Tikumana, Malawi

Tikumana (see you later), Malawi

 

My heart’s bursting and it’s breaking,
So full of love and full of longing.
It’s in you that I found a home,
And now far too soon I have to go. 

Your smile has expanded my heart,
When you laugh I can’t help but to grin.
It’s much too soon we have to part,
Don’t push me out, all I want is in.

Never is a really long time,
But the world is a really big place.
If we don’t ever meet again,
In my heart you’ll always have a place.

Malawi, you’ve got a piece of me,
And I know now,
That’s how it’ll forever be.

Do We Stay or Do We Go?

An update from ‘The Heart is Boiling’

It was 15 days since I came once again to Zambia and finally, I was on my way back to Malawi. Those 15 days were spent working on documentation and wondering if I would be returning to Malawi before flying home to Canada. The uncertainty was situated around the still tense political situation in Malawi. Last time I wrote to you about the tension, I was still in Zambia, but have since come to, and gone again from, Malawi.

I made it back into Malawi around the first of August and spent a couple of days in Lilongwe before heading back out to Mkwinda, the village I abruptly left after the first eruption of protests. In Mkwinda, I attempted to contact an agrodealer in the region who I wanted to visit once more and spent time strengthening relationships with, and saying better goodbyes to, friends I left suddenly before. My time here was again cut short, but with more notice this time around. Due to threatened military protests on August 12th and a confirmation that the president had yet to address the concerns of the petition, meaning the second round of civilian protests planned for August 17th or 18th was likely to happen, EWB decided that we would travel to Zambia on August 10th and stay just across the border in Chipata in order to avoid the protests.

As the twelfth approached, we were in contact with our Malawian friends and checking internet news sites every morning, anxious to know what was happening across the border. But the twelfth passed just as any other day. After the twelfth came and went, we began the anxious texts and internet checks again, now in anticipation of civilian demonstrations on the 18th, thinking that the likelihood of these to occur was greater. But again, no demonstrations were held. An injunction against the protests had gone through, and according to Malawian friends, the police had made it very clear that anyone who was on the streets the day of 18th was considered to be a part of the demonstrations and would be treated as such. So the day in Lilongwe passed, with exceptionally quiet streets.

However, this is not to say that the lack of demonstrations made for complete peace in the country. A couple of days after the 18th, we heard that the military had reacted to some incidents (the nature of which I don’t know) at Chancellor College in Zomba, in the north of Malawi, with tear gas and open fire. Just today, talking to my friend who has a cousin at Chancellor, I learned that the open fire resulted in some deaths. Although the streets that day were silent against the rights of civilians, it seems that the students of Chancellor were not, and sadly, some paid with their lives.

Because things remained calm after the 18th, EWB was set to allow us to return to Malawi that weekend when we heard the president had dissolved his parliament, inserting yet another wave of uncertainty into the situation. Though the dissolved parliament caused us concern regarding Malawi’s political stability, the country has thus far remained calm and safe, allowing us to return to catch our flight home on the 27th, and in my case, to also present to the NGO I have been working with this summer the day before our flight.

As of now, it is again said that the president has been given a month to respond to the petition. Further protests are threatened for around the 20th of September should concerns remain unaddressed. These will no longer affect me physically, as in about three hours I will be back home in Canada, but my heart and my mind will be with those in Malawi, hoping for peaceful change in the Warm Heart of Africa.

Pensieve

Nearing the end of my time here in Malawi, my mind has become restless thinking about the impact and importance, or lack thereof, of my summer placement. So, in the spirit of the (still somewhat recent) release of the final Harry Potter movie, I am sharing with you a brief look into my pensieve.

First, a short recap of my goal this summer: to work in the process of improving the distribution network for rural agrodealers. The current method for improvement is to support successful agrodealers to become wholesale input suppliers. My job, more specifically, is to research just how this can be accomplished; my side job, to research if this being accomplished will bring a benefit to the small-holder farmer. So, here are a couple of silvery, swarming thoughts that have been drifting in my pensieve the last few days:

• We may be spending time, money, and energy on a method to help the small-holder-farmer that is not the best method. But then again, is it ever possible to know what’s best – especially when we are considering impacts that may be occurring many years into the future? And of course, there is the quote that my friend reminded me of a couple of months ago, “don’t let best get in the way of better.” I think this statement holds an important message, but then again, if best is possible and within reach, perhaps we should be cautious not to settle for better.
• If successful distribution agrodealers are developing on their own, why are we working to develop them? Should we be working in an area that needs us more? And by ‘needs us more,’ I mean one that is not occurring on its own. On the other hand, if the market for such a business has been naturally recognized, maybe this means that this is an area where it makes more sense for us to work in – acting as catalysts, driving forward a promising industry. Perhaps a naturally occurring development is more likely to be sustainable in its environment and to suit the needs of the people from whom it was derived. Once recognizing the potential for the development of high capacity distribution agrodealers to benefit the small-holder-farmer, we can choose to catalyze this process such that the benefits more rapidly reach the small-holder-farmer.
• And of course, the biggest question of them all, spanning far beyond my placement – should I even be here, should we, meaning all development workers even be here? What can I really offer this nation? Yes, it’s true that Canada, as a country, is more advanced than Malawi, but does sending young, inexperienced, and by some standards, uneducated, citizens to developing nations assert the implication that the people of Canada are similarly more advanced? I don’t believe it’s accurate to say Canadians are more advanced than Malawians, rather, I think it’s that the technologically advanced circumstances within which we live has granted us the luxury of time and our social construct  that of opportunity. For example, Canadian students are able to spend a summer volunteering and still afford to return to school in the fall because of accessible loan services offered by the government. So, I did not spend my summer researching agrodealers in Malawi because no one Malawian was capable of the task. However, I think it’s possible that my work in Malawi was still well-delegated; possible that it was a beneficial task to accomplish and that I was the most available human resource. Not to be mistaken, there are many Malawians who work in the development sector, driving change in their own nation, but maybe there are an insufficient number of people who can afford to focus outside of building their own career and feeding their own family to meet the demand of human resources needed in the development sector of Malawi. And then again, maybe the number is sufficient. But even if so, I think there is value to outside opinions and differing experiences in most circumstances, thereby implying value in the foreign development worker.

As you may have noticed, the thoughts in my pensieve are rather inconclusive at the moment and perhaps a tangled ball of yarn would have been a more appropriate analogy, but this overwhelmed, question-filled headspace is nonetheless an exciting place to be.

Amusing Anecdotes 2.0

     1. Baboons

Walking along the trails at Victoria Falls, we came across a baboon munching on some grass on the side of the path. My friend pulled out her camera and started taking pictures, but then the baboon turned his back on us. Not wanting all pictures of his pink and blue bottom, I called to the baboon.

                “Hey, cutie.”

He turned and looked, then went back to eating the grass.

                “Do it again!” Said my friend, wanting more pictures where he was looking at the camera.

                “Hey, cutie!” I called again.

He didn’t look this time, so we kept talking to the him, hoping he would turn around for the picture. Instead, he barred his teeth and leapt forward towards us. Frightened, we jumped back, avoiding his trajectory. The baboon settled on the other side of the path, and with wobbly legs, we continued on our way. Lesson almost learned – respect and stay clear of the baboons.

 

     2. More Baboons

Sitting at a picnic table just outside a small shop in the lined up craft market of Victoria Falls, my two friends and I were enjoying lunch when I spotted a baboon casually making his way towards us. Thinking that if he was brave enough to approach us fully, it would be for the sandwich in my hand, so I constructed a quick exit strategy in my head – if baboon comes at you, throw sandwich and run in opposite direction. What I didn’t expect was that the baboon had his eye on our bags, where they have apparently learned that many good things can be hidden. To my right, sitting on the table in front of my friend, we had a yellow, plastic grocery bag with all of our cameras and a block of cheese in it – the important things that we didn’t want getting wet from the falls.

The baboon stealthily crept around the table and suddenly he was grabbing for one handle of the plastic bag. My friend reacted and snagged the other side of the bag. My friend and I both jumped up, standing but still trapped in the bench of the picnic table. I tried to escape out the side of the table, but wasn’t fast enough to step over the cross-bars. As my friend fought a tug-of-war with the baboon over our bag she simultaneously moved quickly and forcefully away from the baboon towards me, forcing my upper half further than my trapped legs were able to go. Gravity took over and I found myself fallen on the gravel beside the table, sandwich remaining in hand, fresh blood on my shorts, still hoping throwing my sandwich would be sufficient protection if the baboon decided to attack while I was on the ground. Quickly getting to my feet, I saw the baboon running away towards the shop with our cheese in his hand. Our cameras were sprawled on the ground next to the destroyed plastic bag that my friend and the baboon tore in half during the mugging.

Lesson now completely learned.

 

     3. Shock!

In the mornings, I heat my bath water in a big metal pot on top of a hot plate plugged into the wall. The wire of the hotplate is a little worn, held together with medical tape in a few sections. One morning, I was impatient to start my day and although the water in the pot didn’t yet have swirling steam rising above it, I hoped that it was warm enough for a bath so I could get going; and what better way to check the warmth of the water than to test it? I casually dipped my fingers into the pot and instantly felt the sensation of pins and needles travel from my fingertips up my arm. I instinctively pulled my hand back from the pot. Staring at the pot for a moment and then looking around the room, I realized, I’ve just been electrocuted by my bath water.

Two days later, my bath water was again on the hot plate, this time clearly ready as it had steam rushing off the surface of the water. I stood near the pot with my brother sitting beside me, just waiting as my host mom cleaned out the bathing tub for me to dump the water into. My hands were freezing, so I hovered them over the water to warm up in the steam. As I lowered my hands close to the water, where the steam was warmest, my brother made an anxious hand gesture.

                “Ahh, ah aahhh,” He said.

I looked at him quizzically.

                “Shock!” he exclaimed, although it sounded more like “Schook!” with his Malawian accent.

I smiled, “Ooh, yes. But no, no, I’m just warming my hands!” I explain. Where were you two days ago, I thought to myself.

 

     4. Feel the Love

I walk into the compound of my friend and find only his brother at home; as I turn to leave and look for him elsewhere, his brother, Killy, stops me.

                “I’ll come escort you, but first you have to come say hi to my friends!”

I head over to where they’re playing a popular Malawian board game, bao, and have a short chat with the guys. As I’m heading out of the compound with Killy, one of the men hollers after me.

                “I love Canadians!”

                Smiling, I half turn around as I’m walking, “And I love Malawians!”

 

     5. 2.8 and Your Soul

The craft market in Lilongwe is full of charismatic, talkative young men selling jewelry, wooden and stone carvings, hand sewn bags, and a ton more interesting items. Today, I have come on a mission though and won’t be distracted by the many persuasive vendors – I want a bao board. Bao is a popular game here in Malawi involving a carved wooden playing surface (the board) and seeds that are used as playing pieces. I spot bao boards at a vendor near the edge of the market and head in his direction, preparing myself for a bargaining match.

I start at 1.5 – the price that I’ve been told you can get bao boards for further north in Mzuzu.

                “Ah, but with that price, you are killing me,” replies the vendor named Chicken Wings.

                “What do you think is a good price then?” I ask.

                “4.5, and I am giving you a deal, because you are Malawian you see, and you are helping our country – usually I would charge 6 or 7.”

                 “Ah, but 4.5 is way too high, I can get them for 1.5 in Mzuzu. I can come up to 1.7.” I know I’ll have to pay more than in Mzuzu, but don’t want to give too much too quickly.

                “You are killing me!” Chicken Wing exclaims, “you will come back, and you will not find me here – I will have starved! Four, give me four, sister.”

                “Okay, 2.”

                “Ah sister, no, three, and that is very cheap.”

                “Two point five,” I am determined to bring the price down.

                “Two point five? I cannot manage, give me 3.”

                “2.8 then, I want less than 3.”

                “Okay, 2.8 and your heart – you will give me your heart?”

                “Ah, but Chicken Wings, Malawi already has my heart.”

                “Okay, but that is a country, not me, I want your heart,” Chicken Wings argues.

                “Well, you are a part of this country, so you have a piece.”

                “Okay, then your soul as well. You will give me your soul?”

                “Hmm, okay, 2.8 and my soul? So how exactly does this transition take place?”

Not sure if I’ve actually given my soul away for a deal, I then agree to play a game with Chicken Wings after buying the board for 2.8.

As I took his last seed, winning the game, Chicken Wings looked across at me.

               “Ah, now you have taken my soul,” he said with a grin.

                And as I walked away, he called after me “Take good care of my soul, and feed it nsima!”