Muli Bwanji.
This summer, I spent six weeks in Malawi, a country in southeastern Africa.
It was quite an adventure.
Now, it's been a while since I've written on here. I'm certainly out of the blogsphere loop now. I'm not really sure if anyone will read this, outside of the handful of family members and friends I'll send a link to. But that's okay. I just want a little space to write about my time in Malawi. I need to write about it before the memories start fading and I start forgetting things that I'd do better to remember. I've been home just a little over a week, and that's already started happening to me.
I want to remember the taste of nsima, the staple food of Malawi. The taste of locust that Dennis, a Malawian seminary student, brought to the library one day for us to try. The taste of Rachel F.'s cooking.
I want to remember the smell of hard-packed dirt that we sat on while playing games with children in the villages, and the smell of the pineapple sobo that we served them. The smell of Mama Rieben's brownies in the oven.
Then there's the feeling of cichlids (small, colorful freshwater fish) in Lake Malawi biting our toes. The feeling of riding truck-bed along the bumpy dirt roads, and the feeling of a Malawian handshake.The feeling of a chitengi tied around my waist.
The sound of women singing in Chichewa. Palibe ofana ndi yesu, palibe ofana naye. The sound of the call to prayer and roosters in the morning. The sound of children excitedly shouting "Mzungu!" (white foreigner). The sound of each of my team member's laugh.
I don't want to forget the sight of women carrying their mwana (baby) on their backs, tied on with a chitengi. The sight of a goat in his newly constructed goat pen. The children's smiles when we greeted them in Chichewa and asked for their names.
At the time, I didn't realize those things were significant or even realize I was noticing them. But now, thinking of them bring me right back to Africa. Thinking of the taste Rachel's crocodile ravioli, the smell of the roads after it rained, or the sound of little Ammie's voice transports me right back to Lilongwe and Ntcheu, and reminds me of what I was doing and what I was learning.
I'm hoping to write an entry about each week we spent in Malawi. So - if you're reading this - stay tuned for those?
Zikomo <3
love,
me
Photo Credit: Mark B.
Photo Credit: Mark B.
