Mouse Hunting

Life in Malawi seems to revolve around Maize (corn). I believe I have mentioned this before, but if you don’t have nsima with a meal, it becomes merely a snack. It doesn’t matter how much rice or pasta with veggies, meat or anything else you may consume, Malawian’s will still feel hungry if nsima was not served. Because of this, growing maize is number one on most villager’s priority list. In December as the rains begin, you plant the first round of maize, harvest in May-July, shell, store and grind the kernels into flour in August-October and prepare you fields until planting again in December. I was able to help with this process the other day. I met up with a friend named Foster who is a Malawian Red-Cross volunteer in my village and walked the 3km to his field. He had already cut his maize down and piled it in the middle of his field to dry.

We arrived around 7am, and we were late. There were already 5 kids standing around the pile working probably there since sunrise. Foster introduced me to the kids, and they laughed at me as I tried to introduce myself in chinyha (as usual). After that, we all took our spots around the pile of corn stalks and began to shuck the corn. Foster started to show and explain how to do this, but thankfully I am well educated on sucking corn thanks to my Iowan upbringing. After a bit the kids started chatting away with each other as I listened trying to figure out what the topic of conversation was. Mostly, I just enjoyed the repetitive movements of removing corn husks and throwing it into the large pile of dried corn while soaking in the surrounding mountains and warm rising sun.

As the pile got smaller, the children’s chatter became louder and more excited. I couldn’t contain my curiosity and finally asked Foster what they were talking about. It turns out that the little mouse nests that we had been discovering under the corn stalks meant money in the kids pockets. They were plotting about how they might find mice at the bottom of the pile, and if they did, they could catch them and sell them to the local secondary school’s headmaster. Mice are a popular protein source for much of Central Malawi which is where the headmaster is from. I have not seen mice being sold here in the north, but I have talked to many other volunteers who have had the unique experience of tasting Malawi’s delicacy of BBQ mice.

Once the mice are caught, Malawian’s take the whole body, sandwich it between two sticks and will roast it whole over the fire; hair, head, tail, innards, everything. To eat it, pop the whole thing in your mouth!

It was very entertaining as one by one, the poor mice tried to make their escape. When the kids saw something move, they would squeal out with delight and immediately begin stomping and lunging toward the ground until they caught the mouse. They would then grab it by its tail and fling it hard to the ground to make sure it was dead. They found a couple of baby mice and would also fling those hard on the ground and then lay them in a sunny spot to die. By the time we got to the bottom of the pile, there was a pile of 17 dead mice and 5 huge grinning faces. Only two escaped.

I think this whole experience is a small indicator of my integration here. If I had witnessed children brutally killing mice back in the states I would have been horrified. Here, it was actually really enjoyable. It reminded me of watching kids catch crawfish in the creek in Tennessee, granted we never killed or ate the crawfish, but the way the kids laughed and cried out with delight every time they found something moving was fun to watch. By the end of the day, they had an extra 170 kwatcha in their pockets, enough to buy msweeties for the whole week!

A Quick Thank you!

I just want to take a second to thank everyone who has sent me a care package in the past couple of weeks! I don’t think you truly understand what it means to a volunteer to receive a care package filled with comforts from home! I have not only been able to eat things that I miss like skittles, Oreo’s, beef jerky and dried fruit, but I have been able to share some of these things with the villagers! Today, I used some of the dried fruit you sent to make granola. I don’t really know if the Malawians I shared it with liked it, but I am happy! I also brought out bubbles for the first time… the intention was to cheer up my 2 year old neighbor girl since she was crying (she’s always crying), and all of a sudden there were 20 kids in front of my house. I spent an hour blowing bubbles for them as they ran around trying to pop them. I’ll post pictures as soon as I have good enough internet!

I knew I had great friends and family before moving here, but you guys continue to exceed any and all expectations of support during my time in the Peace Corps. I feel so incredibly lucky, THANK YOU, Ndagha!!!!

An Addicts Recipe

My name is Britney, and I have an addiction to peanut butter. Admitting it is the first step right?? Peanut butter has always been an issue for me. Back in high school I was interviewed by the local newspaper and one of the questions they asked me was “what is one thing you can’t go a day without?” I panicked and said brushing my hair or something else equally lame. When I got home and talked to my mom about it, she immediately said “you should have said peanut butter! You eat it by the spoonful!” In hindsight, it would have been the perfect answer. 

Worried about not having access to peanut butter when moving to Africa, I had it as the number one thing on my list of things to pack. Of course, being me, it was the one thing I forgot and I had to make my dad stop at the gas station by the airport at 4am before boarding my plane so I could have my last jar (or so I thought). Malawi has actually made it worse…during pre-service training we were provided a small jar of peanut butter every single week! The first week I brought it home with a proud grin on my face to my host family only to watch in horror as the jar was shared with every single member of the family and their friends. It was gone in a day… As a Peace Corps Volunteer, I wanted to come here and help those in need and learn to be selfless and all that, but apparently I’m just not that good of a person. That jar was the only one my family saw. I kept the weekly jars stashed in my bag or room throughout the rest of training. No, I’m not proud of it, but do you see the impact addictions can have on a person’s life!?

Since moving to site things have gotten a little better. I stress ‘little.’ Every time I am in the Chitipa Boma I say I’m not going to buy another jar, that I need a detox, but somehow that magic jar of happiness ends up in my bag again. I have decided to try to follow my site mate’s lead and limit the amount that I BUY. Instead I have been making it from scratch. The logic is that if I work for it, I deserve it (right?!). You can decide, here is the process of making peanut butter in my village:

1. Bike 35km to Chitipa Boma. It’s sandy, windy and usually hot (pity might work, right?)
2. Visit the local market to buy about a half pound of ground nuts (costs about 200 Kwacha, 50 cents)
3. After checking the mail, enjoying beers on the airstrip (closest thing to a park), eating some chips mayai and stopping by the bank, head back to Kameme. Don’t forget its 35km back too!!
4. Start a fire in my baula
5. Roast the peanuts until they start to pop
6. Toss them in the mortar and lightly pound them until they are broken up
7. Throw the nuts into the sefa (sifter) and toss them around a bit to get the skins off and out of the mix
8. Put them back in the mortar and pound until your hands are shaking and blistered, and your arms are numb
9. Hopefully this is the same amount of time it takes for the peanuts to have turned into ooey gooey goodness.
10. Add salt, or if you want to get crazy- experiment with adding cinnamon, sugar, vanilla, chili powder, honey, cocoa, Cajun seasoning, or anything you can find in your kitchen.
11. Enjoy and hope it will last until tomorrow…

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.