Making time

I left a small damp towel draped over the wooden arm rail of a chair in our living room overnight, and I feel badly because I think the wetness lifted off the stain. In the shape of a rectangle there's now a white, foggy demarcation; it looks like condensation on a rear view mirror. Emily told me it'll get better and not to worry, so I won't. 

It's Sunday morning, and I'm sitting outside before I go to the church service. This weekend ritual has fit neatly into my time in Malawi: I go for the choir, the music. To be honest, during the previous two services I attended, my thoughts ended up revolving around my grandma. I don't have much more to say about that, but I've appreciated this designated time to let my mind go to that place. I knew before I came to Malawi the importance of reserving time for harder to swallow thoughts, but I didn't know I'd find that time amidst those practicing a religion not my own.* We'll see how I feel after today's. 

Yesterday Emily and I went to Mzuzu for the afternoon. We visited an Internet cafe where, for the first time, I saw a Malawian acknowledge that time exists. Minutes to 12pm, the shopkeeper promptly booted us off the computers: it was closing time. Aside from that, if I haven't mentioned it already, the concept of tracking time or timetables doesn't quite exist here. Or if it does, it's in a loosely abided and rather abstract form. Malawians are gracious, friendly, and do not rush. Just like New Yorkers.* Perhaps this way of life is not compatible with sticking to a clear-cut, clock-watching schedule. Notably, I scarcely encounter watch-worn wrists, and clocks in public places are a rarity. 

Ironically, Malawians are also very fond of programs, as in formally outlining the order of events that will unfold during a particular occasion. As in, we are very much looking forward to your visit to our village on Wednesday. We will make a program. As in, Wednesday will be interesting. In addition, I've been informed that program-outlined events essentially require a guest of honor, who is further expected to give a speech. The Sunday church service program always sets apart time for visitors to come before the congregation and introduce themselves. Ideally, on our first Sunday two weeks back, there was a large group of students visiting from Europe who overflowed the space in front of the pulpit and who we graciously shared the spotlight with. That, and the fact that Emily spoke for both of us, greatly reduced the pressure. 

So I think that's all for now. A look at the week ahead, fast? Every Tuesday the young local ex-pats (their word, not mine) gather for dinner. On a rotating schedule, one person plans the menu and buys the ingredients and then everyone cooks together. Notably, this Tuesday America will not only play in the World Cup, but will coordinate the weekly meal. As for tonight, a much needed trial run. 

Stay tuned,

Rebecca

*I hope I'm not starting to sound too lofty. I'm not actually eating that well. 

*On the record, I've never completely agreed with this assessment of New Yorkers. To be continued...