A Day in My Life in Malawi

This morning I named a baby. Not because in the last 4 months I magically got pregnant and popped out a child myself, but because a mother asked me to give her baby a name. I arrived at the health center and was given the news that one of the pregnant HSA’s, Ester, had given birth to a little boy early this morning and she wanted to see me when I arrived to work. When I entered the room where she was (along with 3 other mothers who had just given birth), I was immediately handed a baby, not the baby I named, but another, different newborn baby. (Apparently my arms looked empty and needed to be filled with a little ball of cuteness.) When I asked Ester what she had named her little boy, who was being held by another amayi (woman) in the room, she smiled and told me that she was waiting for me because she wanted me to name him. Although this may seem quite strange from your standpoint, I guess here in Malawi PCV’s are asked somewhat regularly to name newborn babies. I’m not sure why Malawians would just let anyone name their children, but either way, to me it was an honor (and also a blessing to the child in a way as many people here seem to be named any English word a Malawian might know. Example: I’ve met children named America, Love, Blessing, Memory, Boneface??, Savior, Friday, Flower….the list goes on and on). But the fact that Ester has only known me for not even 3 months, and she chose me to give the name to her second child, really made me feel special. I was in shock, and at the same time all of a sudden felt a lot of pressure to pick out a name that was suitable, that she liked, and most importantly that Malawians could pronounce easily. Also, even though it was tempting to name the child something like Apple, I resisted and decided to stray away from random English words like the ones I listed above. So, I named the little boy Bernard, Bernie for short, after my grandpa who passed away shortly after I left for Malawi. I told Ester that Bernard was my grandfather’s name, and she seemed very pleased and happy that her little boy now had a name.

Shortly after something as foreign to me as naming a child that wasn’t mine, I watched a small child pee on the floor (right through his shorts) in the room of the health center where the not-any-longer-pregnant mothers rest after giving birth. I was looking at him, holding the random baby whom I mentioned above, thinking about how cute the little boy standing in front of me was, when out of no where a puddle emerged, and he was standing in it. Id by lying if I said I didn’t laugh just a little. Most kids who aren’t potty trained in the U.S. where diapers, or pull-ups, or something. Well, not here, for most children at least. I can’t say 100%, but I’m pretty sure kids don’t even wear underwear a lot of the time. When they are really young, and they are wearing something, it’s normally a towel, and they are probably less than a year old. After the mother, who also just gave birth, realized that her son had just made a puddle on the floor, she scooped him up, left the room, and came back with what looked sort of like a mop. She mopped up the mess, child on her back, put the mop back, and sat back down on the bed where she was previously laying. Apparently there was no need to change the little boys shorts?? This fazed no one, well besides me, as it is just another day living with these adorable, lovable, and kind of dirty children. There was not more I could do besides just shake my head a little, and realize that I live in Malawi now, not the U.S.

Every morning, or almost every morning, I arrive at the health center around half 7. (This is how Malawians say seven-thirty....I swear my English will be completely different when I get home.) In the mornings I usually go to the outreach clinics with the HSA’s, helping where I am needed. I am always told that we are leaving for outreach at 7:30am, so this is why I come at that time. However, there is a thing called Malawian time….aka they are always late. So when I arrive at half 7 sometimes we don’t leave until 8 or even half 8. Anyways this gives me a little time in the morning to say hello to everyone, or you know, name babies, and watch small children pee on the floor. This morning in particular though, my friend Limbi offered to share his breakfast with me while I waited to leave for outreach. Limbi is a pharmacy student doing kind of like what we would call an internship in the States, and lives in a room that is owned by the health center, so I often chat with him while I wait. He was making a traditional Malawi breakfast called mphala, which is ufa (corn flour) mixed with hot water, some salt, and then sugar is added when it is done. Mphala is pretty much another form of nsima (which I explained in another post), but more watery, and eaten for breakfast instead of lunch and dinner. I had not tasted it before, but it was actuadid they get up there???lly pretty good. Even though I had already had tea for breakfast and wasn’t really hungry, he insisted. As Malawians often do when it comes to sharing their food. Of course as I was just about to start eating the HSA’s were ready to leave, but told me to take my time and that they would wait. It’s not like there is a schedule to follow or anything….

When I returned from my outreach clinic a few hours later there were more surprises (well actually nothing really surprises me anymore, everything has just sort of become normal) waiting for me. As I walked through the gate of my fence (which was built to keep the goats out of my yard and garden), there on the opposite side of my yard, walking on top of the brick wall was a goat. I seriously don’t even know what to say about this. All I could do was laugh in amazement of how he got up there. Imagine, a goat, desperate enough for food, to find a way on top of a brick wall, that mind you, is taller than me. Like how the heck did he get up there? Jump? I don’t know. I swear they are magic or something when it comes to finding anyway to find food. I threw a clump of mud at it, and that was that. To say the least, I am starting to hate goats.

After all the excitement of naming a baby, having breakfast made for me, and the magical, flying goat, I cooked my lunch over the fire, ate, and spent an hour deep inside the pages of my current book. Reading has become one of my favorite hobbies in Malawi. I’ve read so many books already, and can say I am happy that I filled a big part of my luggage with them. Sometimes it’s a way to escape the stressors of this life, and just relax.

Because my Chichewa lesson was cancelled this afternoon due to my teacher needing to go into town (instead he text me and told me to write a pretend letter to a friend in Chichewa and he’d read it tomorrow), my friend Issac (HSA Issac, not the pastor from Khwidzi) went on an adventure; a hunt for a banana tree. Even though the goats are clearly smarter than I am, thinking that building a fence would keep them out, I am still determined to grow my own food. My first garden has been planted for about a week now, and a lot of the seeds are already starting to sprout. I started digging my second bed this weekend, and plan to have more seeds in the ground by the end of this week. I also have been researching and talking to other volunteers about banana trees, and recently decided that I’d like one in my yard. When I mentioned this to Isaac, he insisted on escorting me to a land full of banana trees. I wish I had had my camera. It was beautiful! We biked through backcountry Malawi for about 30-45 minutes and before I knew it we were surrounded by gorgeous amounts of green. Banana trees everywhere. What I thought might take a few hours, took about 10 minutes, and before I even realized Isaac had a tree dug up and was ready to head back. Malawians. Wow. They are just amazing.

So yeah. That’s just an example of an average day in my current life. I’ve had some requests for a blog post stating “what I do everyday.” But the truth is, everyday is different. And even if I were to have plans, there’s a good chance they are cancelled and rescheduled to a different day. Maybe I should have written more about how I’m actually helping people here or my health projects (aka why I’m in Malawi), but I guess I’ll save that for another day. Anyways, these little stories are what make my everyday life an adventure. Until next time…..

#peacecorps