Dear America,
Crazy, but I've returned- typing now on my old faithful MacBook Air.
After a 2.5 hour flight to Jo-burg, a 5 hour layover, and a 16 (rounded up) hour flight to JFK, Emily and I returned from Malawi yesterday morning. The last handful of days in Africa were jam-packed, thought-provoking, laughter-inducing, and bittersweet; I had things to say along the way but didn't get around to writing them down until today. Also, I rhyme now.
On our final day with Richard and Alfred (I believe it was last Friday), we went to Alfred's home for some final discussion and to see the stretcher made of trees Alfred had had constructed for us. We had heard a lot about this contraption during our focus groups (as a way people unable to walk are transported to the hospital), and we had hoped to see one in the flesh. Slap on the wrist for not anticipating the spectacle that would surround this request: it obviously warranted a program.* At half twelve we will go see the stretcher made of trees, Alfred told us, I just spoke to the village headman.
So after lunch, the four of us left Alfred's home and walked along the tarmac road to a nearby village where we were greeted warmly by said VH. We felt badly for showing up empty handed, a regret amplified instantly when we were led to the brick-walled structure where the program would take place and saw four chairs lined up at the ready. We took our seats, and shortly village members of all ages started to arrive. One by one they greeted us, with bent knees and handshakes, shuffling down the row. The village members, probably 20 or so in all, then took seats on a straw mat laid out in front of us on the floor, and the program began: opening prayer, introductions, stretcher presentation/demo, speech, closing prayer, photographs. For the first time more or less ever, I relieved Emily of her speech-giving duty; proof that I had in fact been in Africa for 2 months.
As usual, the villagers were beautiful, gracious, and gave me pause. Their faces showed wonder as my description of our research project was translated for them into Tumbuka, pride when the stretcher was revealed, and happiness as we took photos and shook more hands before we left. The children were shoeless, with tattered clothes and dust-laden legs, but they had spirit and appeared well-fed.
After, we took our final bicycle taxi rides back to Ekwendeni. We had our final chicken and rice Guest House dinner, and the Northern Malawi sky wrapped us up in darkness one final time.
The next day (Saturday), we rose early to catch our bus to the capital, Lilongwe. I had grown fond of one of the cooks at the guest house, Catherine, and as our taxi pulled away she ran after to give me a small gift (a chitenge). With that, we reeled onto the tarmac road and were off to the bus stop.
Once the wheels started rotating the bus ride went smoothly; it's possible we had lost our pre-purchased bus tickets and thus may or may not have been required to re-buy them to re-claim our seats prior to boarding. This potentially led to a pinch of frustration on our part as we were forced to encounter the inefficiency and nonsensical nature of Malawi procedure. But this is all in the past; we're calm now.
Once in the capital, we spent our final kwacha on food, a magnet, and a red-beaded elephant. Our entire journey came full circle as we spent our final night on Malawi soil in the lodge we had stayed in when we first arrived back in June, and that was that. The next morning we went to the airport.
To end with a bang, on the day of our departure the Malawian president was due in from a trip to the USA so the Lilongwe airport was busting at the seams with excitement*. Red carpets were unrolled on the runway and hundreds of Malawians invited to flank it. We watched from the airport window as the presidential plane landed and the president arrived, and then we watched it again on the local news, projected on the airport's sole TV. If I had the steam to explain this better, you'd appreciate it as all kind of meta.
At the Johannesburg airport, we kept ourselves busy with people watching, window shopping, candy eating, and jumping jacks. And then, in a blink (or seven thousand blinks) of the eye, we boarded the final plane and were home.
Crazy, but I've returned- typing now on my old faithful MacBook Air.
After a 2.5 hour flight to Jo-burg, a 5 hour layover, and a 16 (rounded up) hour flight to JFK, Emily and I returned from Malawi yesterday morning. The last handful of days in Africa were jam-packed, thought-provoking, laughter-inducing, and bittersweet; I had things to say along the way but didn't get around to writing them down until today. Also, I rhyme now.
On our final day with Richard and Alfred (I believe it was last Friday), we went to Alfred's home for some final discussion and to see the stretcher made of trees Alfred had had constructed for us. We had heard a lot about this contraption during our focus groups (as a way people unable to walk are transported to the hospital), and we had hoped to see one in the flesh. Slap on the wrist for not anticipating the spectacle that would surround this request: it obviously warranted a program.* At half twelve we will go see the stretcher made of trees, Alfred told us, I just spoke to the village headman.
So after lunch, the four of us left Alfred's home and walked along the tarmac road to a nearby village where we were greeted warmly by said VH. We felt badly for showing up empty handed, a regret amplified instantly when we were led to the brick-walled structure where the program would take place and saw four chairs lined up at the ready. We took our seats, and shortly village members of all ages started to arrive. One by one they greeted us, with bent knees and handshakes, shuffling down the row. The village members, probably 20 or so in all, then took seats on a straw mat laid out in front of us on the floor, and the program began: opening prayer, introductions, stretcher presentation/demo, speech, closing prayer, photographs. For the first time more or less ever, I relieved Emily of her speech-giving duty; proof that I had in fact been in Africa for 2 months.
 |
| Speech giving |
As usual, the villagers were beautiful, gracious, and gave me pause. Their faces showed wonder as my description of our research project was translated for them into Tumbuka, pride when the stretcher was revealed, and happiness as we took photos and shook more hands before we left. The children were shoeless, with tattered clothes and dust-laden legs, but they had spirit and appeared well-fed.
After, we took our final bicycle taxi rides back to Ekwendeni. We had our final chicken and rice Guest House dinner, and the Northern Malawi sky wrapped us up in darkness one final time.
The next day (Saturday), we rose early to catch our bus to the capital, Lilongwe. I had grown fond of one of the cooks at the guest house, Catherine, and as our taxi pulled away she ran after to give me a small gift (a chitenge). With that, we reeled onto the tarmac road and were off to the bus stop.
Once the wheels started rotating the bus ride went smoothly; it's possible we had lost our pre-purchased bus tickets and thus may or may not have been required to re-buy them to re-claim our seats prior to boarding. This potentially led to a pinch of frustration on our part as we were forced to encounter the inefficiency and nonsensical nature of Malawi procedure. But this is all in the past; we're calm now.
Once in the capital, we spent our final kwacha on food, a magnet, and a red-beaded elephant. Our entire journey came full circle as we spent our final night on Malawi soil in the lodge we had stayed in when we first arrived back in June, and that was that. The next morning we went to the airport.
To end with a bang, on the day of our departure the Malawian president was due in from a trip to the USA so the Lilongwe airport was busting at the seams with excitement*. Red carpets were unrolled on the runway and hundreds of Malawians invited to flank it. We watched from the airport window as the presidential plane landed and the president arrived, and then we watched it again on the local news, projected on the airport's sole TV. If I had the steam to explain this better, you'd appreciate it as all kind of meta.
At the Johannesburg airport, we kept ourselves busy with people watching, window shopping, candy eating, and jumping jacks. And then, in a blink (or seven thousand blinks) of the eye, we boarded the final plane and were home.
I'm borderline jet lagged (re: deliriously tired) so this is a pretty barebones and disappointing last post. I think I'm not totally done writing about my experience; we'll see how I feel after an extended blink.
Thanks for reading,
R
*I'm sorry: could I be more technically savvy?
*Reminds me I haven't highlighted the clothing we had made towards the end of our trip.
*I'm sorry: could I be more technically savvy?
*Reminds me I haven't highlighted the clothing we had made towards the end of our trip.
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