Malawian Proverbs

Sitting in the office with my colleague Eddie, I learn that the Malawian government has made a commitment to phase out a toxic compenent of HIV treatment. This response was partially triggered by an advocacy letter that Eddie himself signed.

Laughing, he say's 'I'm glad for the result. I thought I had burnt my fingers signing that letter'.

I sit dumbfounded for a moment, trying to understand what he is saying. After a second I realize that he is saying that he thought he had made a career limiting move by signing the letter, a very political act of advocacy.

After congratulating him oncemore on such a huge victory, I start thinking about the use of proverbs here. What a simple and beautiful way to express himself. It gives the listener an image, ignites the mind and accurately conveys his message. Burning ones fingers is much nicer than saying 'I thought I screwed myself over'

Malawians use a plethora of proverbs in daily life. These are used for expressing thoughts and feelings as well as imparting lessons.

Coming from a very direct culture, these mind twisters are oftentimes lost on me. Its a shame that I can't seem to wrap my head around more because they are one of the parts of Malawian culture that I appreciate most.

After a year here, I've managed to learn a few that I apply to my experience in Malawi.

Being that I'm leaving this week, I wanted to share the proverbs that have helped me understand this experience.

1) Proverb: 'Walira mvula walira matope.'

Translation: 'He who cries for rain cries for mud.'

In a country where over 80% of Malawians engage in subsistence agriculture (growing their own food to eat), the rains are fundamental to life. Mud being a byproduct of rain, the proverb reminds us that if we ask for something, we have to also be prepared to take what comes along with it.

I came to Malawi because I desperately wanted to learn about a different way of life, to develop as a person and to hopefully to make a difference. My time here has allowed me space to do these things but hasn't been without challenges. The proverb reminds me to suck it up when I'm taking a cold shower, sitting in the dark or craving cheese - because these challenges are the mud to my rain.

2) Proverb: 'Zidze pano ndi zatonse'

Translation: 'That which befalls one of us befalls all of us.'

Child in Rural Nkhotakota, Malawi

Follow the leader! Nkhotakota, Malawi

This translation apparently doesn't capture the full meaning behind the proverb. When asking colleagues to translate, they would say things like 'if the ship is off course, we are all going in the wrong direction' or 'when the rain falls we all get wet' – not direct translations, but they were trying to convey the actual meaning.

Coming from a culture which prioritizes individuality, this type of communal mentalitiy has been a pleasant shift in my way of thinking. It is true that events that have occurred during my time here have help bind me to the country. I felt afraid along with Malawians when the president died and a new leader wasn't announced for days. I felt angered alongside my fellow women at the trouser strippings and joyful at the coming into power of Malawi's first female president. Devaluation of the currency by 50% and the subsequent inflation was felt by all of us. The HIV virus impacts our workplaces, relationships and communities. When someone gets married (however distant the relation) we all go to celebrate.

Oftentimes when walking here, people come and walk beside me. Sometimes they speak and ask questions, and sometimes they just silently keep pace and provide company. There is a sense of community and connection to fellow humans here. Zidze pano ndi zatonse.

3)  Proverb: 'A child who doesn't leave his family compound thinks his mother is the best cook.'

Typical Malawian food: Nsima, chambo, soup and rape (green leafy veg).

First off: Mom, I love your cheese and brocolli casserole.

This said, trying new things allows us to experience more of the beautiful flavours and textures that life has to offer. Coming here and trying something different has allowed me to experience new music, different types of food, words in a new language, and a different approach to time to name a few.

I'm grateful for these experiences and have no doubt that they will continue to enhance my life after I leave.

The use of proverbs in language is something else that I have come to appreciate being here – something I wouldn't have gotten if I'd stayed on the family compound.

Eating typical Malawian food with my friend Happy Joe.

Bicycles, NOT Wheelbarrows

Bike Ambulance Delivery - Salima District

Last week I had the opportunity to deliver bicycle ambulances donated by Silver Spire Church in Canada to 3 rural communities in Malawi. It was really special to meet the volunteers who will be using the bike ambulances to transport people living with HIV who need medical attention to clinics.

The stories from the recipients convinced me that the bikes and stretchers will make a huge difference:

The group in Nkhotakota said that a patient had died at home the day before because they couldn't transport him to the hospital.

In Dowa they explained that they have 8 bedridden patients that they can now transport to the clinic. They also said that having the bike will allow them to visit many more patients in one day.

In Salima district, the distance that we drove from the main road to the village spoke for itself (almost 20km on dirt road to the clinic). 

Delivery to Alinafe Hospital, Nkhotakota

Why bike ambulances?

If a Malawian living with HIV or AIDS needs medical attention and is unable to walk, getting to the clinic can be very difficult.

The bicycle ambulance is an innovative response to the needs of rural communities in Malawi. Due to extreme poverty, few health centres and high HIV infection rates, it is very challenging for sick people to get to the clinic. Many are carried, pushed in wheelbarrows or die bedridden because safe and dignified transport is not available.

Bicycle-ambulances provide a much safer alternative. By attaching a lightweight trailer and removable stretcher to the back of a bicycle, patients can be transported to clinics without risking further injury along the way. The relatively simple design enables the trailers and stretchers to be made locally with available materials. The ambulances also can be used to transport pregnant mothers and people who have passed away to the health care centres.

The bicycles can be used alone as well so that carers can visit more patients per day or carry out income generating activities to raise funds for their organizations.

Why home based care organizations?

In Malawi, community-based volunteers trained as HIV and AIDS educators, caregivers and/or advocates travel to neighboring communities and homes to care for those affected by the virus. Their ability to serve people is limited by their lack of transportation. By using a bicycle, a health care worker can see up to 5 times as many patients.

The home based carers really blew my mind. They work HARD as volunteers in grueling conditions. Many have very little but they choose to persevere for the wellbeing of their communities. They showed up to receive the bike ambulances singing and dancing and I found their gratitude overwhelming. A big thank you to both the home based care groups and Silver Spire Church for the difference that they are making.

Home based care volunteers, Salima District

Bike for AIDS Campaign

The World University Service of Canada runs the Bike for AIDS Campaign through which the ambulances and bikes are donated. Since I've arrived here in Malawi, the campaign has received support from my friends and family in Canada which has resulted in 5 ambulances (includes bike and stretcher) and one stand alone bicycle to be provided to home based care organizations in Malawi.

A big thank you to Christ Church United, Silver Spire Church, Aunt Pat & Uncle Max, Aunt Mary & Uncle Sandy, Beth, Michelle, Deb, Heather and my parents.

If you are interested in learning more about Bike for AIDS or making a donation, please check it out here!

Weight in the Western World

I woke up to the sound of an e-mail coming into my inbox. I open the e-mail to find a blog post from Jezebel, a feminist blog which I read religiously. The title? 'Shut the **** up about Lady Gaga's weight already'.

Apparently the tabloids are ablaze with headlines about how the beautiful, slender pop star has gained 25 pounds.

This makes me feel an anxious stiring in my (softer than when I left Canada) stomach. As my time in Malawi comes to a close, I have been thinking about what it will be like to go back to the Western World. There are many things that I'm looking forward to in Canada, at the top of the list being family, friends, consistent clean water, the light going on EVERY time you flick the switch, and (of course), cheese.

One thing that I'm not looking forward to is my culture's obsession with weight. Living in Malawi has been very liberating on this front. For the first time I can remember, I have let the weight thing go. In Canada, I learned at a very young age that thin = beautiful and grew up conscious about my weight. I'm sad to admit that I can not remember one day since I was 11 years old when it wasn't on my mind, how if only I was thinner, I would be more attractive. If I wasn't trying to loose weight, I was trying to accept my weight and not gain any.

Moving to Malawi and living in a culture where bigger is often considered more beautiful has given me a completely new perspective. It has allowed me to worry less about how people perceive the way I look and to feel more comfortable in my skin. This change in perspective, combined with a prevalence of carby foods and not having access to boot camp classes 3 mornings a week has caused me to put on a few kilos... and guess what?

The world hasn't ended!

I still enjoy going to the beach, have meaningful friendships and a lovely boyfriend who couldn't care less. The summation of my discomfort with gaining weight has come in the form of the waistbands on my pants. So why do I want to warn my friends and family that I've gained weight so that I feel less shame about it when I get home? I feel nauseated when I think about trying to reintegrate into a culture that holds narrow and oftentimes destructive ideals of beauty.

I recall with a new awareness the painful effects of idealizing thinness. There was a young woman a few years ahead of me in high school who died from anorexia and I have friends who were hospitalized as young as 13 from the same. I remember being 12 years old and lying in bed hungry by choice, fantasizing about food in my room directly above a fully stocked kitchen. Living in a place where over a quarter of the population is physically stunted due to malnourishment has given me some perspective on how messed up that really is.

I hope that I can go back to Canada with a positive perspective that will help heal this societal problem but I worry about how it will feel too. It is one thing to experience a shift in values, but another to hold onto those values in a place where every billboard tells you that you are wrong.

I suppose speaking out about it is a first step, and I feel grateful to have this blog as a forum to start doing so.

The Art of the Bucket Bath

 

Since the day I stepped off the plane 11 months ago, Malawi has been generous in her teachings to me. She has gifted me with many a lesson, sometimes subtly, but more often in an unexpected and rather intense manner.

In my time here I have learned pieces of a beautiful Bantu language, learned how to tie a chitenje, eat Nsima with my hands and ride a bicycle through a roundabout. I've learned the importance of acknowledging a fellow human being with a smile and a greeting and how to always be prepared for a power cut.

At my goodbye dinner in Ottawa, my friend Sara stood up and did a toast. 'I hope that everytime you bathe from a bucket, you think of your friends here in Ottawa.'

The table erupted in laughter and I chuckled along at her joke. A bucket bath?! I mean I was going to be living in the capital city!

Well folks, most of the world doesn't bathe using a shower and I have been inducted as a sometimes-member of that club.

I'm very lucky to be living in a place where we have water most of the time. This said, water outages aren't uncommon here. Sometimes the water goes out unexpectedly due to broken pipes. Sometimes the water board goes on strike.

Sometimes the water board goes on strike and then the pipe breaks because it hasn't had water going through it in a week. (That happened last month for a total of a week and a half without running water).

These outages have made me realize how much I take running water for granted. I always heard the expression that 'water is life' but only recently started to understand what that means.

We need water to prepare food, to drink, wash dishes, wash hands after using the bathroom, when you squish a mosquito on your elbow and want to wash it off, when you accidentally spill something on the floor, to make coffee in the morning... the list goes on.

I find myself becoming increasingly aware of the myriad of things that I use water for every time the water goes off.

One of the most important functions of water is obviously bathing, and you kinda have to bathe even if water isn't coming out of the faucet. But how to go about getting clean when there isn't a shower with a steady stream of water at your disposal?

The bucket bath.

I have learned how to bucket bathe through trial and error and find my technique constantly improving. After 9 days of practice during the water board strike/broken pipe saga, I thought I would share my new found skill. 

(These pictures were taken and sent to Sara so that she knows I think of her often. Sorry if you find them to be TMI)

Generally, the steps are as follows, if you have a better technique please let me know:

1. Find water – I'm lucky that this process is relatively easy and does not involve walking a long way with a heavy bucket. For me it involves stocking up on jugs at the grocery store or going to the nearest working faucet (in my case at the backpackers down the road) and filling up.
   
   
2. Heat the water – this isn't always possible but if you have electricity it makes the experience much more pleasant unless the outside temperature is over 100 degrees.
   
   
3.  Identify water scooping mechanism. My favourite is a big plastic mug because it holds lots of water and can't break. Any other scoop is fine too as long as your mug isn't metal and your drain isn't 'leaking' electricity (oops learned that lesson!).
   
   
4. Take the scoop and dribble water on yourself to get wet. This will help you suds-up with soap. Don't use too much water at this stage because you want to have enough to get the suds off.
   
   
5. Soap up. Doing this everywhere in one go uses less water than doing each section individually.
   
   
6. 
   Trickle the water over the sudsy bits slowly and use your other hand to help rinse. The tricky bit? When you are washing your arms and armpits! 
   
   
7. Think of your friends in Ottawa and feel grateful to be clean and have water!

We are all living with HIV

It is 4 a.m. and the compound next door has 2 new dogs. These horrible canines have snatched my slumber, forcing me awake as they bark their little doggy faces off. I lie under my mosquito net of questionable condition (I have somehow managed to get Malaria), eating stale chocolate and pondering.

Aside from selfishly wondering if Malawi might have an animal welfare organization, I’ve also been thinking about HIV and AIDS.

Last weekend was the International AIDS Candlelight Memorial.

Started in San Francisco in 1983, Candlelight has grown to become one of the world's largest and longest standing international advocacy events. The first Candlelight consisted of 4 men who wanted to put a face to a mysterious disease that was ravaging parts of Africa and the gay male community in the Western World. They stood behind a banner reading ‘Fighting for our Lives’. Each of them died that following year.

Since then, the 3^rd Sunday of May has marked a time to remember those who we have lost to AIDS related illness and to advocate collectively for a better future.

Candlelight 2012 Malawi

The Malawi Network of People Living with HIV (MANET+) coordinates the Candlelight Memorial in Malawi.  Being a MANET+ volunteer, I had the privilege of attending candlelight and getting the inside scoop on how huge an undertaking it is.

The event was held in a big field to accommodate upwards of 5,000 people. A radio jingle was commissioned (resulting in lots of in-office dancing), t-shirts and Chitenje cloth were manufactured. Posters were designed and printed. The president herself was invited and a 40 person taskforce was formed.

The day was a success: the venue was packed and the Vice-President of Malawi presided over the event! After starting with a ‘Solidarity Walk’, there were all kinds of performances – drama, dancing, speeches by various representatives from civil society, international organizations and politicians.

Solidarity Walk

Women Living with HIV Dance Group Watching Performances

Dance Performance

Candlelight Around the World

I’ve attended Candlelight in Ottawa before. Like so many memories of my home country, the image appears in my mind’s eye as an overexposed photo - slightly faded and with a dream-like quality. The memorial involved a small group of people gathering at dusk, a speech by a person living with HIV and taking a moment of silence to light candles in remembrance. 

The differences between the Ottawa and Lilongwe Candlelight memorials has got me thinking about the varied nature of the epidemic throughout the world. How do the organizers choose one single theme that applies globally? 

This year the theme was ‘Promoting Health and Dignity Together’.

We are all Living with HIV

In Chichewa, Malawi’s National Language, there is a proverb that reads ‘Zidze pano ndi zatonse’. Translating roughly as ‘What happens to one of us, befalls all of us’, this proverb speaks to the fact that we are all intricately interconnected. During his speech, the UNAIDS Country Director emphasized that this collective Malawian mentality must be extended to how we view HIV. In a country with one of the highest HIV prevalence rates in the world (estimated at 10.8% of the adult population), there is no doubt that we are all living with HIV.

For some of us, the virus is in our bodies. For others it is in our families, our workplaces and loved ones. It is without doubt in every community. It is in our decisions, our individual and collective consciousness, pain and hope.

Zidze pano ndi zatonse – we are all living with HIV here.

Believe, a fellow Canadian volunteer and I.
'Kulimbikitsa Umoyo ndi Umunthu Pamodzi' (Promoting Health and Dignity Together)

I would argue that even outside of HIV-endemic countries, we are all living with HIV. Although my home country of Canada has a low prevalence (estimated at .04%), HIV unmistakably highlights places in society where stigma and marginalization exist. For example, many of our prisons have prevalence rates comparable to Malawi. New immigrants from Africa and the Caribbean are at greatest risk of contracting the virus as well as injecting drug users, men who have sex with men and Aboriginal peoples.

It is not just in Canada where you find the most marginalized groups affected - the trend is the same in both developed and developing parts of the world. For example, HIV has an unmistakably female face in sub-Saharan Africa. Wherever you go, there is a correlation between disempowerment and HIV.

Why is it that the most disempowered people bear the burden of this virus?  

Let’s remember that from a purely physical angle, HIV is only a chronic, treatable condition. In many ways it is no different than hypertension or diabetes, in that you can live a long healthy life with HIV as long as you have access to treatment. So what is different about HIV that has spurred so much misunderstanding, stigma and fear?

I would argue a few things:

1) The memory of a time before the availability of anti-retroviral medication when HIV was a death sentence.

2) The fact that the virus is spread through the most intimate and silenced acts that we engage in as humans (sex, bringing life into the world, injecting drugs, violence).

3) HIV is so often a development issue because of stigma and socialized behaviours that put the most marginalized people at highest risk.  It is easiest to talk above a quiet voice.

HIV highlights the real illnesses that are plaguing our planet: systems of marginalization and exploitation that perpetuate inequality and poverty. HIV is how these illnesses often manifest in our bodies, our communities and our world.  

If we are all first and foremost human beings, we are all indeed living with HIV. Our children have been orphaned, our environment affected, our dignity compromised.

Choosing Change

Turning the tide on HIV isn’t just about telling people to use a condom or clean needle. It is about changing the very systems that perpetuate inequality - systems of which we are all a part.

I believe that the mentality of ‘otherness’ is a gash that is hurting our world and fueling the spread of HIV. I think that we each have the ability to heal this through consciously and lovingly deconstructing the systems that have caused so much pain to humanity.

Instead of allowing HIV to add to our sense of disconnectedness from one another, why can’t we use the virus as a challenge to remember that we are all interconnected?

Lets take this virus that affects us as a starting point for change by loving and honouring our bodies. In the same way our bodies are composed of individual cells, lets remember that we are each a part of a greater whole.

I have found comfort, purpose and a sense of solidarity by choosing to critically examine how my attitudes, behaviours and actions interact with systems of power and marginalization. It is an on-going challenge and I have barely scratched the surface on what it means to live consciously, but I keep trying because I believe that this is what is required to shift towards healing the causes of HIV. 

This year’s Candlelight theme of ‘Promoting Health and Dignity Together’ is a call to remember that which befalls one of us befalls all of us.

Nkosi Johnson also saw our commonality as human beings before HIV status. A South African boy born with HIV, he addressed the World AIDS Conference when he was 11 years old, the year before his death. He said: 

***

We are all the same.

We are not different from one another.

We all belong to one family.

We love and we laugh, we hurt and we cry, we live and we die.

Care for us and accept us. We are all human beings.

We are normal. We have hands. We have feet. We can walk, we can talk – and we have needs just like everyone else.

Don’t be afraid of us.

We are all the same.

***

Zidze pano ndi zatonse and goodnight.

'Her'

I have been trying to write this since International Women's Day in March.

I have abandoned this post many times for fear of saying the wrong thing or offending someone. I keep coming back to it and have decided just to go ahead and put it up.

Before I go any further, I must say that my reflections will carry the bias of a 20-something, white Canadian woman. I'm not an expert on Malawi or women's issues and have no authority to speak on either. My intention is to share my observations and learn through feedback. As always, corrections, dissenting opinions, comments and dialogue are welcomed.

As a woman and a feminist, I very much support activities that work to promote the empowerment of girls and women. I believe that there are horrific problems facing women and girls throughout the world and salute individuals and initiatives that work to chip away at this myriad of issues.

Living in Malawi, I am constantly confronted with the gross gendered disparities that exist here. For example, of the 38% of Malawians who are illiterate, 64% are women. Malawian women make up 52% of the population and 67% of them live below the poverty line. Sexual violence against women and girls is far too common, and HIV prevalence is much higher among women.

I have heard countless horror stories and resolved many times to write about the injustices faced by Malawian women. Every time I start to write, a funny thing happens. It feels inauthentic and exploitative and I abandon whatever I start.

I realized that the problems is that I've been trying to regurgitate the perception of 'the African woman' (as if there were only one) that I had somehow forged into my psyche when I was young.

Some long-ago, media endorsed Western perception of 'Her' wanted to perpetuate itself out of my pen. To take out dimensions of personality, circumstance and culture and put forth a simplified summary of who 'she' is. Tell a heart-wrenching sob-story of how marginalized she is and how hard she works.

It is true that many women here are marginalized and that many are very hardworking. While I have oftentimes found myself angered by the injustices that oftentimes come along with being a woman here, I realized that I don't see the Malawian women (only) in that way. There is so much more - heaps of beauty, intelligence, resilience, colour, personality, abundance...

Needless to say, I've been feeling a bit stuck - how can I talk about the 'bad stuff', without generalizing a huge demographic? How can I share my observations without dehumanizing and further marginalizing a group of people?

I don't have any answers, but from the ruins of my efforts to write about 'Her', this is what I came up with:

***

I've spent a long time trying to write about what happened to Her,
Thinking about why I can't find the words to tell you about Her
and I've come to this:

I am not the purple-blue shadows that were once forced onto my skin by the hands of a male partner who wanted to control me
or the self-imposed starvation that devoured my tweens as I tried to fit an imposed ideal of beauty
I don't define myself by the struggles I have faced in my experience as a woman

So why would I define her by hers?

I can't tell of a one-dimensional Woman
With all the tabloid-style sensationalism
That so many in the West too often hear

BECAUSE THAT IS NOT WHO SHE IS

and it is not my right to tell you about her
but a sacred privilege bestowed upon me
 
So I can no longer paint her picture as the
face on many a development agency website
try to stuff my words
into the false mold of the single-African story -
the plight of the poor Malawian woman
told by us without Her

If I told you she was raped
If I told you she is malnourished
If I told you that she wakes up at 4am to fetch water

I would be raping her of her humanness
Starving her of her dignity and
Drowning her with who the world thinks she is

If I didn't also tell you that her favourite subjects in school were math and science
and that her favourite chitenge is the one with the Manchester United logo on it
and that she could kick your ass any day at netball!

She wants to be a nurse
and adores the colour turquoise
and named her baby 'Chikondi' because of the love that she has for him

Indeed I would be doing us all a gross injustice
If I flattened her into one easily palatable dimension -
using certain parts of her story to selectively cast darkness
on all that she is

***