with a landmass only the size of Pennsylvania, Malawi cradles the third largest lake in Africa. most of the terrain we've seen (only in the Central region) is red dirt carpeted by dried grass and sprinkled with palms, fruit trees, huge baobab trees and other various deciduous trees that you might find in a semi-arid climate. in the rainy season, it's hot and the earth floods, and rural people who risk settling in the lower elevations lose everything -- their grey or red clay-brick homes with grass-thatched roofs, their goats or cattle, and their crops... right now, though, it's dry and quite mild in temperature.
i'm sure that just about any time of year, though, people of all ages are walking and riding their bikes all over the place. they fill both sides of the road, carrying all kinds of things on their bikes (like other people, boxes of goods, some new tin to patch up their roofs, bags of maize, or a string of recently killed chickens) or they carry things on top of their heads (like buckets of water, baskets of produce, or a stack of suitcases, to name a few)... in fact, on our way down to the lake last week for a youth retreat with the Ministry of Hope (MoH), i noticed that if folks along the road weren't trying to get somewhere, then they're hanging out with their friends, they're checking out other passers-by, they're helping to fix each others bikes at make-shift bike stands, or they're selling something along side other people selling the same thing (whether it's call time at "telephone booths," fairly used auto tires, hand-woven baskets, roasted mice on a stick, or corn in one town, potatoes in the next or tomatoes in the next) . it's as if the road is their social & commercial outlet in addition to being their avenue for transportation... it's amazing.
another amazing thing is that, amid other war-torn and pillaged countries in Africa, Malawi is known as "the warm heart of Africa." i think one reason this is the case is that its people are so friendly and overly hospitable. you can immediately sense it as everyone always formally greets each other with "hello, how are you?" ("muli bwanji?", "mazuka bwanji?" or "maswera bwanji?"). no matter how often you might meet someone, how many people might ask you in the same setting or whether you've already answered the question, you'll most definitely be greeted with one of these questions at the appropriate time of day... it's interesting because this formality seems to be one of the many cultural norms that might get lost in translation once it's introduced to someone who's not from here.
in fact, there are quite a few cultural phenomena here, all of which would be interesting to evaluate in terms of how they might have been lost in translation (among Malawians) after British colonialists tried to "civilize" their African society not long ago... for example, the immense respect for authority as well as all the formalities around "programming" agendas here, such as at the Ministry of Hope (MoH) Founders Celebration a few days after we arrived. it was wonderful to hear testimonies from a variety of the ministry's beneficiaries (i.e. two adoptive parents, a young man who survived hunger thanks to the one meal a day he received at one of the six MoH feeding centers, and a grandmother whose grandchild regained strength through the care & food provided at the Crisis Nursery); however, as each speaker respectfully thanked each "distinguished guest" and began almost every statement with "ladies and gentlemen," i wondered how they could be so formal while their culture seemed so informal, relaxed, and even quite disorganized at times... it's ironic.
the phenomena lies in the contradiction between people's actions and their attitudes toward organization (as well as their respect for authority). while there are times when folks are very particular about keeping a schedule, there are many more times when they don't seem to worry too much about it, especially when their livelihood or integrity don't depend on it... that's when things just happen on "African time"-- eventually or never.
another phenomenon is the fact that folks here, especially children, typically stare at us and excitedly call out "azungu, azungu" (white people)... then, if we smile and wave at them, they might smile and wave back, but generally they just stare and seemingly wait for us to do something which they tend to then mimic.(i wish i had a better picture, but taking photos is a cultural faux pas and sometimes potentially dangerous.)
as you might be able to imagine, this made me immediately question and over-analyze the causes for their wide-eyed curiosity and over-eager desire to be like us... this initial observation, coupled with my incessant guilt over the oppression for which my white ancestors may have been responsible, made me relapse for a short time into feeling bad about going on this trip... however, i decided once again to let go of that mental vice and embrace a new idea that could explain a very small part of this phenomenon. in conversation with our friend Yohane, i grew to understand one basic reason why kids here might be so eager to check us "azungu" out: that unlike their parents & elders, we come to them wanting to play & have fun rather than to discipline & rebuke them... not to mention that we're different and come from a place that they've only heard about and that they can only imagine/learn more by watching us.
i don't know that i can fully accept that explanation, but it sure helped me raise up the curtain of cynicism which covered my eyes and prevented me from spreading the peace and love i set out to share with the world.
i'm sure that just about any time of year, though, people of all ages are walking and riding their bikes all over the place. they fill both sides of the road, carrying all kinds of things on their bikes (like other people, boxes of goods, some new tin to patch up their roofs, bags of maize, or a string of recently killed chickens) or they carry things on top of their heads (like buckets of water, baskets of produce, or a stack of suitcases, to name a few)... in fact, on our way down to the lake last week for a youth retreat with the Ministry of Hope (MoH), i noticed that if folks along the road weren't trying to get somewhere, then they're hanging out with their friends, they're checking out other passers-by, they're helping to fix each others bikes at make-shift bike stands, or they're selling something along side other people selling the same thing (whether it's call time at "telephone booths," fairly used auto tires, hand-woven baskets, roasted mice on a stick, or corn in one town, potatoes in the next or tomatoes in the next) . it's as if the road is their social & commercial outlet in addition to being their avenue for transportation... it's amazing.another amazing thing is that, amid other war-torn and pillaged countries in Africa, Malawi is known as "the warm heart of Africa." i think one reason this is the case is that its people are so friendly and overly hospitable. you can immediately sense it as everyone always formally greets each other with "hello, how are you?" ("muli bwanji?", "mazuka bwanji?" or "maswera bwanji?"). no matter how often you might meet someone, how many people might ask you in the same setting or whether you've already answered the question, you'll most definitely be greeted with one of these questions at the appropriate time of day... it's interesting because this formality seems to be one of the many cultural norms that might get lost in translation once it's introduced to someone who's not from here.
in fact, there are quite a few cultural phenomena here, all of which would be interesting to evaluate in terms of how they might have been lost in translation (among Malawians) after British colonialists tried to "civilize" their African society not long ago... for example, the immense respect for authority as well as all the formalities around "programming" agendas here, such as at the Ministry of Hope (MoH) Founders Celebration a few days after we arrived. it was wonderful to hear testimonies from a variety of the ministry's beneficiaries (i.e. two adoptive parents, a young man who survived hunger thanks to the one meal a day he received at one of the six MoH feeding centers, and a grandmother whose grandchild regained strength through the care & food provided at the Crisis Nursery); however, as each speaker respectfully thanked each "distinguished guest" and began almost every statement with "ladies and gentlemen," i wondered how they could be so formal while their culture seemed so informal, relaxed, and even quite disorganized at times... it's ironic.
the phenomena lies in the contradiction between people's actions and their attitudes toward organization (as well as their respect for authority). while there are times when folks are very particular about keeping a schedule, there are many more times when they don't seem to worry too much about it, especially when their livelihood or integrity don't depend on it... that's when things just happen on "African time"-- eventually or never.
another phenomenon is the fact that folks here, especially children, typically stare at us and excitedly call out "azungu, azungu" (white people)... then, if we smile and wave at them, they might smile and wave back, but generally they just stare and seemingly wait for us to do something which they tend to then mimic.(i wish i had a better picture, but taking photos is a cultural faux pas and sometimes potentially dangerous.)as you might be able to imagine, this made me immediately question and over-analyze the causes for their wide-eyed curiosity and over-eager desire to be like us... this initial observation, coupled with my incessant guilt over the oppression for which my white ancestors may have been responsible, made me relapse for a short time into feeling bad about going on this trip... however, i decided once again to let go of that mental vice and embrace a new idea that could explain a very small part of this phenomenon. in conversation with our friend Yohane, i grew to understand one basic reason why kids here might be so eager to check us "azungu" out: that unlike their parents & elders, we come to them wanting to play & have fun rather than to discipline & rebuke them... not to mention that we're different and come from a place that they've only heard about and that they can only imagine/learn more by watching us.
i don't know that i can fully accept that explanation, but it sure helped me raise up the curtain of cynicism which covered my eyes and prevented me from spreading the peace and love i set out to share with the world.
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