... although not my first term of grading :(

My highest grade so far is a 63 percent, but, to their credit, I have only graded 15 (of over 220 exams in English and History... all of which involve LONG essays... yikes)

Every time I come to town, people come and ask me for updates of "Days of Dzoole Lives" because my village is officially a soap opera... it's rediculous.

I proctored (invigilated as they say) my first exam, and was shocked at how open they are about cheating, and how angry, shocked, and flustered they get when you stop it. It really pissed me off though, because I came off as a total bitch invigilating the Math exam, but saw the teachers in charge of my English and History exams leaving the class, taking tea, and not giving a damn that the students were openly discussing answers and leafing through their notes.

One student in my math exam tried to go to the toilet with the test, his note book, and a calculator. 23 students were marked for talking, obviously looking at other papers, and taking other peoples tests to copy. Yes, I mean they literally stood up, walked over, and picked up the test and started copying. I said anyone talking would be marked, yet they continued to talk, over and over and over. As surprised as I was that they were cheating, they were more shocked that I cared.

Last Saturday, there was a field trip to Misisi (about 1.5 hours away) for sports. The truck showed up 4.5 hours late, and the driver was visibly drunk and smelled liek beer. The teacher laughed at this, greeted him, gave him money, and hten hearded 80 students onto the back of the wall-less flat bed truck (a dangerous thing without it being standing room only crowded and on the dirt roads, not to mention with a wastey faced driver. Half way thorugh, I was so stressed I got sick and ended up hitch hiking home. All the teachers could talk about on Monday was the horror of that they were only given one mineral each (soda) and that the snisma they were given was mgaiwa (teh equivalent of brown bread)... they didn't care about the fact that the school's sports master never showed up or that the driver again left us in the market while the kids were getting their lunch (when I decided to leave) to go to a bar.


I also had it confirmed from my favorite student, Justice, that every single male teacher at the school (except for the now departed head master) has had sex with a student. The older teaher Kapalamula suddenly stopped teaching form 2, and there was much fast Chichewa chatter on the subject, that always stopped when I come in the staff room. I asked Justice to clear it up, and he told me that the sophomore girl he was sleeping with stopped, and everyone was makign fun of him, so he slapped EVERY SINGLE person in the class. That night, they stoned his house. They target sophomores, who take junior exams between soph and jr years, and lie and say that if they have sex with them, they will pull strings so that they will pass (of course, there are no such strings, at least none that these teachers can or will pull)

It was nice, as always, to have a break in Lilongwe. On my way in, I got a great hitch from a very attractive Malawian man who just returned from working in the UK and a masters degree in Peace and Conflict resolution from the University of Copenhagen. In fact, I went on a date with him last night! Although I ducked out to meet with an American I had met 2 weeks ago playing softball, to watch a movie that expats use an LCD projector and sound system to project movies on their wall (talk about feeling like you ain't in Malawi anymore). The movie was an Argentinian film called "9 Queen" and I highly recomment it. It was pretty fun. Not sure if the second was a date, but both events were fun, and both have invited me out tonight... the Malawian for dinner and the American for dancing... talk about when it rains it pours :)

Till then, I am really busy researching options for the school lunch program. I am trying to figure ways to get donations for the food and labor... not big costs, but it adds up for 280 students. They can't afford school fees as is, so I dont want to charge them the huge fee my dep head (as I privately refer to as dick head) is pushing for. I have researched plans for a garden that would supplement ndiwo (relish) costs, but that still leaves cooking oil, maize and protein. I am also toying with the idea of trying to find a partnership school in the US or a church or something that could make it a permanent project with annual contributions. Hmm. If anyone has suggestions or knowledge, please let me know or refer me to someone who does!

Down Down Devil

I like to play a little game at school. I like to count how many times a day my school would be sued if it was in America. One mark for each student hoeing, drawing water, or mopping the floor. One mark when I see a teacher dragging a child by the arm. Another for each prayer said before assemblies, staff meetings, and classes. Ditto for the required Bible Knowledge exam. One more for each teacher sleeping with a student.

Last week, school had a field trip and I lost count. 23 student sardined into the back of a Ford pickup truck, too tightly packed to even sit.

“Tipemphere,” Madame Mosingolo, the leader of SCOM (School Christians of Malawi), said. “Let us pray.”

As we pulled out of school, a good two hours late, the students broke into thunderous gospel music, their praises uninterrupted by bumps in the road or the collapsed bridge with caused us to take the other back road. They would have continued strait for the 2 hour ride the Chawale if only the truck did not run out of gas a mile from our half way point, where there was also a BP station. We sent a student off with a few water bottles and a handful of Kwatcha bills. I sat in the shade of the maize that lined the road and watched the students as they huddled in groups, rehearsing their sermons and putting the final touches on their scripture themed dramas. An hour later, the student returned with diesel and we hit the road again, briefly stopping only to pay a small bribe for a permit fee at the police station (during which time we left the students completely unattended at the busy market).

After arrival in Chawale and the usual half hour of greetings, I ran off to eat lunch with Mary Beth, a Peace Corps Volunteer from my training lass. During lunch, no less than 15 students, teachers, and neighbors stopped by to “greet” us. In Malawi, greeting entails walking in, shaking hands, asking how someone is, and then sitting silently with them for 5 awkward minutes. Each one made a passive aggressive comment on the fact that the students were eating lunch next door, and the teachers kept asking where I was. We steadfastly continued with our lunch, stretching our rice and eggs into a three hour production. With a full belly, I showed up to the prayer meeting an hour before scheduled departure, which I figured would limit my time there to maybe two hours.

On the way over, Mrs. Ziyaya, the wife of my now transferred headmaster (ironically transferred to Chawale) who I had grown quite close to during site visit and my first few weeks in Dzoole, looked at my feet and pulled me to her house to bathe.

After inspecting me, she deemed the rest of me clean, which puzzled her. How could someone have bathed, yet have feet that remained stained with dirt, permanent flip flop stains on my feet’s tops, a cracked brown layer on the soles, and toenails lined in black. The symbolism slapped me in the face as Mrs. Z grabbed the soap from my hands, commanded me to sit on the bench she pulled into the batha, and scrubbed my feet with soap, a stone, and a loofa. We walked hand-in-hand to the prayer meeting.

I entered the classroom to thunderous applause that was, for my first time in Malawi, not meant for me. It was meant for Jesus.

“Up, up Jesus!” the student preacher screamed.

“Up, up Jesus!” the students screamed with delight, in perfect unison.

Down, down Devil.

Hallelujah! Amen.

HALLELUJAH!?!??!?!?!??! AAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNN.

People spoke in tongues… at least I thought so; it may have just been very quick Chichewa. Students did chaotic dramas in which Chamba (pot) smokers, whores, and truant students were reborn when they found Jesus. Hallelujah! AMEN.

“I’m - a - born - again. IMA IMA BORN AGAIN!” went one gospel tune.

At 6:30, three and a half hours of preaching, singing, stomping, and Hallelujah-ing after our scheduled departure, I wanted to knock myself unconscious with one of their bibles. The teachers each made their closing sermons, and the teacher from Chawale turned to me and thanked me profusely for being there. “I hope you learned something,” he said smugly; he had clearly heard that I have not been attending church regularly in Dzoole. “Even if your friend was missing,” he added, as if he had forgotten Mary Beth’s name. The last 20 minute seemed longer than the first four hours.

As we said our good byes for another half hour, he asked me three more times where my friend had been and shook his hands, clicking their tongues to their teeth disapprovingly. They did not seem to mention that not only did none of the other Chawale teachers attend the meetings, but three of them had biked to town during the meeting to get sloppy drunk, as they did every Sunday.

I sat in silence the entire ride home, looking at the star streaked sky. I reached my house at eight, 13 hours after I met the students outside the school that morning, and felt blessed to be home.

2.29.2008

Don't do it again... until I need my garden weeded that is

Since we last spoke, I have made an interesting dicovery. The more you punish Malawian students, the MORE they like you. I was always the chill teacher, and they just walked all over me. I now make them call me Madame (although it makes me feel like I should live in the wild west or Vegas), they must stand to speak, and if they do not participate or do homework or come come late, they msut get me a bucket of water or work in my garden. They are chronically late (none own watches), and a group of 15 students came to senior life skills late. I may them all come to work in the garden, carrying bricks from the trash pit to my yard and put them around the flower beds some otehr students had hoed for me earlier in the week. I read of the list of names for roll call after school, as usual just to make sure htey don't skip out, and there were actually mroe students than on the list! I asked why, and the students just said, "we heard it's really fun, we just wanted to come." Yes, they WANTED to come to manual labor detention. Since I began making them slash (cut crass with knives) and mop, they have taken to bringing me small gifts (bean leaves) and takign notes in class... the bitchier I am, the better they are.

I have just spend the weekend restocking in Lilongwe (buying things I can't get in the village... aka, anything other than powdered milk, and occasionally cassava, eggs, and tomatoes). I don't really have any cell phone reception in my village, so i always schedule phone calls with my parents when I'm in town. This weekend was particularly exciting, because Matt called as well, for the first time I'd talked to him since I've been here. I can only wonder what they think of my Peace Corps experience, as all I do when in Lilongwe is use the internet, each cheese burgers, and drink beer... when they called I was playing softball with a group of expats. I promise, Peace Corps is slightly more hard core than a 27 month stay at a low end country club!

I have been really busy lately, and enjoying everything a whole lot more. I stopped taking Mefloquin, the anti-malaria med, because it was makign me stressed and teary... google it, it literally makes some people CRAZY. I am takign a new one, and feel so much better is unbelievable. I am also going to have more free time soon, as I am hiring a worker to make my fire in the morning (so Ill have hot water to bathe in... it's starting to get chilly), as well as to do my laundry once a week and mop my batha and toilet once a week.... maybe even wash my pots. Washing pots is so hard without running water. I do as teh villagers do, using sand and rocks... you take a wet pot and toss sand in and rub it around with your hands; it gets off all the food, grease, and fire soot! Also, because parrafin has been in short supply, actually OUT, I am splurging on a gel fuel stove to cook with at night. I cannot wait... no more fire or paraffin stains on my pans!

I am working on a school food program, in which the students would either get lunch or a breakfast, as most go till 6 or 7 at night without eating. I am also the new secretary of the Gender and Development comittee for Peace Corps, so I will be writing monthly updates for the country news letter as well as going to all memeber and board meetings. And, I am working with one of the strikers on the village youth club team. He is really well educated, but out of work other than helping on his family's land. he wants to start a 2 week camp next november inw hich boys and girls will play together (this NEVER happens) and then they conitnue as a team for the rest of the year. As well as coaching the camp will have a trip to a Pro league game (their first time out of the village!) as well as gender, life skills, and team skills work shops by anti HIV non profits as well as other PC volunteers. It looks awesome and I will keep you all updated as we chug along on it. Lastly, teh club is also thinking of doing soap making as an income generating activity. Matt is sending osme essential oils, so hopefully well be able to sell tem to the whites in the city for a high price (no one in the village uses soap... see above note on sand in pots)

I have to go to the airport now; Martha's dad is coming... its getting me so excited for when mom and dad come. I can't wait.

I love you all, and want to give a special shout out to the Riddles and Fishers... It was amazing of you to think of me and made my week!

Talk to you soon. KB

Frustration sets in....

How many Peace Corps Volunteers does it take to change a light bulb?

None, silly. Peace Corps doesn't actually change anything.

No no, I'm just kidding... although kindof, not really. In the end, I don't really know how much education can really change anything. The schools need to get better, but as one teacher, I can't fix teh lack of resources, terrible primary schools, lack of work ethic in other teachers, the outdated curriculum, or many of the hundreds of other problems with the school. I am fairly certain that if I came back to Dzoole in 20 years, I would see my female students, without a single word of English or memory of math, with 8 kids and selling mandazi (donuts), just like their mothers do. However, I would also bet that the football team we helped start would still be practicing.

I would say out of 300 students, there are one or two smart and dedicated enough go to college, and none who have the 60-100 bucks a year it would take for most 2 year degree programs. For the village, it is the secondary projects that make a difference.

This weekend, Dr. Max, a Zimbabwean who got his med degree in America and who is our PC doctor, visited our site (he visits all sites each year). He has some interesting views on development and was a huge comfort to me. I had been feeling drained and frustrated by the efforts I'd been putting into my school (doing 5 more credits a week than I'm supposed to, the patron of tons of clubs I don't even enjoy). Not only that, but I felt guilty about all the things I enjoyed doing and that I felt took me away from the school... like career counseling and the village club soccer team and their plans for a primary school acadamy. Max was really impressed with the stories about the team and how didicated they are... and he confirmed by enthusiam for the career counseling and life skills classes I have been holding. I realized that I have been putting alot of pressure on myself. I want my classes to be fun and interesting and like the ones I had at Potomac and Georgetown. However, I realize now that this is simply not possible. Not only is there a language barrier, but they have spent education doing strait memorization. While I was always encouraged to think critically and challenge a teacher, here a student could correct a teacher who made an incorrect math problem on the board, and he would be punished with manual labor... no joke, this has happened several times that I've seen.


I am getting a break from teaching though, and perhaps this is a good thing. I came into Lilongwe on Friday with Dr. Max to change my Malaria medication (Methloquin gives really terrible dreams that are hard to tell if they are real or not) and intensive language training begins on on Tuesday in the Southern region, where I'll be till Saturday. Max said just to stay in LL till Tuesday. At first I felt bad ditching out, but I am ahead in my lesson plans, and 3 teachers have already taken off at least 2 weeks (we've onyl been teaching for 3), so I don't feel too bad.

My headmaster has stil not arrived. Other teachers have confirmed my suspicion that the deputy is stealing large sums of money. They have also confirmed rumors that he has a long history of sleeping with students, and is currently hooking up with 2 (his daughter is a student, by the way). The other young female teacher left this week, just stormed into the office and yelled and quit. She will not be replaced, althoguh the ministry will still pay her, although she is not working... oh Malawian bauracracy. So yes, it has been a stressful week.

How is everyone from home? I will be here till Tuesday and will check the net then, so any notes would be very appreciated. Hope you are all well. I love and miss you. KB

Looking back... my first letter

My village is amazing. It is an 8 km bike ride from a nice little market. and 8 km from a main road, which is 45 minutes on that by hitching, 1 hour by bus to Lilongwe. I have a site mate, a girl in my village. Other than married couples, I am the only person to have someone else in my village. Martha is a health volunteer who has been working to start a youth club soccer team (by youth, she means 18-25 yr old men about. They are great guys, most of whom graduated high school, but as farmers, couldn't go to college or leave their family farms. it's great. martha left for 2 weeks and each day she was gone, they practiced 2 hours each day. The team is doing really well in the area's village league. Now, my job is to expand this to a woman's team. I am also going to work on expanding the program to the high school. If that is successful, we'll begin to work at the primary school. It's great; Martha and I get on so well. I also get on really well with my fellow teachers. The majority of Malawian teachers show up drunk (literally, this happened at all of our practice schools) and none lesson plan. But at my school, Martha has worked with them, and she assures me my first impressions from staff meetings were correct; they work extremely hard and are so friendly and upstanding. Also, my headmaster is super friendly and cool. His wife speaks no English, but we get on great, always joking and chatting. When I stayed with them for a week for my site visit, she had me do all the chores with her... from gathering and cutting wood and building the fire to pounding maize corn in a giant mortar and killing a chicken (BTW, Malawian knives are NOT sharp, so I essentially decapitated a chicken with a blunt strait edge. yuck)... being a Malawian woman is a lot of work.
My school is located on school grounds, its small, with a cement floor and tin roof (v nice :) I hate dirt floors, too much sweeping and maintaining!) It is next door to what used to be a science room, but do to lack of facilities (no beakers or chemicals) they stopped teaching science, and the school's 90 girls all board in the one class room!) There are no desks or text books, not even one for me. Although the library is full of donated books, 4 shelves, each full with 100 plus copies of one book... they are: 1) Train your dog, change your life (a self help book made especially ironic by the fact that Malawians are so poor, they don't keep pets, and most of the students barely speak English), 2) The power: 11 reasons why women gain unhealthy wait, and ways to change them (also ironic, as weight is not an issue in what is the 2nd poorest country in the world..also, feminism is not really a movement here yet, where women can not legally wear pants to school.. nor can i teach in them :( ) 3) A guide for Doctors on changing patient behavior (Malawi doesn't have medical school, like not a single one in the entire country we learned in training... not to mention that these kids are in secondary school. 4) Lonely Planet Adventure guide to hiking India, Pakistan, and the Himalayas (also strange as not a single kid has been farther than 1 hour outside of their village. So, in short, the library is BULL SHIT. Even US text books are silly, since Malawians don't get American English and the curriculum is off... but Malawian text books are super cheap and really good. In the shipping costs alone, companies could just give the money and buy text books... But they need their tax deduction. It is infuriating. I am hoping my family will visit.. i want them to see it. For all its problems, Malawi is stunning. It's tiny but has a million languages (i got lucky, as alot of people speak Chichewa, the national language and what I've been learning, at least to some small extent). it's a really interesting cultural experience. People are obsessed with greetings... if there are 20 people,. you must shake and say how are you to each one... sometimes 10 people will come and go in a line asking you who you are too... I am always tempted on the last person to say, not well, just to see what they will do.
Lilongwe is an odd city. There are huge houses, walled in with 3 gaurds and the tops of the walls covered in wire AND cut glass. The thing is, outside of Malawi, hitch hiking is the safest form of travel. Volunteers here have one of the lowest crime rates against them. Yet in Lilongwe, we aren't even allowed to ride our bikes, as it is not unusual for someone to jump out with a machete and take it. At the same time, it's nice to be staying at the volunteer house with showers. I need to go to session (2 more days of training and then we are DONE), but I wanted to say hi to everyone. I wil get to check the internet again this week I hope, if not, some time in the next month, so a reply would be cool if you all have any questions or anything. Also, feel free to email my mom at dianedeva@aol.com for questions about phone cards (mom, can i get the phoen card info again? All the volunteers want to know it) Thanks alot. KB
ps, I may have forgotton, def did actually, to email some people, so pass it on to anyone you think might like this. AND WRITE ME LETTERS! I LOVE MAIL.

1.02.2008

Boys in Pink

Malawi is probably one of the only places in the world where you can go and see entire villages where no one has ever seen a TV or even looked at pictures in a magazine. This means that my students cannot speak English (despite the fact that it is the language of their secondary education... eek), and means they do not know who Angelina Jolie is (her kids were not Malawian after all; they do know Madonna though), and in its most tangible result, it means that Malawians have no concept of any fashion, not to mention Western fashion. Without magazines or widely read papers, there is no media to tell people what they should or shouldn't wear, and therefore, they wear whatever they can find in bins in their local markets. This means boys wearing hot pink T-shirts that read, "this is my party shirt," or "I am a Princess," and "just do me." I have seen the toughest boy in my school rocking a hot pink, ladies, 1980s (shoulder pads and all) business suit, complete with fat gold buttons.

Malawians seem to long for and want American culture, yet don't understand its context. You see men wearing 50 Cent jerseys in the church choir. My neighbor's wife sits on the front stoop knitting while listening to her radio, which regularly blasts the loudest, dirtiest, foulest gangster rap I have ever heard. Then, of course, there is the Chitenje (wrap skirts and head dresses that everyone wears) that I've seen with Bon Laden and flaming WTC buildings collapsing on them. They don't even know where or what New York is, but it's hard to believe people could be that clueless. Then you remember that it is a 2 hour walk and a few days salary to buy a newspaper (and 1/2 the population is illiterate), so you realize that they really are that cut off from everything you know, and you laugh.