Zomba Part Deux Begins

“It’s the coming back that’s important” said Pat. We were on the bus to Domasi, where the education students would go to the schools and we’d head to Domasi Rural hospital, for the first time for both me and Jess. Jess had just told me that I was going to spend my summer after year one of medical school back in Africa with her (she already believes in me so much, she is the most supportive and encouraging). I asked her whether we would be in other parts of Africa or back in Malawi and she said we would be in Malawi, building a relationship was what it was about. Pat broke away from her conversation with another teacher about how Malawi was sort of “Africa for beginners” since it’s not violent and not always the poorest. She echoed our sentiments and told us the really important thing was coming back

But then you have to know that you picked the right place to come back to- you don’t build trust with anyone by spending years shopping around for the right country. Is it bad that we’re dedicating ourselves and our time and our funds to “Africa for beginners?” Is this the primary school with the most need? The village with the most need? The country with the most need? But we have to remember: we are here on purpose. It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately- we wonder in our lives if we are in the right place, studying the right thing, in love with the right person. But it wasn’t us stumbling in the dark that got us to these places and into these hearts. We were lovingly brought here by a creator with a real eye for beauty. So whatever sets our hearts alight, whether in the richest or poorest surroundings, that is what or who we were made to love.

We spent the morning at Domasi Rural, and Ashley told me right- it is in much worse conditions than the hospitals we have been to so far. If I wasn’t already aware, I wouldn’t have known it was a hospital. It is a collection of small one-story brick buildings without paths between them and without signs.

After asking through a few different wards, we found the nurse in charge of the NRU (nutritional rehabilitation unit) who was EXACTLY who we needed to talk to. Jessica’s work in Malawi, where she has funding to return several times each year, is to find out what is causing malnutrition in the villages and establish plans to improve it. Of course my system is all about malnutrition and its link to hypothermia and the hospital interventions for both of those so we all questioned her for a long time and she was so wonderful and helpful.

Next we went to MIE to have a snack (bless up for the clif bars Jessica gave me) and assemble everyone for our trek. We were walking through the bush to Malika church, a traditional non-denominational church in a far-ish village that Dr. Pat always brings groups to. They love her there, and we were excited for more dancing and singing after the amazing performances at the school yesterday. It would be about a 45 minute walk each way also which we were STOKED about since we aren’t really allowed to go running or anything here. The weather was magnificent, the path was dusty, and we were all in great company.

beginning the journey to Malika church

On the walk to Malika church I got to talk to John Wesley, the dear friend of Dr. Pat and a teacher at Domasi Government Primary. I asked him 8 thousand questions that he answered so patiently. I learned lots about how the schools work and what students learn and how much they cost. Primary school (grades 1-8) are basically free. Secondary school costs, different amounts based on how good the school is. Even more scary, students take exams after standard 8 that determine if they get into secondary school. Students with poor marks on those exams (which are all in English) stop their education there and you can imagine the economic and life consequences from that.

However, I also learned that many many many students attend the primary schools because they are basically free, to it’s compulsory for parents to send their children. However, many parents take their daughters out of school after standard 3, so at age 10. This is because members of the Yao tribe (the tribe of southern Malawi) have initiatory rights at age 10 for women that signal their maturity. Like Amos told me in the notebook he wrote for me, these initiations impart sexual knowledge or training, so that 10 year olds are getting married young or conceiving illegitimate children or becoming prostitutes. This is terrifying, yes because of what is happening to these girls but also of something that may be more complex:

It seems fine to come to Malawi and offer medical equipment and education. But the bedrock of the issues we are trying to tackle is culture. The culture of this place produces things that our culture says are bad, but it seems fundamentally wrong to come to change culture. I think it is wrong. But people are getting diseases, students aren’t learning enough to get fulfilling jobs, and children aren’t being fed.

What do we do?

Luckily I was saved from these scary thoughts by our arrival at Malika church. We had walked about 3.5 miles on a dusty road amid beautiful fields to this white building on a hill. We filed in and the chorus was already singing to us, “You are welcome.” We sat on benches near the front, but the rest of the church was empty.

"Who are you, Lord?" Saul asked. "I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting"

Acts 9:5

Shortly after being greeted by the director (Malika church is mostly a performance group that also provides school and work opportunities to its members), the songs began. Of course, the music was beautiful. It was accompanied by a synthesized keyboard that westernized the music a little though and made me sad momentarily, it lacked the jarring a cappella joy that drove me to shambles at the Catholic service. Still it made everyone, myself included, so happy we danced. They sang many songs, all in Chichewa, and there was great dancing by audience and performers alike. I decided that the reason all Malawian children can dance amazingly is because they spend the first years of their lives bouncing around on their mothers’ backs in their chitenjis. They literally grow up dancing. By the end, the church was packed because villagers kept filing in to hear the joyful sound. When our professors presented our donations, they were all given beautiful green chitenjis.

The beautiful choir and its excited director

On the walk back to the schools and our bus, many children that were in the church and village walked with us and held our hands.

The director with Abby and Julie

I made a special friend Shakira, and we taught each other Chichewa and English. The views were also incredible, it was so nice to walk around and appreciate this place and its children.

Back at the homestead the power was out again, which is odd because it was rarely out before we went to Liwonde and this was twice in less than 24 hours. Also, my bed was missing from my and Jess’s room, which was distressing as I was very tired. I just went to the front desk though and dear Francis said, “I’ll get you one!” and moments later was hiking up the stairs carrying a box spring. Annie’s staff gets it done. And the best news- he brought a bigger bed than I had before! So now I’m really living the good life. The sun sets at 5:15 here so since no power means no seeing we just went to dinner at the restaurant where they were using candles and then a generator. When leaving the rooms for dinner, Penny accidentally locked her room key in her room. The front desk didn’t have a replacement so we had a very comedic affair of them using a knife to try to jimmy open the door, then having me get a hanger from my room so they could pop open the window, but that had bars beyond it so after using a flashlight to locate the key across the room, the staff member, Memory, got a long pole, jammed the coat hanger inside so it protruded as a hook, and sent it through the window bars to pick up the key and bring it to us. It was amazing. Penny gave him a huge hug afterwards. So with that over we had dinner.

Back at the room, Jessica and I had some roomie talk. I posed my musings from earlier: how can we come here and attempt to change culture? She said something I believe must be the answer:

            We have to choose the absolutes of what we believe is justice. I have to define my moral obligations, as a Christian, an American, a woman, as a daughter, a sister, a friend, and a student. And then after I’ve done my best to define my absolutes I have to act on them because that’s what it means to be a global citizen, seeking justice.

I realized recently that my Australia blog was a lot funnier than this blog. I apologize for that, readers, but I think it makes sense since I was bopping around Australia without a care in the world but now I’m bopping around Malawi assuming all the cares of the world. Or at least trying.

With love and questions,

Lauren

P.S. I ate the chocolate too fast and now my tummy hurts.
P.S.S. I thought I wrote in that we went to the store after the Malika church and that's where I bought the chocolate. But I didn't. But now you know. 

I am grateful for…

Early mornings

Pat and her history here

Wellington, our bus driver

What will I do to make today great?

Buy some chocolate

Eat some veggies

Ask good questions at Domasi

Daily affirmations. I am…

Going to rally

3 Amazing things that happened today…

Learning from John Wesley on the way to Malika church

Learning about Domasi Rural from Eunice

I got a giant bed!

How could I have made today even better?

Danced more

me contemplating justice and culture