Since I spent the last entry explaining the weekdays – it is only proper to follow that up with the weekend. The weekends here are dedicated to church and chatting. Many of my co workers stay alone and when asked what they do on weekends, they all just seem to stay around their houses. Personally, I can only sit around the house so long before I feel like I wasted the day. So, after wasting as much time in the morning as I can stand on breakfast and reading the newspaper- I head to town.
Mzuzu is a sprawling city with approximately 200,000 people (there has not been a census since 2008). People do not build up here- they build out... so the town is all one story buildings servicing the niche clientele which each shop owner has chosen. Most shops are made for one product only – there’s the place you go to buy bread, another which sells buckets, one which sells seeds, and another for lubricants (oil for cars). In the market the women follow the same trend of having their speciality produce which is always sold with a ‘maprize’ – an extra tomato or handful of beans to encourage your return visit. The stalls of food are in the exact same places as 2011, so I find navigating them easy and comfortably familiar. I meander around town purchasing food for the next week and greeting people in Tumbuka to downplay my skin color as best I can. However, no matter how much I chat with the women in the market or go out with Malawian friends from work- I will always be the ‘mzunugu’ - the white outsider – the elephant in the room. This is something which I think expats just get used to, and I am slowly accepting , once again- that everyone will stare at me and assume my privilege not matter how little I make here. In addition to my market visits, there are occasional meet ups with friends from work. Last week I went to Abrigado (a little outdoor bar) with two co-workers and answered questions like ‘why do so many Americans like Trump?’ and ‘you mean you don’t go to church?’ This week I met up with Benson (who worked with Temwa when I was last in Malawi ) and we shared a bottle of wine in the store where it was purchased. At first I thought it was odd, but that was the norm as people came in, shared a drink from the store shelf, and then went on to other business. Even a soldier, dressed in full fatigues, came in and quickly poured a beer into a water bottle and left. I turned a blind eye... who am I to question the only people in the country aloud to carry loaded weapons? And, occasionally, I get invited to the homes of co-workers to meet their families. Today I went to Miguel’s house (he is the cook and house cleaner for the office), I have been helping him with school fees and I think he felt it necessary that I meet his children. His house is situated next to a golf course (which in itself is a very odd juxtaposition) and on a hill side which is very precarious to climb down. Of course children gathered to see the mzungu as I sat in the plush red chair on the front porch. His house was no bigger than an American playhouse and had a porch ceiling held up by detached metal poles. Their shower was directly in front the porch and consisted of plastic and reeds in a small square above the cliff. Awkwardly each family member took turns going in and having a bucket bath while I sat and chatted with Miguel and his oldest daughter. His family was very kind and happy to chat with me in chitumbuka. A sister even stopped by to chat, and to see if I was in need of hiring anyone to cook or clean for me (again can’t get away from the mzunugu status). When she realised I could not help and Miguel seemed to get concerned with her pressuring for a job, she changed to chat about what I liked to do. ‘you like to do what? Go to church, drink beer, men, dancing?’ I explained that my boyfriend was coming in less than a week and her response was, ‘ah, you will enjoy then’. Girls will be girls Then, after exploring and chatting as best I can in broken languages- I return the house. Evenings are spent reading, making dinner, texting with George, a hot bath, and early bedtimes. Here time runs slow, but compared to working two jobs and finishing grad school (how I spent the last few years) I am happy to have time to just sit and read and take in the pleasantries of chatting and experiencing new cultures.
1 Comment
Lynn Keener
6/5/2016 05:07:32 pm
Keep up the good work. Love to read your posts.
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Bonnie HarveyCurrently working in northern Malawi as Programs and Evaluations Coordinator for Temwa Archives
June 2019
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