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.
3.24.2008
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
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
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.
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.
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.
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