amanda4peacecorpsmalawi-blog

[amanda4peacecorpsmalawi-blog]

Thanks [for the Azungu] Giving us Goat!

I love Thanksgiving. Who doesn’t love a holiday centered around food, friendship, and gratitude? Malawians love food too. In fact, they treasure food far more than the average American. Skipping a meal in America doesn’t tend to surprise anyone, but if I tell someone here that I skipped lunch, their mouth goes agape and then they are off running to their home to fetch me some nsima immediately. Instead of a culture that emphasizes diet fads and thigh gaps, Malawian culture emphasizes eating until you explode three times a day. They would find a big, round belly much more attractive on me than my hipbones poking out (which I personally cherish). I am not necessarily saying that this culture is healthier than American culture. There are certainly positives and negatives to both cultures. What I am saying though, is that celebrating Thanksgiving in Malawi was bound to be a big, giant, eat till you explode feast that I couldn’t wait to share with my Malawian friends, and fellow Peace Corps Volunteer, Justin Krohn.

Justin prepping a cucumber and tomato salad

Since June, I have had about 40 individuals taking time out of their daily lives to meet with me once a week (see previous blog post). These individuals comprise my first SOLID (Sustainable Opportunities for Leaders of Internal Development) group, where I have been teaching them various skills to assist in leading projects towards community development. I have been beyond thankful for this particular group of people. Not only have they been interested in working with me, but they have also been very enthusiastic about introducing me to various aspects of Malawian culture. Thanksgiving was aligning perfectly with their set graduation of being trained as community leaders, and I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate them and Thanksgiving than to combine both festivities into one grand ceremony.

Cooking the mashed potatoes

             When the sun rose on Thursday morning, I anxiously awoke my friend Justin so we could begin the food preparations for our meal at 2 o’clock that afternoon. My improvised Thanksgiving menu included: roasted chickpeas, mashed potatoes, spaghetti, a cucumber salad, a carrot cake and funfetti cake (compliments of Betty Crocker), and a whole goat. I had been telling everyone in my group for 3 weeks to bring one single, large dish. I assumed the rest of the meal would consist of nsima, therere (okra), nkwhani (pumpkin leaves), nkhukhu (chicken), mbuzi (goat), mazira (eggs), nyemba (beans), and maybe one out of the box thinker would perchance bring some rice. I didn’t care much as to what people brought, as long as they brought something.

The mbuzi (goat) dished up and ready to serve           

           2 o’clock arrived, the classroom was decorated with orange and red balloons (the only decorations I could muster up), some people were sitting outside waiting, and the meal’s centerpiece (the goat) arrived smelling delicious. We were ready to begin! I opened up with a speech that had been translated into Chichewa. I gave them a brief history of Thanksgiving and told them how thankful I was for their friendship, and to be sharing this day with them. I ended my speech by saying grace then two women began sharing the goat among the plethora of plates. I kept trying to initiate everyone that brought food to bring it out so we could set it up potluck style, but for some reason, my message was not getting translated. I gave up and opted to participate in serving the plates to everyone. Once everyone received their plates, they began bringing out their food. I soon came to realize that everyone did bring a dish, but they had brought a small dish for themselves. My counterparts then told the group that I had brought dishes to share with everyone! Of course, my dishes were certainly NOT large enough to split happily between 75 people, but somehow we made that happen. Everyone got a spoonful of every single dish I had prepared. And what I mean by everyone is everyone BUT me and poor, sweet Justin. We sat there with our tummy’s growling, watching everyone eat. After everyone had completed the meal, we continued on with the ceremony. I wanted to hear from them what they were thankful for this Thanksgiving. Due to the speeches all being spoken in Chichewa, I only understood some of it, but of the 5 speeches I understood that they were incredibly thankful for one thing: ME. Me because I am here to “help save their water and get them money.” Hmmmm NOT exactly the response of “I am thankful for my family and good health” I had been hoping for. I, of course, am very thankful that they are thankful for me, and I truly hope that I can help them do all that they think I can! Although it’s doubtful as I’m pretty convinced they think I’m a magical unicorn with money flowing out of my butt.

            Once we concluded this [kind of] touching moment of gratitude, it was time to award those that completed the training their certificates. I read off about 39 names and then was hit with a plundering of people that were convinced that THEY TOO deserved a certificate (although they had quit attending the trainings regularly weeks before). I suppose it is a common thing to want the reward without doing the work, and believe me, a certificate is a coveted and respected award in Malawian culture. I resolved the conflict as nicely as I could, and shuffled everyone outside for a photo. I was exhausted and ready to end this day!

My entire SOLID group and their training completion certificates        

        I said my good-byes and got hugs from some of my favorite people. As hungry and grumpy as I was that everything didn’t go quite as I had wanted, every other Malawian in attendance had a giant smile on their face as they departed the school grounds. They were full of good food, proud of their hard work, and thankful for me (and hopefully other things too). Now that I look back at it, I can’t imagine this Thanksgiving meal going any better. I witnessed the true meanings of Thanksgiving: the giving of food, friendship, and gratitude

My counterparts daughter enjoying the Funfetti Cake

[amanda4peacecorpsmalawi-blog]

My First SOLID Success

The first three-months at site can be very difficult, and leave you twiddling your thumbs as you are just too overwhelmed with trying to understand the needs of your community, all while trying to adapt to your new lifestyle. Upon my site visit, I had met a women's group that appeared very excited and motivated to begin working with me. There was one woman that especially stood out to me. She appeared to be the leader of the women's group, but it was her warm and radiant smile that engrained her image into my head. The day I was dropped off at site, this same woman was at the boar hole. As she saw me, she came running to me, and grasped me tight in her big, open arms.

Violet Kamuaza and I in her home in Kamsonga Village

The feeling of wanting to work with this woman was immediately reaffirmed. My first few weeks were a whirlwind of feeling so busy just trying to adapt with feelings of boredom and not having a purpose. I knew I wanted to start something, and since projects were not currently an option, I decided I wanted to start SOLID. SOLID is a training program that teaches attendees a wide array of different skills needed for leaders in development (these include community assessment, business, and grant writing skills, etc.), it prompts community enthusiasm and motivation towards development, and also assists me in being able to pinpoint leaders to spearhead these different projects. I knew that this could be a great tool for me to get to the community, and for the community to get to know me. I also knew I wanted that smiling woman and her women's group to be in attendance. I presented to SOLID Training program to my counterparts, and they were willing to give it a go.  I then spent the following couple weeks at our weekly market handing out fliers. I hand-wrote over 120 fliers for this occasion. Not only did it get the word out, but it prompted many people to feel comfortable enough to come up and engage in conversation with this new American living in their home village. We had marked June 17 as the date of our first meeting. After all the invitations and fliers were handed out, all that was left to do was to anxiously await our first meeting to see who would show up.

The first day only about 17 men showed up as I did an introduction of myself, Peace Corps and the SOLID program. The next week I had planned to do the registration and much to my surprise, I had 32 in attendance. Apparently I had made a decent impression to those men whom happened to be prominent members in the community, and they personally went out to ask people to be a part SOLID meetings. I was happy to see that smiling woman there who I then learned was named Violet Kamuaza.

The women doing the first community assessment tool: community mapping

The first few weeks of my meetings, I was teaching them community assessment tools. In order to make it interesting, I introduced every new tool with an example of it regarding my community and life in America. My favorite week is when I taught them the Daily Schedules tool. I made a schedule of my normal day in America. I began introducing to them the start of my day which happened to be at 8am. All of their faces dropped at how late I would wake. I continued on knowing they were going to be in for a greater surprise. When I got to my afternoons, I told them how I would start my work day at 3pm and that I would work all the way until 11pm. They gave each other looks and began to laugh with me as I explained to them that I was not lazy, and this was why I would wake up so "late." I also brought along some pictures and the description of the type of work I did so they got to see my past experience and understand my specific job qualifications. This not only brought them to understand me and where I was coming from, but it also kept them interested in my meetings. Each week after I was done presenting, it would then be their turn to do the tool in regards to their community, and I was able to begin my understanding of their needs and possible project ideas.  I had been warned that community groups and trainings were hard to get going because I was not offering an material incentive. I only had myself to offer. I went into SOLID with an open mind and no expectations. I wanted to show them I was a genuine person in my wanting to help them with all I could, and to coincidingly learn from them if they were willing to teach me.

The primary school classroom we hold all of our meetings

At my last meeting of my first two months of my SOLID meetings, I had over 70 people in attendance. I had not lost one single person... I had only gained. In the month of August, the members of SOLID had scheduled 8 separate community assessments in their surrounding villages. I was planning on being there for all of them, although I wasn't going to lead them. Due to unforseen circumstances, I found out I was going to miss all the assessments. I prepared myself for the possibility of them all falling through. At the end of those 8 days, I called my counterparts to see what had actually occurred, and their response to me? All of them happened, except one. I couldn't have been happier! Although I wanted to see the final product myself before I got to excited. When I returned back to site, sure enough, all of the assessments were written out for me on large pieces of paper, just waiting for me to examine. My SOLID members had independently assessed their communities and come up with project ideas. My main goal of SOLID was accomplished within the first few months: to impart my skills and knowledge on them to make projects community driven and sustainable. They didn't need me, and I felt like a proud parent watching their child go off successfully into the world.  

[amanda4peacecorpsmalawi-blog]

Talking 'Bout My Best Friend

It was one of my first days at site and I was sitting out in my kitchen, trying desperately to keep the flames on my fire going. Children were walking along the path that passes along the side of my yard, and in front of my house. The site of an azungu on all fours, blowing on her fire, was quite the hilarious site that these children could not ignore it. Before I could knew it, there were at least 10 children crowded in my tiny kitchen area. Some of them were bringing sticks to add to my fire. Others were just sitting down laughing at me. But there was one girl that just smiled and said, “Let me help” in the most adorable English. She was small, petite girl, but had the most grandiose smile that took over her face. We didn’t speak much to each other that day as most of the children just kept in awe of me, but as she took the lead in helping me, I was able to successfully cook a full meal over my fire that day.

 Rabekah and I baking our first "Keke ya ntochi" (Banana Cake)

It was a Saturday afternoon a couple weeks later. I had just gotten home from church, and had been looking forward to cooking some spaghetti noodles I had found in my Boma (town center) earlier in the week. I was again, kneeling on all fours in my kitchen blowing on my fire, when a group of about 5 girls filed into my kitchen to assist (or most likely laugh) at me again. This same girl was among them. The water began boiling and I threw the noodles in. They were quite curious as to what I was cooking as most Malawians do not deviate from their staple foods of nsima, nyama, ndi masamba. (nsima, meat, and vegetables). This young girl seemed to be the only one that knew what spaghetti was, and she explained it to the other girls.

A Traditional malawi Meal of nsima, nyama ndi masamba

            Once I had finished cooking, I invited them inside. I offered them to try some, but most of them denied my offer. I still had not had the chance to purchase any forks, so I was stuck eating my spaghetti with a spoon. (I suppose I could have attempted spaghetti with my hands, as most Malawian meals are eaten that way, but I rather leave the hand eating to nsima and rice… Spaghetti seems too messy.) The girls all sat there giggling at me the entire meal as my spaghetti kept falling off my spoon.

            The next day, I looked out my window and I saw the same young girl walking down to my house with a baby slung on her back. The next thing I hear is a knock on my door. I open it up and see her little face smiling up at me. In her hands, she is holding a fork. The fork has a plastic bow (ripped off from a plastic bag) tied around it. She hands it to me and says, “This is for you.” This was the first of many gifts from this little angel that I became to know as Rabekah Kwalira.

Rabekah on top of Kanjiwa Hill

The following week I was hit with some flu-like symptoms. I was convinced I was suffering from Malaria and was bound to my home. I was in bed one of these mornings when I heard an “Ode!” coming from my backdoor. I peeked out and there was Rabekah standing there with a piece of paper in her hands. She said that she heard I was sick (the quick spread of news is what we call "Bush Radio") and handed over a drawing of beautiful flowers in a vase with the words, “Get Well Soon. Love, Rabekah Kwalira.”

Rabekah getting in tune with her musical side

These were the beginning moments of one of the most genuinely true friendships I have ever had. Since these moments, most our mornings and afternoons are spent in each other's presence. Even if I’m off washing clothes or cleaning, she’s often running around my house doing some craft or climbing on some tree. Our favorite things to do together always revolve around music. She loves skimming my iPod and blasting the speakers. I often dance around with her baby sister, Favor, in my arms, and she always giggles away. We have baked cakes, read magazines, and colored all over my walls. We even had a full-blown slumber party complete with food, girl talk, dancing, and yoga. She’s only 10, but she’s definitely my best friend, and beautiful soul that has helped deliver me from days that could have been spent very lonely. 

Rabekah being the divine artist she is

[amanda4peacecorpsmalawi-blog]

Just Follow The Sound of Music

It was one of my first weeks at site, and I was on my daily afternoon walk around my village. The day before I had gone on a walk with my friend, and everyone had been extremely kind and excited to greet us as we ventured along. It had made me even more excited to go on another successful walk today despite being alone.

The day before I had climbed to the top of Kanjiwa Hill. This is a tiny hill that I fell in the love with the moment I saw my village. I love it as it's the only way I am able to get anywhere near a hike in my surrounding area. (Plus it really is cute and gives you a beautiful 360˚ view of the Kamsonga area.)

This is a view of my village from the top of Kanjiwa

A group of young kids escorted us up the hill, and we had the best time with them! They were so sweet, and one practiced as much english as she could with us. This day, I was excited to climb the hill again, and maybe hang out with those kids a little more! As I approached the hill, I noticed the same children from the day before. I went up to them and greeted them happily, but today, they were different. It almost seemed as if they were thinking when I greeted them, "What does this weird azungu (white) woman want?" as they looked at me with their unamused stares. Alright then, so I'd hike the hill myself! No problem. I had brought a good book with me in case I went up alone anyways. 

The day before, my friend and I had had encountered a group of women at the base of the hill as well. They were heading to their dimba ya maungu (pumpkin garden). They had been so excited to meet my friend and I that they had dragged us along and gifted us with 5 delicious pumpkins. This day, I ran into one of the same women with two younger ladies with her. I greeted them all happily. I had been wearing my Dad's red bandana around my hair, and they all expressed (through Chichewa and charades) that they liked my bandana. Once I received this message, I thanked them and went on my way up the hill!

I had been feeling a little anxious due to my reaction from the kids, but running into these ladies made me feel better, and I was happy as I sat on top of the hill and opened my book as the sun began going down. After a few minutes, I thought I heard people climbing up so I turned around and saw the ladies climbing up to me. (This would not be weird in America, but people DO NOT climb hills for fun in Malawi.) As they approached, my anxiety started to creep back. "What do they want?" I wondered. Well soon enough, I knew. They wanted my Dad's red bandana that was on my head. I played dumb for a moment and pretended not to understand their Chichewa, but unfortunately, I'm decent enough at Chichewa to know when someone is asking me for the clothes off my back (yes, overdramatized, but still, I have sentimental attachment to this bandana around my head). After acknowledging, and as kindly as I could tell them no (a few times), they left back down the hill very disgruntled and unhappy with me.

Now I'm going to go off on a bit of a tangent - Being a white person in Malawi means a couple key things:

You're rich (all white people are rich)

You are here for one sole purpose, and that is, to give people things.

As much as I consider myself a giving person in regards to material things in America, as a Peace Corps Volunteer, I am here to give myself, my time, my knowledge, and all the resources I have.. I cannot be giving out candy, clothes and money to every child (AND adult) that asks... I just can't. It's a boundary important to put up right in the beginning. As this has not been a boundary I have set in America, people asking me for things here has been a large trigger of stress and anxiety as I hate saying, "NO!"

As the ladies left, I was left alone on this hill alone, and full of anxiety. I am new in a village, I want people to like me and thing I'm nice! Not think I'm a rich, mean, grumpy, and selfish azungu woman. My lovely afternoon on top of this hill was ruined, and not half as good as it had been yesterday. Although I had had the intention to watch the sunset from up there, I now just wanted to cry so I decided to depart to the safety of my home where I could curl up in a ball and bawl like a baby.

I made my way down the hill to the side of the health center, past the group of the children from yesterday, and was passing the primary school when I heard a beautiful sound: SINGING. The noise filled the area, and my anxiety dissipated as a smile appeared solely from the beauty of the sound I was now surrounded by. I kept moving towards the noise and saw it coming from the CCAP (Church of Central Africa Presbyterian). As I was about to walk by, I stopped myself and forced myself to approach this group of intimidating women. 

It was one of the greatest scariest things I've made myself do because this group of women are now some of my best friends' in my village. We may not be able to say much to one another, but they're teaching me to sing and dance just like they do. I have ever since been attending their choir practices every Wednesday and Friday, as well as church with them on Sunday. Do I care that I am that silly, giant-looking, azungu woman that dances with the Madalitso Women's Choir in church? No, because I much rather have people know me and laugh at me/with me than not know me and the type of person I am (which is kind of a goofy one).

Me dancing with a few members of the choir

Needless to say, that bad day turned into one of the best days.

It has gained me a lot of street cred in the village too. People have taken notice that I'm there to be with them, to dance with them, to try to learn from them, and to be like them (as much as an azungu can), and that's kind of all that really matters in the end. 

[amanda4peacecorpsmalawi-blog]

A Normal Day

I attempted doing my laundry out front at the boar hole for a couple mornings. I thought this would be a good idea for integration reasons: more people would be exposed to me and they’d see that I am trying to be like them. That’s a good idea right?

As I happily squatted next to my bucket, scrubbing my clothes as similarly as I can to a Malawian, a woman approaches me. She grabs my clothes from my hands, no introductions nothing, then motions for me to sit down.

What? Nooo! At least let me help you wash my clothes, shoot.

I never thought someone would want to hijack my laundry duties. It’s so awkward when a stranger washes your “sexy” underwear, even more so when they don’t realize it until they’re done washing it.

Whoops, sorry lady.

Of course, all this was accompanied with a million stares but whatever. I completed my laundry and got to integrate while doing so, so I’d say “A job well done!”

There is a 15 year old boy making bricks out in front of my house. The other morning he saw me struggling to make a fire, and so he entered the kitchen, took the grass from my hands, and completely schooled me.

Ummm, OK. Cool. This whole taking things out of my hands thing is becoming a pattern, I think.

 Today, he brings me an outside broom (skeletons of weeds tied together) because he believed my dirt needed to be sweeped as my yard looked bad (to him apparently).

Thank you - message received.

 He then tries to show me how to “properly” sweep.

OK got it

So I mimic him. He takes the broom from my hand again.

Yep, it’s a pattern.

Despite my perfectly good attempt. He then asks me for a phone, which I took as, “Get your phone and take my number.” I bring out my “fancy” iPhone 3 and hand it to him. His face seems overwhelmed/excited. We then get the message straight: He is asking me to buy him a phone. I relayed my message of,

“NO!”

as nice and politely as I could. Later in the day, after he completed his brick making, he tells me he needs water. I go inside and get a cup of water for him. I try and hand it to him, but he stares at me, laughs, then leaves.

Hmmmm… OK, weird, but whatever.

He then returns to my backyard with a giant bucket of water and enters into my bathing room.

What? Hello? Excuuuuuse meeeeee

And he bathes.

What did I miss? That can’t be normal. I’m confused.

  I went to the market today as well. It’s just like Redland’s market night! Except not at all. But hey, they’re both on Thursdays so that’s close enough, right?

It’s the little things.

I bought lots of neat stuff, like a teapot, and a nice blanket. I also got my first two marriage proposals in Kamsonga: one from a man selling radios and another from the man selling me a blanket. The man selling the radios called me “Azungu!” as I walked by, but I ignored him as that annoys me when grown adults do that. He came after me and I gave him sass about calling me “Azungu.” I’m afraid that made him like me that much more. It was a pretty funny interaction though. I’m sure he was drunk, but he was semi-charming in his random coon skin cap.

What a funny day!

[amanda4peacecorpsmalawi-blog]

My very own first HOOOOOOME <3 : A Bedroom, a storage room, a food storage room, a living room (with no furniture still), an outside kitchen/fire place, and bathing room.

[amanda4peacecorpsmalawi-blog]

Inside My Mind [The First 2 months]

Excerpts from The Book of Amanda (aka "my journal"):

Thursday 3/6/14

“I have still not had a real cry since I left my dad at the airport. I almost wish I had been able to have a good cry at LAX to get it all out, but I felt the need to keep it together for my father. I was sure I would cry once I left him, but then the excitement of my adventure finally beginning set in, and this excitement has not left me since.”

  Saying good-bye to my Dad at LAX

Saturday 3/8/14

“It’s 5:30 am and I have spent my first two nights in Malawi. Each morning I have woken up to the buzz of a mosquito outside my net, and a choir of crickets outside. I cherish these noises already. I also find my mosquito net rather enchanting. We move into our villages and begin Community Based Training on Monday. I am incredibly excited, although I know it isn’t always going to be easy.”

  Tuesday 3/11/14

“The homestay coordinator began announcing our names followed by our host families names’. It was such a thrill watching all the families run and hug their new son or daughter. Then my name was called. My Amayi and I happily grasped. She picked up my large backpack and balanced it on her head for our walk to my new home. We held hands through the cornfields. I was immediately enchanted and felt at home the second I saw the chickens and a pet cat! I also found that I have a little sister. She’s precious and we are going to be best friends.“

My little sister, Christina and I

  Thursday 3/13/14

“I experienced my first Malawi thunderstorm today and it was absolutely magical. The clouds rolled in from out of nowhere and it poured some of the most rain I have ever seen at once. It was so loud on the tin roof of the house that we had to discontinue our conversation. I realized then and there that I was going to love it here. Everything is going to be quite alright.”

  Friday 3/14/14

“The Adventist world is small. I knew there were Adventist roots all over here, but of course, the only Adventist family in this village is my host family. If there is a God, he is laughing up there saying, “You thought you could get away, didn’t you?” Not that I’m necessarily trying to get away. I did come here in hopes to gain a spiritual sense of self again… I just didn’t plan on it being Adventism exactly. I can’t lie though and pretend I don’t find it comforting. I do.”

  Sunday 3/16/14

“I do believe I am acclimating to African Village life quite well. I keep doing all these things like carrying a bucket of water on my head, or eating my veggies with a little dirt in them with a smile on my face. I am not saying this is the most “fun” thing I have ever done. It’s far from. But damn, it sure is interesting and I still can't believe I am here and doing it.”

  Tuesday 3/18/14

“I almost crushed a frog in my bed yesterday so I am making it a point to check my bed every night… But anyways, today was a good day! I do find myself fortunate though for my host family situation. I really have been granted a wonderful family. Dolica and Christina Mwale are my Godsends. I want to believe that these types of situations is karma getting me back, but maybe something up there is watching out for me after all.”

  Monday 3/24/14

“I was happy to return home to my Amayi Saturday evening after a long day. It was then she told me my Abambo would be coming to meet me the next morning… When he arrived, I had assumed he would speak a little English like my Amayi, but nope, not a word. My Amayi made me leave socializing with some new Malawian friends so I could have silent tea with my Abambo… it was kind of awkward, but he does seem very nice.”

  Friday 3/28/14

“Today is what I would call my first bad day. After a rough day yesterday, I just felt so lonely and wanted a friend that really knows me, or even someone that I feel like I could truly talk to. I wrote Melissa a letter at lunch and felt better. But later on, I broke down and cried on my language teacher’s front porch. Luckily, Keith and Genevieve were there and delivered me hugs and kisses. Honestly, that was all I really needed."

My language class (From Left to Right): Keith, Genevieve, Rhoda (my language teacher), Justin, and me

  Saturday 3/29/14

“Yay for the bad days because they make the good days really good! The initial start of our training today was rough and I felt odd, but once we all ventured to the tree nursery and began planting, I felt so much better being with everyone in our environment group. We concluded early and all chatted in the hall. This whole self-reliance thing is difficult when I like people so much! We all met to head to the Boma around 2:30, and I got my first beer in weeks. It was grand.”

  Saturday 4/5/14

“I started running and biking every other morning this week! It was wonderful. That is until we had a malaria training this week where we played games. As we played a parachute game, Andy and I ran under the sheet, and he happened to land pretty awkwardly on my ankle. That has resulted in a pinched nerve so half my ankle has been numb for days. So that's a bummer, but whatever… Today I hitched a ride for my very first time! I also had my first mini bus experience. It was all very exciting.”

  Tuesday 4/8/14

“I can’t believe it’s Week 5 of training, yet all at once I’m surprised training isn’t over already! I feel like I’ve been here for so long. My Amayi and I definitely have a bond that feels longer than it really has been. Yesterday she asked me very seriously, ‘Is it true that Justin is the brother of Obama?’ I just about died laughing. She has a great sense of humor and joined in too. I adore her. I shared chocolate biscuits doused in peanut butter with her and Christina tonight. I’m pretty sure they adore me right back.”

  Sunday 4/13/14

“Yesterday was a fabulous day in total. Well, the language assessment wasn’t all that grand, but the Peace Corps sports day with the village was super fun. We began with tug-of-war, then neti ball, then football (soccer). Peace Corps beat the men’s football team! It was awesome. Afterwards, 12 of us went to Dombolera’s field to play Ultimate Frisbee. That was the perfect ending to my day. I LOVE Ultimate Frisbee. That is now a game I will always play in my future. This weekend was much needed after a very stressful week.”

  Tuesday 4/15/14

“I have been informed of my new home for the next two years! Kamsonga Village in the Ntchisi District. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t thrilled at first, but I also wasn’t disappointed. I was fairly blasé… mainly because I don’t know what I wanted. I’ve been so open-minded about the process from the beginning, my actual wants have been semi-lost in translation. But as the news has settled, the more excited I have gotten. I am excited about having a new site, and being their first face of Peace Corps. Actually, Justin Green told me that ‘[I am] a good representation and trustworthy enough to give Peace Corps a good name.’ I thought that was very nice.”

  Thursday 4/24/14

“I met my counterpart last Wednesday when they came to Kasungu to take us to our villages for site visit. He speaks NO ENGLISH. That became very apparent when I left to travel with him. Once we reached Kamsonga though, his demeanor completely changed. He tried talking to me more (even if it was in Chichewa), and his wife was very nice as she prepared our meals and heated up my bafa water. I also got to see my new house! And sleep there. That was the exciting part. My counterpart gave me a bamboo mat that I put my yoga mat on to sleep. I stuffed my clothes in my chitenje backpack and voila! My bed for a week. It was quite the memory I’ll have… with my candles lit, reading ‘The Art of Happiness,’ and listening to 'In Rolling Waves' by The Naked and Famous.”

My Counterparts daughters, Eliza and Chisomo, during my site visit

  Friday 4/25/14

“Last night I dreamt about all my friends in SB! These dreams are the best part of my anit-malarial meds as they make my dreams so vivid. I really, REALLY miss my friends. I got a letter from Melissa today. I cried like a baby. It was just so beautiful. I also got a letter from my Dad yesterday. Cinders chewed on the corner of the paper so it had her teeth marks. Dad spoke about Olaf… sadly Olaf passed away a few days ago so that part definitely made me cry. I miss him and Cinders. And my Dad AND Mom AND EVERYONE!”

  Tuesday 5/6/14

“The last days of training have concluded finally. They have been busy days, which explain my lack of journal entries, but they have been good! Tonight marks my last night as a Peace Corps Trainee, as tomorrow I swear in as a REAL-LIFE Volunteer!”

  Saturday 5/10/14 (Second night at site)

“The two years have officially begun! Swearing-in took place on Wednesday at the Ambassador’s place. I got emotional (of course, because it's me) during the speeches in the best way possible. It was all very exciting and it made me feel like I was ready for whatever is to be thrown at me. I also got to meet the Ambassador. She was a nice lady (I think) and let me take a picture with her. I almost put my arm around her, but luckily caught myself and saved me from what could have been a very awkward situation. They had delicious hors d'oeuvres. And we all swarmed the poor servers like stoned kids with mad munchies. It was kind of embarrassing, but since we were all doing it, it wasn’t at all. It was heaven in our mouths after two months of nsima.

At the Ambassador's Home on Swearing-In Day

My Home-stay Family on Village Appreciation 

We held Village Appreciation the following day, which marked our last day with our families. When we departed for our sites the next morning, I definitely cried some tears due to leaving my Amayi and friends, but was also so excited to finally settle down in my very own house! Finally, I am here, and the very first thing I did was hung pictures. Today, there was a beautiful thunderstorm with a rainbow that followed. It was a good sign showing me that everything is gonna be alright.”

There you have it. They best way I could figure out how to summarize the first two months of my experience, and tomorrow already marks the conclusion of my 3rd month! So much more has already happened, yet I just can't seem to get to internet quick enough to disclose all of it. Oh the joys of living a "simple" life... but you want to know a secret?

I don't really mind... I kinda like it like this.

Lots of love (as always)

[amanda4peacecorpsmalawi-blog]

"I've a Feeling We're Not in [America] Anymore"

I am not sure even quite where to begin. Where do you begin when your whole life has changed? And even though it's been only 2 1/2 months since my departure from the beautiful and sunny California, SO MUCH HAS CHANGED! Good thing I like adventure, ehh? Because this surely has been an adventure. I can only imagine what all is going to happen in my full 26 months here.

This time last year, I was interviewing with Peace Corps and just beginning my year of waiting games. This time last year, I was having the time of my life at Coachella, Extravaganza, and all my other little music festivals that have been my livelihood. But in-between all of my fun, I was also thinking, "As much as it will suck to not be able to do these things next year, I hope I'm off doing some super awesome stuff in the world!" And you know what? Here I am. Doing exactly what I wanted to do. Live in a foreign land, doing things that I normally wouldn't have the opportunity to do. And for this, I am proud. I made it to Malawi... a tiny little country in East Africa where women wear skirts below their knees, and don't drink alcohol in public (unless they're a prostitute). I have done a complete 180 degree turn in comparison to my midriff constantly showing in the shining sun, while throwing back a drink or too with my fellow cladly dressed lady friends. And you know what? I'm OK. There are rough days, but there are also some grand days that make the rough days completely worth it. 

What do  these rough days consist of? Well, it surely is something getting used to no electricity (which contributes to my lack of a blog sooner than this), no running water (meaning many trips to the bore hole with a bucket on my head), and starting and cooking over a fire (which is great and all despite the intense smoke inhalation that doesn't feel too grand in your lungs). But these are things that after 2 1/2 months, I am getting used to, and you know what? I'm surviving! I've been on my own for 12 days now, in my village, Kamsonga (located in the Ntchisi District), fending for myself. After this, I don't think I'll ever need a man to take care of me! HA ;) (although, I'll probably still want one eventually... maybe... someday... if he's nice to look at). But when it comes down to it, these aren't really even the things that make my day rough. It has been surprisingly easy to adjust to the lack of commodities I've been raised with. It is obviously hard though to be coming in as an outsider, an "Azungu" (white person). This has created me to be the object of everyone's attention. I have gotten a taste of what being a celebrity is like, and you know what? It kinda sucks! You lose all your privacy (especially with a bore hole in your front yard and no fence) and everything you do is newsworthy. I mean, you should see me collect sticks in my yard for my fire! From what I gather from the laughs, it's apparently a rather hilarious sight. And don't even get my started on how I wash more clothes or sweep. This probably stems from the lack of understanding most people have in regards to what I'm doing there. Most people probably think I'm there to hangout for a few weeks, give them some money or a new building, then take off again back to my easy life in the first world. But nope. That's not me nor what I'm here for. I'm here to be there constant entertainment for 2 whole years (and hopefully much more)... many just don't realize it yet. 

The cool thing about Peace Corps is we aren't like other organizations that want to just give them money, tell them what to do, and then leave them to their own devices again. Peace Corps is all about cross-cultural learning, understanding, and teaching. I am here to learn what it is like to live and to be like them. I am here to integrate so that we can have a healthy two-way street of learning that will leave a more magnificent, self-sustaining impact (on them and me) once our time comes to an end. That's pretty rad when you think about it. Because as amazing as I am realizing America is and how good we have it? The people of Malawi definitely have some good things going for them too, and that us as Americans could learn from them. I'm excited to be the connector between home and Malawi for the next two years. I'm also excited that no matter how rough my days get in Malawi, I'm gonna return to America like a badass at the end of it all... just you wait. ;)

Now that the real two years has begun as a REAL PEACE CORPS VOLUNTEER, just you wait for the stories that will begin to unfold. I'm sure they're coming.

But for now,

Sending you good vibes and lots of love from the Warm Heart of Africa <3

[amanda4peacecorpsmalawi-blog]

"Where are you going, Where have you been?"

Of course, the common question I get when people are informed of my decision to spend the next 27 months of my life in a small country in East Africa, is "Well, what made you decide to do that?"

Well I don't know. It could be the wonderful influence of my family members and my particular religious upbringing. Many of my favorite memories from childhood are moments that were spent with my youth group and church giving unto others. I remember that one 30-hour famine we had (to raise money for hunger) where were were all SO hungry in our final hours of completion, yet instead of groaning, we were at the park feeding the homeless people a meal. I may have been hungry, but I had never felt more full. I also especially loved the Friday nights I spent in San Francisco where we ventured into the Tenderloin with hot chocolate, and spoke to anyone that wanted someone to talk to. That was when I learned that just because someone was on the street, or appeared dirty, didn't mean they were much different than me. In fact, many of their stories inspired my young life, and they taught me to go out and to experience the unknown world. There is a lot of good out in the world, even if it appears "dirty" or scary.

Beyond that, I was lucky enough to have two brave sisters that wanted to experience the world in the way of service. I was young when my middle sister, Liana, spent a year teaching English in Honduras in college. I remember hearing she lived next to cannibals and being so freaked out, yet more fascinated, and in admiration of what a different life my sister was living in comparison to ours back home. My other sister, Marina, went to Bangladesh. When she came back she took us all to a Bangladeshis restaurant and I got to eat with my hands! This was rather exciting for a young girl, and the food even tasted good at that. Where was this place?! How badly I wanted to go eat this food with my hands for every next meal. There was so much out there and so much to comprehend for my little brain. It was so thrilling, and it was then, I knew I wanted to be just like my sisters. 

It was the summer before my Senior year began (July 28, 2007 to be exact) and I poured out my panicked feelings over college and my future into a MySpace blog. "I really, truly want to join the Peace Corps," I wrote. I typed out the steps I was going to have to take to get there: 1.) 4 year degree 2.) MORE volunteering 3.) Figure out HOW I want to help the world... and I concluded with this -

"Life is unexpected.

But Life is exciting.

I am making the most of mine."

The idea of joining the Peace Corps ended up getting lost in the conclusion of my senior year, and even throughout the majority of college. Yet I still spent my college years with the goal of serving others (as you don't just shed your upbringing at your high school graduation). The job I held for 4 years, and the multitude of volunteer opportunities that found me, were all preparing me for my future venture into the Peace Corps... I had just forgotten.

In 6 days I am leaving my country for at least 27 months. I am leaving my animals. I am leaving my friends. I am leaving my family. I am leaving my big California playground I call HOME. This may sound daunting to some and I'm not saying it isn't, but it's the scary things that entice me the most.

One thing my mom did for me was make me get back on my pony, Cricket, every single time he would roll over with me on his back. I was 4, and a big pony about to squish you is a scary thing. It didn't matter how much I cried and screamed, my mom stayed outside patiently waiting for me get back on my horse, even if the sun went down. This taught me to do the things that scare me the most. Because of this, I have spent many wonderful years running beautiful horses through flowering fields.

My mom not letting me quit riding my horse was my early introduction into my parents never letting me quit anything. Every year I took piano, I probably spent half the year of it wanting to quit. But I had made a commitment at the beginning of the year, and I had to see it out. I also wanted to quit volleyball because my coach was mean and made little 13 year old me cry... What do you think their answer was? Because of this I fell in love with volleyball and played my entire high school career. I will also forever have skills that will last me on the piano. I never quit anything now. In fact, the more my body or a part of my mind is telling me to quit, the more the other half of me likes the challenge to finish it out.

These weird "rules" my parents set also fed into my dietary habits. They made me eat my vegetables (I hated bell peppers, brussel sprouts, and broccoli). This created me to "never quit [a meal]" and "[eat things] that scared me the most," but this has created me to develop a taste for things that don't immediately please me. I have to give everything a chance, because if I do, I know I'll most likely end up loving it. (Brussel sprouts, bell peppers, and broccoli are now my favorite vegetables). Life is too short to NOT like things anyways, right?

All these in conclusion, these situations and places I have been, have set me on the path I am now, and it couldn't feel more perfect or right. This is why I'm doing what I'm doing, and I am excited for where I am going. I'm excited for the change that is about to be had in me.

“ALICE She drank from a bottle called DRINK ME And she grew so tall, She ate from a plate called TASTE ME And down she shrank so small. And so she changed, while other folks Never tried nothin' at all.”  ― Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends