Day 12 – Friday, June 20, 2008

Today was my last time of slashing with the regulars, so I asked Sandy Lu to get some pictures of us together. These three men have been the most constant workers when I’ve been there, although there have been others. Matthews is the best English speaker and the spokesman of the group when David Schaffer comes along to check on things. Emanuel is about my height, but twice as strong. One swing of his blade will fell about four times as much as what I can do. Kanean is smaller and quieter, but he can still plow through the grass like a weed eater. I’m glad to be done with slashing, but I’ll miss these guys.

Kanean, Emanuel, me, and Matthews

Die, grass!

After slashing (which was cut short due to a morning downpour) I went to the JSS to see what Deb might like me to teach this afternoon. She handed me a couple lessons on nutrition, and I set about preparing a 50-minute lesson. All in all, it went pretty well. But one thing really stuck out to me. I started the lesson by asking the girls to list some diseases (the point being to draw a distinction between diseases of infection and those of malnutrition), and here are some of the first suggestions I got: marasmus, kwashiorkor, anemia (more a symptom than a disease, but still…), goiters, cholera, and syphilis (malaria and HIV came up as well). Were I to ask the same question of some junior high girls in the U.S., I’m guessing I’d get answers such as the flu, pneumonia, cancer, diabetes, and heart disease. They probably wouldn’t ever have heard of marasmus or kwashiorkor, let alone know that they were diseases. What does that tell you about the disparity of health conditions between the America and Africa? Indeed, the JSS girls’ answers were a perfect way to start a lecture on nutrition. The first four items in their list are largely caused by malnutrition, and they were familiar with them!! The only reason I knew what they were talking about (in the cases of marasmus and kwashiorkor) is because I briefly studied them in my first year of medical school. I went on with the lesson, but today was clearly a case of the teacher learning more than the students.

Day 11 – Thursday, June 19, 2008

Most of my day was rather mundane. In the morning I slashed for about an hour (I still don’t know how those guys do it all day long) before it started to rain. I then went to the Junior Secondary School and covered textbooks for most of the rest of the day. So work-wise, it was a rather humbling day. In the mid-afternoon, one of the national teachers, Lancaster, came by to help me. He teaches Chichewa (one of the national languages of Malawi, along with English) and Bible to the girls. When I told him that I was in medical school, he said that Malawi has a shortage of doctors. This confirms my impressions from my trip to the Mzuzu hospital yesterday. Lancaster has a son who just finished high school with high marks, and he has applied to the one medical training school in the country. Admissions is very competitive which makes sense if there is only one medical school for the nearly 14 million people living here. Still, it’s a tough way to meet the medical demand of the country.

From about 3:30 to 4:45 I played with a bunch of the children at the village playground. Even though my time with the kids has been limited to mostly meals and playtime, they have no reservations about using me as part of the play equipment. That’s something I’ll really miss: tons of kids who want to be around me and play with me just because I’m there. They have a great joy about them, even though they all come from broken homes. But God has used Rafiki to pick up the broken pieces of all these families and put together a beautiful mosaic. I pray that these children and mamas will be real families for each other for the rest of their lives. The need for family doesn’t stop once one reaches the age of 20, 40, 60…

One of the girls from Mama Rose’s house (where I shared in devotions last night) asked me to come back to their table to eat dinner. How could I refuse? They tested me to see if I could remember their names, and I failed miserably. But we went over all of them again, and I think I got it down: Caroline (one of the older girls in the village, with a wise face), Ruth (BIG smiles from a little girl), Fiskane (pronounced fis-KAH-nee), Joseph (who finally gave me a smile tonight!), Judith (perhaps the cutest little girl in the village, although there are a lot of cute children here), Emily (also very young and very sweet), Rachel (didn’t finish her milk), Spencer (5 years old and actually one of the first two children in the village), Christopher (already getting his adult teeth, which he shows often with his smiles), and Ethel. This last girl was the one to invite me back to their table tonight, and she gave me her necklace that she got earlier that day in school. (All of the Standard 1 children received necklaces of yarn with a glow-in-the-dark cross pendant!) She said I could give it back to her tomorrow. I’m glad that I was able to have a little more time with these children. Last night during devotions they all seemed to have a slightly sad quality about them, but tonight they were very cheerful. They especially liked all the funny faces that I make for them—something that has always broken the ice during my time here. Nick DelVillano may be the shining star trumpet-playing uncle, but I make the best funny faces!

The end of my trip has kind of snuck up on me. I only have two more days here, and one of those days will be largely spent packing and buying a few more souvenirs. Lord, in the time I have left, please put a lasting impression of this place and these people on my heart.

Day 10 – Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Today was pretty full, and just saying that feels like an understatement! In the morning I almost completed refinishing the wood doors on several of the ROS houses. (I still have one more coat to do on one door.) Around noon Eileen took Mama Abigail and me to the Mzuzu Central Hospital. Mama went to visit her niece, and I went just to see what the hospital was like. My impressions were that it seemed like a very nice facility, but there seemed to be a real dearth of doctors and nurses. From what I’ve read in that AIDS in Malawi book, it’s was difficult in the 80’s and 90’s to keep medical clinics and hospitals staffed with nurses because they were dying of AIDS (hopefully not acquired through their work) faster then new ones could be trained. It’s now several years beyond that point, and the knowledge/experience gap is readily apparent. We met a British medical trainer there, and she stated that when she had arrived a few months ago, many of the nursing students there were working unsupervised!

This afternoon during the children’s playtime, I helped Rebecca and Nick in “gazebo time,” when they lead the children in singing and dancing. I had missed this time last Wednesday, and this time around I made sure to be there. Nick was about a half hour late, so Rebecca and I held down the fort, so to speak, as best we could. I tried my bread-and-butter song, “The other day I met a bear,” but for the most part the kids just stared while I belted out my part. The kids liked our American songs well enough, but they really got going when the Mamas led them in their own songs. It was tons of fun, and I really regret that I won’t be around for another Wednesday song time.

At dinner, we were treated to an even more spectacular scene. One of the kitchen workers, Eden, was finishing his last day here before his wedding in two weeks. As a send-off, one of his co-workers, Nation, gave a short speech in Eden’s honor. Then he asked the Mamas and the children to sing a particular song. Their voices filled the dining hall and reverberated all around in a traditional Malawian melody, and their feet moved in unison in a simple dance. We later learned that the song declared the goodness of God, but I didn’t need any interpreter to tell me that the song was sung to His honor. I found myself yearning for heaven, where all peoples will raise their voices in praise to our God and King.

Tonight, I went to Mama Rose’s cabin to be a part of their evening devotions. Her ten children ranged in age from about two to seven or eight, I’m guessing. Big, soulful eyes looked up at me as I read a couple stories from their children’s Bible (Wicked Judas and Moses Leads the People Through the Red Sea). I sensed a certain sadness during our time together, especially as Mama Rose learned that I would be leaving on Sunday. She asked me to remember them in my prayers. It was at that point that I realized how difficult life is here, even for those living in the Rafiki village. Mama Rose seemed so tired as she asked me this that I felt ashamed of my life of comfort and relative ease. It’s easy for me to think that she and I are both doing work for the sake of these children (and we are), but the reality is that her work is of much more importance. Her work also has no end in sight, and mine will be done in a few days. The least that I can do is pray for Mama Rose, her children, and all of the rest here. God is the one who will sustain the ROS, the Mamas, and the rest of the workers here. God is the one who will establish this work and ultimately raise these children up to do His will in this world. All that I can do is pray for them and obey the Lord as he reveals His will for my family and me.

What a rollercoaster of emotions and experiences today! I can’t quite make sense of it all, but I don’t know if that’s required of me right now. What is important is that I get some good rest so that I’m ready for what tomorrow brings.

Day 9 – Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Today my only job was to work on refinishing some of the wood doors. Exposure to the elements here has taken its toll, and some aspects of upkeep have fallen by the wayside. The ROS were very thankful for my work, so I’m glad that my work is helpful to them. Later in the evening, had Bible study with ROS, and realized that I’m very grateful for some defined, physical tasks to focus on. I've just been feeling overwhelmed with the enormity of things here: the children, the work to do, and most of all the needs of Malawi outside these walls. I really don’t know how to take it all in or even where to begin. Having small things to do here (like working on the doors, printing out a new recipe system, etc.) not only occupies my time, but it also makes me feel like I’m chipping away at the bigger problems.

Tonight I got a chance to see the clinic here in the village. There's only one nurse here right now, Eileen, but it's been a long time since she's worked as one, and she's never done it in a setting like this before! She prays every day for wisdom about how to diagnose and treat each case she sees among the children and the workers. As she puts it, she gets enough mana to make it through each day. Last night she showed me a microscope slide of a blood smear that she used to diagnose a malaria infection. It was pretty cool! Tomorrow, she's going to let me come along to the central hospital in Mzuzu. From what I've heard it's a decent place, and they treat emergencies for free. The only catch is that you have to provide your own transportation there, which can be nearly impossible if you're in a medical emergency.

Day 8 – Monday, June 16, 2008

There’s not much to report for today. I slashed for ~1 hour in the morning, and I think I’m getting better at it. Matthews, the chief slasher, had to redo my area only once! Still, I had to quit after my hands got too raw, even while wearing some heavy cotton gloves. (The other workers, of course, wear no gloves.)

Most of the day was spent working on organizing the village’s electronic records of recipes for the children’s meals. Food is obviously a major endeavor here. Each child gets three meals plus two snacks throughout the day. All of the recipes have scalable amounts, for between 80 and 200 servings (although the average is probably 100 for any given meal). Paul, who inherited the kitchen supervisor position (among about 3 other jobs he does), enlisted my help for organizing and printing out a notebook of recipes for easy reference. It didn’t seem like that important of a job, but when I was done the head kitchen worker, Nation (cool name, eh?), was VERY appreciative. Apparently their current system of looking up recipes is a complete mess.

I found out today that one of the children in the village has mumps. Apparently it’s been going around in one of the cottages here, despite Eileen’s (the nurse) best efforts to quarantine sick children. I haven’t learned much about mumps yet, but I bet there’s a time when the child is mostly asymptomatic but still infectious. One theory in situations like this is to intentionally expose the other children to the disease so that they all get sick (and thus acquire immunity), but I think that would be a nightmare for the mothers and workers here, to say nothing of possible complications of the disease. Plus, I’ve learned that one of the children actually does have HIV (I don’t know who it is, but I’m told he or she is doing fine with medication). Purposefully exposing that child to any disease would not be a good idea.

This brings up another thought about one of my earlier comments about poverty in this country. I stated that Malawi was probably having serious problems because of corruption in the government, and this is largely true. Foreign aid does not go where it should in most cases, and the people suffer as a result. There is, however, a second major cause of economic hardship here, and that of course is HIV/AIDS. I read in a book on AIDS and Malawi last night that the explosion of AIDS here has not hit all socioeconomic levels equally. And contrary to what one might guess, it is the people of higher education and training who are more at risk. Once I think about this, however, it does make sense. Those with more training will have jobs in the cities and have more opportunity for access to prostitution or have multiple partners who might be infected. The end result is that Malawi has selectively lost a huge number of highly skilled and trained workers. Given the rapidly evolving landscape of the international business world, this is especially bad for the economic future of the country.

International health policy also had a profound impact on the spread of HIV, or at least on the inability to contain it. Much of the foreign aid to Malawi came from organizations that decided it was an invasion of privacy to test someone for HIV without their consent. If Malawi wanted to continue receiving aid, it would have to abide by this standard. But since having HIV carries a heavy stigma, hardly anyone wanted to be tested. Thus, HIV spread silently for years, and health workers couldn’t do much of anything to stop it. When no other explanation could be given for a patient’s illness, it was presumed to be AIDS, but no proof could be obtained.

Enough on this for now. It’s a highly complex issue, and one that I am just beginning to understand.

Day 7 – Sunday, June 15, 2008

Happy anniversary, Maria! And happy Father’s Day, Dad and Dad-in-Law! It was tough being so far away from family today, and I’m anxious to get back home. This morning I opened up a few presents that my brilliant wife, Maria sent along with me. Why brilliant? She thought ahead to what I might be missing most after one week here, and packed it away for me: some sour gummy worms, a packet of beef jerky, and my favorite cereal, Craklin’ Oat Bran. The coup de grace, so to speak, was a Hallmark card with Maria’s and Will’s recorded voices! What a great woman!

Today was also the only Sunday that I will be here, so I was very curious how church would go. Rafiki makes a point of not having a church or chapel on the grounds. Thus, the ROS and the children get a good deal of exposure to the body of Christ in the community. There are three churches go to, and today I went to Katawa Presbyterian. For many reasons, it was a very interesting experience. First, there is often a power outage on Sundays, and today was no exception. They did have a generator working, however, so there were working microphones and speakers. Second, they had FIVE different choirs perform! Each choir sang a sort of “entrance” song, which was sung while they moved and danced to the front of the sanctuary. My favorite songs were the ones sung completely acappella, but most of the time a keyboard (with drum beat) was used as accompaniment. The sermon was quite bizarre, consisting of the (visiting) pastor shouting into the microphone (and thus getting all distorted) about how the people there needed to be practical Christians, not nominal Christians. That’s all well and good, but I don’t think he ever went into any depth on what it means to be a practical Christian. Plus, the topic for the sermon had nothing to do with the scripture readings for the day. As he was preaching, I realized why Rafiki was starting to set up periodic pastors' conferences for training some of the local ministers on biblical teaching.

For lunch, Debbie and Susan took us out to A1, one of the two restaurants in town that the most of the ROS trust (although David warned me that his last trip there resulted in two days of intestinal issues!). I ordered a dish that Susan highly recommended, even though she said, “It looks like creamed Kermit.” Indeed, it was a deep, vibrant green, but it was also very good (after I added some hot spices).

In the afternoon, one of the choirs from Katawa came to the Rafiki village to record some video of them dancing in a beautiful setting. They also gave dance lessons to some of the 6 and 7 year-old girls, and got some video of them dancing too. Sandy Lu helped out, and according to her it was absolutely heavenly to combine two of her passions: children and worshipful dancing! I got a lot of nice photos, which I’ll try to share at some point.

At the end of the day, I realized that it was exactly one week ago that we arrived at this village. Hooray for making it this far! I know that God has a lot more for me to see and experience before I leave, but looking back at this past week shows me that I’ve already learned and been exposed to a lot.

Day 6 - Saturday, June 14

Today we saw a great example of the physical beauty of Malawi. Ralph and Bonnie took the five of us mini-missionaries to Lake Malawi on the eastern border between Malawi and Mozambique. We drove through beautiful hills and forests on our descent of ~1500 ft. from Mzuzu to the Lake, including a forest of rubber trees. It’s against the law here to ‘harvest’ the rubber, but that doesn’t stop the local boys from stripping the bark away and winding thin strips into rubber balls that they sell on the side of the road. It was kind of entertaining to see these boys appear from seemingly nowhere as we drove through the forest, running to the side of the road and holding up their wares.

Also on the way to the lake, we stopped at one of the biggest wood carvers market in Malawi. The Marrons warned us beforehand that these vendors were very skilled in the art of haggling, but nothing could have prepared me for what I experienced there. I decided first to look very briefly at what each stand had to offer, say “thank you” and move on. Then I went back to one of the stands selling some things that I liked and bought a couple items for what I thought were reasonable prices. Up until that point, the vendors were kind but not overly so. Once I made a purchase, however, the word went out that they had a BUYER in their midst! Every person I visited thereafter was now my best friend. I must have told someone my name at some point, because all of the men called out to me, “Andy, my friend! I will give you a good price!” The merchandise was really cool, though, so I kept shopping. In the end, I bought several items, but they had completely cleaned me out of money. Still, looking back on it, I got quite a few nice pieces for roughly a total of $60, and they definitely needed the money more than I do.

At the lake, we went to the Chinteche Inn, a posh establishment for foreigners to enjoy the beauty of the lake with a nice glass of wine in a little bungalow. The seven of us sat at a table on a lawn about 20 feet from the beach and dined on chombo (essentially tilapia) caught fresh that morning. We then spent a few hours enjoying the beach and each other’s company and conversation. It was absolutely beautiful—kind of a combination of my experiences with the eastern shore of Lake Michigan and the coast of California.

All of the experiences today showed me just how much this land has to offer. I see industrious, skilled people and a gorgeous countryside, and I wonder how this could be one of the poorest nations in the world. I’ve heard that there has been significant corruption in the government, so that could explain a lot of it. I’ll have to ask some of the ROS about that.

Tonight, the five of us from TCBC had a little meeting to talk about our experiences so far—the good, the bad, and what we’ve been learning. I praise God for how he put this team together. We all have different skills and strengths, and I think we compliment each other very well. It was interesting to hear about some of our expectations and hopes before we came and our actual experiences here. For example, I hoped to be involved in the clinic in some way, even though I knew that they wouldn’t be holding one of their quarterly open clinics for the surrounding people. (Actually, the clinics are nowhere near that regular and depend greatly on the availability of physicians to come in and run it. There hasn’t been one here since January or February, I believe.) To this day I haven’t done a single thing involving medicine, except for the first night when I pointed out to the nurse a child who appeared to have pinkeye. I hope that aspect of my time here will change, but even if it doesn’t I know that I’m meeting some real needs in the village through what I’m doing.

One thing we all agreed on as a group was that these children here are amazing. Their joy and excitement in life is unrivaled, and the educators among us have commented that they rarely see such a combination of joy, togetherness, manners, and love in children in the States. The most profound thing to me is that these children are a very clear picture of the potential of every child in Malawi. Rafiki children are given almost everything: a family, food, clothing, shoes, education, health care, and biblical training. The fruit of all that is evident, especially when seen in contrast with the children just down the road. I haven’t spent any significant time with non-Rafiki children, but my limited exposure has painted a picture of poverty, hunger, and a severe lack in education—both in terms of access to and resources of Malawian schools. The mission of Rafiki is to change that, even if it’s for a relatively small number of children. Part of their philosophy is that you can’t do everything, but what you do you should do well. In that regard they are succeeding. Only time will tell how their approach will pan out, but I have to believe their positive influence will be dramatic, both here and across Africa.

Day 5 - Friday, June 13

Today was Freedom Day in Malawi, when they celebrate the beginning of democracy in the country. Subsequently, there were no classes and few workers in the village. We took advantage of the time off to go in to Mzuzu to a couple markets and the grocery. The market was a veritable maze of stands lined up side-by-side, selling anything from beans and rice to cell phones to cast-off American merchandise from the 1980’s. It was all open to the air with a dirt floor and mostly smelled of mildew. This is where the ROS do most of their grocery shopping for each week, especially for fruit. I was disappointed that they didn’t have any mango (not in season), but they did have some amazing pineapple—some of the best I’ve ever tasted.

We then traveled to the main grocery store in town, which actually looked pretty modern, except for the selection. For example, for deli meats this week they had pastrami. That’s it. But if you’d rather have honey ham, well, try again next week. The really interesting bit, however, was what waited outside the grocery: young teens selling canvas paintings, cards, necklaces, and bracelets. It was my first experience of saying no to a Malawian salesperson, but I’m sure it won’t be the last. It’s not easy to do that, however, when I consider the disparity between their position in life and my own. What does make it easy, however, is that I didn’t bring much cash with me on this trip, and I want to save it for when I find some things that I really want.

This was the case at our next destination, the fabric market. For the sake of surprising Maria, I won’t describe anything that I bought, but I think she’ll like it!

In the early afternoon, we had some time to just to ourselves, but David asked for some help setting up some more wiring of the house-to-house network. It’s actually really fun and satisfying to help set up electrical projects, even if I don’t have the knowledge or expertise to devise them myself yet.

Later, Ralph Marron, the Village Director, and his wife Bonnie took the Standard 1 class (1^st grade) out on a hike, and most of us from TCBC went with them. We walked along the ridge of a nearby hill, and from time to time we could see the Rafiki village from a distance. The walk was like any mile-long hike one might take in the U.S. with a bunch of 7 year-olds: a lot of running around and yelling, but generally moving in the right direction. We would often pass the homes of some Malawian families, and I was struck again by how bear-bones their existence is here. But the people that we saw along the walk did not seem to despise us for the apparent disparity in wealth; rather they greeted us much the same way they would greet peers, it seems to me.

A short prayer: Lord, thank you for making Malawi a peaceful nation and a nation with great beauty. I ask that you give the people here your peace and joy, and that you would provide for their every need. Please remove from my eyes the filter of materialism, and help me to see these people for who they are.

Day 4 - Thursday, June 12

This morning I resolved to hang in there a little longer with the slasher workers, and I made it about one and a half hours before quitting. Those workers are amazing. This village covers dozens of acres, and they clear pretty much all of it over the course of a couple months. In about a minute of slashing, they cover about 5 times as much area as I do. At least today they didn’t keep redoing the areas that I thought I had finished. I was the only mazungu (white person) working with them today, and it went really well. At one point, one of the kitchen workers at the nearby dining hall called out something that made all the slashers laugh. Matthews, one of the slashers, explained that the kitchen worker had asked them why they were giving me such bullsh*t! I just smiled and said it’s because I’m the new guy. During our brief breaks we talked a little bit… about where we’re all from, how many children we have, etc. They gave me some pointers on slashing and even sharpened my blade for me! I look forward to going back there with them next week. (Tomorrow is a national holiday, so there’s no slashing.)

Later that morning, Nick and I went to start preparing the front gate for a new paint job. A lot of the spots on the gate are covered in streaks of rust and dirt, and the paint is peeling off under the bright African sun. Today we were just scrubbing it with some soap and water—a little bit tedious, but it gave us a chance to work together and experience life outside the gate (even if it was 1 foot outside). During that time, a Malawian girl, probably 12 or 13 years old, came up and said she’d like to join Rafiki because she is an orphan. I knew that Rafiki only took in younger orphans, so I asked one of the gatekeepers to come talk with her. He gently told her the policy of the village and gave her directions to another aid agency in Mzuzu who could help her with school fees (what she was really asking for).

Later, I spoke about the experience with Susan, who said that school fees are outrageously expensive—unaffordable for most Malawians. Thus, the children don’t get much education, and the cycle of poverty and dependence continues. We also talked about Rafiki’s policy of only taking in young orphans. (They do, however, also offer education to about 40 teenage girls from the surrounding areas, and this girl at the gate may have qualified. I really don’t know if that’s true, though.) Essentially, Rafiki is putting almost all its resources into providing everything for 100-200 children per village. They receive food, shelter, clothing, a family structure, high quality education, health care, and protection. The hope is that in this environment, the children will be well-suited for becoming future doctors, lawyers, politicians, etc. for their country. Thus, a generation from now the seed that is planted in these children will grow and positively affect the lives of thousands and millions. I understand that policy, and I pray it works, but it’s difficult to see so much given to these children and to turn around and see thousands of other children living in absolute poverty. This weekend we’ll be going out into the surrounding communities a little bit, so I’ll be able to see firsthand the contrast between the village and everything outside it.

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It truly was a beautiful day today. The sun was shining in a sky with big, puffy, white clouds. The birds and butterflies flew around the yards. The flowers were blushing with reds and purples and oranges, and I just had to take some photographs as keepsakes of how beautiful it is here. There was this one bird that I tried to photograph, but it kept flying away from me. It’s about the size of a hummingbird, and it sipped from the flowers, but it’s wings beat too slowly to be a hummingbird. It’s plumage, however, is what really caught my eye: sleek and shiny, green and yellow. Maybe tomorrow I’ll catch it on film.

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This afternoon I played with some of the children at the playground here. They were an absolute, exhausting joy as they kept calling to me, “Uncle! Uncle!” One wanted to be lifted up into a wooden stand, and then 8 others—having seen me do this—wanted the same thing. I can’t remember how many times I helped a child climb across the monkey bars, lifted boys and girls up and down from the wooden stands, and smiled into their laughing faces. One little boy in particular wanted just to be held as I walked around. He couldn’t have been more than 2, and he reminded me of my own Will, back in Indiana with his Mommy and grandparents. I finally had to call it quits, but not before playing a game of tetherball against two of the aunties (I won).

During a well-deserved break, Bonnie pointed out two girls who were playing very close to each other. They were sisters, Grace (6 years old) and Maggie (not quite 3), and they had been brought to the village together. Ralph (Bonnie’s husband) was the one who went and got them, and he had to go deep into the bush to find them. Grace carried her little sister on her back about a kilometer to the truck, wearing no shoes and just rags for clothes. They are still inseparable. I got some nice pictures of them and their irresistible smiles.

Day 3 -- Wednesday, June 11

Today also started off wet, and I’m beginning to wonder just how dry this season is supposed to be. The rain didn’t last long, however, and after breakfast and the locals’ Bible study I went out to try my hand at slashing. What is slashing, you ask? Well, it’s a lot like cutting grass by hand with half of a lawnmower blade (check out the item for sale about halfway down this page), and it’s as difficult and exhausting as it sounds. There are several hired hands here that are absolute pros at it, and they make it look easy. For about an hour, I worked with Fred and Nick on clearing a small area of some grass, and the pros followed behind us doing the work that we should have done. At the end of that time my arms were weak, my hands were raw, and I was absolutely finished. It’s just an example of how the all native workers do things day in and day out that I couldn’t handle for a fraction of my time here.

After that I found my host, David, who enlisted me in helping set up a house-to-house wired network with some cable and switches. (The whole time I thought about how Matt Olson would really love this!) I won’t go into detail on this, but needless to say it was much more up my alley than chopping coarse grass with a bent sword.

In the afternoon, I spent about three hours at the JSS, helping the girls with their math again. I was able to lead a review session for an exam they have tomorrow, and I think it went pretty well. Most schools here have almost no resources in the way of paper, pencils, books, etc., so it’s pretty amazing how well these girls are doing considering their background. It’s still pretty basic math that they’re doing, but it’s a start.

During the children’s play time in the mid-afternoon, Nick and Rebecca set up their instruments for another mini concert. This time, since Wednesdays are “free play” (meaning the kids can do whatever they want rather then spend the time in an assigned activity), the WHOLE VILLAGE of children came to hear them play and sing. I wasn’t able to go, but I hear it was an amazing time, especially as the Mamas and children began singing some native African songs and dancing around. I’ll definitely have to make a point of being there next time!

For dinner, some young boys roped me into sitting at their table. They then proceeded to make me promise to come read to them in the evening! I agreed, after asking their Mama if this was okay. So around 7:30 pm I headed over to the home of Mama Ronsy (who can’t be more than 4’8”) and her 10 children. Sandy Lu loaned me the book Giraffes Can’t Dance, and I did my best to give a rousing rendition. It was so wonderful to have all of their attention for that time, and even though they were tired, they did not falter. Mama Ronsy was very gracious as a hostess, and I could tell that the children loved and respected her through how they responded to her words. The only thing I regret is that I didn’t get a photo of the occasion!

Day 2 - Tuesday, June 10

Today was our first day of working, and by golly we worked! My day started off with a nice bowl of raisin muesli (the ROS here really spoil us by stocking our pantry with nice things). At 7:30 we met at the home of Bonnie and Ralph Marron for prayer, followed by a short Bible study at 7:45 with about a dozen of the local staff (Malawians). One elderly Malawi lady closed the study with a beautiful prayer in her native tongue. This was the same lady (I can’t remember her name—so many to remember!) who yesterday called me over and told me that I was her grandson. After learning my age, however, she revised her statement and said I was her son.

[Side note: So many of the people I meet here are like this woman—unabashedly gracious and joyful. For some reason, I don’t trust them fully, maybe because I don’t think they should trust me fully. Here I am, some rich American that is swooping in for two weeks to spend time here doing whatever, but am I really helping them? All the others here from TCBC seem to be entering in to the give-and-take of relationships much easier than I am. I hope that will change.]

Since it was a rainy morning (an oddity during the dry season, obviously), I decided to start my work indoors. One of the tasks given to me for this week was to put adhesive felt pads on all the chair legs in dining hall. The floor there is concrete, and the wooden chairs make a horrible noise when pushed in or pulled out from the tables. This makes clean-up time after dinner a terribly noisy experience, and so the felt pads are designed to save the sanity of kitchen workers, Mamas, Aunties, etc. This seemed like as good a time as any to do work on this, so over the course of about 3 ½ hours I scraped, wiped, and padded 500+ chair legs.

The others in the group were also hard at work. Nick worked outside with some of the landscapers despite the conditions. They were slashing some of the tall grass that grows all over the village—a task that I’ll be experiencing soon enough, as David (one of the ROS) wants all of us men to give it a go. Rebecca worked at making beanbags and also teaching a bit in the Standard 1 class (1^st grade). Sandy Lu worked with the classes as well as spending time mending clothes for the Mamas and their children. Fred taught two classes of English for the Junior Secondary School (JSS) girls, who come from the surrounding areas just for the day.

After lunch, Eileen (one of the ROS) invited the five of us mini-missionaries over to her home for some tea. She’s the nurse here in the village, and so I was able to ask her a little bit about the medical situation. Things seem pretty much under control here in the village. Kids, of course, have various illnesses such as pink-eye, ear infections, etc. But malaria is real too. (It kills about 3,000 children per day in Africa!) Just last week one of the children here was diagnosed with malaria. Fortunately, they have good medication here for treating it. Outside the village, things are a little bleaker. There’s a free hospital in the town next door (Mzuzu), but you need to get there first. This is not always easy to do, of course. Every 3-4 months, the Rafiki village here holds a weeklong open clinic with the help of some American physicians and nurses (although there hasn’t been one here since early this year due to lack of staffing). Eileen said that at that time, they get HUNDREDS of people per day lining up to be seen. Despite how overwhelming this sounds, I hope that I can participate in one such clinic later in my medical school career.

In the afternoon I went to the girls school to help tutor during their study halls. They were working on some 6^th and 7^th grade math, and I tried to help them figure out some of the problems that were more challenging for them. Most of them had difficulty with the same questions, which leads me to believe that either those questions were not worded in an understandable manner or that the textbook didn’t explain how to solve them very well. The rest of the questions presented no problem for them.

At 3:30, Nick and Rebecca held a mini concert in the gazebo by the children’s cottages, playing their trumpet and clarinet. All the little kids were both enthralled and perplexed. What is this new thing, and how do we respond? After a few numbers, we sang some silly songs with the kids and just had some fun in general.

At around 4:30, we joined the ROS in their weekly Bible study, followed by dinner with them at around 6:30. It was a great time of fellowship and encouragement for all of us. They repeatedly thanked us for our hard work today, but I kept feeling that they are the ones with the difficult jobs. We’re the mercenaries (as my father-in-law puts it) that come in for only brief periods, while they do this for years without much of a break. God, give them strength and joy in their work!

In case I forget to mention it elsewhere, these are the ROS here right now: David (the guy I’m staying with) is the facilities manager and pretty much keeps all the infrastructure running; his wife, Darlene, is back in the States at the moment, but is in charge of childcare for the village; Eileen—from Norway—is a nurse, part-time teacher at the JSS and general gopher girl; her husband, Paul, is one of the main teachers at the JSS, covering math and science; Deb is the other main teacher at the JSS and covers grammar and Bible (I think); Ralph is in charge of the books, which is no small job since the village employs tons of locals to be mamas, aunties, landscapers, gardeners, housekeepers, guards, etc.; his wife, Bonnie, is in charge of the education of the children of the village and teaches the Standard 1 class (the oldest children in the village at the moment); Susan is the semi-permanent mini-missionary and teaches the kindergarten class.

Day 1 - Monday, June 9

I slept for over 10 hours last night, and I still feel like a zombie. It’ll get better, I know, but today will be a struggle physically. Several of the staff here have encouraged us to not take a nap today so as to get on the new schedule a bit faster. I’m about to go have some breakfast, but I’ll try to jot down some notes from our journey here over the past few days.

The flights were fine, really. British Airways serves nice food, and the flight from London to Johannesburg had on demand entertainment. That was really nice. I got to watch Futurama, Family Guy and Leon—and in between I slept for about 6 hours (thank you, Tylenol PM). It wasn’t until we were landing in Lilongwe that I began to feel as though I were in a truly foreign land. I could see houses with thatched roofs below, and hardly any cars were on the roads. We were met by two of the Rafiki Overseas Staff (ROS), David and Susan. David is the plant manager here, which means he keeps everything running. He had dropped his wife off at the airport that morning, as she was traveling back to the States for a few weeks for some meetings about Rafiki childcare (her job here). Susan, from what I can remember, is kind of a permanent mini-missionary (Rafiki’s term for a short-term missionary). She stays in the guesthouse along with up to four other mini-missionaries. Right now that includes the DelVillanos (Nick and Rebecca) and the Newports (Fred and Sandy Lu). I get to stay with David—he of the two-foot beard—in one of the staff houses.

The drive from the airport to our Rafiki village was long and eye opening. The poverty of the typical Malawian stands in stark contrast to everything I’ve ever experienced. In my work this summer for Neil, I’ll make twice as much money in one week than the average Malawian will see in one year. During the ~4 hour ride from the airport to the Rafiki village, we saw 40-50 vehicles on the road (one of the main roads in the whole country), but there were hundreds of pedestrians, most of whom didn’t have shoes. The houses we saw along the way were mostly mud brick (Malawi bricks are actually pretty high quality) with either thatch or corrugated metal for a roof. Some of these buildings were for drying tobacco (one of the largest industries here), but most were dirt-floor residences. During the drive, David put the contrast in material resources this way: his house here in the Rafiki village would be considered quite modest by American standards, but by Rafiki standards it’s a mansion.

I don’t want to dwell too much on the disparity of wealth, mainly because I’m not sure how to process it. How do I come to terms with an average per capita income of less than $500? I can’t. But I can serve and ultimately love these people as fellow human beings, image bearers of God. Lord, help me to serve. Help me to love with the love you’ve poured out on me.

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I’ve returned from lunch and a brief walk to the gate/clinic of the village. For lunch today, I sat at the table of Mama Grace and her nine (!) children, the oldest of whom was 7. I really don’t know how she does it. The children were all very sweet, and most of them stared at me throughout the meal. I really wasn’t sure what to do or say, so I just made some funny faces at them and smiled a lot. I kept thinking how much fun Will would have with these kids if he were here. Maybe someday…

One little girl at lunch, Pemphero, has been here for only three days. She sat right next to Mama Grace and mostly played with her food and looked at me with big, curious eyes. One of the ROS told us yesterday that when a new child comes to the village, it isn’t really a happy occasion. Of course, the village is happy to welcome a new child into their community, but it’s also an indication of how things can break down in the ability of the country to care for their orphans. Malawians, like all Africans, want to take care of their own, especially those in great need like young orphans. Most of the time, a child who has lost their parents will be taken in by a grandparent or aunt/uncle. Sometimes, however, those caregivers in the extended family are sick with AIDS or have already died. This is why it’s a somber event to bring in a new child. Every boy and girl has a story of why the system failed him or her.

Ralph, one of the boys in the first grade classroom handed me a drawing this morning. It shows four matolas, one of the most common forms of public transportation here. (A matola is essentially a seven-passenger van that is usually crammed with a dozen or more people, each of whom has some baggage along for the ride.) The vehicles in the drawing all have somewhere between three and six tires, so it’s a start. It was a very sweet gesture, and one that I won’t soon forget.

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At the end of day 1, I’ve had a frustrating and interesting experience. I seem to have lost my headphones, probably by leaving them on the plane from Johannesburg to Lilongwe. I’ve just spent the last half hour going through all my belongings, twice, without finding them. What’s interesting is that the cost of those headphones is more than what the typical Malawian will make in two weeks. This, however, does not appall me, but that’s probably a defense mechanism on my part. I know that in two weeks I’ll be back in the United States, and I’ll have to go back to a life of eating $20 meals, driving a $5,000 car, and working with a million dollar instrument. I can’t reconcile these disparate experiences, so I’ll just pretend that they exist in two separate worlds. Unfortunately, that’s not true in a literal sense. I didn’t travel through some wormhole in space to reach this parallel universe where people are suddenly poor. It’s the same world: I shrug off losing a $15 pair of headphones while a family down the road has to choose between school fees for their children or going hungry. I can’t emotionally engage with that statement, and so I’ll just go to bed.