Final days, is this even possible?

So I guess this may be my last blog in Africa....nah I'll do one before I fly out but as we only have 38 days left in this spectacular place Em and I have decided to stay up the mountain until the end of exams. So no internet until the last two weeks. When my brother comes to Malawi!! :D Every night we throw eachother that look from across the candlelit room "how can we leave this place?"...the thought of saying goodbye is unthinkable, the fact that many of the faces we have grown to love and care for here will no longer be a few metres down the track, the children who have looked up at us in anticipation and eagerness to learn won't be hearing our funny English any more or the volunteers which we have shared and seen so much with won't be squished into a minibus beside us every weekend. It's amazing, what this place has done to us after six months. I'll never understand it but the connection is the strongest I have ever experienced, the effect that Malawi, that Africa has had on us is profound and hopefully unforgettable. Our thoughts, actions, ideas, language. We now speak in a ridiculous ChiTumbucka/English mix: the other day we watched the news in a restaurant and the dude was speaking a million miles a minute! We can no longer understand our own language!! And so the last few weeks are dawning on us in a flurry of goodbyes, hugs that shouldn't have to end and preparing our kids for their end of year exams. It's revision and assessment now, I hardly have any time to think about seeing their faces for the last time ie: I don't want to.

 

It's the 24th of June as I type this on my tablet, the screen has cracked in two places, I don't know how much life it has left in it but it's one sturdy little guy. I'm stuck at the bottom of the mountain on my own right now. Will & Toby are in Lilongwe waiting for Toby's rents to arrive (their teaching has come to an end and they have said goodbye to Livingstonia) and Emma is in Mzuzu sorting out some stuff. I'm staying in the African Teacher's lodge, a rasta sanctuary with a small restaurant and a lovely owner with a glazed look in his eyes and a full head of wonderful dreadlocks. My room is about half the size of a shipping container, maybe the size of a bathroom. My bed is clean and has a net, the ceiling is plastered in black plastic and bottle caps held on with nails. There are bars on the window and a friendly looking lizard is crawling across the wall. I can hear the reggae, something that sounds like 'stop the dettol' but I reckon it's 'stop the death toll'..hopefully. I don't think the rastas cared much for disinfecting toilets. My candle is flickering like mad and the trucks that speed across the main road outside override the music now and again. Carrying everything from tobacco to oil from Cairo to Capetown, Nairobi to Blantyre. It's pitch black outside and as usual the sound of drunkards and crickets add to the music of the night. I feel safe in my mosquito net, full of rice and beans. Tomorrow is my 19th Birthday and I'm thinking about life. Your background really does determine so much. The kind of person you are, the person you will become. Elvie and I were talking about this on the bus today, of how much of a culture shock it was for us not only when it came to Malawians but to eachother. We have Emma and Toby who grew up on big farms and went to boarding school, Will and Ruby who are city slickers, Grace who lives on an island with a population of 600. Your cultural and personal background defines so much of who you are.I And so I was pondering on the fact that many people in Malawi and especially in this area are drunkards, unemployed and altogether a bit dodgy. Mainly men, as women are very much confined to the job of housewife and market seller. But you know what? If I had spent my whole life watching the huge trucks laden with goods from foreign places destined never to reach my home, if overlanders full of  azungus flew past and didn't stop to buy  my bananas that my family needed me to sell, if tourists came and went in their 4x4s and fancy hiking boots to tackle the Gorodi that I walk barefoot with a sack of maize balanced on my head and if I sat watching a world that I would never be apart of blur pass me everyday, my outlook on things woud be very different. If the president of my country rolled around in Land Cruisers and went on four holidays a year, maybe I too would be a drunkard or a thief. Not to say that everyone here is such, I'm just putting my thoughts down...trying to understand. I suppose the same goes for us at home. All we've ever known is choice. We have the services available to us. We live in a developed country. And of course we have our fair share of drunkards and thieves so that's universal I guess.

 

 Honestly it is just unbelievable: the difference.

 

  The sheer volume of facilities we have access to, the quality of our services towers above what I have seen here. It scares me. How a child in primary school will never have an art class where they learn how to use colours and let their imagination run wild, then bring it home to your mom and have it hung on the wall. Few kids here are encouraged and given the chance to use their imaginations. One thing that we are so happy to have done was to share the project of painting Mtende Nursery School with the local kids. Along with Ben and Rachael, we decided that we didn't want it to be another 'donated by the West' project. There are too many buildings, centres and shops that have been constructed with aid from the West, with great big signs hung over them emblazoned with logos and names of those who may not have even helped to build said place but gave the money to do so. And so if nearly every monument, every place of worship that I passed reminded me that my country was unable to provide these services themselves and that there are other people in the world who make enough money in a day to buy my whole township, I too would feel hard done by and just...small. Another big problem with aid that we have found. Yes, having these places is fantastic, yes they may not have come to fruition without donors but will pride ever fill the hearts of these people after seeing their efforts praised? Will they get the chance to paint a bird on a white wall and know that it brightened a child's day? Self-confidence and self-worth is not common here. You are often told that you are a failure, admonished for small mistakes and pitted against others who naturally excel in school, work or domestic tasks. Rarely will a child be told that they have potential, encouraged by their parents to seek greater things or praised for a success when it will pale in comparison to the work of others. It makes me want to cry, honestly I cannot believe the hardship that these people face daily even at the hands of those who are supposed to love them. If it wasn't for the steadfast encouragement and unwavering support given to me by my parents growing up I would not be in Africa, I would not be sharing these experiences with you. That love and hope shaped me. My background shaped me. Therefore if I had experienced the difficulty faced by this community and many others in Malawi and similiar third world countries, I too could be thieving, begging and running away. How else could I handle the life that had been laid down before me?

 

  (Sidenote, I can currently hear Westife playing from the club across the road. I think it's 'A Little Prayer' how I have missed them <3)

 

  And from these difficulties also rise awe-inspiring children and adults who face their hardship with optimism and determination. Still the kids shout and play from 6am outside the school despite the hunger in their bellies and the ragged clothes on their bodies. Well what else can they do? Their happiness radiates, it spreads to everyone they meet. Everyone willing to accept it, that is! Em and I have spent many evenings singing, dancing, whistling, chattering and making animal noises with these children in an effort to make them feel special, to tell them that they are not stupid and that they have potential. Yesterday I sent a boy in my class, Lumbani, to the office for stomoing out of my class in an unexpected rage. He had been talking and disrupting others throughout the whole class, I had had enough. Never did I anticipate that Mr.Saika would slap him across the forehead, call him a stupid failure and admonish him for not being humble as he is an orphan. I ran out of the class shocked and horrified. Lumbani hung his head in shame, not even shedding a tear. I knelt in front of him, looking into him eyes and told him that he was not stupid, that he was a good student and would do great things. A flicker of a smile came but he had been shamed in his community, he was already an orphan and now he was a failure. I dispersed the crowd of kids that had gathered and focused on Lumbani, explaining to him what he had done and how he could improve. Mr.Saika seemed shocked at himself but held together, he is a headteacher with forty years experience, this is how he has been doing things for years. Mr.Saika is a wonderful, generous man who strives to educate children in a community that has long struggled with poverty and development. He is a good man but a man who has been set in his ways. It was not my place to challenge his authority, his actions and so I did what I could do, I encouraged Lumbani instead of further punishing him, I did what I felt was right. No child deserves such treatment but here, it is sadly the norm. I hope that today Lumbani will attend class and will perhaps be the good student that he has the potential to be or the class clown which is expected of him. What will it be?

 

  

  My birthday was a great day. We made ut up the Gorodi by noon, yeeeow! Met with Mr.Saika and his family then went to the Mushroom Farm which is an awesome lodge near to where we now live (more on that later....). We had actual burritos, banana cake and cocktails: such a treat! I got phonecalls and texts from all the home and here crew. A call from Linda made me realise that my best friend and I are just too matched. Together we really could talk the hind legs off a donkey :D it was fabulous to once again talk with someone who shared that passion with me. I miss her so! Mom let me in on the scandal in Ireland, made me a little apprehensive about returning to it all I'm gonna admit! Gracie is in Tanzania doing volunteer work with UCDOV and now that I have her number, we have been texting about everything Africa and how we never want to leave and blahblahblah! Emma and I had a silent disco at the house, our aux cord is missing!! And Vero made me a ginger cake that said 'Jane' :P We ended the night by watching the Incredible's on Emma's laptop. A wonderful birthday in Africa with the best placement partner ever who shouted me lunch and gave me a messed up looking elephant because she knows how much I like strange looking animals :L btw, the no eared goat is the cutest animal ever, I don't care what Emma says!

  I left off our adventures in Lilongwe, we had said the first of our goodbyes. Next was a trip to Kasungu for Australian Walt's 19th in him and Sam's newly constructed volunteer house. Sam and Walt have spent something like one million kwacha on building this house beside the current one which had been falling apart and was voted among us as the worst living conditions out of Lattitude Malawi. Keen to ensure that volunteers do come to work and always have a place to stay at Mbona Cera, they had one heck of a house constructed.They're currently trying to ensure that the headmaster doesn't move in when they leave as it's such a nice house :P We partied it up with a bonfire, beer pong (Australian's are obsessed! but ha my first time and I beat em three out of my first four shots...I have a surprisingly good aim!), chibuku which is a beer drunk by Malawians out of what looks like a milk carton. It is disgusting. It costs 150 kwacha a litre...dirt cheap but eesh, it is vile. I nearly got sick from one cup. After lots of dancing , eating and cake cutting not to mention Walt trying to jump over the fire for some reason...twice, we fell asleep on a very sticky chibuku and fanta laden floor. Spent some lovely (as usual) time at Chimbowe where Uk Mike and NZ Mike are placed, the place I fell in love with after the holiday and then it was back to Mantchewe to continue our work. In that week we reached the five month mark and celebrated the start of the LC in Ireland by moving out of Lukwe and into the Primary school. Will and Toby kept us company for the evening, with such a drafty, big house we certainly needed it! We still had no windows so we endured a very cold night on the floor in layers of clothes and our sleeping bags. Luckily our Country Manager Matt had two spare mattresses in Livingstonia so it was just a matter of going up and getting em!

   Kande Beach was our next hit up for Will and Elvie’s birthday. We played volleyball on the beach, ate a birthday cake fit for a wedding, met so many azungus we realized that there were more white people in the world than us and swam and swam and swam. (: A lovely woman Toby had met on the bus to Mzuzu had told us that she worked in a hostel for the visually impaired for Nkhata Bay and she was keen for us to visit. She organized the bus from Kande and everything! It was amazing. This centre houses the visually impaired and albinos in the area who cannot go to an ordinary school. Albinos have a tough time in Malawi. They always have to be covered with a hat and thick cloth like denim to prevent the sun from burning their sensitive skin. And because suncream in so rare and expensive in Malawi, they have to endure painful days outside. Not to mention when they get confused as azungus and have everyone shouting at them. We learned how the brail machine worked, how this woman trekked it between Mzuzu and Nkhata Bay every week so she could teach these kids. and then the kids! They were just incredible.

 So I guess you ought to know now that Emma and I no longer live and work at Lukwe.Eco Camp. Pretty much we got back Lilongwe to a letter from our host Lieza who had just left for South Africa to say that she was getting another volunteer and needed to accomodate him by June 6th. She was giving us about 9 days to pack up our lukwe life. Having to leave Veronica, Mphatso, Kettie and Prince was going to be so painful especially as we had just cracked the shy barrier and were now considered children of Vero and sisters to the kids. And then there was Kili and Bali (the lukwe dogs) to say goodbye to and all of the lovely staff: Alex, Edward, Thoku, Vushani, Corrida. The thought was too much to bear but it had to be done. When we arrived at Lukwe back in January, Lieza had expected us to be predominantly Lukwe volunteers with a hint of teaching at the primary school. Due to our big involvement in Mtende, we had not left enough time for Lukwe and Lieza and thus she had begun to look elsewhere. Emma and I did not come to Malawi to work for a private enterprise, nor did we want to spend our gap year in Africa serving tourists and being removed from the community in a lodge. Mr.Saika, his kindness and compassion shining through yet again, after discussing with the school board and his family, decided that Emma and I should move into the brand new Primary house on the school grounds. On the 4^th of June Emma and I packed up our little mud hut with Will and Toby and got set for a new kind of experience, one with no family across the road, using bricks as a fire stand and living as just the two of us. It took a while to get used to but now it is simply wonderful. The kids gather around our porch in the evenings, we have

 

So this blog couldn't post when I connected my tablet to a computer in Livingstonia 'cause I think I've dropped this gadget a few too many times but until I can upload it, I'll just continue. This began on around June 20th and goes until the  10th July or so, I apologise for the confusion. Hooray, an extra long blog! I never do them :P Hilarious update, we were painting in the nursery today (July 3rd) and perhaps the funniest moment of my life occurred. There I was happily painting some branches on my Mtende tree when I heard a yelp of surprise behind me. Emma, the genius that she is put the tubs of yellow and pink paint on the unsteady cupboard and turned around, sensing that the paint was about to fall she whipped back around to catch it and the tub went splat right down her front. I jumped off my chair to see her turned towards me with a look of shock and utter confusion on her face. Her feet were covered in yellow and the front of her tshirt and skirt had been severly brightened. Yellow and pink splashes decorated the new cupboards and even our bags. The sight was just too much to bear. I burst into uncontrollable laughter in between utterances of 'awwwwh sorry Em' but I could hardly contain myself. After Peter had wiped what yellow we could salvage off her feet and the floor and after plenty of photos by your's truly she tramped off up the road to the house to get cleaned off amid stares and plenty of 'ohhhh sorry,sorry,sorry,sorry' from everybody in the village; What was that crazy mzungu up to now!?

  Before and after class lately we've been hanging out with a few of the Standard five and six kids on our front porch listening to African tunes and drawing pictures. Today they all drew us one each. This stuff should be making us happy not depressed but we can't help it!! How can we leave the coolest kids ever!??

 

 Sitting on our beds tonight with only 11days left in our new home and we've finally realised how fast six months flew by. Where did it all go? And now that it's so close to the end I'm remembering all of the little things that have made this jouney so special. Like seeing Will and Toby every Monday and Wednesday, they would bring us bread and onions from Livingstonia and we'd do nursery with the crazy kids or paint and end up splattering eachother in it. They would moan at us for not coming to Livingstonia more often and we would moan that they are so lucky to be living there. How every morning and evening on our daily walk through Mantchewe the local children will always run up to us often half naked screaming our names to hold our hands and sing songs with us all the way home. How the mountain has been the biggest pain and would have us late or exhausted every Friday and bartering with every vehicle owner on a Sunday afternoon. That we call Peter's mother Eleysia 'Mama' and we are her sons and daughters, her home is our home, she is the best cook here and she has taught us everything she knows. There has been so much drama among the 28 of us from romances to accidents that every weekend seemed to be filled with a new scandal, we honestly could have been a reality tv show. We all just hit it off from the beginning and have only grown closer in the last six months sharing everything from being at the incredible Vic Falls together to horrific transport and escaping from dogs. We have shared the adventure of a lifetime and I don't think we will ever forget eachother.

 

   One thing I really am looking forward to at home is the chocolate. We are blessed with our Cadbury. In Malawi, Australia, New Zealand; any country that actually gets hot they put anti-melting preservatives in the chocolate which all in all makes it inferior to our stuff. It's just not the same so appreciate the chocolate lads, it's one of a kind.

 

   So this blog has certainly been all over the place, pepanie pepanie. Needed to get something to you all! Feeling all over the place. Will and Toby are gone for good, can’t believe it. We’ll be gone in nine days…. WHHHAH!!?? Peace, love & emotional distress, Jen xo