Hands

Delayed Malawi Blog


I originally wrote this blog in Malawi about half way into the trip. But, as we all learned, things don’t always work in Africa the way we plan. I could not get the internet to cooperate when I needed it. So, I’m starting over and hope for a good memory…

This is my third trip to Malawi and I feel comfortable and surprisingly at home. So many things are familiar. The landscape, the smiles, the tempo, the bumpy road to Mindanti. Because much of the newness that first-timers see and feel is not as present for me, I am able to more easily relax into the relationships and connections.


Each day we have spiritual reflection and Jon Eden gives us something to focus on when we meet in the morning. We have the day to ponder and observe. I’ve decided to focus on our subject of “hands”. We were asked first to consider the differences and similarities of how our hands looked compared to those of the people of Malawi and see where that would lead us. Some hands were black and some white. Some rough, some soft, some tiny and fragile looking. It was what the hands did and represented that came into focus and got my attention.

In the van one day, we tied together strands of yarn as gifts so that the children could make bracelets from them – giving hands. For the children who got them – receiving hands. People waving at us as we drove by in the van, and being greeted with that particularly African two-part handshake – welcoming hands. Working side by side on the clinic – plastering and painting – working hands. A seasoned and experienced hand takes mine and throws the mud plaster to the wall in one motion - helping hands. All of us applauding when some piece of work was completed – celebrating hands. Eating lunch prepared by the women of the village – again giving and receiving hands. The people of Mindanti washed our hands before lunch with water from a pitcher – sacramental hands, theirs and ours. The children painted pictures with brushes and fingers – creating hands. Juan drawing faces in the dirt and learning the names for "nose" and "eyebrow" - hands that help learn and teach and bring laughter and joy. Turning the jumprope – playing hands. Acknowledging the workmen at the end of our stay - thanking hands. All of us clapping as the children sang hymns in the church –praising hands. I could go on.

All these acts are in their own way creational.

What a gift God has given us in hands.

Madeline

Jump ropes

Tuesday.

This afternoon a classic scene transpired that was both telling and amusing. For the first time on our trip, we brought out a jump rope that we had brought for the children in Mindanti. The gift was met with excitement, as several girls clamored to go first. Lees and Abigail swung the rope, but despite their enthusiasm, the children couldn't master the concept. They kept jumping too soon. We tried several ways of teaching them to wait until the rope hit the ground before jumping, but just couldn't make any progress. A single girl, Ghana, did manage to jump proficiently, but mainly because she jumped extremely high. Finally, we gave up and handed the rope over to the children.

They instantly put us in our place. The two girls who took the rope swung it with three times the speed and force that we had, while more than one girl moved to the center with perfect ease, twirling around in circles as they jumped. They were phenomenal; I'd never seen anything like it. It was astonishing, amusing, and very humbling. Here we had spent so much time perfectly confident that we knew better, and subjecting the Malawian girls to our rules for the game. It is so easy assume the role of teacher that we forget that we are involved in a partnership. We need to remember how much we stand to learn from each of the people we are befriending in Malawi.

The Teacher

I nicknamed one young boy who I met in Mindanti "The Teacher" because he was intent on teaching me Chichewa, and equally determined to learn the English equivalents for words in his language. On our last day in the village, I took out paper and a pen and he wrote his name, Golassi, and we began our word game. I would point to something, like a dress, and he would excitedly shout out the word in Chichewa - "dlessi!". I would then write down each word in both languages. The widest grin I have ever seen never left his face, and I marveled at his maturity and zest for learning. While probably no older than 11 or 12 years old, he radiated a maturity beyond his years and a total ease with taking on the role of teacher for his much older azunga student. He returned to me again and again after our language lesson to throw the Frisbee, attempt a round of "Miss Mary Mack", hold my hands, or simply smile up at me with a glow that reached all the way down into my soul. As we were leaving Midanti after our last day at the work site, as the tears streamed down my face, I searched the crowd of children for The Teacher but he was nowhere to be found. Maybe he had already moved on to his next willing student. I thanked God for my tears and for the love shared between inhabitants of entirely different universes who managed to communicate on the most basic human level. While the word game delighted us both, we did not need words to communicate in the way that matters most. - Catherine Hilyard

Adaptability

We had the day all scheduled - 9 a.m. departure to Chigula, 11 a.m. tea with our driver John and his family, 1 p.m. lunch at the hotel, 3 p.m. pick-up by host families and evening with our host families. We knew by 8:58 a.m. that our schedule would not be followed, yet again. . .but adaptability is the essential item to pack on any trip!

We finally hit the road to Chigula around 9:15 - happy to report that all the plaster is up and they are putting in pipes and hanging doors. The view from the back patio is amazing! After about 45 minutes at Chigula just as we were about to get back into the vans we were told that we were invited to lunch at Dunstan's, there goes the schedule again. After an amazing meal at Dunstan's - far too extravagant for our needs - we were off to tea about 2 hours late.

John, his wife Chimwemwe, and their three daughters were such gracious hosts. We had tea, coffee, muffins and the most delicious spicy meatballs - yum! Two hours behind scheduled we were back at the hotel grabbing our bags for our home stays. Unfortunately, a few groups weren't able to be matched up with host families, but the three groups that were, were ready to go. We were sitting on the back steps when a very well dressed man dashed up to the group and said, "I'm here to pick up Jonathan and Juan, but I need to come back and 5:30" and off he dashed. J&J decided to join the other non home stayers and went off to the market to shop. That left two groups.

Auster arrived shortly after and stayed with us as we waited for the last two groups to get picked up and waited and waited. Soon all the groups were picked up, but 3 hours later Karla and I were still left. Ever faithful, we continued to wait. The sun set, the moon rose, the bugs came out, still no host family.

After 3 and a half hours a very nice looking man appeared. Is this our ride we thought? "Are you waiting for me?" "Maybe! Who are you picking up? Are you from the church?" "No, I'm here for a pick-up." (Did the family send a driver to come get us, I thought?) "OH??!!" "Yes, I'm here for the group of 6 that is going to the Italian restaurant." Our hopes were dashed. As I realized our host family wasn't coming to get us, I decided it was ok. We had been adaptable all day, what was one more snafu? Because we left late we were able to see views that we would not have seen had we left earlier. Had we not had lunch with Dunstan we would have missed out on a wonderful opportunity to eat home cooked food and meet his family. Had we not had tea later in the day we would have been hungry while waiting for our host family. Had our host family arrived we would have missed out on a wonderful meal with our travelling family.

Another day in Malawi another life lesson learned.

Mindante Work day 2

Today was our second work day and we all left feeling tired and exhilarated. Our first work day was really a warm up due to its shortness. (We had gotten a late start due to errands to buy water and food for lunch.)

Today however, we got an early start and were dressed for work on the clinic building. Our tasks included either plastering or painting. I found plastering to be suprisingly fun (especially since Juan suggested that I think about icing a cake) so I headed immediately for a trowel upon arrival. Some of the others returned to jobs they had yesterday as well - such as painting doorways. My natural inclination was to return to plastering since the workmen helping me were very encouraging. It's always nice to know that you are improving your skills!

After several exhausting hours of trying to smooth wet plaster to a perfect finish, I decided to do crafts with the children. We had brought some colorful yarn for bracelets and games. When our vans pull up to the building site, children run as fast as they can to greet us, waving and smiling all the way. It is a delightful greeting and we love being able to soak up their enthusiasm. In addition to crafts we brought frisbees. I am not sure who enjoys the playtime more, the children or the adults!

This trip has been a wonderful exchange of hard work and shared fun. I am very happy that I came to see St. James work in Malawi firsthand.

Plastering and Playing

I write this at the end of another wonderfully exhausting day in Malawi. For the second day in a row, we traveled two bumpy hours – did I mention bumpy? – to Mindante, a small village dotted with one-room brick homes. The exhaustion and exhilaration are both physical and mental. The energy required simply to endure the jostling of the internal organs during the van ride is a surprising strain, and plastering is more physically demanding than I’d ever imagined. I’m discovering muscles I never knew I had!

I envisioned this trip as furthering my desire to be of service, to make myself useful to others. What I did not expect was to be humbled by the experience of being taught to plaster by a man within whom I share no common language and little life experience. That first day I realized that the only chance I have of being of service here – and likely elsewhere throughout my life – is to become and to remain teachable. And with that realization I knew that this man – whose name I can’t pronounce, and certainly can’t spell – had quite possibly been of greater service to me than I can ever hope to have been to him as I work on this clinic. And frankly, my plastering skills aren’t great, and I no doubt slowed down the process substantially!


The mental exhaustion comes from the vast range of emotions I’ve experience throughout the day – from the minute we arrive until long after we’ve driven away. How does your heart not spill over with joy when children run down the road after the van, waving with enthusiasm? Look at these faces! We’ve spent hours upon hours playing with the children, learning to communicate without words, which, in its own way, created an unexpected sense of intimacy. A young girl slipped her tiny hand into mine today, as I stood there feeling helpless, wondering what to do with myself next (and knowing I needed a breather from the back-breaking task of plastering). I suddenly felt like I had a purpose again. And yet. The need is so great that this evening as we drove away I felt as though our work here is like trying to build a mountain, one stone at a time. An impossible task. I don’t know what to do with these thoughts. But in my heart of hearts I know that I am in the service of a greater good, even if my actions are like a drop in the ocean. I am grateful to be a part of this, and am glad to have a community to share it with.

We Arrive

The St. James' Church August Malawi Missioners arrived this evening in Blantyre after one 17-hour flight, an overnight in a hotel in Johannesburg, and two shorter flights today. The group pictured here includes: (clockwise, back to front) Jonathan Bays, Karla Taylor, Bartholt Clagett, Lees Patriacca, Adams Pinckney, Jennifer Brown, Juan Valles, Catherine Hilyard, Abigail Huffman, Leeanna Varga, and Madeline Schroth. (Not pictured: the Rev. Jon Eden; he'll be joining us tomorrow.)


We were overjoyed to see the our friends Father Justice, John, and Douglas who came to the airport to greet us and drive us to the Malawi Sun Hotel. Beside the van in the hotel parking lot, Father Justice gathered us together and offered prayers of thanksgiving for our safe travel and blessings for our partnership with the Anglican Diocese of Southern Malawi, and our work in the days ahead. We offered him our blessings too; on Saturday he'll be traveling to New York City to spend the next four months ministering to our congregation at St. James' and taking classes at The General Seminary.

Tonight we checked into our rooms, shared dinner (Indian food) in the hotel restaurant, and met for our first spiritual reflection, discussing a poem by Mary Oliver, called "The Summer Day." Tomorrow we begin working on the health clinic in Mindante -- St. James' missioners built the foundation a few years ago. We've been told the building now boasts walls, roof, window and doorframes, even the plumbing pipes -- our group will be plastering and painting interior walls. We can't wait to get started!