Asake Faith

A Sake (Mother of) Faith is my neighbour, about my age with one son called Faith. She is one of the people that I will miss the most – but she doesn’t know it. Her English is minimal and my Chichewa is nill but I like being with her every night. We don’t talk, we don’t even sit that close – we’re both outside sitting in front our own charcoal stove, cooking our own nsima under the stars.
The relationship started soon after I moved in because of my inability to cook or even start the fire for that matter. Every night she’d watch me struggle, from her side of the court yard, as I try to light my charcoal (which she makes herself and sells) – by the third match she’d be over with some of her already glowing charcoal or a piece of a plastic from a broken bucket (stinky, but fantastic and garbage is burned anyways~). I’d eventually get my water boiling and start adding maize flour – still not really knowing the amounts or time for boiling, Asake Faith would come back over. She would stir and try to explain to what needed to happen next. This process involved me pointing at things and using the following vocabulary: eh (yes), eyi, (no), more, base (stop) and zikomo (thank you).
Now I can light my own charcoal fire (paraffin is my saviour) and know how to cook nsima. But we still hang out: peeling peas or ground nuts (peanuts), cooking a fish together, doing laundry or just sitting while I work on a report.

I miss her already…

*Sorry I don’t have a picture of her yet – she’s a little shy…This has Usta on the right: my landlord’s daughter and Susana on the left: Asake Faith’s little sister who lives here too (they are from Lilongwe district and are here because of the husbands work). Every night all the kids are outside singing and dancing with each other and playing school, so cute

Jossum

“Janah!”
That’s Jossum greeting me. Everyday after work I stop by Sofie’s shop to see my friend – every time he greets me with the same enthusiasm and his wide smile. We chat a little about the day, but then I continue on my journey home to prepare dinner. I return when it is dark – after my dinner and my washing ~ 7 pm.

“Janah!”
My few Chichewa versus are spattered out and Jossum tries to teach me a new word.
“Do you want to play shop?” Jossum asks
“Yes!”
Jossum crawls out of the shop through the half door and I enter the same way. Now I am shop keeper – keeper of the soap, salt, eggs, packages of dried fish, salt, sugar, matches, candles, tea and few other random items – supper glue. The radio plays quietly in the back round and it’s so dark outside that I can only make out Jossum’s silhouette eating the banana I brought him. He starts talking – talking in his broken, but now more confident English – he shares his vision, his wishes: to go to college, to get a degree, to get a job, to not live like this anymore and how this job will not get him there.

“Fanta"

"40 Kwacha," I reply
It's Moose Man, he wants a Fanta – I call him Moose Man because he always wears the same shirt with a moose on it and I don’t know know his name – yesterday he asked me to buy him a Fanta. Today he is asking me to sleep with him. He is drunk. He leaves.

Jossum starts talking again.
“People see you – ‘ah I want to talk to that girl – but how? How? I do not speak good English.’
So they do not know what to say and they are too shy. What comes out is ‘give me money’ or like what ‘Moose Man’ said. But they are just joking, they just want to talk, they just want to be your friend.”

8 pm comes and it’s time to close the shop. I return home to write in my journal, read and sleep. Jossum returns to Sophie’s house – he is a house boy and his days work is not finished:

- He washes the dished from their dinner (if the water is on) and washes their shoes
- He eats dinner, maybe watches a little TV with the family, but then retires to him room to study
- He wakes up early, ~ 5:30 am, to start mopping and preparing food
- Leaves for Secondary school, Form 3 (grade 11) ~ 7:15 am
- Returns at 2 – eats lunch
- Goes to the market to pick up things for Sophie’s Shop
- Crawls through the half door in the shop and turns on the radio – Sophie has gone to a different market to sell her bail of clothes from Village Des Valleurs

“Janah!”
I’m walking home from work.

Little Bibliography:

Jossum is from a small village in Ntchisi district and is living here so he can attend school. His father past away when he was very young, leaving his mother to raise 5 children. He is third born and the only one to have gone this far with education. Primary school is free (Standard 1 through 8), but Secondary is not (Form 1 through 4). So Jossum had to work very hard to get himself through the first two years. Moulding bricks, building toilets – every time he got paid, he’d walk to the school to put the money towards his tuition. He was recognised for his efforts and Red Cross Malawi now pays for his school fees. The work he is doing at Sophie’s is for room and board – he is not paid.
During his break between Form 3 and 4, he will find another job in hopes of saving money for college. But he is worried, college is very expensive: 100 000 MK (~ 750 $) per semester – with few scholarships and no chance of a bank loan. He will find a job but it will pay between 2 000 – 6 000 MK a month. Minus his living expenses = a long time before he can go to college. He has asked me for help...

Wrap up, Mop up…

Emotions are running high as my two week mark has hit me.
Two weeks remain to finish up my Data Base, Final Report and present it to both offices. Two weeks remain to say good bye to all my friendships I have made and accept their uncertain future – will I ever see you again? I cried. I miss home, but I know I will see YOU again. I’m going to confess – I’m crying now just typing about leaving. The friendships that I have started here – they are not ready to end…
One challenge I’m having: how do I show my friends how much I care about them and how much they mean to me when I don’t speak Chichewa and they don’t speak English – how do I “stay in touch”? If I return, will I ever find them again? Read my blog called Asake Faith – she’s who I’m talking about.

We had a Farewell Party for the Mzungu (me) last Friday. It was a little early but amazing, all my co-workers and friends from other organizations (my Malawian doctor~), all the dancing, all the laughing… It was held at the Ntchisi Lodge – the nice bar of the area, way more than what I was expecting. There was a power failure all day and into the early evening, making the start a little slow, but once the power returned, some drinks came out and Luciano started busting out the Malawian tunes – the crazyness began. Oh the dancing – never seen men dance quite like that – don’t worry I got it all on film~ There were only 4 women, compared to about 20 men. Reason – (1) working force is dominated by men (of the 4 women, one was me and one was my co-worker – the others were wives of men) and (2) everyone had to pay to enter (many of a women friends don’t have money to spend like that). Learned something funny – if someone says they do not drink alcohol, it probably means they don’t drink beer or hard alcohol, but they still drink wine because wine is not alcohol. Hehe I don’t know if this was just people making excuses to me or if this is standard… The co-workers who told me that they don’t drink – they had wine mixed with coco cola (yes, wine mixed with coco cola).

Second Challenge: Many people understand that I am leaving shortly and are getting excited about all my things – pots, plates, mattress, stove – they want them. Which is causing some frustration as I am bad at saying no and already have ideas of who/where I want my things to go. Another dilemma: I don’t want to just give it all away and feed their western stereotype but at the same time that 200 MK is a coffee for me but three meals for them…

I’m going to miss a lot of people – but there are two people who have touched in special ways, Jossum and Asake Faith. I’m finding it hard to use words to describe a friend ship that uses no words (Asake Faith), but I have written a blog about each to try to express why I’m so sad to leave Ntchisi, Malawi.

Termites - June 2

This is my second night in my new home. It's a two room, concrete floor with a tin roof and exposed termite-riddled beams. One room is for sleeping, the other for everything else; I cook outside. There is no electricity and I share a communal tap, toilet and bathing shelter with 4 other households. The first night was hard. All by myself in the empty, dark rooms with only the termites and spiders to keep me company. The spiders, thankfully, kept to themselves (one was really really big!) and the termites just munched their way through the night – dropping their mess all over my swept floor. I was all to my lonesome as all my human neighbours where asleep and I was hungry….The water had been off (a daily event), which meant that I had no water to cook with or to drink.
Tonight, I'm back on top of the world! I have stored water in containers, have swept the termites' mess out the door (though they're at it, dropping more, as I write) and Martha, my landlord, helped me cook dinner. I was quite the pathetic mzungu (“white person” in Chichewa, the main local language), having trouble lighting my charcoal, having the wrong tools to cook nsima and then having really no clue how to make it. But Martha helped me along the way and even loaned me some of her cooking utensils. While cooking outside, I was introduced to all my neighbours and more words were added to my Chichewa vocabulary. I still managed to ruin the nsima...but I'm sure tomorrow will be better~
My home is very empty, with my belongings on the floor…I have no dresser, shelves, racks, table, chairs, rope...I do have a mattress!!! haha ya at least I have that. My mission tomorrow is to find a matt made of grass to sit on and a basket with a cover for my food. And the next day to figure out what to do about my clothes on the floor...I can't hang ropes because the termites mess falls even more every time I touch the beams.
Ntchisi is a small town that has had its up and downs in terms of opportunities for "development" (depending on your definition). A while back, Ntchisi was kind of a big stop over for people travelling from Lilongwe (the capital) to Nkhotakhota or Mzuzu, but then the road was paved between Lilongwe, Kasungu and Mzuzu, taking Ntchisi of the beaten road. But just in February, they finished paving the road from Lilongwe to Ntchisi, and the change here is quite big: fresh bread every day, instead of once a week (for some reason no one bakes locally, only some buns and donuts); the mini-bus ride takes only 2-3 hrs instead of the whole day and you can make it here during the rainy season!

Am I hip? Or am I more punk? – May 28

Men hold men, women hold women, but never will you see a man holding a woman in public. Many men wear what we'd call women’s pants. I can't tell who'd be considered "the socially awkward," “the cool,” “the punk,” “the hip.” Haha, I don’t know – but my natural "stereo-typing" techniques from Canada definitely can't be applied here; hence my senses are going bonkers. And who knows where I fit in – wait can I fit in? I wear a jetengje (wrap around skirt), which 99% of the women in Ntchisi wear and use for everything. And my hair style is like most women here – short. Though it’s growing straight up and out, and kinda spiky. Most women have short hair like the men because it takes time and money to maintain it. Plus it keeps the bugs down. One of the first questions I got when I arrived in Ntchisi was: “Do you have lice problems in Canada?”

I’m still horrible at remembering people’s names and where I’ve met them and I still get people confused, which makes me feel horrible. Yesterday, I said hi to a gentleman at work. I thought I’d met him last week...so I said that I’d forgotten his name. We exchanged names and it became evident that we actually hadn't met last week and that this was our first encounter...I’m hoping things got lost in translation.

Never ending root causes – May 25

Many of you EWBers have done the Root Causes of Poverty Workshop which involves having to try to understand the complexity of poverty. Being here made it ten fold more complicated for me, and more depressing. An NGO comes into a village and digs a borehole, giving the whole village easy access to clean, safe drinking water. The NGO leaves. There is still diarrhoea and children are still sick. The borehole breaks down after X years. The villagers don't have the parts to fix it, so revert back to old habits of fetching water. Back to square one.

The NGO didn't engage the village in the project, leaving the villagers feeling like the borehole doesn't belong to them. With no sense of ownership or understanding of how it works, there is no will to fix it when it breaks. NGOs often only focus on structural development – not the social development.

Little effort is put into education about hygiene and sanitation, meaning the villagers don't see the link between hand washing and the spread of diarrhoea, and they are left with little motivation to change their everyday habits (using a latrine instead of the field, washing hands after using the latrine…). To put it into a Canadian’s perspective: we know how descrutive our polluting ways are and that we should change, or at least that's what people keep telling us. But we don't. We are too comfortable in our habits. Plus we don't really know what will happen if we continue our habits because there are so many factors. See the similarity??

That’s the problem that I’m facing now – there are so many variables which can make a kid sick that it is impossible to see the link between washing hands after using the potty or not.

I'm volunteering with a small Malawian NGO called Work for Rural Health (WRH), who's funded by European Union (EU) for a three-year project in Ntchisi (July marks the half way point). We are partnered with another NGO, CARE. WRH does hygiene and sanitation - while CARE focuses on Health/Nutrition Education, Food Security, and Village Savings and Loans. We work in the same Traditional Authorities (T/As)* with the same villages, but at different times. The idea is that if a village is successful with the 4 projects, then they will be stronger, healthier and more prepared for when the rains fail. Capacity building, empowering and sustainability are very popular words. WRH uses the PHAST (Participatory Hygiene and Sanitation Transformation) Approach which uses 7 steps to facilitate the village in identifying their own needs/problems (i.e. diarrhoea, malaria, hunger...) and to decide as group on solutions. It’s a great program in theory – like many – but we’re majorly lacking on Social Development and Monitoring and Evaluation, meaning the project starts off great, and then the energy from the village fades.

Not too sure why this happens, but I think it’s because WRH’s program is paying too much attention to numbers and not enough attention to the why's. So the installed facilities just sit there unused or broken…Pretty frustrating and depressing when you look at how much money in being pumped in NGOs all over the world – yet poverty is still with us.

So, what’s not working and what is?

I don’t have any answers and in my 3 month placement I probably won’t get many or have much impact. How’s that for a happy thought? Ha ha.

This is what I’m doing with WRH in Ntchisi, Malawi: Computers and Feedback. I’m working with the three people in my office on their computer skills in Word, Excel and typing. I am also working on their data analysis files – basically working with Excel to have it where they input the monthly data and it automatically feeds into different graphs and forms to make analysing and reporting quicker and easier. For feedback, I’m kinda like their mini M&E system – when I notice something, I tell them and suggest things. Somethings they love, some they don’t – just like home! I’m currently reading a book called Changing Minds, I’ll let you know how it goes~

Other NGOs/government org. in Ntchisi:

World Vision
World Relief Malawi
Volunteer Services Overseas
Red Cross
National Initiative for Civic Education
CAYO
National Aids Commission
And three others which I forget the names of, but have to do with youth development. And I’m sure there are a few more hiding from me.

That’s 12, plus EWB, 13 – that’s crazy for a small town/district like Ntchisi, though it is one of the least structurally developed.


*T/As: there are numerous T/As in one district. They are a step in the communication path or hierarchy (Villagers → Village Headman → Group Village Headman → T/A...)

The Introvert – May 20

There is no going to my room and closing the door after work. There’s no going for a walk after dinner. The first is cultural, the second is safety. But it means that I'm always with people, except during the hours of sleep. Walking down the main road to the market, I’m a low-time celebrity – every child is screaming “MZUNGU” and every tenth person asks “Muli bwanji?” (How are you?).

Coming from our individualistic society and big, impersonal Montreal, makes this Malawian, smalltown society a constant bombardment for anyone, regardless if introverted or extroverted. The family that I currently live with likes to play the radio and the tv at the same time and ALL morning and evening. At night, I hear the bars playing their reggae music on these giant horrible sound systems well into the night. Ntchisi, Malawi never seems to be quiet. My ear plugs are my only escape into silence... and running is my down time.

It's wearing me out a little, but I love it. The people are so unbelievably generous and friendly, that I'm happy to be around them all the time. This culture is constantly energising, with everyone greeting each other in the street, little kids running freely in big herds – definitely a bigger sense of communitythan I have ever experienced in Montreal . Plus this way I have no time to be home sick~

As I sit here and write, there is eight-year-old Delipha tapping the rhythm of the song from the radio on the head of two-year-old Bliate, who dances to the commercial on the television and screams “AUNTIE” – that’s me.

The Market

Ever wonder what Village des Valleurs, and other second hand stores like it, do with all their extra clothes??? They pack it up and ship it to Africa.

While exploring the Lilongwe, Malawi markets, I found stall after stall selling western clothing with the tag from Village des Valleurs (VdV) still on many of the articles. I don't know the whole value chart yet, but it starts with:

• We drop off all our unwanted clothes

• VdV then packs up what doesn't sell and pays for the container and shipping

• In Africa, various countries receive the containers

• Don't know exactly what happens in the exchange...Who receives it? How is it distributed?

• Street sellers buy wrapped bundles by categories (blankets, t-shirts, pants...etc) at ~ 15 000 to 30 000 MK (~150 MK = 1$ CND) without really knowing what's in there

• The sellers set up their stalls and people buy the used clothing with the VdV label still on it, but in Malawian Kwachas

How much of the goods goes to orphanages or schools? Unknown.

The Value chain has its pros and cons:

• Pros: the street sellers have a business, clothes are "cheap", easy to find and you might just spot a sweet UBC hoodie

• Cons: Textile industries are pretty much out of business and the market is flooded with these used clothes, which drives the prices down for all the sellers, meaning it's cheap for the buyers (pro) and all the kids run around with GAP and BARBY printed on their chests

There are obviously more complex pros/cons that I have yet to find and comprehend. And what would happen if the supply were to stop? Or if the supply were to increase?

A similar impact on a country's economy can come from FOOD AID if / when farmers from Canada/United States are SUBSIDIZED to the extent that it becomes cheaper for a Malawian to buy the imported rice or maize than to buy it locally. When the market prices drop, farmers can no longer make a profit; also farmers have trouble finding labourers, because it is not worth working to bring in a harvest if FOOD AID is coming.

**Photo by Duncan McNicholl

Malawi, The Heart of Africa

After 6 days of intense learning in Toronto, about 30 hours of traveling over 6 time zones, 2 more days of intense learning in Lilongwe, the capital of Malawi, I finally arrived in Ntchisi, my new home town, on Monday may 12. The moment I've been working towards for the last 4 months.

All my senses are doing over time as my body tries to absorb my new surrondings. The smells, the wind, the sun, the stars, the bugs, the architecture, the open fields, the food, the clothes, the people, the language....

The language is the hardest part for me at the moment. There are too many ways of saying "Hello, how are you?" for the different times of the day, that I just get confused. At least my attemps make people laugh, and the kids never tire of correcting my pronunciation. I find it hard to sit in a meeting and have four Malawians speak in English just so I can understand. But the people here are too nice and so accommodating that I'm already feeling at home.

The climate here is fantastic! The day starts with a burning sun (without the humidity of Montreal) and ends with a cool breeze for easy sleeping. It's the dry season, or Malawi's "winter," so it's cold enough at night to wear pants and want a nice blanket to sleep with. Dry season also means fewer mosquitoes!!

The food is quite different, but pretty good. Breakfast is usually either bread with margarine or boiled sweet potato*. For lunch and dinner, it’s always nshinma** with two other dishes: a leafy green relish made from either pumpkin leaves or rape leaves, and a meat dish (goat or fish, so far). I like everything so far, except the fish -- it's just a little too fishy~

The adventure of getting to this town from Lilongwe, drove home the logic of not driving after sunset. The roads are narrow and they wind through the hills; add the people, bikes, ox-pulled wagons, dogs and goats, and you've got difficult driving even in daylight. Bring on the darkness…well you can just imagine.

*Sweet potatoes are kinda yellow and yams are orange.

**Nshima is made from either corn flour or cassava flour. The flour is added to boiling water and stirred and stirred and stirred over the fire into a dough-like consistency. You really get a sense of how strong the women are when you "try" to stir the nshima the way they do, at their impressive intensity... it's very thick which is good -- because it sticks to your stomach.

* Photo by Duncan McNicholl

Second Annual 1/2 Marathon

Hey There!! I leave for Toronto tomorrow morning! The moment I've been waiting for, for what seems too long~ but now it's come so quick that I haven't even packed yet...
Today we ran The Second Annual International 1/2 Marathon! It all started last year when Christian Beaudrie was in Tamale, Ghana and was McGill's Working Partnership. He had an itch to run a 1/2 Marathon and Team Montreal (Poly, Concordia and McGill University) joined him! This year it grew; we had runners in Montreal, Toronto, Saskatoon, Vancouver, Seattle and in Malawi's capital, Lilongwe!! PLUS: the Montreal Gazette came~~ So look for us in the up-coming Monday paper under A Cause for Applause.