There was a meeting a couple of weeks ago with folks from a couple of different NGO's. Myself and Jong Soh attended. There were three members of a much smaller organization (The three who were at the meeting are the only staff-people of the organization, and one of them is going home to Switzerland tomorrow after a 2-year stay). The name of their project is: "boNGO," which stands for "Based on the Need for Grass-Roots Organization." They have been active now for a couple of years. They work directly in the community--one on one--hence, the grass-roots bit. A college student who is studying Political Science was also there. The meeting was organized in an effort to bring together foreign workers, volunteers, and native Malawians, who all work in the field of Development in one capacity or another. We met at the house where 2 out of 3 of the boNGO folks live. It is a big, lovely home in Nantcholi with 3 dogs, 2 cats and a monstrous botanical paradise. The owner of the home is a Swiss woman who married a Malawian architect. The house reflects an African sensibility with a spiral staircase sense of adventure. He has since passed on, and she maintains close to an acre of fenced in flowers, herbs, cacti, and everything else you can imagine that's legal, green and lovely. The two hosts of our event rent out a couple of her extra rooms.
We sat down in the living room and we each had the opportunity to share a challenge that we have faced, or are facing, in our work. The first person to speak mentioned that he will be going home to Chicago soon, and that he is constantly confronted with the challenge of how to take his experience here home and make an impact back in the States. The second to speak is a Malawian. He brought up the challenges facing each of us as we first define the how, where, when, why, and then the entire realm of Development for ourselves, and then, when working to cause something, tailoring that definition so that we can actually work together. I shared how my biggest challenge has been to communicate clearly with people. Straight-talk. Once we had these topics written down, we discussed each of them in turn. I was really surprised at how useful the meeting ended up being. It was not formally structured. It was set up by us and for us and we drank tea felt and no pressure to have our agenda look any certain way. Our intention was to understand each other and ourselves just a little bit more. The most interesting result of the meeting for me, was that I saw how each of these challenges exist not only here in the Malawian NGO world, but that they are also real challenges back in the daily reality of the U.S.
The last few weeks have been challenging. Getting through the first month and a half and then through the holidays, I found myself comfortable with the way basic things happen here. Functions like catching a bus. Knowing how much things cost. How long it will take to get from one place to another. Being able to start to distinguish between the sound of a Malawian laughing happily, and a Malawian's laughing sarcastically, or worriedly, or with embarrassment. I made some friends. All of this contributed to me feeling at home.
Over the past week, I've been thinking a lot about who is responsible for whether or not the work I do here has any kind of lasting impact. It's not rocket science.
It is just as easy to blow things out of proportion here as back home. There is an inflated sense of importance. The work I'm here to do either makes me better than I would be if I were at home, or a failure if I'm not good enough. There is an inflated sense of entitlement. The locals look at me as a bank. I'll walk by with no money and they will hold out their hands and demand: "Give me my money!" I have this sense of entitlement, too. "Give me my purpose!" As if someone is keeping that safe for me until I earn the qualifications to hold onto it myself. These are some of the thoughts and realities that have been crawling along my spine, swooning deliciously to be kept secret. But I can't keep doing these updates unless I share more than the pretty picture.
Objectively, there is simply a list of tasks to invest time and energy into. There are statistics to analyze, and a database to restructure. There are volunteers to meet and a campaign to acknowledge them and take their photos for I.D. cards. There is fundraising to be done here and back home. There are meetings at the office. Meetings in the field. There is a difference to be made here.
Since the holidays, I've felt like blaming my organization for a lack of structure. Over the past week, I've corresponded with a couple of folks back home, and I've realized that if I feel that any part of my trip here is ineffective, it is really up to me to mobilize and make a change in attitude and action. The best and the worst thing about the organization I'm working with, is that they leave me to structure most of my own initiatives. But that's the way life works outside of this project, so is it really much of a surprise to find the common thread?
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Friday, January 4, 2008
New Year's
I can't believe it has been almost 3 weeks since I wrote a blog update. Time has begun to reach warp-speed. Next Friday will mark 2 months that I've been living here in Blantyre. Today, I'm going to tell you about my New Years celebration. Christmas was alright. Pretty lonely and homesick, but survivable. I've got my roommate here, and we can be homesick together when it gets to be that time. But New Years... New Years was awesome....
Jong Soh and I went to Mulanje Mountain. We left on Sunday, the 30th. We caught a bus in Limbe and rode for a short hour and a half to get there. Just as we were driving into town, I asked one of the other passengers where we should get off to get to the pizza parlor. He told us to get off with him.
We did. He escorted us to his office. Turns out that this guy is one of the professional guides for the mountain. Mulanje is arranged with many separate plateaus, and has a circumference of over 400 km. I had heard before that this was a famously beautiful place to visit, but not until I was sitting in his office, looking over his maps, did I get just how expansive the experience of Mulanje could be. He gave us the breakdown on the different ascent points, and recommended that we catch a ride to Likhubula and start from there. He explained the differences between the accomodations offered by the Malawian Forestry (he works with them) and the CCAP (Presbyterians). There are lodges available to rent at the base of the paths, and huts available on the plateaus. You can hire guides and porters to carry your bags for you. His strongest nods were towards the Lichenya Hut and it's surrounding areas. He talked about a crater, a stunning view south to Mozambique, and a couple of phenomenal rock pools, along secluded rivers.
I asked him about the Mulanje legends. Some say that you can find fully cooked meals along the paths. That there will not be a sign of preparation. Not even a footprint. These storytellers tell that the food is left by spirits. That you must excercise extreme care lest you literally get sucked into a river or disappear forever in some other way. There are documented disappearances. To all of this, Patrick laughed, and gave his expert opinion about the most recent disappearance of a Dutch woman who was a volunteer at the Mulanje Mission. She had 2 boyfriends while she was there. One was a native, and the other was a fellow volunteer at the Mission. After a going-away party for the volunteer boyfriend heading back to Europe, she went for a day hike up the mountain. Patrick outlined the distance she could have made during that time. It was not a large distance. He says that the locals have always suspected foul play, but that nothing could be proven, and that the native boyfriend is kind of a big deal around Mulanje, so they let that sleeping dog lie. 12 hours after her disappearance there was a heavy rain, and by the time the helicopters came out to look, there was not even a trace. This story along with the legends really piqued my interest in this foggy, vast, mystical place. Patrick volunteered his time and really educated us about where to go, where not to go (the rainy season isn't the right time to tackle the Boma Path, or Sapitwa--which translates roughly to: "No Go Zone" or "Don't go there").
I walked into the Pizza Place ready to ditch the friends we were meeting for the holiday. I wanted to go catch an hour ride to Likhubula and start up with a guide first-thing in the morning. But instead we stayed and met our friends. Well, really we met my one friend and three strangers. Simone used to volunteer for our organization before returning to Switzerland. She has been back in Malawi for 2 years working with a primary school that she has run with a very small group of people in a remote village. Her friend Erica is with CrisisCorps (a shorter term PeaceCorps experience--working with HIV/AIDS testing and counselling). Erica found a free house to crash at over the holiday. I didn't know what to expect from any of them, but I was pleasently surprised by a great mix of people. Jako is from South Africa and came up to Malawi for a job managing the affairs of a plastics manufacturing company. He donated his pick-up truck in exchange for the holiday accomodations. Salma is Jako's partner. She is from Mozambique. They have been in Malawi for the last 6 months.
It was a breath of fresh air talking to Erica. She is adopted. I'm adopted. We are both non-practicing Jews from birth. We both come from a school and a love for campy, queer, feminist theory. We instantly hit it off. Our dialogue reached a point of completely shutting out the others (one Swiss, one Korean, one Mozambican, and one South African), when we started talking about "The Aristocrats," and burst out with a version of "Happy Birthday Mr. President," at the same time. We ate really good pizza, and I pulled out a package of Oreo's (sent from Mo in Ellicott City--thanks Mo!!!). Jako took care of the bill which none of rest of us could do anything but pretend to be able to afford, and we all piled into his truck and drove to a lovely house with mango and papaya trees, aloe plants, and a lovely front porch. There were enough mattresses to go around and we stayed up way too late (putting together a glow-in-the-dark puzzle of a dragon) to be able to get up and go hiking the following morning.
We took one short hike up to Likhubula Falls. We swam in a deep rock pool at the base of a waterfall. I swam as close to the falls as I could get, but the current wouldn't let me get closer than 20 yards. What made this whole experience so wonderful, was that each of these people heard my concern about my first New Years as a newly sober person, and even as Jako drank beer, and other refreshments were partaken of, I was fully supported and acknowledged for my commitment and convictions. I was afforded the opportunity to be a part of a great community, and I didn't have to sell myself out to do it. At around 11:00 on New Year's Eve, we sat in a circle and took turns voicing things from the year we were letting go of, hopes and goals for the coming year, and acknowledgements of each other. Jako took on giving up alcohol. This is big for him. 6 months ago he quit some other drugs which have been haunting him for nearly 20 years. He will turn 40 next year. I now have a chance to support him as I have been supported during this first year of my sobriety. It brightens me up the way people show up in our lives exactly when they should, and not a moment before.
Now I'm back in Blantyre.
Planning my next trip to Mulanje.
Care to join me?
Happy New Year, Beautiful People!!!
Jong Soh and I went to Mulanje Mountain. We left on Sunday, the 30th. We caught a bus in Limbe and rode for a short hour and a half to get there. Just as we were driving into town, I asked one of the other passengers where we should get off to get to the pizza parlor. He told us to get off with him.
We did. He escorted us to his office. Turns out that this guy is one of the professional guides for the mountain. Mulanje is arranged with many separate plateaus, and has a circumference of over 400 km. I had heard before that this was a famously beautiful place to visit, but not until I was sitting in his office, looking over his maps, did I get just how expansive the experience of Mulanje could be. He gave us the breakdown on the different ascent points, and recommended that we catch a ride to Likhubula and start from there. He explained the differences between the accomodations offered by the Malawian Forestry (he works with them) and the CCAP (Presbyterians). There are lodges available to rent at the base of the paths, and huts available on the plateaus. You can hire guides and porters to carry your bags for you. His strongest nods were towards the Lichenya Hut and it's surrounding areas. He talked about a crater, a stunning view south to Mozambique, and a couple of phenomenal rock pools, along secluded rivers.
I asked him about the Mulanje legends. Some say that you can find fully cooked meals along the paths. That there will not be a sign of preparation. Not even a footprint. These storytellers tell that the food is left by spirits. That you must excercise extreme care lest you literally get sucked into a river or disappear forever in some other way. There are documented disappearances. To all of this, Patrick laughed, and gave his expert opinion about the most recent disappearance of a Dutch woman who was a volunteer at the Mulanje Mission. She had 2 boyfriends while she was there. One was a native, and the other was a fellow volunteer at the Mission. After a going-away party for the volunteer boyfriend heading back to Europe, she went for a day hike up the mountain. Patrick outlined the distance she could have made during that time. It was not a large distance. He says that the locals have always suspected foul play, but that nothing could be proven, and that the native boyfriend is kind of a big deal around Mulanje, so they let that sleeping dog lie. 12 hours after her disappearance there was a heavy rain, and by the time the helicopters came out to look, there was not even a trace. This story along with the legends really piqued my interest in this foggy, vast, mystical place. Patrick volunteered his time and really educated us about where to go, where not to go (the rainy season isn't the right time to tackle the Boma Path, or Sapitwa--which translates roughly to: "No Go Zone" or "Don't go there").
I walked into the Pizza Place ready to ditch the friends we were meeting for the holiday. I wanted to go catch an hour ride to Likhubula and start up with a guide first-thing in the morning. But instead we stayed and met our friends. Well, really we met my one friend and three strangers. Simone used to volunteer for our organization before returning to Switzerland. She has been back in Malawi for 2 years working with a primary school that she has run with a very small group of people in a remote village. Her friend Erica is with CrisisCorps (a shorter term PeaceCorps experience--working with HIV/AIDS testing and counselling). Erica found a free house to crash at over the holiday. I didn't know what to expect from any of them, but I was pleasently surprised by a great mix of people. Jako is from South Africa and came up to Malawi for a job managing the affairs of a plastics manufacturing company. He donated his pick-up truck in exchange for the holiday accomodations. Salma is Jako's partner. She is from Mozambique. They have been in Malawi for the last 6 months.
It was a breath of fresh air talking to Erica. She is adopted. I'm adopted. We are both non-practicing Jews from birth. We both come from a school and a love for campy, queer, feminist theory. We instantly hit it off. Our dialogue reached a point of completely shutting out the others (one Swiss, one Korean, one Mozambican, and one South African), when we started talking about "The Aristocrats," and burst out with a version of "Happy Birthday Mr. President," at the same time. We ate really good pizza, and I pulled out a package of Oreo's (sent from Mo in Ellicott City--thanks Mo!!!). Jako took care of the bill which none of rest of us could do anything but pretend to be able to afford, and we all piled into his truck and drove to a lovely house with mango and papaya trees, aloe plants, and a lovely front porch. There were enough mattresses to go around and we stayed up way too late (putting together a glow-in-the-dark puzzle of a dragon) to be able to get up and go hiking the following morning.
We took one short hike up to Likhubula Falls. We swam in a deep rock pool at the base of a waterfall. I swam as close to the falls as I could get, but the current wouldn't let me get closer than 20 yards. What made this whole experience so wonderful, was that each of these people heard my concern about my first New Years as a newly sober person, and even as Jako drank beer, and other refreshments were partaken of, I was fully supported and acknowledged for my commitment and convictions. I was afforded the opportunity to be a part of a great community, and I didn't have to sell myself out to do it. At around 11:00 on New Year's Eve, we sat in a circle and took turns voicing things from the year we were letting go of, hopes and goals for the coming year, and acknowledgements of each other. Jako took on giving up alcohol. This is big for him. 6 months ago he quit some other drugs which have been haunting him for nearly 20 years. He will turn 40 next year. I now have a chance to support him as I have been supported during this first year of my sobriety. It brightens me up the way people show up in our lives exactly when they should, and not a moment before.
Now I'm back in Blantyre.
Planning my next trip to Mulanje.
Care to join me?
Happy New Year, Beautiful People!!!
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