Suit up and go play

Have you ever asked yourself what happens of all those fancy clothes or dresses that we had to wear for special occasions when we were kids. You know the nice dresses that we were expected to have at weddings but were not allowed to play with or get dirty. Our parents would pay a fortune, we would wear it once, not be allowed to wear them on a regular basis, because, what if we get it dirty or damage it, then grow too big to even wear it a second time…and finally, our mom would end up giving it away to someone she knew or to charity. Well guess what? Guess where those little fancy dresses get a second life? Guess where they are used to play with and experience all the pleasure and problems of being wore by a kid? : in Africa!! All the little girls in my village, and else where around here are proudly suited up and playing in the mud or sand all day long.  Moral of the story…well two things: one, you can play in the mud and get dirty while being suited up and still look super cute, and two, if you are not going to wear it again, give to charity, it will be proudly played with as any kids’ clothes should be.

When life tips over and flips

This morning I woke up, made some rice, stopped at the market to buy a few bottles of Fanta, then before heading to work, biked to the hospital to visit my neighbour and friend. I wanted to bring her some food and drinks, and moral support, even if only in my broken chichewa! Her, her husband and two of their relatives had a big accident on Monday night coming back from a funeral a couple hours away in the box of a pickup truck (matola). My host sister went to the same funeral but luckily came back earlier. Apparently, the matola they were on was going fast on the narrow road when they met a car that was also going too fast. The matola tried to move on the side of the road to prevent a collision with the car, but the old and unstable vehicle couldn’t handle this sudden turn: it tipped and flipped a few times. Things would have been so much worst though if they would have hit the car. My friend has a broken arm, hit her head and has a bunch of scratches; her husband is worst, he has a dislocated shoulder, a broken collar bone, a broken jaw and a lot of scratches. He is still waithing for an xray of the sholder, but the power is not strong enough right now, even with the back up generator to de xrays!! ahhh, this is Africa. But no one died, lost a part of their body, damaged their brain or eyes, so in a few months they will both be back on their feet. My friend Flora is taking care of their three kids and people from the village are taking turns to visit them and bring food, drinks, wash their clothes and sheets and assist them. They should be out in a few days. 

It was my first time visiting people at the hospital. I was shocked. I already knew that the hospital does not take care of anything else than treating the patients, which means that family and friends need to bring food, drinks and help with showering and other stuff. There are many things about the situation that never crossed my mind before this morning as I was taking them for granted. Here is a description of the scene so you can better understand. First, it is really hot in Salima, and particularly in the building. Then no one as a room, the male are on one side of the hospital, in a sort of dorm room and the women on the other side, in the same type of room. I first went to the men’s dorm and saw a bunch of old metal beds with small mattresses. Then went to the women’s to realize that they don’t have any mattress or pillow, they are either on the floor or on a metal bed frame. There is no TV, no AC, no ventilation, no bug nets and no screens in the windows. Your visitors have to bring you blankets and pillows, otherwise you have nothing. This is sad. I realize that if it was me there, hurt and in one of those bed, I would be crying. I thought to myself that they were lucky that the accident happened close enough from their family and friends because it could have happened anywhere else and they would have been admitted in another hospital. It got me to think a lot. I travel a lot, so things like this could happen to me and then I would be on my sad little bed, with no blankets or pillow and no mattress, with no one to take care of me and bring me food. I’d eventually be transfer to a better hospital because we have insurances, but that wouldn’t help the situation, here in Malawi, and in many countries of Africa, you need a full time visitor to be with you and help you, otherwise, you don’t get food, drinks or showers. It made me feel far away from home. So next time you complain about the health system, realize that it could be worst if you were somewhere else in the world.

Ge

Playing your house on the stock market

Well into the dry season, a few weeks before the hottest months of the year in Malawi, the landscape is pale brown and dramatic. It’s hard to think that there can be life and that something can grow out of the dry sand. Many trees have lost their leaves.

Only a few months ago, I remember being in Karonga, during the rainy season, surrounded by beautiful leaves and greens, tall maize crops and big trees. I also remember my house being flooded and many villages in Malawi suffered from the same situation. A few months ago, I wrote a post about the floods, about the fact that some villagers build their mud huts and farms on flood plains. I said that they were risking a lot, that even though it was more rich soil, they would eventually get flooded and lose everything. This affirmation is still true, but I realized last Friday why they are ready to take that risk and go with it. They are not without knowing that there are risks of floods, they simply try to make the best out of it.

I was doing field work with a Water Monitoring Assistant, going far into the District to follow up on newly installed boreholes and make sure that the communities are using the water and that the quality of it is good enough. As I’m on the motorcycle, looking around,  driving through the dry and brown landscape, I wondered to myself how can there still be vegetables at the market, only few farmers here use irrigation systems. Then we went over Kamusu bridge, I noticed there is no river underneath, not even a stream, only a few patches of water where women were washing clothes or dishes and kids playing. I realized that there must only be water when there is a lot of rain during the storms, but the rest of the year this is farmable land, offering a soil rich in nutrients and water. There are farms and crops along the path of what seems to be a river bed. It is beautiful, green, flourishing, growing. It is like an oasis in the middle of the desert. I understood why those farmers and family take the risk of being flooded every now and then; this area offers them a chance to grow almost everything they want all year round, even at the driest of the year, without any irrigation system. They can sell there harvest for more money at the market as food is becoming scarcer and tougher to grow on most of the land. I think if I was in their situation, I too would consider the option. It’s a bit like playing your house on the stock market…if you are good at predicting the flow, you’ll get rich and prosper, but if you’re not, you’ll lose big!

All those little things

Today’s post will be dedicated to all the small things I see or experienced on a regular basis that help put a smile on my face. There are many beautiful moments and if I don’t capture them here, I fear I’ll forget them and they will be lost in my memory without making it to your imagination, so here we go…to beauty

First, the village women: They are splendid. They are strong and age much faster in country like this one, but they have wisdom. Most spend the day working, carrying a baby on their back while doing all their tasks and caring for their other kids who play around. They have an amazing smile and a lot of charisma. I truly am amazed by them. Every morning I observe them while doing my tasks. They are awake a 5am and work at home or at the market all day. Even when they are sick or when one of their children kept them up all night, they are friendly, gorgeous and strong. They remind me a lot of my own mother who grew up in conditions fairly similar. I see a lot of her in them, might be a reason why I love to be around them and why they bring me back on my feet when I feel sad.

The young kids: Once they are done with the “Muzungu Boooo” or “Helloooooo”, I love them. I love looking at them play together and fighting over a piece of plastic or anything. They don’t need much, they are so friendly. Kids here have to help their mom a lot, even at a young age. It is not rare to see a three years old sweeping the yard or carrying stuff on their head. The little girls will start carrying the other babies on their back, cooking and helping when they are about seven. Many more parents are sending their kids to school now a days, even their daughters, but there is a long way to go to improve education. They play, they laugh, they fight, they yell, they fall…then they get up and play again…

The markets with its bulk food, second hand stuff and small restaurants. I love to go their for lunch and wander around to get my food to cook at night, finding cloths in the piles of stuff while chatting with the ladies. Good way to observe the reality of the people living here.

The tailors and their patience. First they fix the clothes you buy at the market that need alteration, but they also make clothes for a ridiculously low price. I can design and draw my clothes and they’ll make them. Sometimes they look amazing, sometimes it takes a few try to get the right look, but I love, love that… don’t want to go back to Canada, tailors are too expensive! haha. Ok I could learn how to do it myself and get a sewing machine. I might actually.

The goats, especially the baby goats…. what else is there to say. I laugh every time I see a goat, they are clumsy and so so cute. They are every where around except  maybe in cities. Even my house in Senga Bay and my office are often visited by village goats.

The randomness of life here: the weekends that bring friends and activities that you didn’t know you could do here; the people you meet who are often really nice and have awesome stories to tell (not talking about the annoying drunk dudes or annoying men asking you a a ton of questions and won’t let go who I’m scared of); the food you are craving that you can end up doing if creative enough; the slow pace of life when you are not in a hurry, or if you are too stressed, it forces you to calm down; the generosity of people when you need them to help you; the lake…

Enjoy the little things, enjoy the beauty in them, and smile!
Ge