May 9: I LOVE NSIMA

I ended up starting a new post because we were supposed to go to Mzuzu University this morning and get internet, but we didn’t. All of us at The Oasis were getting a little confused because our shuttle was supposed to be here at 8:45 and by 9:45 there was still no sign of it. A bit before 10, Paul arrived with the others. Apparently the shuttles weren’t safe enough, so he decided to just have class here today.

After class, Paul took us all into town (because having 12 of us in the flatbed of his truck is safer than the shuttles…) and we went out for lunch. I decided that it was about time for me to have some traditional Malawian cuisine, so I had nsima with my beef stir-fry. I’ve been contemplating how to describe it, and there really isn’t a Canadian equivalent. It’s a grain that’s been ground up and it’s served in a lump. Its consistency is similar to that of Play-Doh (not that I’ve eaten Play-Doh...that comparison will make more sense soon) and it’s effectively flavourless. The reason why it’s AMAZING is because it’s your utensil. Luckily, Paul was sitting next to me (he’s Malawian and just moved to Canada in the past decade or so), so he taught me how to eat it. Restaurants have hand-washing stations, and then you ball some nsima up in one hand, grab some of whatever else is on your plate, and eat it (thus the Play-Doh comparison – balling it up is a similar experience). Basically, I love eating with my hands and it made me super excited. I’m really looking forward to doing this as much as possible in the next few weeks; I love that it’s normative here.

After lunch, Paul told us to wander off and call him whenever we wanted to come back. I understand the reasoning behind it, since it really got us to be immersed in Mzuzu and experience it, but there aren’t really street names here, and we don’t have data, so it’s very challenging to figure out where to go and how to get there. We split into two groups, and we only saw the other group once, when we stopped to get ice cream. Afterward, we ended up in a marketplace. The market was a labyrinth of stalls and people, selling everything from rice to “Jackie Chan Collection” knock-off movies. I somehow ended up at the front of my group, so I led us through the maze. I was pleasantly surprised by my own courage: usually something like that would make me claustrophobic and uncomfortable, but I ventured forth. At one point, one of the vendors said something to me (in what I assume was Chichewa, the main national language here). I responded with a very blank look, which I assume communicated that I didn’t understand. His answer to that was, “Ahhh, Americano!” I don’t think that saying “no, Canada” and pointing to the “Canada” plastered across the front of my baseball cap did anything. Oh well, it doesn’t really matter if he thinks I’m American.

A funny anecdote: at one point, we saw Paul drive by, so we went to find his car. As we were walking toward the truck, he walked by us. We all turned and said, “Paul!” excitedly, but he ran away from us! He’s a very odd sort of professor. We thought that we may as well go wait by his car. His brother, who we’d run into in the market earlier (I’d been a bit unsure about whether to take him seriously about Paul being his brother…that seemed like quite the coincidence), was there, so we talked with him for a bit. But then one of the girls noticed a pharmacy, so we thought it’d be cool to go in and look. After all, we’re here for a health-related course! We were comparing male and female condoms (the packaging is strikingly different – the men’s have pictures of scantily-clad white women, while the women’s feature empowered-looking African women. We weren’t able to find the prices to compare, which was too bad) when I realized that all of us were in the pharmacy. I turned to them and said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Paul drove off without us since none of us are near the car.” To prevent that from happening, I left the store. As I walked out, sure enough, there went Paul, driving down the road, leaving us behind. Leaving us to fend for ourselves is an effective teaching technique, but I thought it was pretty funny that he just ditched us.

Eventually, some of the girls in my group weren’t feeling great, so we called Paul to come get us. I’ve decided that standing in the back of a truck is one of my new fav tings (if you’ve never heard me use that phrase, ask me about it sometime…I use it A LOT). The breeze is so nice and you get to see so much. It’s also surprisingly peaceful. I just realized that my parents (and potentially others) will probably be mortified when they read this. Don’t worry, everyone – Paul is a very safe driver.

In class, I was thinking about how I feel so ill-equipped to do anything but attempt to understand the AIDS epidemic. My mind automatically jumps to wanting to help, but the reality is that there’s nothing I can do. Maybe I’m just being cynical and by the end of the course I’ll feel differently, but I feel like I need to know so much more than I currently do before attempting to help anyone. I feel like I’d need to live in Malawi for years to truly understand all the social, political, and economic forces that contribute to the spread of the disease. To be fair, I’m taking this class to learn about exactly that, so I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on myself for being ill-informed. The concept of trying to help or fix the problem is also problematic for me because I feel like anything I do would be paternalistic and just another example of “white people helping out the poor Africans.” Just by being here, I’ve been made acutely aware of my race and class like never before. I’ve understood for a few years that I’m extremely privileged, but being in this context put it into a new perspective of even more stark contrast. It’s really made me think about how I spend my money and the value I place on things. For instance, the fact that I can spend significantly more on one meal than some people have to live off for a whole day is pretty astounding. It’s disheartening because I feel bad for having so much when others have so little, but I also feel so helpless to make any sort of change.

I’m hoping we get to go into the University tomorrow, partly because I want to see it, and partly so I can post these. I’m doing alright with being out of contact with my lovelies back home, but I’m starting to feel bad about how much writing I’ll be putting out at one time… I also want to buy myself a chitenge (what women wear as skirts here, basically a piece of fabric that you tie around your waist), and we weren’t able to find any today.

Tomorrow I find out about med school! Almost everyone here knows now, so that’s nice; I’ll have a lot of support either way. I can’t believe the time has come for me to finally know whether I got in.

-Jen