In these days of March...

I’m in town restocking on antibiotics…to make sure I have some at site in the event of another spontaneous infection. Ah, the joys of rural village life. And I have decided to stay an extra day [until Sunday] as I need a mental health day. School has been rather dramatic the past few weeks…with end of term exams, one of my favourite students being suspended for 6 weeks because the deputy head teacher was in a drunken rage, a form 1 girl fainting from epilepsy she refuses to have treated because she is a member of the Zion Church…and they don’t believe in modern medicine, and lastly, a form 4 student was beat about the head by a from 1 student wielding 2 bricks. Blood is always a poignant reminder of the precarious nature of first aid in this world I live in…I had to have him wipe his own face because I had no gloves and several open cuts and wounds on my hands. And I really didn’t want to have to take the PEP [Post Exposure Prophylactic]…the side effects are horrendous. And so life moves along here.

I have lived my way into Kalumbu village: the neighborhood kids no longer find me amusing – and hang out but not just to stare at me or hassle me for stuff; there are two adorable little girls that demurely greet me as I walk to market which then somehow makes the drunken men that assault me later more bearable; Stella, Isaac and Chimwemwe [students whose school fees I’m paying] are at my house nearly every day – to chat, or get water, or fix the fence, or build drying racks together or bring me greetings from their various relations; my neighbors are already panicking about my eminent departure in December [“Koma, tamakusolowerani panopa, madam! Mwina munthu kuti adzabwera kunoku…mwina munthu adzakhala umunthu sabwino! Mwina sadzalankula Chichewa!” – But Madam, we are used to YOU now! Maybe this new one that will come, maybe they will not be a good person. Maybe they will not speak Chichewa!]. For a people that rarely think far ahead in the future, this has certainly captured their attention. So, I am working on them – encouraging them by ensuring them that the next volunteer will also speak Chichewa and be friendly and will chat with them and will help the students. And I have come to understand that time is not my own: that visitors will always show up on the afternoon that I have an insane migraine, that it will always rain ten minutes after I hang my laundry and that I will always be 2 hours early to meetings - even if by my watch I am 20 minutes late. I have learnt patience.

We are closing term1 soon…which means holiday! Yahoo! We are spending time hiking and at the beach…a quiet reprieve. But I am so very happy here, in my life here. Though it does come in waves, I feel truly at home here. I feel safe and protected and loved by my neighbors. I feel valued by my fellow teachers. I feel respected and appreciated by my students [most of the time…]. I have a splendid garden with passion fruit vines spreading, mango tree seedlings sprouting, pumpkins, squash, tomatoes and maize ready to harvest as the rains begin to come to end and the cold season moves in.