.eleven years ago in Malawi.

NOTE: I found this in my drafts, never published. I wrote it a year ago. I landed in Malawi on December 1st, 2011. This is the distant memory of my first day.  

Eleven years ago today, I was in Lilongwe, Malawi. It was my second in the country, but my first full day. I arrived on a Friday afternoon, delirious from the 37 hours of travel, the heat, and the confusion. It honestly felt like a fever dream. I landed in Johannesburg and somehow arrived at the gate for my connecting flight to Lilongwe. There were no announcements. I just stood and waited and watched as the departure time got closer. I wondered if I had misunderstood something or if my gate had changed. For my flight leaving New York, I boarded 30 mins before the plane was to depart, but not here, 20 mins till departure - still not call, ten minutes...five, then right at the time of departure, they began to board the plane. With only a year and a half in the states, I had already forgotten the ambiguity of being abroad.

I landed in Lilongwe, stunned by the flat red soil. Was it real? I staggered off the flight in Lilongwe, the airport in the country's capital was unassuming. A gentleman asked me if I was Aricia. I would later realize that Malawians often switch the l and r. I would become Arisha. 

I said yes, and he guided me to baggage, and there I found two other men and a frizzy hair chain-smoking Brit named Irene waiting for me. They grabbed my bag and put me in the Peace Corps car. I held my breath as they drove on the wrong side of the road with Irene talking a mile a minute. I had no idea what she was saying. At one point, she mentioned Madonna and motioned to a field with a pile of bricks - talking about school and fake promises. Bicycles were everywhere. One man riding a bike with what looked like flat tires and a dead goat strapped on the top bike rack gyrating up and down with every bump. I don't know if I even said a word. She pulled out a stack of money. Telling me she could count money by measuring the height. I got two small stacks for two weeks.

They took me to the hotel with a metal green gate and a guard. I arrived on a Friday and would be here until training on Monday. She left quickly and said she'd come for me in a few days. I found my room, a tiny brick room in the back of the hostel, infested with mosquitos with a small window that opened to the little plot where the workers washed and dried the sheets. I sat on the bed, hungry, confused, exhausted, and sweating, listening to the loud Chichewa spoken outside my window. I drifted to sleep, not waking until the next day - confused, exhilarated, and anxious. 

Eleven years, it still feels like a dream.

.the hero's journey.

On this day 6 years ago I got a plane bright and early in the morning vibrating with excitement and paralyzed with fear - I was headed to Malawi for 9 months with the Peace Corps as a Response Volunteer. 

Today I was walking on my favorite trail, it winds thru the trees and curves around tiny lakes - it's my favorite place to think. I was listening to this podcast and this with Oprah and Liz Gilbert, discussing the Hero's Journey and how people who have been conditioned as women have been told this isn't their journey, the hero's journey and from this understanding we (women) don't always know or take agency of our lives or the direction of our journey. We wait for it to come to us. So many women have followed their role models - their Mothers, Aunts, Grandmas who grew up and got married and had babies and built a home. That is the journey. We follow this journey because the women we love lived this journey and they are strong and wise and beautiful - but this isn't everyone's journey. 

I thought about my journey. I didn't follow my Nana's journey - I didn't follow my Mom's journey. I find myself on the other side of Oprah and Liz's experience. I was given the love + support to live a journey that is very far from my Nana + Mom. They encouraged me to go + learn + seek + find in ways they never had the freedom too. I'm so grateful for that. But I wonder if I am, even on the other side facing the same dilemma - while living a free journey I have felt lost without role models to show me how to live this journey - how to embrace and receive the freedom.

Whether we are following the women of our family or traveling new pathways we have to check into our own authenticity. What do we really want our journey to be? AND are you able to see ourselves as deserving enough to have it? 

The  podcast goes on to tell a story of one of  Liz's close friends who on her 40th birthday made a ceremony for herself to release the bride, to release the expectation she held that in order to be the person she wanted and have the life she wanted she had to get married, so she released it. It's a powerful story. I started thinking about what I would release. 

What have I been carrying around with me? 

Immediately the words dropped into my head - I have to release the pressure + idea of a perfect life. I don't know how to navigate this journey of freedom + exploration. I wasn't given role models. It's been the most beautiful journey so far and I am so grateful for every moment of it - high/low good/bad fulfilling/draining lonely/connected quiet/loud BUT it is what is needs to be. It doesn't have to be perfect (right) - there is no perfect (right) town - there is no perfect (right) job - there is no perfect (right) choice. Allow myself to take agency of a freedom that the women in my life haven't had. Stay curious to new ways instead of holding onto fear without a clear role model of the unknown. Don't listen to fear - perfect is just fear dressed up in a nice outfit as Liz says! 

I'm so curious about how + why people make choices! I'm thinking now it's been a way for me to try to gather data on how humans navigate this journey whether be it with role models that didn't live the journeys they feel called to or living a journey that has no role model. I want to hear + collect these stories. The stories of the Hero's Journey.

I wonder if you've thought about your journey? 
I wonder what you would release? 

.silence.

I went to a book reading last night with Emily Ruschvich, a Idaho native and rural life enthusiast. She said she's always lived in small places and with that also loves rural literature. The moderator asked why she loved rural literature so much? She said "it shows the essence of us - rural life shows our humanness in our most quiet moments." I loved that. I fell in love with her passion and connection to the land here. I envy that connect to a place. She reminded me of the richness and depth of exploration that comes from the slow quiet of rural life.

I remember that silence.

It reminded me of those long hot afternoons living in that big house on the hill in Southern Malawi. The view from the front porch looking over the red valley below and the electric red/fuschia sunsets during burn season. The days with no work and no power. How they felt so long at first and then slowly over time turned into sweet delights. It was time and space to explore and create, a new fruit to experiment baking with or new supplies found on a trip into the city to make into jewelry.

One time, on a trip to the "big" city I found rope at the paper store and learned how to dye the cotton with found spices at indian stores and then wove it into a big necklace on one of those afternoons, just sitting on the front steps looking out at the guava trees and the clay lands while the boys (I lived with a family with two boys - Promise, 7 years old and Osborne, 5 years old they became my local guides, shadows, friends and food tasters.) played soccer with a ball made out of burnt plastic bags. Another afternoon I noticed the guava trees, so heavy and ripe with fruits and with a whole afternoon infront of us I decided we were going to make a guava crisp. I explained the mission to the boys, they had NO clue what a crisp was but with the brief mention of sugar (a rare treat) they were off leaping at the trees to help collect guavas. Within minutes Promise and Osborne were back with enough guavas for 10 crisps! As I gathered the ingredients and they worked on eating the leftover guavas. I went to the cookhouse to start the fire but  realized I forgot a towel to grab the pan and headed back to the house. As I rounded to the front of the house I had a strange feeling - something was different. I slowed down and looked around and before I knew it Promised and Osborne were sneaking up behind me whispering "Arish, baboooooon baboooooon" and there in the small grove of guave trees was at least 15 baboons in the trees scooping the fruit off the branches and into their mouths.  The world felt silent and full and magical for a moment - then Promise being 7 couldn't help himself and was worried they wouldn't leave any fruit so started running towards the trees and in a flash they were all gone - like it never happened.

It's been hard to sink into the silence of HERE. I ached for silence in Somerville but now that I am in a place of wide spaces and deep silence I am realizing how much in 3 years I acclimated to my home there.

.año viejo.

In Ecuador at the end of a year they go to great lengths to build/create "años viejos" which are life size puppets made of various materials - you will find them looking as though they are of the same image as the creator or some pop culture figure. They are then on the 31st surrounded by parties, food, and dancing then light on fire at the culmination of the night to represent the burning of all the "bad" parts of the year to bring goodness into the new year. I love this tradition. Looking at ways to improve and bring more light and love into the coming year.

What would you burn?


I wouldn't burn any experience from this year however you want to classify it - there was a lesson to learn. I would burn some of my more classic tendencies: hot headed nature, impatience, and future planning that always takes away the power of a moment.

ruby jean

This year has been one of the most beautiful years of my life. This year was started in on the shores of Lake Malawi and will end in my hometown surrounded by family mourning the loss of my Nana, Ruby Jean. My year started with a new culture, new job, new country, new continent and to end with a sweet sweet goodbye to the most pure hearted woman I have ever known that raised me with strong values, a servant's heart, and fierce strength. How symbolic to have a year starting with birth and ending with death.

In many ways I feel like this year has pushed me to the limits of my known self allowing for a new perspective. Living in new surrounding and experiencing life in a new transition I'm ending 2012 feeling full of questions and fragile but at the same sense full of hope for 2013 and all the answers it will gather and the new sensitivity to NOW.

I'm so beyond grateful for the company of new and old teachers I have met along the way this year. 
I hope you let the refreshing newness of 2013 wash over you and exhale the truth that all we have is right now.

Much love to you all always.

two of my favorite teachers

.365 days ago.

"Always go with the choice that scares you the most, because that's 
the one that is going to require the most from you." 

- Caroline Myss

One year ago today I was already setting off while those familiar warm fuzzy stomach jitters were setting in, Wenatchee to Seattle, Seattle to New York, New York to Jo-burg, Jo-burg to Lilongwe. I landed 48 hours later disoriented sweaty confused with no luggage to call my own. The birth of Malawi to my life was a groggy moment, with a weary heart and heavy eyelids my mind was racing to understand the local cyclist racing past the car with loads (i.e. goats rodeo tied with their heads bobbing up and down on the bike rack) heavier and higher than the bike and cyclist combined, mud huts with grass thatched roofs, cars driving on the "wrong" side of road (are we going to wreck?!? does this guy know how to drive?) - it felt like a surreal dream.

Peace Corps staff dropped me off at the hostel (called Korea Gardens. HUH? Where am I?) and said they'd see me in the morning. Alone exhausted disoriented I was left in a hot and murky cement block with a tiny window, this would be my new "home" for the 10 days of orientation. The bathroom was more like a mosquito breeding ground with a toilet in it. The hostel staff was yelling outside the window or maybe they were just talking I couldn't tell. I sat down on the foam pad bed staring at the whitewashed walls, sweat running down my body wondering what have I gotten myself into THIS time?
----------------------
Two and a half weeks prior I was sitting on my bed in my big red barn in Arlington talking to my Mom on the phone, it was time to decide yes and give notice to work or say no and let it go. I was ready to let it go - it was too wild - not right - bad timing. But my Mom as she always is in these gut retching decisions I love to put myself in the middle of said, "why wouldn't you go?" so I gave all the typical answers and I said, "Maybe I'm saying from fear that it's not the right time. I almost said no to Ecuador out of fear and I know all the beauty that came from that decision" and she said, "there's your answer" and I (typical Alicia) said, "What? What's my answer?" "you have to go to Malawi to follow your fear".
----------------------
And here I am a year later - Malawi wasn't an easy experience it demanded all of me - some days she demanded more that I thought I was capable of giving but from those sweet uncomfortable moments she has made me a more empathic, more vibrant, and vulnerable person.

I'm SO grateful for life - for open opportunities of new growth - for the privilege to have Malawi in my life - for a support network that let's me "figure it out" over and over again - for the chance to live a life that requires the most of me.

I hope that you too are following your fear!

.no soy yo.

"...yo, no soy yo, por lo menos no soy el mismo yo interior."

.ernesto "che" guevara.

“I’m not me anymore. At least I’m not the me I was before”  

This beautifully perfect imperfect moment is closing and as I watch it slip from my finger tips to below the horizon the powerful words of che resinate in my mind. I am not myself. How could I be? This moment has washed over me and I let its force affect me, raw and alive. I am not me anymore or at least I'm not the me I was before. The moment was indescribable so I give you these simple words to take and understand as you can and will.

My goodbyes have been said, 38 hours of travel is under my belt, and I am stateside. Riding the ebb and flow of change and constantly reminding myself to stop paddling out to the waves. I have arrived to the sweet embrace of my family and I'm looking forward to having this time with them during my transition. I'm a driven high energy person. I strive for the best and always want to take advantage of the potential. Yet sometimes (most of the time) that force can barrel me from the NOW to imagining the NEXT. Transitioning from heavy full moments before I have sprinted to the next moment and along the way lost so many beautiful nuances of the changing times. This time I'm hoping to remember to breathe and savour every morsel.

Every one of you reading this now have guided me through this journey with love, encouragement, and energy. 
I'm beyond grateful.

My heart is so full to think of seeing all my loves face to face, but I'm going to take this space to energize, process, and hold my family tight. I want to see you, I can't wait to see you, but it might be a little bit.


celebrating the NOW.
much love to you all always.
a
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"Do not worry about how you will make it all work. Just focus on how you feel and go towards those things that bring forth joy. When you are living in your joy, the Universe is living joyfully through you. When you are living a life of fear, the Universe is dying and becoming smaller. Remember you are a child of the Universe and everything the Universe provides is abundant. The sun shines rays of joy, the bird sings a song of joy, the tree joyfully grows to provide shade and keep the air clean. Everything has a purpose and when we are living in our joyful purpose we will be supported because the Universe loves joy. It takes a little bit of time to go from fear to joy, but if you stay steady and keep the course you will at last come to see that your joy can be your reality. Trust in promise of joy, it is your birthright."
.Jackson Kiddard.

.fabric update.

It's official...I was called 110% Malawian today! I guess the dress worked!

.new roots.

The Uni-verse is truly amazing when you put yourself out there.

I just wrote about the process and place I am in right now then last night my new neighbor invited me over for dinner. An Italian volunteer working to restructure the Teacher Training Program, Flaminia she is a beautiful long lean empowered woman with flowing brown hair, deep true eyes, and holds an air of the world. After months of dinner dates with a 5 and 7 year old, it was nice to have company. We ate pasta with a tomato sauce and wine. I was wondering if I was still in Malawi…but I’ll save the delicious details for another time.

She has spent many years living in Africa. So we spent most of the night talking about finding that place, a place to belong, a place of contentment, a place to grow. The more I travel and live the less I can find “home”. Wenatchee (where I grew up) is a place of warmth and great comfort, but home isn’t a physical place to me anymore. Yet still in all the places I have lived, I have found a sense of “home” but at some point it doesn’t fit anymore. I told her maybe I just haven’t found the balance yet to which she poetically replied, “Maybe we just need to flow. Life is a process that comes in phases. We have to be in tune to ourselves to know when to move on.” I wanted to just hold on to those words. I have so much fear and self doubt about my lack of ability to grow roots and build a “home” but maybe those doubts and fears are just the imposed values of society.

My home and roots are alive and strong, they just span from the Pacific Northwest to Mexico to Ecuador to Malawi, growing love and light.

Maybe all these transitions are challenging because of that, I’ve rooted myself. I have connected.
Maybe I’m already home? 

                         I’m so grateful for the (much needed) fierce reminder that we are beautiful. 

Life is beautiful.

.enjoy the process and let go of the results..

where we held the trainings. nsanama, malawi.

It’s been a beautiful journey this past week, feeling, reacting, and letting it go. We had 5 full days of training that covered everything from birth preparedness to family planning to how to conduct a home visit with Chiefs, Traditional Birth Attendants, Community Health Workers, and Religious Leaders. In a moment I could have said what a great gift to Machinga District this has been and in the next criticize it all, but if I’ve absorbed anything during these past almost 7 months it’s that everything has purpose. It’s just my narrow bias mind that sometimes has trouble finding it, but that’s because the purpose is far greater than I.   

Enjoy the process and let go of the results. 

Gertrude, the Safe Motherhood Coordinator teaching "Kangaroo Mother Care"
a method used for premature and low-birth weight babies.

Patricia, the Family Planning Coordinator
drawing  the female reproductive organs!!

Next week we will have a second and final training. It will be the conclusion of my grant, my “job description” but when I focus on the imperfections of the “results” I’m taking away all the power that I found in the process. A process that challenged me like never before, a journey that opened my eyes to a world outside of myself, and given me a taste what balance from an authentic life CAN feel like. So today and next week I am going to work on letting go of the results and give my energy in form a gratitude for the process. 

Highlights from training: 

My sweet sweet Azamba (Traditional Birth Attendant) that took me in,
and gave me sweet smiles, daily hugs, and fruit from her garden.
(p.s. I was sick this week and this picture shows it...)

*Learning that the Traditional Authority swears Coca-Cola is the “magic drug” for contractions. 

*Watching the look of amazement on the face of local Chiefs while the Family Planning coordinator drew a picture of the female reproductive organs.

*Having the Traditional Birth Attendants lead us in song and dance before every snack break.

Aid is aiding, but is that ENOUGH?

The first two Maternal Health Task force meetings went off without a hitch. 

Last Monday we met with the Traditional Authority and 42 Community Health Workers, Influential leaders, and Traditional Birth Attendants to conduct a baseline survey on the realities of perceived services and access to care in this area. Then on Tuesday we were back in another area of the district to meet with another Traditional Authority and 40 Community Health Workers, Influential leaders, and Traditional Birth Attendants. It was full days, which after so much “down time” I feel little high to be so stimulated. During the meetings I had waves of emotion passing through me. Excitement that THIS was actually happening, frustration at the lack of sustainability instilled into this structures, gratefulness for despite it all having landed in the lap on a power team of health providers that have supported and walked me through this journey, anger at aid and how America thinks that by throwing our money at “the poor, meek, and tired” we can “save” a life, and a little numb from it all. It’s hard to explain. 

Without living, breathing, feeling, seeing, touching, tasting the reality (and let me remind MYSELF this these biased conclusions I’m eluding to are only based on 6 months of structure and I should know better than to build my house on such a weak structure…) it’s hard to explain this without sounding bitter or ungrateful, but let me tell you I feel neither. More so, my sentiments in sharing this are it to present my truths and my questions. 

Aid is aiding, but is that enough? It’s like going through the motions of life. Yes, you are living breathing but are you truly living?

Many years ago when NGOs first presented in Malawi there was this concept to provide a “lunch allowance” for participants of the meeting (WHO thought of this??) . This was to supplement their time. But I’m sure as you can imagine anyone that would hear of this would enjoy the idea of being supplemented, which leads to attendance becoming dependent on allowances and how much the allowances are…What’s wrong with that? Well, if people are only coming for allowances then can it be assumed that some people are only coming for allowances (aka not interested in the matter at hand!!)? And some great projects/ideas are not being shared/happening because there just aren’t funds for allowances. 



So sitting at the meetings those negative thoughts crept into my mind and spread like wild fire: are people invested? Do these people even care? Are YOU here just for the allowance? I caught myself. WHO is this person? When did I turn into the bad cop or God for that matter, judging a person’s motives? Just when I think I’ve rid myself of the “Ugly American” there she is AGAIN. Ugh. I took a deep breath and let it go.

Feel it all. Let it go.

Because this isn’t about me, it never was. For some reason I was given this opportunity and with luck, passion, and Moreen Ntambo I was granted $10,000.00 USD to help begin to form Maternal Health Task forces. No not everyone is going to be as emotional about the matter as I, but there is beauty in the details and nuances (as I thought I had learnt). The importance can be found in merely the presentation. The training of Safe Motherhood practices will be taking place this week and next. That is enough. For this time, this moment, this purpose. That is enough. 

But the heart says despite my minds logic, is that enough? Is this conversation? The meetings? The trainings? My heart says no, but in 9 months, in a meeting, with one policy, one newspaper article, one donation can I fairly challenge for more? Can I give so little and ask for so much? 

I don’t know.


*************
update: I just read this quote : 

"By letting it go it all gets done. The world is won by those who let it go. 

But when you try and try. The world is beyond the winning."

- Lao Tzu

I think the uni-verse is trying to tell me something.

.full moon.

"Don't give up hope. In these difficult times the sun still rises, there is light on the water, 
and the full moon shines, once a month, in the dark sky."
 Patricia Harman.

Last night the full moon was so bright beaming into my room. Life here feels so connected, seasonal, and authentic. I started thinking about all the things I was going to miss when I go/all the things I am grateful for. The sun rising to wake me in the mornings, the view of the valley, the electric sunsets, the climb up the hill, and the full moon that shines so bright once a month into my room keeping me company as I drift to sleep.


This past Saturday marked 6 months in Malawi and I felt it. It was like it clicked, the awkwardness, the unknown, the "time", the chaos...it seems smoother today, like I've let it go a little bit, like maybe it could all make sense, maybe I could fall in love, maybe I could put my heart into this, maybe I could get past the discomforts and enjoy the now. 

This week started with a visit to the Support Group herbal garden, which was amazing. In just one week they had planted all the seeds, finished the fence, and labelled the plants. I was so proud! We finished the meeting with a presentation on balanced diets.

Then Monday and Tuesday we had our first orientation/focus group meetings for Maternal Health Task Forces in the two Traditional Authorities! It was everything all at once. I'm not even sure how I felt about it all, but it wasn't about me . It started a conversation which was the point of it all and next week will begin the training for forming Safe Motherhood Community Groups. 

Mrs. Ntambo, the powerhouse behind the whole Maternal Health Taskforce! 

Wow. 6 months, but the moment arrived just in time for me to see it, feel it, understand it, and allow it to recharge me! 


Beauty is all around us. I hope you open your eyes and SEE it today.

.as of late.

happy weekend to all you beautiful souls. 


I'm writing with much to celebrate, be grateful for, and to update. As I'm sure you've noticed (or at least my Mom) I've been off line for a while...so much has just happened! The nitty-gritty as of late is this: I attended a Natural Medicine training (amazing!) and using the training to help build an herbal garden with a local HIV+ support group, went on a two week Ladies vacation to Likoma and Chizimulu islands on Lake Malawi (see above pic) so beautiful, our grant was approved, and tomorrow will make 6 months since I have arrived in this country! Amazing! I've been sitting around waiting and waiting and when I finally just got up it all feel into my lap.


The grant: To form a Maternal Health Task force within two TA (traditional authorities) in America this would look like a county within a state (just on a MUCH smaller scale.) These two TAs are known for their high maternal mortality and increase Mother to Child transmission rates. The focus is to start a conversation between community members and Maternal Health stakeholders to look at our data and hear the reality of Maternal Health services. I'm so honored and thrilled to be here and facilitating this conversation. Maternal Health or BUST. The meetings are Monday and Tuesday and then we will culminate our grant project with a week long training (TBA) in an area determined as a high priority for improving Maternal Health systems.


So I'm off to have a late minute prep meeting, then saturday brunch with a friend, and garden planting on sunday. life is in full motion.


much love to you all always.
a

.a thought.

I have found a gentle sweet timid nature of a people that have been oppressed, reprimanded, and exploited. This has been declared the warm heart of africa - but what is the price? If you really watch there is a fear so profound that makes me taste my bitter after taste of privilege. I'm so quick to be agitated by a "give me my money" from a stranger, a bus driver charging double the local price, and the distance placed between me and them no matter what I say or do. Although, having been born into choice and praised to speak up and out how can I be so selfish to look at a situation from my own unaccustomed eyes? Don't read this as pity - any pity can only be for my narrow view I've held onto so tightly for the past 6 month - but more I am speaking of a compassion evolving like a tide within my body meeting me at the shore slowing pulling away by gravity (time) and building (experience) as I part from the shore (my norms).

Malawi has brought me further from home and myself that ever before. I can only hope that these days of exhaustion, frustration, and total confusion will continue to blur my defined lines and fade my colors to grey.

love.

.a blessing.

A volunteer described Malawi as “magical” I found it very interesting. She said you can plan many things here and they just won’t ever work out and then right when you are ready to give up/hitting bottom life happens. Life happened today.

I’ve been reconsidering the purpose of being here. I spend most days chit-chatting at the office while waiting for Peace Corps to call and say “YOUR GRANT IS APPROVED!!” I have a feeling it’s going to take awhile for that phone to ring. But I was coming back from lunch today and I heard someone calling my name. It was Blessings. It was only 70 degrees today so he wore black pants, a black hoodie, and a black leather jacket. So cold. Sorry I can’t get over the Malawian definition of cold. I had on a tank top and skirt and a fellow co-worker said he couldn’t look at me because it made him so cold. Ha ha. Ok back to the story.

About a month ago I had met with Blessings to discuss herbal gardens and how to incorporate them into HIV positive support groups. It was so excited. A skill-exchanging, capacity-building, sustainable project? YES! But nothing more happened, typical. Since then I was invited to ANAMED, a natural medicine training. So when I ran into Blessings I was excited to catch up and share with him about this development. He was thrilled and started talking about how we could incorporate this into working in Machinga (where I live). That means I can walk there, no minibuses for me! Wahoo! So this Sunday I’m meeting with a support group in Machinga and going to ask for a volunteer to attend the natural medicine training that we can later train the group. Wow! That’s magical. Nothing I planned. I’ve tried to find work. But it’s Malawi so it happens when it happens.

UPDATE:
Sunday I was trying to get a hold of Blessings to confirm that we were actually going to see the group. No answer. I spent the weekend in Zomba (40 mins southeast of Machinga). It was a wonderful weekend filled with a 7 hour hike on the Plateau, which is one of the most beautiful places I’ve been in Malawi. The lookout literally took my breath away (see picture above!).

So Sunday morning I was enjoying endless cups of French press coffee, fresh baked bread, and good company! What a treat! I really just wanted to stay and chat but Malawi logic is that if I don’t go back to Machinga Blessings will be there. So I headed back despite the fact that he wasn’t answering his phone. The minibus was about 5 mins outside of Machinga and my phone rings…Blessings. Haha. I just had to laugh. THIS is Malawi. So we met up and went to visit the group. It was beautiful. The Women greeted us with song and dance. The group only speaks Chichewa but Blessings was kind enough to translate for me. We took a tour of the herbal garden, which was small but a great start. They are even growing a vegetable garden for an income generating activity. It was so empowering to see these Women despite it all: health, stigma, gender issues…standing up and rising together. I feel blessed to have met them and look forward to working with them and the garden. They came into my life just when I needed them. If we only understood what we can give each other oh! what a world we would live in!!

Then this morning I read this: “We already have everything we need to be magnificent; it is simply a matter of allowing ourselves to be who we are. Suffering comes from own resistance to being who we are. And so I am brought back to the questions of how and why I am choosing to suffer? Having felt the job of doing what I was meant to do, and having witnessed that job in other as they allowed themselves to stand authentically in the world, I can only wonder: From whence comes this attachment to suffering? What beliefs hold me back? What patterns drain me? Do I trust the inevitability of success when I say yes to my dharma?…The questions will be followed by answers, the answers by actions , and the actions by growth.”

Much love to you all always.
a

.a moment.

“Our days are numbered. At this very moment, many thousands are born into the world, some destined to life only a few days or weeks, and then tragically succumbed to illness or other misfortune. Others are destined to push through to the century mark, perhaps even a bit beyond, and savor every taste life has to offer: triumph, despair, joy, hatred, and love. We never know. But whether we live a day or a century, a central question always remains: What is the purpose of life? What makes our lives meaningful? The purpose of our existence is to seek happiness.”

This is probably going to sound odd because it was such an internal experience but I want to share it just the same. I’ve felt a lot of movement inside of myself lately. Changes coming from within, a paradigm is shifting. I feel hungry for something and with such timing a friend let me borrow “The Art of Happiness” by the Dalai Lama. I sat down this morning enjoying a fresh avocado and black tea with a little bit of milk when I came upon this statement. I don’t know why but instantly I felt something move through me and big soft tears started rolling down my face and then it released itself of me and I felt lighter. They weren’t tears of sadness for the brevity of life or even for the trying journey we embark on seeking happiness, but for actually being able to feel the gravity and fragility of life. Being called to live, being given (for some reason) the chance for another day to live, for undeservingly being able to wake up to the sun shining in my room, to share my pathway with so many beautiful spirits whether it’s for a moment or a lifetime - connecting. The moment held such power.

Life is beautiful.

.weekendy.

It’s the weekend. With the recent passing of the President here things are somber. We are awaiting the arrival of the body from South Africa. There been a dancing ban placed until the burial of his Excellency. Err. WHAT? What is a girl to do for the weekend?? I guess it’s another action packed weekend of cooking and endless rounds of “uno” with my boys.

Everything is interconnected. Being here it’s a humbling reminder each and every day that 1. I have NO clue what is going on. and 2. I can’t control anything. For a double fire sign (Solar – Aries/ Lunar – Leo…if you’re into that) this is the toughest lesson to learn. Honestly, I’m relearning it each day. Fresh and new, knocked down, and scolded when I try ONCE again to make a plan.

Last weekend I planned a BIG “Wear your Astrological Sign” (ok I’m not super into this stuff, but it’s a good conversation piece and it’s a fun theme. I’m not changing my name to moon child anytime soon…). I was so excited I painted watercolor backdrops for an impromptu photo booth, wrote fortunes, planned the menu, made a new playlist…and then the President died. Peace Corps issued that we stay in-site and refrain from travel, in case there was any sort of reaction. What? My plan was knocked down in a matter of minutes. I had been planning this for weeks, looking forward to showing off the pioneer mansion and sharing delicious Mexican eats with friends. I was super bummed. “Nothing ever works out here” might’ve been one of the aggravating thoughts floating through my mind. But as constant as variables are in my life, it always works out. It wasn’t a big party, but it was just what it was suppose to be. I shared the night with 4 great volunteer friends and 2 guys that I work with. It turned into a wild night of dancing, eats, and endless photo booth. And I remembered, 1. I have NO clue what is going on. and 2. I can’t control anything. Dang it! It’s another friendly reminder from the Uni-verse. I get it. I get it. It’s just going to take a while for me to relearn this truth.

Much love to you always.

.guilty.

I think it was destiny that my birthday fell on market day. If you haven't heard already market day is my favorite day of the week/event in Malawi. It's a day where tons of people in Liwonde (the big town) or smaller surrounding villages come with their produce and used clothes to sell!

I was told before I arrived to Malawi, "don't bring a lot of clothes because the used clothing market is great." It seemed like a strange concept. Used clothes? From where? Nothing is made IN Malawi.  But sure enough I arrived and there is a GREAT used clothing market. Name brand, vintage, and Euro funky clothes. WHAT?

So the story I've heard is that Malawi receives a lot of clothing donations from all over (it's funny because you can almost tell week by week where the clothes are coming from depending on the style...USA (I found a brand "Don't Mess With Texas" once. ekk.), Italy, India, etc.). Being creative entrepreneurs, Malawians have turned this into an opportunistic economy.The distributors sell clothes off by the bundle to independent vendors who come out every week and sell sell sell...bras, pants, scarfs, curtains, tablecloths, jackets, sheets, dresses, costumes, you name it! It like Goodwill on crack. swoon!!

So I hit it up yesterday and no surprise I found several things I don't need and now my floor looks like some Grandma's closet exploded. oops!

.t w e n t y e i g h t.

Some days I feel stronger, more authentic, more vibrant, and more conscious than I’ve ever felt in my entire life and then there are many moments I’m lost, crushed, weak, confused, and powerless. But then I'm beginning to think maybe those are all one. The more lost I become the more aware of myself I am, the weaker I feel the more connected I am to this soil beneath my feet and the breath of air in my lungs, maybe the more confused I get the most likely I am to let the uni-verse direct me. Maybe just maybe less of me is more.

I feel beautiful in this moment of life, this celebration of 28 years.

I came across this the other day and found it fitting for a birthday reflection:
“Remember: YOU get to decide what’s true for you. So - What does your heart want? What is your soul yearning for? Can you step into a new story and not allow what others think to hold you back?”

These are powerful questions to me, to enunciate the wants and ways of my heart. Through this journey I’ve seen light and dark – near and far, in the known and unknown, in the beautiful and ugly, in the moment and the memory. It’s ever changing and all encompassing. I’ve come to realize that I can’t find my heart’s wants in the tangible.

I want to be present, I want a connection, I want a freedom, I want strength in myself to repeal the energy from outside. I want to anchor my sailboat with my own means and look out with my eyes to see the view. I want to dispose of my labels and judgments. I want my words to have weight. I want to greet you with an open heart, share myself in a new light, a new truth. 

This year brings more experiences in Malawi, the aspiration of farming my grandpa’s orchard with my sister (more on that later...), and the thoughts of midwifery in my future. I am grateful.

Much love to you all always.

.give and take.

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.

.weekend.visits.

A college friend visited the pioneer mansion this weekend and it was so refreshing. We haven’t seen each other in a while but that doesn’t matter when you connect with someone. The older I get the more I find the power in the moment, in the now. Some things don’t need fostering - just presence.

Erin, was a Peace Corps volunteer in Uganda and was a fabulous African cultural translator for me. I’ve really been challenged by the passive nature of Malawian culture, by the “place” of a woman, and the concept of time. Erin offered me the space to discuss and ask her about ideas/situations, she was so honest and offered such genuine compassion in her responses. I’m really grateful for her visit.

Talking with her I realized that my frustrations have become a part of my experience. I’ve held on to them, identified with them. I returned from Ecuador 3 years in August, and this weekend I realized that despite my ego’s telling I have put my American glasses on again. It challenging being here, I don’t speak the language (English is spoken but it’s limited and different), I didn’t have a host family, I mostly mingle with the local government workers (college educated Malawians), leaving me feeling detached and objective. I think because of this it’s been easy to keep my American glasses on (without even knowing). It’s a long road, I’m not sure if I even know how to take off my American glasses here but consciousness is the first step.

This week I’m grateful for honest conversations and friendly reminders to look at life from another angle.

What are you grateful this week?