Our minibus trundled violently down a red dirt path. It was
chock-full: three of the girls in the back, four of us in the middle row, Penny
and Patti in the front passenger row with Annie’s assistant Loveness, and then
Annie, her photographer/paparazzi guy, and the driver up front. The minibuses are
the main public transport system in Malawi, allowing people to travel from city
to city in the absurdly cramped vehicles. Today we had our own though because
as I have said, Annie owns Malawi.
The morning began in confusion- we reported at 8:30 in front
of the lodge awaiting our ride to Annie’s church, St. Paul’s Catholic church in
her home village. We had been told both that it started at 9 and 9:30, so we
sort of stood around in confusion until Andrew came out to let us know Annie
was on her way to go to the church with us, which made us happy and excited. It
probably didn’t matter what time we turned up if Annie was with us. She
appeared at about 9, so we really hoped mass wasn’t beginning because we would certainly
be late. A few minutes later the minibus arrived and we crammed in, stopping to
pick up the videographer guy Annie brings some places.
We made more stops: Annie told us the village has little
access to some basic foods like eggs, bread, and sugar, and the country is in a
bit of a famine currently after all. We got lots of those things and then made
our way to the village. We eventually turned off the “highway” to a red dirt
path by a sign for “Chikala Primary School” and a bunch of half built
buildings. Ashley told me how often, donors or investors will back the
beginning of a building project but run out of funds before it is completed,
leaving these instant ruins. We bounced along the lumpy road, feeling a bit
like the contents of a blender as elbows and bread went flying everywhere. I
had strong flashbacks to riding in the massive SUVs on Fraser Island in
Australia. We were soon passing through mostly dirt and tall grass and most of
us stopped believing we were headed toward a church. We parked in a small grove
of trees by a simple cinderblock and tin building and I hopped out with skepticism.
ideal photography circumstances
But then I heard the singing. We walked up a sloped dirt
path along the side of the structure to get to the door. Voices were coming
through the stone windows and I couldn’t believe they were real. The door
opened to the rear of the church, and we allowed Annie to lead the way since we
seemed to be fashionably late. We passed many many completely full rows of
worshippers, and many stopped singing to watch us progress to two rows in the
front of the women’s side that had clearly been saved for us. I was in the
front right on the aisle. The hymn ended shortly after we took our places.
walking into church
The whole service would be in Chichewa, but the priest
greeted us in English and extended warm welcomes to the church. While he did
this I took in the layout of the room: It was made of cinderblocks with cement
lattice windows and a corrugated tin roof with white painted rickety rafters.
Just above the altar, the tin was replaced by a nearly translucent material
that let sunlight illuminate the altar. Behind the altar a crucifix stood
before a simple stained glass cross window. Three very small altar boys stood
against the wall on each side of the altar. Just in front of us was a carpeted
area where 4 rows of small girls sat on the floor, all in white or yellow
dresses. The first 4 rows of the men’s side was the choir, all in white shirts,
composed of small boys and girls and some grow men, accompanied by a bongo-type
drum and led by a man with an infectious smile. Thanks to 22 years of
Catholicism and the universal nature of the Catholic church, I could approximate
which parts of the mass were occurring despite knowing about 20 words of
Chichewa. After some beginning rites, we were on our knees when another song
began.
I cannot describe the sound to you. It was entirely a
cappella but was the most full music I have ever heard. The director would
lightly sing in falsetto the begging of the song before gesturing to bring the
sopranos sing. They came into the song on a high, clear note and then all the
voice parts crashed in like water and became a dance. Each layer of harmony was
rich and made the concrete building feel like a concert hall. It made me so
dizzy and I could feel my heart swelling and clenching at the same time. Before
I knew what was happening I was crying. At first I tried to cry gracefully and
discretely wipe tears away, but soon I couldn’t control it at all and my chest
hurt with the effort of keeping it in. I bowed my head and let my shoulders
shake and tears fall onto the floor. It was the kind of beauty your body can’t
stand. It felt like hearing the best news in the world or being told you are
loved and knowing it’s true. In Ashley’s words, that has to be what heaven
sounds like. If all I did in Malawi was come to this church to hear one song,
before turning around and heading home, it would have been worth it.
It took a couple songs for me to adjust to existing in such
close proximity to that music. It helped to distract myself with the game of
smiling at the children in front of me (who all kept turning around to gaze at
us), and seeing how many tries it took to get them to smile back. The little
altar boys were easy, and eventually I had them hiding inside their robes to
conceal their bashful smiles. There were a couple older women corralling the
children sitting in front of us. More kids kept coming up to sit in that last
row, so eventually the woman started seating some of them in the rows behind us
to keep them out of the aisle. When those filled up, one little girl in a pale
green dress got booted from the carpet and placed next to me at the end of our
row. At first she sat on the very edge, with one leg in the aisle. I turned to
her and smiled to no effect. A few minutes later I tried again, and this time
after a few seconds of gazing at me solemnly, the deepest grin spread across
her face. It was like watching a flower blossom. After that, every time we
returned to the seat from kneeling or standing, she was closer to me, with an
elbow in my lap.
The offertory was quite different from at home. In St. Paul’s
the glorious music has everyone dancing. In fact, the first three rows of children
in front of us seemed to be a sort of dance team, doing a graceful hula type of
dance that just exudes celebration. And it’s fitting because every hymn was
rejoicing. There was no mourning, every song was the happiest sound you have
ever heard. So during the offertory, rather than being passed, women stand with
various baskets at the front of the church and the parishioners dance down the aisle to give what they
have to the church. The oldest women I have ever seen, stomping and smiling as
they bounced passed me and my friend toward their seats to the voices and the
drum.
But the most important moment was communion. In the Catholic
church, we believe that when the priest blesses the bread and the wine, they
literally become the physical body and blood of Christ, and that because of
that transformation he exists in the room with us from that moment. At home,
the moment the bread is blessed, we bow our heads and bells ring so that we can
solemnly welcome and thank our savior. In Malawi, the moment the priest blesses
the host and the Lord enters the room, the full congregation sings out a three
note tune in rich, perfect harmony, and extends their right hands toward the
host. They created audible joy to greet our Lord and King.
St. Paul's
After the mass ended, the priest spoke in Chichewa of what a
blessing it was to have us. Unbeknownst to us (because we were naïve to how
people in the villages of Malawi actually live) our contributions to the
offertory (no more than $5 USD worth of Kwachas per person) had quadrupled the
collected sum. More than a hundred parishioners contributed beside us, and
still their gifts couldn’t compare to our pocket change. Again I felt dizzy. He
asked Patti to say some words and with a translator, she introduced us to the
whole room. She also commented that Americans really needed to learn to dance
when we worship and that got everyone laughing and crying out. We received many
more thanks and then Annie was asked to speak. She did so in
half-English-half-Chichewa, speaking to our relationship with her and with
Malawi. After the service ended and we processed out row by row, we
inadvertently made a line outside that every exiting parishioner proceeded to
troop, shaking all our hands and thanking us. I privately felt ridiculous and
guilty for being thanked for a contribution of 2,000 Kwachas ($2.81), but used
the time to ask many names and learn about them. I gave my little friend the
necklace I was wearing (which was originally for you, Steph, so now you know it’s
with a good home) and she gave a small smile and sprinted away. She seemed
scared but I hope she liked it.
After mass we walked out to the highway rather than making
the minibus go off-road again. Many little girls from mass walked with us,
silently curious and just spending wordless time with us. We passed boys
playing games, more tin-roofed homes, giant chickens, and lots of laughter and Sunday
relaxation. Near the road there were three little children by the path, waving at
us. When I asked them “Muli bwanji?” the just absolutely lost it, laughing
hysterically. That was a new reaction for me, but I liked it. As we waited for
the bus, Annie went to a stand across the street and bought us a (literal) bunch
of sweet, chubby bananas.
After the bus ride, we felt very hungry so most of us
students walked down the mountain to Tasty Bites, a restaurant we like in town.
I don’t remember if I wrote about it before but it’s basically just a
restaurant with a vaguely Indian theme with great spring rolls and questionable
ice cream. My internal monologue is going about quadruple speed here so it’s
hard to know what I’ve typed and what I’ve just thought about. Before leaving
though I had to hug Ashley goodbye because she and Penny are traveling to
Blantyre for a few days before meeting us at Liwonde Wednesday. That was sad.
But downtown was fun and the TB pizza we got was yummy. Our friend Memory who
works at the lodge found us on our way back so we hopped in the bed of his truck
rather than hiking the rest of the way up the mountain.
After that I went to the front of the lodge where a few guys
sell their carved items and necklaces every day. They can be pretty pushy like
the guys at the wall but I am getting better at deflecting their advances. My
biggest triumph was this guy who was trying to sell me a Bao set a couple days
ago. I told him I didn’t know how to play and asked if he’d teach me. So
tonight we sat down together on the breakfast porch and he thought me how. He
was a great teacher and that’s saying something because I picked it up
embarrassingly slowly. It’s a rather complex game though, but I had a great
time. His name is Carrison and he said fantastic things. For example, when he
advised me on a specific move and I took his advice, afterwards he said “Now
you see the goodness.” I also loved that when he was affirming something, the
way most people would say “Yes, right” he said “Yes, that is.” The game is also
about predicting the opponents moves, so he said very abstractly impressive
statements like “you must think about your future.” It was a fantastic way to
spend an evening, and Carrison said my brain got bigger which is a bonus.
When I got back to my room, all Ashley’s stuff was gone, but
she left me a note and I cried. I hope it’s clear how loving and wonderful she
is from her features in my writing. Despite seeing her in 3 days, it feels very
tragic to lose the chance to process each day with her and laugh at the
miracles of each day. Thank you, Ashley.
Another week begins anew tomorrow! It can only be filled
with more grace now that the music from this morning lives in my soul.
With love and frequent tears,
Lauren
I am grateful for…
- Sunshine
- Mass
- The mountain
What will I do to make
today great?
- Relax!
- Work on my med school application
- Read the Bibe
Daily affirmations. I
am…
Lighthearted
3 Amazing things that happened
today…
- Mass
- Walking around the village
- Playing Bao with Carrison
How could I have made
today even better?
Eating more
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