A New Start

Hello everyone! This was supposed to go up last week when I was passing through Lilongwe on Easter break, but alas, I loaded everything on my flash drive.. and left it at home. So, a bit late, but here it is!

My house is now a fortress, complete with laser beams and an alligator moat. Okay, not really, but they did lay broken glass on top of all the low-sitting walls and fill in all of the ventilation gaps, effectively sealing me off from the world, haha. My guard, Mr. Mwafulirwa, seems like a great guy, and he speaks Chitumbuka slower than most so I can get in some good practice using the local language. In true guard form, Mr. Mwafulirwa likes to crouch and hide in the bushes, which is fantastic until he jumps out with a panga knife as I’m making my groggy morning trip to the chim. Not the first thing I want to see in the morning, but to be fair, he probably wasn’t so happy to run into the grumpy mzungu either (mzungu = white man/foreigner, a name PCVs hear quite a lot). The one who was breaking into my house is a young man by the name of Yamikani (ironically, the name means “give respect”), and as of now, he is still being held in a small cell in the Chilumba police station (wearing the same clothes as he was arrested in 5 weeks ago, and smelling more like urine than urine itself). My headmaster, deputy, and I spent waaay too many days at the station or the court, but as ridiculous and painful as some of those experiences were, they were also interesting, and of course, worth it. I was first introduced to Yamikani at the station when an officer brought a man into a 6x6 room with me, sat him down next to me, and told me to greet him. So in my best Chitumbuka and my most polite voice, I did, and the officer followed with “this is the man who threatened to kill you.” Tactful. Totally made me lose all of my street cred, sheesh. If I had been WARNED, I could have put on my best GANGSTA face, man! Unfortunately, this was only the beginning of my first, and hopefully only, ludicrous and amazing experience with the Malawian law. A few days later, I was requested to return. “Okay, to the station, or the court?” (They are in totally different towns, maybe 20 minutes drive apart.) “Ummm, I’m not sure… but come tomorrow.” Right, course, I’ll get right on that. So, after consulting the teachers here, I decided to go to the station (the closer of the two) because surely if I needed to go to the court with them, they’d take me, right? Well, the short answer is yes. The long answer is in the back of a truck, shoved in with six handcuffed criminals, including the man who threatened my life. This after three hours of sitting at the station, playing snake on my phone. And when I refused to ride this way, they made fun of me (really?!) and put me in between two officers in the front of the truck who relentlessly harassed me the whole way there (nope, sorry, you are not welcome to come and sleep in my house with me). Things didn’t get better at the courthouse, though by this point, at least I was laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. I’ll spare you all many of the details, but let’s just say the highlight was when I had to take the witness stand and be cross-examined by Yamikani himself (nope, no lawyers for criminals). Regardless, he admitted to almost everything, and the reason he is still being held is because his sentence is going to be long enough that it has to be issued by the high court. So, that’s the story of Yamikani. He did tell the whole court that my cake was very tasty, so you know, small victories. I also love that the quality of my cake was a detail that the prosecutor demanded be part of the discussion – it was obviously a crucial element in all of this.

Aside from all that business, things at site are going very well. I don’t think teaching is my life calling, but I adore my Form 2s and 4s (on most days, haha) and I am genuinely happy here, which is very exciting and very relieving. My “office” is the library as I am one of the two school librarians, and Mr. Nyasulu, the deputy headmaster and other librarian, is both my best friend and my rock here in Fulirwa. When we’re not teaching, you can find us watching Lost, rocking out to a mélange of American and African music, dancing ridiculously (think chicken dance), or talking about this, that, and everything in our office/second home. Oh, and laughing. All day, every day. He is intelligent and motivated and is already proving to be my co-conspirator on many brain child projects we have in the works, and when I come home many years and months from now, I will be bringing him, his wife, and his two adorable children with me. For real. The fact that we’re working on getting him into an American university makes this statement all the more true, but even if that weren’t in the works, I think I would have to pack them in my carry-ons and hope that Malawi doesn’t have x-ray machines at security. In the meantime, we’ll be here – he’ll be laughing at me for crying over the onions and the smoke as he tries to teach me to cook, and I’ll be introducing him to such amazing cultural tidbits as mac ‘n cheese and Yahtzee. It’s everything you could ask for in a home.

Speaking of homes and families, I have a son! Not ACTUALLY – don’t panic – but one of my best Form 4s, Peter, asked if I could take him as such (ie. I help him with school fees and he helps me with various things in labor-intensive everyday life). He’s very interested in agriculture, so I decided to have him start a garden for me, and now I have some beautiful tomato plants sprouting right outside my door! He also draws water for me a few times a week, which is a HUGE help. Many months ago Peter had me over at his home for a meal with his seemingly-happy family, but I came back this term to learn that his father was not feeding him or his brothers and was forcing them to sleep outside in a shed. When I ate with Peter, I couldn’t believe how much food he consumed. I actually joked with the teachers here about it. His mother came in with two ENORMOUS patties of nsima for us – each maybe 9 inches in diameter and 3 inches thick – and after I cut off a small, palm-sized piece for myself, Peter TOOK DOWN the rest of the plate. It was INSANE. I kept asking him where he was putting it all – he is a tiny boy, 17 years old though maybe the size of a skinny 13-year old. But now it makes sense, as that may have been the only meal he had eaten in days. So as of now, I’m supporting his school, and he is living (and eating) at Mr. Nyasulu’s. He is very dedicated, hard-working, and sweet, and I love having him around. How lucky am I – my Malawian family lives right next door!

Alright, as always, there is so much more to be said, but I’ll leave it for another day. There are many things in the works over here, but I want to let things develop as they will a bit more before I write them up. In the meantime, just keep prayin’! I miss you all and love you, as always. I'll be popping through the headquarters next week for some meetings so I'll try to post some pictures then - I know they are infinitely more interesting than words =)

P.S. Shout out to Margaret Watkins the first - please always comment on my blog, I LOVE it. I'm so jealous Meg gets to go home and see her mom soon! I'm sure you don't need me to tell you this, but make sure you're house is fully stocked with CHEESE and CHOCOLATE (along with all the love that is already there)!