An Ode to the Bucket

Every single day here in my small village, I find myself depending on buckets for just about everything. Here are a variety of ways buckets have become a vital part of my Peace Corps Life:

-My sink: I have one bucket that has a faucet on it that drains into another bucket located in my kitchen. I use this to wash my hands, my vegetables, and to rinse my dishes.

-My dish collector: This bucket is larger and is stored under my kitchen table. This holds all my dirty dishes until I work up enough motivation to clean them (which is usually once every single dish is dirty enough that I’m grossed out using it again… before you judge, you try fetching your own water and see how often you’ll want to do dishes).

-My Dishwasher: I put water in one bucket with soap and rinse the dishes off in another.

-My Washing Machine: I soak clothes in a bucket with soap for an hour, then wash/rinse them off in a different bucket with clean water.

-My Bath: Who needs running water when you have a bucket and a cup!?

-My Water Collector: I strap the big boy (50 Liters) onto the back of my bike and ride on down to the bore hole to pump my water! He’s all fixed from the fall a couple weeks ago thanks to some handy duct tape! 

-My Fermenter: Oh bucket wine, how delicious and horrible you are all at the same time! Isabel and I have been experimenting with making our own wine by putting water, local fruit and yeast in a bucket and waiting! The last one was delicious but left a mean hangover… 

-My Lizard/Spider/Bug Catcher: Without fail, every time I return home after being gone for more than 2 days I am surprised to find something has crawled in to a bucket and (usually) died… RIP Jim, the lizard King. 

-My Storage: Buckets help keep sneaky things like cockroaches and mice out of my beans and rice.

-My Watering Can: When I go water plants at either Isabel’s house or Lucius’s garden, buckets are the means to keep the plants growing (it hasn’t rained for 3 months).

-Plant Nursery: What do you do when you have a hole in your bucket? Well fill it with dirt dear Liza! This worked fairly well to get some plants going for Isabel’s garden.

-Solar Dryer: Have another broken bucket? Throw a dark chitenge in the bottom, use that extra screen and plastic you have lying around, and create your own little solar dryer for tomatoes, mangos and bananas!

-Compost Toilet: Some volunteers feel bad interrupting the nightly parties that cockroaches, bats, snakes, mice, frogs, scorpions, and spiders like to host in our chimbuzi’s (outhouse). Solution? Keep a bucket in your room for those late night emergencies! Luckily I have an iron bladder and have not had an issue just yet… but doubt I’ll make it through these two years without sacrificing one of my buckets for this purpose, it’s part of life in the Peace Corps after all.

*It seems like I have buckets everywhere in my house according to this post, when in reality I only own 4*

Tattoos

I was walking through my village today just to get out of the house and wandered down to the trading area. As always, when I am out and about the kids yell either “Sarah” or “mzungu” at me (Sarah was a previous volunteer in the village next to mine and automatically every white female that passes through is now named Sarah). The adults call out to me as well always wanting to chat. Today, I stopped and was talking to a man who is a teacher at a secondary school not too far away when a couple of women showed up, grabbed me, and tried cleaning the tattoo off my arm. He tried to translate for me, saying that the women wanted to know if I was born with this mark or if I had just drawn it on with a pen that morning. I tried to explain that no, it is a permanent mark that I chose to get put there. They did not understand why it was not washing off and it took some time before I could have my arm back. I tried my best to explain that in America, tattoos are common and a part of our culture but some things are just too difficult to translate… they walked away very confused.

One time, as Isabel and I were traveling into town in the back of a pick-up, we were talking to the other passengers about the World Cup and game that had happened the night before. An African team had lost against some European team, and one person mentioned it was because the other team used magic. This of course peaked our interest, and so we asked how he knew magic was being used? He said it was evident in all the charms the other team had on their skin. Basically, his thought was the other team had been given the upper hand because of the magical charms (tattoos) so many of the players had. (Side note: during this ride, we also learned about the fire breathing dragons that live in the Misuku Hills and discussed mermaids which most Malawians believe to be real).

Moral of the story is, Malawians don’t understand tattoos. I can only imagine how the thought of paying someone to permanently draw on your skin seems ludicrous and extremely frivolous to someone who struggles to have enough money for food. The cost of only one of my tattoos could have probably provided a family with enough money to by ufa (used to make nsima) for a whole year. Perspective is an interesting thing.

Transportation

I am sitting my house very sore after a traveling around chitipa for the past couple of days. This is pretty typical. Malawi is hard on the body if you want to go anywhere… There are a several ways to get around this beautiful country:

• Bus. There are certain buses that travel to all the main cities around Malawi. This is my preferred method of traveling, mostly because 90% of the time you are guaranteed to have your own seat. It’s usually more reliable too. There are scheduled stops, and departure times and you can even book your ticket in advance! The only problem is that 50% of the time something is bound to go wrong. I have several stories from bus complications already, here are two examples: (1) The first time I hopped on one of these big boys was on the way home from site visit- the bus broke down about 10k away from Mzuzu, our destination. It was horrible because we were so close, yet so far! We ended up hitching a ride with a retired catholic priest who was nice enough to pick us up after waiting almost 2 hours. (2) We were headed towards Mzuzu again to meet up with volunteers after our first month at site and really excited to see everyone. About 30 minutes after hopping on the bus we got a flat (question: how many Malawians does it take to fix a flat? Answer: 10). It took over two hours to find all the parts necessary to change the tire. Dylan, Isabel and I sat across the street and watched while drinking cold Carlsberg’s (beer) and a pint of whiskey (none of us drink in our villages… we were excited to be out). After chatting with a couple of Malawians and getting tire back on we were on our way. Unfortunately, the bus driver decided he was going to try to make up for the lost time and put the pedal to the metal. Nothing was stopping this guy! Not even a herd of cows that filled the road… one poor cow didn’t see it coming (question: what do you do when you hit a cow in Malawi? Answer: slow down, let the farmer chase you for a little bit then go on your way). It was traumatizing.
   
• Minibus. The most common way to travel from point A to point B. It’s a small van that has seats for 16 people. This does not mean that when you fill it with 16 people that it is full. Oh no no no no. I have ridden in a bus that squished 27 people into it at one time. Let me tell you, there are places you want to sit, and other spots you should avoid at all costs. The front is the best place to be, as much as I hate to say it, sometimes it pays to be white in this country. If these seats are not taken they are usually offered to us. The second best place is the very back seat against the window. Typically the back seat will only seat four as it is intended, but you may have to put knees up by your face because of a bucket of fish they have slid under your seat (yes, it smells). The worst spot is by the door since this is where they will continue to fit people in spaces you didn’t know were there. I’ve had people sitting on my lap, people hugging me, babies plopped on my lap, drunken marriage proposals, great conversations, and chickens in my face. It’s not always pleasant, but it’s Malawi.
   
   
• Matola. This is usually some type of truck that is traveling to a certain place that will pick up people along the way. It’s really hit or miss with these. Sometimes the ride is great, you have plenty of room, the sky is blue, the air is sweet and you are ecstatic to be hitching a ride in Malawi. Other times you are sharing the back of a pick-up with 20 other people and all their earthly possessions, pressed up to the side of the truck so hard you are convinced you will have a huge purple bruise left on your ribs, you lose track of whose limbs are whose because you are so tightly packed, and you can barely breathe because the dust and wind is so heavy.
   
• Bike taxi. Pretty much anywhere you look in Malawi there are people on bikes. Some make their living by offering rides to anyone willing to pay to hop on the back of their bike. The bikes are almost always decorated with red and yellow ribbons, bells, and anything they think to stick on to them. Often the back seat will be padded, but sometimes this is not the case. ALWAYS look for the padded bike taxi! I made the mistake once and will never do that again. Sitting on metal rods while traveling over bumpy gravel is horribly painful.
   
   
• Bike. This is my favorite way to travel. I love my bike. Peace Corps provided us with Treck mountain bikes with nice big tires. It takes me about 2 hours to bike to my boma (city center), and I don’t think I could do it with any other bike. Of course I would prefer it if the two hour ride was tarmac vs. the sandy/gravel mix, but you can’t have everything.

Overall, I love traveling around Malawi. Yes, sometimes it’s painful, but I am in constant awe of the beauty I am surrounded by. Anytime I have to head south, I have to go through this huge mountain range where baboons sit on the side of the road watching the cars go by waiting for someone to throw out food. The feeling you get when you are on top of the mountain range, coming around a certain bend to see Lake Malawi shining through the trees in incredible. Even stopping in the small dusty villages only to be hassled by women and children trying to sell you food through the windows is fun (they hiss at you to get your attention… it’s odd). I’m sure at some point it will all become less magical, and more painful, but for now I can’t get enough.

The Pad Project

This past weekend I made my way to Chisenga to visit an education volunteer, Susan. She has been at her site since last August and works as a teacher at the local secondary school. She asked Isabel, Dylan to help out with a program called the Pad Project for girls 14-18. The pad project was started to help girls in their teens stay in school. Here in Malawi, when a girl starts menstruating, often she will stop attending school due to the attitude of girls being “dirty” during this time, especially since sanitary materials are not readily available to the girls like they are in the states. They will often miss school for week, which puts them behind their fellow classmates and just adds to the other challenges young women face to get an education in this country. The project itself involves sewing local fabric into napkins that are easy to wash and assemble. Susan did a great job instructing the girls and providing them with everything they would need. She took the opportunity to put together an informal panel where the girls could ask any questions they wanted anonymously to us. During our pre-service training we discussed the challenges young girls face, but I haven’t had the opportunity to talk face-to-face with a teenage Malawian girl about her life. I wanted to share some of the questions they wrote and gave to us in advance that we discussed on the panel.

“What should I do if I have a boyfriend who has other girlfriends but he loves me more than everyone?”

“How can I go to university? What way can I be a nurse? What can I do to come up with good points on my exams? What can I do to be educated? What can I do to see your country?”

“What should I do if I have passed my exams with good results and I want to apply for some jobs but some people are discouraging? Why boys and girls when are in courtship if they want to do sex they use condom and what is the results when they fail to use condom?”

“Why is sex important? How can one get HIV/AIDS? Why is education important? Is it good that girl and boy should have engage in sex?”

“What should I do to fulfill my ambitions? I have decided to be a soldier after my education, but some people are discouraging me that I am weak and can’t manage the training at soldiers, what should I do?”

“I want to ask about: Teenage pregnancy, sex, boyfriends, education”

“What can happen if you make sex with a boyfriend while you are at monthly period? If I don’t have parents and I don’t have school fees, how can you help me? How can I care about myself while I am in monthly period?”

“If my boyfriend want to have sex with me, while I do not want to have sex, what can I do? I stopped my education because I have impregnated so I want to start again, but I’m fearing that my boyfriend can start gossiping me and discriminating me what can I do with this problem? I want to continue learning and my parents want me to be married while I don’t want to so how can you help me to solve this issue? My boyfriend is HIV positive while I myself am HIV negative, so he want to marry me, what can I do?”

“Is it true that when a girl is on period she can go to sleep with a boy and she cannot get pregnant? If you are married and you have one child do you get your period again? What does the term period mean?”

“Is having sex before marriage not good? Is having sex without condoms dangerous? I have a boyfriend and he want to have sex without condoms, I don’t want to have sex without condoms, but my boyfriend says he is going to reject me, but I love him so much. What can I do to solve the problem? I like school very much and this year I want to go to college, so tell me the steps I must follow to be a good leader of Malawi so that I can reach up choosing a good goal in my life. What is the best subject for one who wants to go to college? What makes you want to teach at this stage? I myself want to be like you, tell me how please!”

There are so many things I wanted and tried to say to these girls as they were staring up at us. Some of these questions were harder to answer than others, but I think we all did a good job trying to empower these girls. There are so many issues to address, I just hope that some of what I do while I am here will make a difference.

Greetings

I know in my last post I mentioned greetings in various languages, but the really interesting thing here is how people greet each other. I’ll describe my observations as I am sitting here waiting for a meeting to start. We are sitting around a church where the meeting will be held, the women are on one side, men on the other. The women are all dressed in their brightly colored chitenjes. Most are wearing one wrapped around their head which is what they do when they are attending a more formal get-together. It’s funny though because they still wear 2^nd hand t-shirts that say things like “Tina’s bachelorette party,” “Don’t hate me cuz I’m beautiful,” and various 5k run/walk and fundraiser t-shirts. Just so you know, all the clothes you donate to good will, if not picked up in the states end up here!
The men sit on the other side of the church. Again, they all wear hats- a sign of importance. Doesn’t matter what kind of hat, any will do. Some have sport jackets on, others in simple button ups. Every time a new person arrives they greet every single person who is sitting around.

 Women will walk up to the person they are greeting, kneel, shake hands with the other person with their other hand holding their elbow. Often at the end of the handshake, you do this snap thing with the other person’s hand. I have only experienced this in the North but they may do it in other areas as well. If you do not shake hands, you at least greet the other person by putting your hands together in a clap and as you greet them and give a small curtsy. If you are a woman greeting a man, the woman will often avoid eye contact. I have seen some women who when greeting a man, even while carrying a load on her head, will stop walking, kneel all the way to the ground on the side of the road to greet a man before heading on their way. When men greet each other they will shake hands and do what I’ve coined as the “manshake.” I’m not quite sure how to describe it, but do have to say it’s funny watching the males in our group as they awkwardly learn how to do it….

Breaking News!!! Bettina Spilled the Water!!

Sometimes it’s not fun being a celebrity. I’ve never been a person who wanted to be famous, the attention makes me nervous. Here, it’s unavoidable. Everywhere I go, people will stop riding their bikes to watch me pass, children will come shrieking from the fields or houses pointing and shouting ‘mzungu’ (unless I’ve already yelled at them about this in which case they will yell ‘bettina’ or some variation of my name), people stop outside my gate and will just stare and watch me cook or do chores. I’m freaking hilarious by the way. Anything I say or do is followed with laughter or cheers (it would be ok if this continued back home).

One of the not-so-good things about being so noticeable is always being a topic on the bush radio. This term was coined by a trainer during PST. Any news or gossip travels through the village at lightning speed. I don’t know how they do it. This morning I was breaking news! I woke up determined to finish my laundry that has been piling up around me for days and decided to take my big bucket down to the watering hole instead of the one I’ll usually carry on my head. I think this one holds 50 liters, which is nothing to an amayi, but for me, I’ve just gotten used to 20L and I’m not ready to push it. So I looked around and found my one and only bungee cord, strapped the bucket to the back of my bike and was off. When I got to the water hole I, as usual, was not allowed to pump my own water (mzungu privilege) and watched as the women took over. After the water was filled I gracefully (ha!) plopped the bucket back on my bike, strapped the measly bungee cord over the bucket and started to make my way home. I made it about 50 steps when I hit a rock lodged in the dirt and my bike went down, bucket, water and all. There was this huge dramatic wave as all the water splashed and soaked into the dry sandy dirt, it was quite impressive actually. Luckily I was out of sight of the women at the water hole, but not out of sight of a couple children and women sweeping the dirt outside of their houses. Completely embarrassed, I picked up my broken bucket, re-strapped it to the back of my bike and continued toward my house too ashamed to go back to watch it get filled up again. The women watching me pass sang a chorus of “pole, pole, sorry, sorry” as I walked by with 6 children trailing behind me. I hoped since this all happened around 6am, that that would be the end of it… but no. Throughout the rest of the day I’ve had people stopping by my house apologizing and asking if I was ok. I feel like I can hear people around my house talking about the mzungu who spilled her water this morning… I’m sure I am going to do far more embarrassing things, but I wanted to keep you up-to-date on the latest news via the bush radio!

June 4th, 2014

June 4^th, 2014

Language

Since moving to Malawi, I have learned how to greet people in countless ways and languages (or so it seems). As I have mentioned before, during training I lived with a family who spoke primarily Chichewa, but knew and understood about 5 other languages from Malawi. Unfortunately, Chilambya was not one of those languages. Because of this I was able to pick up Chichewa and tidbits of the other languages my fellow volunteers were learning. I then moved to my site in Kameme which is known by the rest of Malawi as having the most languages in a specific area. I live close to the boarder of Zambia and Tanzania which both influence Kameme since many products and services are imported here to Malawi. As a result, Chitipa speaks over 22 languages. In Kameme, according to the traditional authority, there are 6-8 languages spoken in this small area. We have seen this demonstrated at the start of each meeting, where the first order of business (of course following the prayer), is to agree on which language to use.

My favorite thing right now is learning how to greet people in each of the languages, I’m up to four! 

Here is a small sample of what I have learned:

General Greetings:

-        Mwaghona! (Hello! Chilambya & Chinyha)

-        Muli scheti? (How are you? Chinyha)

-        Muli akiza? (How are you? Chilambya)

-        Muli bwangi? (How are you? Chichewa)

-        Muli uli? (How are you? Chitumbuka)

Morning:

-        Makata (Chinyha)

-        Mwalamusha (Chilambya)

-        Mwadzuka (Chichewa)

-        Mwauka (Chitumbuka)

Afternoon:

-        Mwaomba (Chinyha)

-        Mwalinda (Chilambya)

-        Mwaswera (Chichewa)

-        Mwatandala (Chitimbuka)

Thank you:

-        Wasalipa (Chinyha)

-        Ndagha (Chilambya)

-        Zikomo (Chichewa)

-        Yewo (Chitimbuka)

As you can see, they are pretty similar. Most people will get the jist of what I am saying even if they don’t really understand that particular language. I’ve been told that you can sit in on a meeting here in Kameme with four people and they can each be speaking in a different language, still understanding each other. It is fascinating that things get done here, and maybe why meetings take 5 times as long here compared to the states, at least that is one of my theories.

I’ve also included the speech that I gave during swear-in at the ambassador’s house. Five of us were chosen to speak, four of us in the languages that we learned during training and one in English. The speech was split up between the four different languages and then translated fully in English. I was the last to go, here is my section:

Umuchinzi wabikikwa kale

Mwaghona mwensi!

Ngati bantu be bakufuma ku America sona ma volontiya, tukwikala mu mwoyo uwa kuswigha nu kusekelela chifukwa cha ba Malawi be twabamanya nu kubaghana.

Posona, tukwanda imbombo uithu iyi ni myoyo ya kwighuka. Tukwitikizya izya mbombo yithu yo yili kuntazi kuti nkulu hee, lole tukusimikizya kubomba akiza nukuyipa sana ku Peace Corps naku Malawi.

Twasalifya sana, pakutupa umwabi uwu uwa kubomba imbombo iyi. Ndagha ndagha ndagha!

Rough Translation:

Respect has already been given

Hello everyone!

As people from America, we are living in awe and great happiness because of Malawians we have known and loved.

We are starting this job with open hearts. We acknowledge that the job we will have in the future is challenging, but we promise that we are going to work well and will dedicate ourselves to Peace Corps and Malawi.

We thank you for giving us this opportunity. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Language has been fascinating and frustrating all at the same time. I am hoping to get a tutor in the next week or so in order to better understand the villagers I meet on a daily basis (plus being able to talk to my landlord might be helpful). It’s exciting, and daunting at times to be learning a language that only a miniscule percentage of the world’s population uses. At times this motivates me, when else will I ever have the opportunity to learn such a unique language?? But at other times it is extremely disheartening, what is the point? I will never have the chance to use it once I leave. Hell, as soon as I leave Chitipa, Malawians look at me like a crazy lady when I great them in Chilambya! It’s all part of the game I suppose. I am embracing the here and now, going with the flow, and taking the time to fully immerse myself in the culture. That’s why I’m here, right?