Ewe Thina

Ewe Thina. The audio is of the 2013-2014 YAVs singing at orientation! I love this song.

The third verse made me think of this picture I took in Malawi in 2010, so I laid it over the whole song.

The Sabi Star tree, also called Impala Lily, grows in eastern and southern Africa. It flowers in the winter, the coolest and driest part of the year. It blooms under the harshest conditions.




I've never especially liked the color pink, but this has been the background on my computer since I came home from Malawi. It's a good reminder to always try to bloom under adversity.

I thought it was an appropriate match to not only the song, but the group singing it.

Mulungu ndi nabwino, nthawi zonse!

I love happy updates from Malawi.

The Maize Mill Miracle from Villages in Partnership on Vimeo.

Without a maize mill, women work from dawn till lunchtime, breaking their backs to grind the maize needed just for that day's meals. With a maize mill, this frees up hours of their day to go to school, to address other needs, and eliminates some of the cause of a lot of musculoskeletal problems.

My time in Malawi was so deeply moving, that I know I want a life of service. I'm getting more of an idea of what that means, especially as my current work is volunteer service, and I'm hoping for a career in service to my country.

In the meantime, I love love love hearing good news of progress in the Sakata area of Malawi.

Toms River for Africa

This weekend, my church has cancelled all four of its services to instead have a weekend of service. Today's installment: service for Malawi. I'm pretty excited about this: PCTR is sponsoring nine wells in nine villages in the Sakata area. Clean water for people I've met and sang and danced with!

The day started off with a ceremony in a park downtown on the river. There were songs and my pastor spoke and introduced our partners in this event: the mayor of Toms River, the directors of the YMCA, the superintendent of schools. Also present were Rev. Stephen and his wife Liz from the Allentown church. I was really, really happy to see them. Stephen spoke about the people in Malawi and what a difference this is making. He said that there were people there who were praying for us today. You know, people say things like that all the time, but for some reason this really struck me. My eyes got a little teary--yes, it's true-- as I pictured Bonongwe. Violet. Mwalabu. Jeannie. Countless others. I felt so connected to them in that moment. They're so grateful for what they do have, and so hopeful for what they might have someday. Incredible, and an awesome reminder. I try to be positive and thankful every day, but it's good to be reminded.

After the ceremony was a 5k that I foolishly convinced my junior high youth group kids (who are apparently all also cross country stars) to enter with me. They were all super crazy competitive and ran their 6.5 minute miles in circles around me. One of my girls promised she would run with me the whole time, no matter how slow I needed to go. She actually did stick with me, and we kept a slow steady pace of almost a minute and a half faster than I run on my own. I was sore later, but it was a beautiful sunny happy day.

I brought two types of Malawian food to share: cassava and fried bananas. I didn't even cook the cassava (you might see it called yucca in grocery stores, although it should really be yuca) to really emphasize how bland and starchy this last-resort food is. On the other end of the spectrum was fried bananas (mash bananas, add flour, fry in oil), which we bought from a woman passing through the village on brick making day-- very tasty, but definitely not something that the typical villager gets to enjoy often, if ever at all.

The connection I felt today to that place over 7000 miles away was incredible. I hope to go back and see those people-- and their new, clean, covered wells.

I think this stuff matters.

I am constantly awestruck by the interconnectedness of the little things in my life.

This is going to get long, and I am not going to apologize for it, because I'm writing it here because I want to remember it because it was a cool day.

I planned on sharing my Johnsonburg Presbyterian Center-New Jersey related adventures in this blog. My first visit, however, did not lend itself to anything particularly exciting: Brick. Just around the corner. The boss and I did a few presentations, but then sat with a few youth advisors to act as a sort of sounding board for their challenges in youth ministry-- mainly that junior high kids are buttheads and all that comes with that. I'm fortunate in that my own middle school kids are kind of jerks but it's kind of endearing. I could definitely relate to their struggles and I think it was a mutually productive dialogue.

So, today was a really interesting and meaningful and... words are failing me. I'm trying to say that it all flowed and tied together nicely, but in one word. Does anyone know that word?

My day was really focused on two things: a Presbytery meeting in Sayreville and visiting one of my youth in the hospital in New Brunswick. Close enough together that it was totally convenient. I had a really good visit with the youth. She is a freshman in high school and has all sorts of angst about being in the hospital, even though she really needs to be there right now. She is a great kid and it pained me to see her in a not so great state, which she seemed only moderately aware of. ("I'm feeling better. I want to go home.") I was really glad that I could visit her today. I hope that when I work with the youth, I'm making some sort of positive difference. They certainly impact me.

I left New Brunswick for Sayreville during rush hour, so stopped to console myself with a cup of tea from a Wawa on the way. As I walked in, I noticed a car that was just... a hunk of junk. Probably early 90s, bumper kinda falling off, plastic and tape in lieu of passenger window. I made my tea and spotted a family who I suspected belonged to the car-- kind of poorly dressed, not very clean or neat, not very healthy looking. As I walked back to my car, my suspicion was confirmed. I saw them sitting in the car eating. Something tells me that mom and her two kids were living in that car. I know that poverty exists in New Jersey-- by no means is Sayreville a totally upscale town-- but it's still kind of surprising and saddening to see such an example. My first thought though, was actually a question someone asked me in Malawi: is there poverty in America?

I had to think about that question for a moment before answering the person. Yes, yes there is, but it's different. I think I told them it wasn't as severe, but sitting here now, I hesitate to say that it's better or worse. I'd say it's different. The best example I could give to the person asking was Appalachia. That's kind of an inadequate answer though. Yes, there is widespread poverty and lack of resources in that part of the United States, and was kind of similar to the way people are lacking access to resources in Malawi. But poverty is just different here, and it's startling how it shows up sometimes.

I went to Presbytery. This was the Presbytery of Monmouth, my home Presbytery, so I expected to see a few familiar faces from the area. (By the way, for those of you who are not deeply entrenched in Presbyterianism, Presbyterian churches: Presbytery:: towns/ villages/ depending on the state you're in, cities: counties.) Some of my interactions--

Rev. Gary, from Jamesburg: This is a man I've known for a long time through Johnsonburg. He immediately recognized me and was very encouraging about my working at camp. I'd been thinking of him all day, not just because I knew I'd probably see him tonight, but because he taught me something very important about visitation a long time ago-- don't ask the patient how they're doing. They're in a hospital or nursing home, they are obviously not well. Don't remind them. I was very careful not to ask my youth group kid how she was doing today. We had a very lively conversation going, completely distracted from her grizzly treatment (blood washing, to be followed by a transfusion). The hospital chaplain came in and said, "How are you doing?" and the youth noticeably shrank back and got a little upset. It was incredible how quickly the tone changed. The chaplain was a very nice lady and it was an otherwise pleasant visit but she could really stand to go to the Gary school of visitation.

Dan, an elder from my own church: who shared with me that our session has agreed to support Villages in Partnership in a greater way this year, funding very specifically the next nine villages taken on under this project. Nine villages! Can you imagine the impact of clean water close by? Goats? Chickens? Maybe even schools?

Rev. Stephen, from Allentown: This is where Villages in Partnership got started. The Liz who I was in Malawi with this summer is his wife. It was really great to see him not just because of my general excitement about their work in Malawi, but because Malawi was sticking out in my brain after my earlier experience at the Wawa. The first thing he said was, "I had a really great conversation with your pastor today about some villages." I am so proud to be part of this.

Rev. Barbara, from Lakewood: She served in Toms River as our youth pastor before going to Lakewood. She was slightly before my time. My older brother was in her youth group as a junior high, and I was always really impressed that she always knew who I was even though I wasn't old enough for youth group yet. I was amazed that she remembered me, my last name, who my brother was (and that there was a third child, even younger, even less associated with her work at my church). She asked after Chris in particular though, saying she was even thinking about him recently, having a conversation with one of his old youth group leaders about how youth suddenly become adults, and how Chris always really liked to vacuum, and what was he doing now. Obscure thing for her to remember from only witnessing it once or twice at a retreat or something, but she clearly remembered my brother, which just reminded me how important these relationships between youth and their positive influence adult counterpart people really are. (And I told Barbara that Chris is well-- he is married, and has a house, a job, a dog, and a vacuum cleaner.)

Lastly, but hardly least, Becca, someone I know from back in the day at Johnsonburg (circa 2003) and have stayed loosely in touch with but have always been a fan of. I saw her signing in with her father and we chatted briefly about her life at Princeton Seminary and my life generally floating around. I didn't realize why she was there at Presbytery. She was being accepted as an official Inquirer (meaning, our Presbytery supports and encourages the fact that she is seeking to be an ordained minister). Some of her pastors spoke of her as a youth, and after she spoke a few words and left the room, Presbytery unanimously agreed to support her. I was really excited about this. Becca is a really sweet and awesome lady, and is bringing all sorts of Johnsonburg and youth and Presbyterian love to the table. It was very cool to be there for that.

And now I'm home. I regret not staying for the rest of the meeting.

It was a strangely fulfilling day. The world really is a big old web of connectedness. It's kind of incredible. Whether you are Presbyterian or any sort of religious adherent at all or not, you must admit that the sort of weaving of themes throughout my day was kind of awesome. I'm feeling pretty deeply moved by it all. I think this stuff matters.

And, as a post script following the theme of interconnectedness and community and the fact that I came home and caught the second half of the State of the Union address, I'd like to see more purple ties in the future. I just think it would be a nice gesture.

updates from Malawi

In the past few weeks, I've received a few emails from Mwalabu (program director at Blantyre Synod Health and Development Commission) and Bonongwe (VIP's village worker) through Liz (the woman from Allentown who lead the trip). These emails have been updates on the status of various projects that I witnessed the early stages of back in August, including photos that got me a little teary:


well in use



school being built-- beginning stages discussed here

It's incredible to see progress, even from so far away. I can't explain what it's like to see a hole in the ground or a pile of bricks and take part in discussions of plans and how wells and schools closer to the villages will change lives, and then see these things actually happening and knowing the difference that is made. It's absolutely amazing.

Tuesday 31 August and Wednesday 1 September

Our last full day was spent around Blantyre, shopping, packing, relaxing a bit. I bought some hymnals to share with my choir back home and some other small things. We had lunch at an Italian restaurant, which seemed a little odd to me, but was good. Usually when I travel, there's some food that I'm excited about having when I get home. (When I was in Mexico, it wasn't food so much as having a glass of cold milk!) We had so many different things in Malawi, familiar or not, that I wasn't determined to have anything in particular upon my arrival.

I packed like a champion. Because my duffel bag was so full of donations on the way over, it was very light and mostly empty for the return trip. I even put my second carry on in there to check it all as one bag, just taking my backpack with me for the flights.

We cooked dinner together. After the meal, we cleared the table and played a really lively game of spoons.





I didn't lose!

The night was peaceful and quiet. The team spent some time together before we went to bed, reflecting on the adventures of the past two weeks. I think this has confirmed what I've long believed-- my life is definitely leading me to serve others. I don't know if that will be with the church, or the government, I don't know if that will be close to home or really far away. I just know.

The last day arrived without any rush. I woke up pretty early on my own and took my time dressing and wandering over to the Machinjili's main house, where I helped Liz slowly set the table for breakfast. This is the first thing you heard about when I returned. It was a peaceful morning filled with oatmeal, bananas, papaya and tea. It was bittersweet goodbyes with Bonongwe and Mwalabu at the BSHDC. It was the shortest car ride of the entire trip to the airport. It was holding back tears as the Chinupule Women's group and the Machinjili family bid us safe travels.


Liz and Serah Machinjili, followed by the Chinupule Women's Prayer Group

It was amazing.



PS: We did not bring the chicken with us for our long journey home.

Monday 30 August part two: closing ceremony in villages, back to Blantyre

We arrived back from safari quite a bit later than originally planned (oh, Malawi time), but they held the goodbye ceremony for us. Racing sunlight, introductions were condensed to the group scale instead of the lengthy traditional individual style. The ceremony was great-- lots of singing and dancing, and someone was translating the entire time. My favorite was hearing a song I knew-- my church sings it as "Siyahamba ekukhanyene kwenkos'", but in English it's "We Are Marching in the Light of God". It was nice to have something so familiar.

We quickly presented the hundreds of pounds of donations that we had carried into the country-- the sun was already behind Zomba Plateau at this point and we were fast losing light. We were also presented with a few gifts:


a guinea fowl


the group was given a box of fruits and vegetables. I was given a tool that they use to sift flour, which I was awful at when I helped cooked in the village, but I was just absolutely in awe of this kind gift. Wherever I end up next in my life, you can bet this will be proudly displayed in my kitchen.


the sun setting behind Zomba Plateau

Night fell quickly and beautifully. We said our goodbyes. I sat in the back of Mwalabu's truck with a few other men and a pile of empty duffel bags. As we drove each of the men home (people who worked with VIP, helping with logistics and translating), the stars came out. It was a cool, beautiful night and I just stared at the sky, trying to soak in the incredibleness of it all.

That guinea fowl would become a ridiculous part of the evening. Somehow, once again, I was the only one keeping track of the bird in the slightest. As I rode in the back of the truck I knew it was on the floor in the truck. Then, we all heard a scream and Randa jumped out of the truck (while we were stopped at Mwalabu's house to drop off his children). She didn't know the fowl was at her feet, and then it moved! We ended up moving it up to the front seat with Bob, where it ended up riding for the rest of the trip that evening.

The team plus Mwalabu and Bonongwe went out to dinner after this. The place Liz had elected to go to turned out to be closed, so then we joked about getting pizza. One woman told King Bob to make it so!... and then we pulled into a place called Domino's! It was a little funny. The place did make pizzas but also served all sorts of other things. I had a vegetable curry.

At one point, Liz, Bonongwe and Mwalabu left to pick up the plans for the school at Matawali. It was really exciting to see the plans printed out, knowing the bricks were made and the people were ready. Things are truly moving forward in this place.


Liz and Bob looking at the school plans

After dinner, which took the restaurant about an hour to prepare (which was fine since three members of our party were out hunting down those school plans), we headed back to Blantyre. It was very hard to stay awake during the drive, but I fought the drowsiness in order to spend as much time talking with Mwalabu about plants as possible. We arrived back at the Machinjili's at close to 11PM, tired but fulfilled.

Monday 30 August, part one: safari part two

We woke up early to take a morning walking safari, just to increase our chances of seeing elephants. I woke up before the alarm to the not-so-distant sound of hippos burping, which is surprisingly peaceful first thing in the morning. Maybe it was just the context of being on safari in Central Africa that made their loud, rumbling, groaning noises so pleasant. Anyway, the walk was escorted by Danger, and also Lastone (pronounced Lah-stone, not Last One, but I can't help but notice the deeper implications of the spelling) who carried a rifle. Just in case.


We saw monkeys!


Tree of the day: sabistar. It flowers like this in the winter. The flowers are poisonous, which explains how they're so intact. They fall off and leaves grow during the rainy season into spring and summer.

And then we saw some elephants marching off in the distance!


Danger told us about being charged by an elephant. Shortly after he'd completed his training as a safari guide, he and a friend were out walking when they accidentally interrupted a parade of elephants by walking between the larger group and some straggler at the end. Straggler was not pleased. But this is what you do when an elephant charges (good to know): first, they will do a fake charge. This is to line themselves up with the enemy. Then, they back up. Once they start backing up, that sets the direction they'll charge in. They are too big to turn when running with all of that weight. So the enemy/victim-to-be should then step aside a few meters, because the elephant will not be able to tell such a small change, and will thus go ahead with the charge instead of taking the time to line up properly again. Danger said the elephant ran right past him. His friend thought he was dead though, and went back to the office and told everyone. They were all quite impressed when he showed up later.


me with Danger and Lastone

So after breakfast, we took a boat safari down the lovely Shire River. We saw quite a lot of animals, but it exciting was when we got pretty close to a large parade of elephants!



AND THEN LATER WE GOT REALLY CLOSE TO AN ELEPHANT WHO WAS ON THE SHORELINE HAVING A SNACK AND WE WERE MAYBE 10 FEET AWAY!!!



We watched in awe and took tons of pictures of her. We had actually be called over because a few people working in the office by the boat landing were looking for a bit of protection and the guards weren't coming fast enough. We picked them up in the boat and went back to watch her some more until some guards arrived, just in case the elephant wandered any closer to their office. It was really amazing though. She just chomped away at some leaves and didn't really mind us so much. She's such an incredible animal, it was so, so SO awesome to be able to get so close and just admire how beautiful and enormous she is!

We continued on. Saw many hippos sitting in the water. They can't actually swim, they are too heavy. They walk along the bottom. If they're "swimming" it means they're in too deep water and they're falling. They can hold their breath for six minutes though, which I guess is enough time to stroll back to higher ground.



So amazing. After lunch and settling the bill (surprisingly hard for a tourist destination-- they didn't seem to have a lot of cash to make change with, so it was quite an effort to make sure they were being square with us, though it did all work out in the end). With lunch came my Carlsberg Extra Special, which was not any more exciting than the Kuche Kuche flavor wise but a little bit stronger. We checked out, took a boat ride back across the river and were eventually met (late) by our driver, who managed to get us safely back to the village for the closing ceremony that afternoon...

Sunday 29 August: safari part one

One year ago on this day I was specifically not in Malawi because I was at Chris and Kerin's wedding. I am so glad I could be part of that wonderful day, and everything seems to have worked out for me, too.


My congratulations for these two continue. I love you both so much!

Like August 29, 2009, I spent the morning in a church.



The pastor at the Sakata CCAP reminded us all a lot of the old man in the Six Flags commercials, except tinier and more cartoony. I really wonder how old he is. I'd guess 80s, honestly. He was really kind and actually kind of funny, but he had this twitch around his mouth and these huge glasses that reminded me a lot of Uncle Don's in the Marines:



Anyway. Church was a short two and a half hours-- the sermon came about an hour and forty minutes in but we were all kind of surprised that we had been sitting there so long. This included a lot of singing and also time for translations (which we hadn't gone in expecting but were certainly happy to receive from Mwalabu). The pastor began his sermon talking about how having lots of different colored flowers makes for a more beautiful garden (even if people in the village couldn't tell the white flowers apart). It was actually very sweet. We presented him with a stole with the PCUSA cross on it. He was very excited because stoles aren't very commonly worn in Malawi, or in Africa. He was excited because it would strike his academic colleagues with fear that he is better educated. That kind of amused me, since I definitely dress a particular way when I teach in hopes that my students will believe I'm actually qualified (and not still in high school, as I know my face suggests). We also gave him Bibles and hymn books in Chichewa and English, as well as a blue hymnal from my church (more a ceremonial gift-- I did not meet a single person who could read music during my entire stay in Malawi). They were very excited.

After the service, we shared a light meal and spent a bit of time with the youth choir. Then, three of the women and I left for an overnight safari in Liwonde National Park along the Shire River (pronounced shee-ree), while Liz, Bob and Charlie stayed behind for some more serious logistical meetings for VIP.

Because everything in Malawi is on Malawi time (read: late), we arrived after our first safari drive was scheduled to depart, which it did, without us. But we settled in quickly and were taken out to meet our guide, "Danger by name, not by nature." Seriously. His given name was Danger. "That is the name my mother gave me at birth." Seriously.

We saw some amazing and beautiful things as the sun set.

Tree of the day #1: Candelabra Tree. Not a cactus. Really cool looking!

Tree of the day #2: Mopani. I did not get a good photo of this. Mopani is Chichewa for butterfly, which the leaves resemble.


Tree of the day #3: baobab, which is sort of the stereotypical African tree. There are some on the continent that are thousands of years old. We didn't see any that old, we mostly saw them with some massive scars from elephants colliding with them (sometimes accidental, sometimes as a scratching post).


Water buck having a drink


It was so beautiful. The air was fresh and the weather was perfect. And when everyone would stop talking about how silent it was... it was so peaceful. It was incredible. I loved hearing the sounds of branches snapping as different creatures had their dinners, and the far off groan/burp/call of the hippos. It was really awesome.

We did see some elephants! They were off in the distance, munching on some trees. Danger held up a filtered light-- red light is the only color that doesn't wreck night vision in animals (including humans).

You can kind of make them out-- it's a big one in the middle, facing left, and some babies hanging out with her.

Since we were with the church, drinking was not really acceptable in the villages, nor in the city because we were always with other people from the church. However, on safari, that rule could be overlooked. Beer of the day: Kuche Kuche, which is somehow Chichewa for "you can drink this from night till dawn without getting drunk." Three different Malawians told me this, so I guess that's really what it means. Such a fascinating language. And such a plain beer with low alcohol content that you probably really could drink all night without noticing. This beer is brewed by Carlsberg, whose first brewery outside of Denmark was actually in Malawi near the city of Blantyre.

All in all, a very cool day. We went to bed early. I was kept up for a little while by the sounds of the wind and the hippos and other critters, but I really didn't mind it. It was so serene, and I was excited to see more of it the next day...

Saturday 28 August: school plans and a well dedication

This day had a very slow start. We were all various extents of tired and sore, but we were able to sleep in a little, and then spent a long time waiting for a ride to the village. Liz, our leader, had gone ahead with Mwalabu and Bonongwe to meet with a surveyor and get plans ready for a school in another village. Eventually, Mwalabu came back for the rest of us, and took us to visit the site of the school for Matawali village. Here we learned about the second half of the brick making process as well as a bit about the education system in Malawi.


To finish the bricks, they are stacked into a solid structure like this pictured above. Well, solid except for the small openings on the bottom where the fire is stoked. The stack of bricks, called a kiln or oven, is then coated in mud for insulation and topped with grass. This is a job that men do. They stay up all night for a day or two, stoking the flames on the structure. When the grass on top catches fire, they know the whole kiln has been fired and is complete. They let the flames die out, and let it cool for a few days. This stack has about 54,000 bricks in it.

We talked about the school project with a few elders, one of whom only said one sentence of English the whole time: "You can call me Corpse." I kid you not.


Corpse in the middle

To be a teacher in Malawi, one goes to a teachers college and is then placed in a school somewhere in the country with little to no say. They can quit, of course, but otherwise have very little choice in the matter. Apparently the one thing they all want is electricity in the provided housing. People don't mind teaching in village schools so long as there is electricity. School plans almost always include teacher and headmaster housing. Here in Matawali, there would also be space for recreation. This land was donated by someone in the village.

This meeting took place under what was clearly the tree of the day: a kachere tree.

A type of fig, this type of tree was traditionally where chiefs would hold meetings, because of the awesome shade. This tree in particular was easily over 30 feet around. In a place like New Jersey, a tree that size could be 400-500 years old. With Malawi's climate, I'm going to guess it was probably a bit less, like 250-300. Still. Ridiculous. Imagine all of the things that have happened around that tree. Nearby was the remnants of a structure that Corpse told us was built in 1912. Part of me wonders if he constructed it and that's how he knows that. (He told us that year when we asked how long they have been making bricks this way. His response was, "Well, that building was made in 1912, so at least that long.")



The rest of the day was spent at a well dedication celebration. There was a lot of singing and dancing for a while, followed by many speeches. The dedication itself involved a "ribbon cutting", VIP's President Bob cut a string with a small pair of scissors. Everyone cheered as the chief drank the first cup of water pumped. Safe, nearby water supply. So awesome.

We were given gifts of a rooster and a sack of bananas. They told us this was so we would not be hungry during our long journey home. I'm not sure if they were joking or not, but we were pretty amused.

These people prepared lunch for us, which was very similar to our lunch in Kalino. I ate with a man named Felix who spoke some English, Liz, our leader, and a woman named Jeannie, who is exactly my age and could not wrap her mind around the fact that I am not married and do not have children. It was interesting to see just how different life is. She has a six year old and a two year old. She got married before she was 18. That's security there. Security here is me getting a masters degree and not having a husband or children.

After lunch, I went with Charlie back down to the well to take some pictures. There were a bunch of children there, playing and reenacting the ribbon cutting with imaginary scissors and string. They would count, in English, "3... 2... 1..." and then cheer wildly as one child walked through the makeshift fence to the well. Charlie was having trouble getting a clear shot of it for the VIP documentary, so I whipped out my camera to distract everyone.



This photo cracks me up. Everyone is pushing and posing. I have quite a few versions of this shot, but this one is the most meaningful to me, because the young mother jumped in the back. At first, I was kind of annoyed, because I'm thinking, this is something children do, and you're ruining their shot. But then I realized... she is a child.



It was a really good day in the village. It's amazing to see the progress happening and the excitement surrounding it. It was also nice to end a little early and have a leisurely dinner back at Namangazi. A dinner that included our gift... I personally handed him over to the cook! (...but did not eat him myself, which I almost wish I did have a little-- I have way more confidence in the way that chicken was raised than in our own meat industry in the United States... but that alone is not enough to get me to eat meat.)

Friday 27 August: Kalino Village

The day we have all been waiting for... brick making day!



A primary school is going to be built in Kalino Village through Villages in Partnership. Since we were in the neighborhood, we thought we'd help make some bricks! Most people make their own bricks for a house or school or whatever, then hire someone else to come in and actually build something out of them. In Kalino, they made bricks out of a patch of earth that they were growing vegetables on last year. What does that say about the soil that they're farming in...

So, to make bricks: first, mud is mixed. Typically, women fetch water, but some men helped. Then, we grab a chunk of mud and slam it into the molds, which have been sitting in water so things don't get too cake-y and dried up.



Then we flip the molds over and leave the bricks out in the sun to dry. We did this by assembly line after a while.



We probably a couple thousand bricks. It takes 30,000 to build a modest home (by their standards; in the US it might be more of a nice, big shed). I'll leave you in suspense about the next steps in brick making for now (we got the full explanation the following day in another village)...

After I washed up a bit to help the women cook lunch, Violet insisted I walk to the well and carry a bucket of water on my head. It wasn't an unreasonable request, or even something I was particularly avoiding. But Violet really, really wanted me to do it, just once. We walked down to the well, which was only a few minutes away from where we were working. Many villages have to walk much further, but in Kalino, the Muslim community had put in a borehole well very close to the middle of the village. Violet wrapped her chitenji up into a little pad for my skull to carry the half-full bucket of water that I'd pumped. I felt terrible because she filled her bucket to the very top (I'd guess 15 gallons) and was carrying it on her head without any sort of buffer. I tried to get her to take back the chitenji since she was letting me carry a lighter load, but no luck-- she is a strong but stubborn girl. It wasn't the most comfortable or graceful thing I did, but I did it, and she was very happy that I had the experience. I was pretty happy too, I think mostly because it seemed very important to her that I try.


I am not in this picture, this was a family walking to a village that was further away from the well


The mosque in Kalino, which the well was built next to

There was a little "tea" break with some boiled cassava and thobwa, this awful lukewarm grainy beverage made from water, corn flour and ground millet. I am pretty adventurous when it comes to trying new foods (at least, vegetarian foods) but this was not something I will not be making back home. Then, we began cooking lunch!



The women all sat together shelling nuts and beans, cutting up other vegetables. Yes, I washed my hands pretty well-- I know what my feet look like here. There was lots of talking, although I wasn't particularly involved in any conversation, but it reminded me a lot of having too many women in the kitchen cooking holiday meals together, what my mom often refers to as being very carefully choreographed (and is so impressed how my sister-in-law has joined the dance so gracefully). Granted, we weren't walking around a busy kitchen here, in fact, they barely had any kitchen tools at all, but it was a really great time of fellowship.

Later, I got to help over the fire as well. Here, I am taking a turn stirring nsima, which I can only describe as trying to stir concrete:



Lunch ended up being completely vegetarian, which is just a fact of life for these people most days, but I was certainly grateful.



We had nsima, nsima made with some ground nuts mixed in, rice, cabbage (made with ground nuts, tomato and onion), lettuce (cooked in the sun with tomato, onion and salt), papaya (cooked with salt and ground up nuts), some fried bananas, and a sort of hot peanut butter (made by grinding nuts and cooking them with a little oil and salt). I ate very well!

I joined a Village Savings and Loan group called Titanzani, which means "let's help each other". Basically, a group of friends and family in a village got together and decided to contribute a little bit of money each week that any member could borrow in a time of crisis or just for entrepreneurial reasons. It then gets paid back, with interest, and each member receives a share of the interest back. The money is kept in a box with three locks, so that three different people hold the keys, avoiding any sort of corruption. I didn't have much to contribute and I don't plan on hunting down my cut of the interest, but they were really excited that members of VIP had joined them (Charlie, the youth pastor/documentary maker on our team, is also a member of this particular VSL).

Tree of the day: moringa tree, which I learned about on a walk to the well with Mwalabu. The leaves of the tree, crushed up and cooked (usually with porridge) work just as well as ARV's in treating HIV/AIDS. Incredible. There is a lot of research being done on how to do this sustainably and on a larger scale, but it's so amazing that these possibilities exist.

After a day of hard work, we went back to Namagazi to quickly shower and then visit the Chinamwazi CCAP church for a time of worship and potluck dinner. There was a lot of singing and dancing, and despite our exhaustion, it was really great. We were all given chitenji of our own!


Men don't wear chitenji, so they wrapped Bob's around his shoulder like kings used to wear them


so so so many dishes!


my plate, piled high with vegetables

Dinner was great, although lunch had been a bit late in the afternoon and I was still rather full. I had a pineapple Fanta and sat with a bunch of choir members and youth workers, talking about what our programs are like at my home church and what sorts of things they're up to. It was all very good, but I was so exhausted. Liz rescued me from conversation around 10.30 and we probably didn't leave for another 20 minutes. I was so, so happy to climb into bed after such a long day.

Thursday 26 August: agriculture and meetings

Another glorious day at the foot of the Zomba Plateau


We found ourselves with a bit of extra time between breakfast and heading back to the villages, so we were able to walk around the Namangazi Farm and talk about agriculture in Malawi. You know I was all up in this conversation!



Here you can see cabbage, fish ponds, and off in the distance, papaya and rice. They are experimenting with larger varieties of cabbage here. The fish ponds are fed by a little stream that comes down from the plateau. There are a few wet patches on the other side of the fish ponds where they are growing rice, but there were also drier rice plants elsewhere on site. Papaya is something being encouraged more recently, because it's relatively easy to grow in Malawi and has some great health benefits. It wasn't a particularly well known or popular fruit until recently.

Mwalabu (from Synod) and Nelson (a groundskeeper for Namangazi) walked around the farm with us. Namagazi was an agricultural experimental center run through Blantyre Synod, at least, until the crooked accountant kind of brought them down. The place is still open as a hotel and they do raise a lot of their own food, but the program is not as extensive as it used to be. Still, there is hope that they will be able to return to hosting farmers from the villages to teach new agricultural practices. The emphasis is on "Farming God's Way" which is a transition to organic, low-impact farming over the course of a few years. This includes a switch from chemical fertilizers to manure and compost over the course of a few growing seasons and leaving crop residue to reduce erosion and to continue a composting cycle to enrich the soil, among other techniques. I won't bore you to death about farming. It was a really beautiful place to walk around though.

In the villages, we met with the Village Development Committee and Area Action Committee, leaders from the villages in the Sakata catchment. After many introductions (everyone has to be very formally introduced every time-- this goes for us and them!), long discussions began about the work being done through VIP. They were very excited and grateful for all of the changes in the villages.

Looking through my other entries about Malawi, it seems I have not yet introduced you to Daniel Bonongwe. My apologies! This is as good a time as any. He is VIP's community worker in Sakata. He is a high-energy, charismatic, friendly, hard working, awesome person. With a very, very memorable smile.



In the middle of the meeting he decided everyone was getting to sleepy, and proposed an energizer-- a game called Zip, Zap, Zoom that I actually learned in 2003 from a guy I worked with at camp who was from New Zealand. Amazing how connected the world is! And it was hilarious to see all of these leaders, some of whom seemed a bit stodgy, get silly and laugh together as we attempted to play the game.

After a traditional village meal sans silverware at Mwalabu's sister's home (how on earth do people eat rice with their hands without making a huge mess?!), we met with the village chiefs and the Traditional Authority (another leader who is in charge of exactly what it sounds like). An awesome moment in this meeting for me was that during the introductions, Mwalabu introduced me as "Amayi Colleen Earp". My name is very difficult for Malawians to pronounce, but I enjoy hearing them take a stab at it (Mwalabu always did pretty well, speaking very slowly and carefully so my name didn't sound like rude noises). But more importantly was the Amayi. Mayi literally means "mother" but is used like we would use Mrs. or Ms. Adding the "a" in front of it is an additional sign of respect... a huge turnaround from my first meeting with Mwalabu, when he thought I was a child. Despite being the "young one" one this trip, as I was frequently introduced, it seems that people did respect me. It was a very welcoming feeling.

Wednesday 25 August: meeting friends in Sakata

Click on people's faces in the photo to tag them.

We traveled to the Sakata region near the city of Zomba in the morning along a very rough road for about an hour and a half. We actually stayed at an agricultural center near the villages, but since I didn't get to see much of it until the second day, I won't focus on that now. We dropped off our bags and headed straight to Kanuple, where a health clinic had been built during the last two years. There we would meet with many villagers as we distributed chicks that had been donated through Villages in Partnership.


the clinic, and Zomba Plateau in the distance

Actually, the clinic was pretty sweet. There was classroom space as well as a room for health workers to come run clinics, examining patients and giving out basic medication and supplies like soap. Tree of the day: mango tree. You can see one small one right at the corner of the clinic building, but the site of the clinic is very close to a pair of much larger mango trees, under which many villagers and leaders met with the people from the Allentown Presbyterian Church in 2008, which lead to the formation of Villages in Partnership, which lead to the building of this clinic and many other projects that we'd visit in the coming days. Actually, a few of my teammates had helped make the mud bricks that became part of the clinic. I was thrilled to see such a major accomplishment, but it was especially exciting for them to see.

Most of this trip was focused on meeting with people and talking about the issues they were facing, not necessarily doing the labor and leaving tangible change. The goal was to show the villagers that we are not just some blind benefactors far away, but we truly care about their progress and want to work with them to accomplish the things that they think are most important.


Liz, our leader, talking with some of the village women with Violet's help

Helping us communicate was Violet, the furthest right in the picture above. When I met her, I immediately liked her. She's really spunky and sweet. However, I struggled to have conversation with her for most of the first day because I could not for the life of me place how old she was. Was she in school? Was she married? Was she a mother? I didn't want to ask questions that might come off as offensive or stupid. Late in the day, I learned that she is 20, and has a 3 year old daughter. Violet didn't finish secondary school, presumably because she got married and had a baby. However, she dreams of completing secondary school and going to college to become a nurse.


Bob, the president of VIP, handing off one of the chicks

After the chick ceremony, we toured some of the farmland in Sakata. Our visit was during the end of the dry season, which is usually when the food starts running out from the previous harvest. One of the reasons for the shortage of food is the shortening of the growing season due to climate change. They just can't grow as much as they need. Another reason is because of the lack of irrigation infrastructure.


Above are some small plots that are constructed this way to help reduce erosion when irrigated-- this has been made possible by negotiating a little bit of waterfront land and connected a series of long hoses to the manual water pump picture below! It is basically like a Stairmaster, and once it gets going, it's really quite easy. I imagine pumping water loses its novelty quickly, but it's easy enough for people to take turns, and makes a huge difference in their ability to grow more food for more of the year.




It was easy enough for the smaller boy to work steadily on his own. I think the bigger boy just jumped on to help when he saw all of the cameras out!


We visited with a man (pictured above) who received a goat from VIP, based on his neighbors decision that his family was at risk. He is a pastor in his village (Roben), and he and his wife are sending their two children to school, plus two other children who were orphaned who they've taken in, plus another child or two besides whose father is not in the picture for whatever reason. Pastor Sewula's goat was pregnant, and he gave the kid to another family in need. In talking with him, he seemed very dedicated to the concept of paying it forward. His goat is pregnant again. Not sure what that says about the goat, but it is good news for the villages, who see goats as security.

It actually rained at the end of our time with Pastor Sewula, which is absurd because it's the dry season. However, it was warm and gentle, so it was not a bad thing. The VIP team walked back to our vehicles with probably two dozen children following us. They were excited to hold our hands and walk with us. Unable to communicate with the little kids who haven't learned much, if any, English yet, I just acted silly, taking large steps or jumping or skipping and dragging them with me. This brought so much laughter, which was more than adequate means of communication.


sunset over Zomba Plateau, through the rain clouds