Despite it all: time, history, change, it’s still the same. We are still dependent on them…
I had one of the most refreshing, disheartening, authentic conversations today since I’ve arrived in Malawi. (note to self: once again this is further proof that when I open myself to life the uni-verse rewards me.) I was sitting enjoying some nsima (corn porridge) and nyemba (beans) my go-to Malawian dish (there’s not really many other choices but seriously I love beans!!). When Moffat, a familiar face invited himself to sit at my table (remember Malawians are friendly. Haha!). Moffat works with Save The Children in Machinga District before that he was working Family Planning International, he knows how “the system” works. We had a friendly lunch chatting about America vs. Malawi, America vs. UK, Malawi’s challenges, the fuel crisis, lack of rain…the “cruise control” convo as I like to call it.
His cousin lives in the UK, a college educated man but makes his wages working at an assisted living house now. It’s not good work he says but his cousin was able to buy 3 trucks, and a Mercedes Benz for his wife (here in Malawi). That’s making it (right?). He then began to compare his cousin’s work (although unattractive and someone demeaning for an educated man) to his work professional, esteemed work within his field of expertise yet in the same sense demeaning and challenging in its own right.
Let me explain, Save the Children is currently working in 4 of the 14 TAs (traditional authorities) in Machinga District and this year will be expanding to 7 TAs. Yet, there’s no plan (budget) of expanding the labor force. It’s still just Moffat working in more areas with more results (numbers) tracing behavior change (are you kidding me?! Is that even possible?). Donors are patting themselves on the back with the year end reports of increase numbers. We are SAVING Africa!! But what’s the reality behind those numbers? It’s just Moffat running around the district managing too many projects to actually be impactful, forced to live in a town 6 hours away from his family, and trying to collect numbers of behavior change. I then understood the appeal of the job at the assisted living house, at least you would have something to show.
Despite it all: time, history, change, it’s still the same. We are dependent on them…
The donors come in (and there are a lot of donors. Honestly without donor’s there wouldn’t be ART, Gloves, Testing Supplies, vehicles, basically you can name it…) with these “wants/motivations” to “help” and yet it’s still the same mentality. “This is MY money. I’ll give you MY money but you have to do x,y, and z! I know how to SAVE Africa.” So what happens? Malawians become dependent on donors, on them. Are you really helping or is it just modern slavery? I’m sorry if this is coming off harsh or radical but honestly I aggravated, I’m outraged, I’m sadden by the reality that I am coming to face. I sincerely don’t know how Malawians do it. How do they keep the hope that “maybe tomorrow”. But then is there a choice for the voiceless?
I’ve been so shallow and overflowing with privilege to get upset when a random person comes up to say/ask “give me my money”. What more do they know? That’s what we’ve taught them. Sit, stay, be nice, and maybe someone will help you out.
Where do we begin to change this? Have we so quickly forgotten the capacity we hold inside, that we, humans are all uniquely made beings with more abilities than we can grasp?
Some days (most days) I just want to run home because it’s exhausting facing/living/understanding these truths of the motherland, but not today. Today I went to the grand opening of a Guardian Shelter (where families stay when loved ones are in the hospital). It was funded by USAID, the Ambassador came and of course Peace Corps wanted me to go wave and do a PR tour with them. Fine by me! It was my first time to go to an authentic village. The village women were performing traditional dances and singing for hours. It was a beautiful all encompassing moment. I could feel the energy. Malawians haven’t lost hope in the human spirit, but we have. Maybe tomorrow things can change. Maybe it’s time to stop giving and take a little bit.
Take a little hope. Take a little Love. Take a little community. Take a little time. Take a day with no schedule. Take a chance on someone else.
Someone hit me today, more shoved. I’m fine, it wasn’t forceful. Although, I’m having a hard time working through the many feelings you process when someone violates you and your space. I’m a reactor so I usually start yelling – then the anger starts building and mounding inside of me till I can’t contain it. Every after the moment has past it takes me time to wind down from all the energy I’ve created. Then I replay the situation inside my head and analyze. Let it go. But it’ll come back again, I’ll replay it and the anger will come again. It’s 9pm and I’m still angry about it.
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I went into to Liwonde (20 min minibus ride) for a meeting with the District Hospital Management team to present my work plan. I arrived at 9:30am for our 10am meeting. I met with my Counterpart and at 10:30am we found out the management team was in a budgeting meeting with Auditors (you didn’t know this yesterday when you confirmed?? Hmmm.) so we waited, and waited until 1pm. Then finally my Counterpart realized that this wasn’t going to happen so we rescheduled for tomorrow.
I met up with Kate (another Peace Corps Volunteer and my old roommate) for lunch. Nsima and beans, the usual Malawian eats.
Then we strolled through the used clothing market (to make up for the lack of productivity in my work life! Ha!) and I found a fabulous dress for my upcoming birthday party for only $1!! We said goodbye and I headed towards the bus depot (It’s fairly easy to get a ride from Machinga to Liwonde from another District Assembly member but almost always have to ride a minibus back to Machinga.).
I walked to the road to wait for a minibus that was actually leaving. You have to be careful because bus attendants will ask you where you are going and then take you to their bus that’s almost always empty which means you’ll be waiting for at least 30 minutes for them to fill the bus. No thanks! So I was standing there waiting on the road and two buses pull up. Of course I’m swarmed by guys trying to get me to ride their bus. For some reason everyone seem way more aggressive today, the first guy told me the bus ride was going to be 300 kwacha which is double the rate (150kw) so I said no way!! I live in Machinga and know the rates, it’s 150. He was nice and offered me a great deal of 250kw. No! Then the other guys come up and when I told them I wouldn’t pay 300 (these guys see me several times a week I’m not sure how they think that I don’t know the real rates, but you never know! ). So I said no thanks, I’ll wait. Of out of nowhere this guy two guys back from me reaches over and shoves my head for who knows what reason. I was shocked. Did he really touch me? (Note: Malawians are very non-confrontational people!!) But he TOTALLY shoved me. I’m in shock and look around to gauge others reactions and nothing. Everyone is still trying to get me on their bus for 300kw. What? A guy (he was drunk but that’s not really the issue here) shoves a woman! A visitor to Malawi! and NO ONE, no bus attendants, no one at the nearby store, no one on the bus has flinched or said anything. This all slowly absorbing into the numbness of shock and I react. I start yelling (Hello you can call me the ugly American today!! Ekk!!) and walk away. No one does anything when I yell except try to get me on their bus and to buy a fried ball of dough. WHAT???? I was so irate I was shaking at this point (disclaimer: it’s been a long week thus far. I had been asked for money who knows how many times BY adults and all my meetings had been postponed so I was already well into a subconscious pity party…). I walked around the block not sure what to do. I had to get back to Machinga and I had to take a bus because no one was driving by…so I wait a few minutes and found a minibus that ended up charging me 200kw.
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It frightens me that I have that kind of anger inside of me. I had a lot of anger in Ecuador, quick flashed of unexpected anger flooding my body. Not understanding where it comes from makes it hard to prevent this flash flood. Meditating on it today I realized that I keep telling myself to be present, but being present isn’t floating from moment to moment. It’s truly being OF the moment. I’m stuffing my mouth with food so hurried for the next bite/to finish/next best thing I’m forgetting to chew-taste-swallow.
It’s easy to be present when you’re running.
This moment, this anger is a mirror to myself, a mirror exposing my need to ground-root-connect myself to the moment, to life, the uncomfortable.
