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.
