Ten of the week

1. It's a full moon. Watching the night sky is something I always enjoyed. I just seem to notice it more. I suspect this is because I have nothing better to do and when the new crescent moon comes, it looks like the moon is smiling at me.

2. Inefficiency is frustrating. It has taken me over three weeks to try and get the phone line switched over to my name. Actually, all I wanted was to change the address in order to receive the bills… so that I could be a good person and pay the bills. However, I first had to terminate the phone line, then apply for a line, and then request the original number. Couldn't someone just punch in five digits of my post box into the computer? In addition, I had to photocopy my passport, registration card, employment permit, and almost got conned into giving passport photos until I clued into the scheme that maybe the guy just wanted my picture. When I asked why he needed photos, he faltered. Today I'm going to check if the bills are in fact being delivered to my post box. Fingers crossed.

3. Will people ever stop staring at me? When will I stop being novel? A man tripped over a tree stump while intensely starring at me.

4. I sent a package to Canada. The post office ran out of the larger denomination of stamps, so I had to stick a stamp on all free space on the front of the package essentially framing the address. Hope it arrives.

5. There is no equivalent word for sex in Chinyanja. In local language what is usually said is the man and woman are going to bed (side note: homosexuality is illegal). Furthermore, the words to describe sexual organs are derogatory and offensive terms. Interesting.

6. Talking on the phone is so refreshing. I used to spend outrageous amounts of time chatting about the details of our lives. I miss that. Can't wait until my next phone chat.

7. I've been looking for an iPod charger and I've found one. I am still in awe of what I can find here.

8. Printing digital photos here is ridiculously expensive. One photo is over 1$. There's no competition and really no strong demand. Just like buying an iPod charger, printing digital photos what not something I thought I would do here.

9. The case of the attack of red ants in office. First rustling in the wall and four cockroaches run out. Then the red ants spill out of the wall. Literally – spilling, flowing out of the wall. Apparently everything, including cockroaches run away from red ants.

10. I have a maid. That's what she calls herself – I prefer housekeeper. She's been to the house twice in the last week and I am slowly coming to terms with someone else cleaning my house, doing my laundry (!), taking out the garbage. Her cleaning standards are higher than mine. She dusted a high ledge that I would never even think to dust. How does someone take so much pride in cleaning up someone else's personal space. Her first words to me: madam, this house is very dirty. I like her.

And I'm back

I ran away. I needed some perspective – on work, on my new living
arrangement, and on being in Zambia. Then I came back and one day at
the office made me want to run away again. I'm trying to find a
feeling that maybe cannot be found. Malawi is beautiful. After four
days on the beach, I was slowly getting to that feeling – waking up
happy and with a relatively clear mind. I'll take a beach and good
book any day. However, dealing with a typical Monday morning at work
clouded whatever space I had cleared in my mind. Another vacation is
in order – soon!

I've written on Malawi before – on how I think it seems better of than
Zambia (nicer roads, infrastructure) and people seem friendlier.
However, I suppose it's the difference between visiting a country and
living in one. Of course, I've had more of a chance to discover what I
don't like about Zambia. Still, while rural Zambia compared to rural
Malawi are indeed very similar, I find Lilongwe, the capital less
hurried than Lusaka. I was shocked at the lack of hassle I got going
through the bus stations in Lilongwe, which some days I feel is
impossible in Lusaka. Maybe I smelled bad in Lilongwe and people kept
their distance.

I could talk more about the beautiful secluded beach, which I was
happy to find mostly tourist and backpacker free, but the bus journey
back from Northern Malawi was a nut case.

Bus 1 – Mzuzu to Lilongwe
Official bus capacity – around 20. Actual number of people packed in –
40. The "seat" I thought I had was actually a quarter of one seat and
half of a seat 10cm lower. So I lost all feeling in my butt and
because a giant bag of rice took up most of my leg room, all the
feeling in my legs went as well. Had a good chat with some medical
students from Wales doing electives in Malawi. They commented on the
poverty: "I didn't expect the poverty to be this bad." Hmm… yeah
poverty. It is possible that I've stopped noticing it after a while.
It had blurred, become less obvious. Interestingly, I think I needed
that reminder from a new pair of eyes that this poverty is extreme,
unnecessary, unacceptable. There will always be poorer and richer
people… just not the kind of poverty that dictates life or death.

Bus 2 – Lilongwe to Mchinji (near Malawi/Zambia border)
I had a seat in the minibus, but it didn't have a back. Okay for the
first hour, but soon discovered it was hard to sit properly so my back
wasn't oddly curved. The man beside me was carrying a television. When
the bus hit a pothole too hard, the tv shifted and squashed me to the
window. Then I felt something move under me. Umm… someone else's feet…
no! Two chickens! How did I not notice them when I got on the bus.
Then for the next hour all I could think about were those poor
chicken. I had visions of them breaking free and wreaking havoc in the
minibus. When we the police at roadblock insisted on searching the
bus, we all tumbled out – not unlike a clown car. Then to my surprise,
a white guy had somehow also been squashed in. And get this, another
Canadian from the same province. What are the chances – first to run
into another foreigner on a minibus (there are a plethora of minibuses
to take), to meet a Canadian, and then a Canadian who grew up not far
from where I did.

Bus 3 – Chipata (near Zambia/Malawi border) to Lusaka
Went to bus station to make sure I had a ticket for the first bus out
in the morning. I discovered that if you arrive at night and taking
the 4am bus, you can sleep on the bus. I'd never done that before but
the hassle of getting a taxi at 3am, wasn't really worth it so, I
boarded the bus and went to sleep. At about 1am, a group of 15 young
English kids boarded the bus. Huh? Yup, so at one point there were
more white than black people on the bus. I was confused. Chipata is
not exactly a tourist destination.

Needless to say, I was sore, tired, and dirty when I finally rolled into Lusaka.

Back at work for a week now. Plans for the new little bit: Workshops.
Monitoring visits. Hiring new staff – hopefully. Ministry of Education
working group. Book distribution. HIV programmes at village level.
Youth group launches (hmm… PEPFAR and abstinence based programmes – a
future post).

I need ideas for happy posts. Maybe I should write about beaches and
good books after all.