Let me begin with the circus we called graduation. I have become close with these graduating students, as I have been teaching them since I arrived here. I have been teaching them Biology, Physical Science, Life Skills, and part time with Math (part time because the teacher whom is supposed to teach this subject doesn't really give a damn, and I -always with a helping hand-have started doing his job for him (Is that sustainable?)) for two full school years. There are about 40 of them, and although I certainly don't adore them (the majority are just as lazy, ignorant, and a pain in the butt as any American teen), I must admit that I did have watery eyes and goose bumps during parts of the ceremony. It wasn't easy teaching them. Most of them won't even pass their national exams (which they started this past Wednesday. The exams last over two weeks. They make the ACT/SAT look like the trivia on the back of a box of CocoPuffs-but I'll have to explain this a different time.). A majority will continue to find themselves living in the seemingly inescapable poverty found in most rural areas around here. In spite of these realities, I am proud to have had the opportunity to teach them. I feel that I have made a positive impact on their lives. No matter how large or small this impact was, it is not something they would have if I had not sowed up to teach them for two years.
As for the actual ceremony, there was a general consensus during our staff's Monday morning "caucus" that Saturday's graduation was a success-especially when we conveniently compared it to last years fiasco. However, don't get the impression that things went smoothly this year. Let's start at the beginning, which was planned to be 10 in the morning. After being here almost two years, I always laugh to myself whenever I hear Malawians planning things around the time of day. I follow up this laugh to myself with the question: "Is that African time of Real time?" This question always induces an uneasy, communal laugh because we are all aware that setting specific times to do things in the village is futile. Futile because most of the people being invited to the function don't own any device that can tell them the time of day, most come from far away on foot, and most importantly, the culture here supports being late (in some ways). With all this in mind, I showed up fashionably
(my co-workers and I)late at 11:30 sharp. At that time, it was clear that we weren't anywhere close to getting started. No problem for me; I didn't have anything to do for the rest of the day, and I wasn't the one who had a 20 km bike ride home after sunset when this event was over. So I sat around and chatted with some folks and didn't mention the fact that the clock was actually ticking as the sun moved further westward. Long story short, we finally got started at 1:30, the ceremony lasted until 5, and it was followed up by a feast of rice and goat meat (Malawian butchers are not the best at what they do for a living so I should actually say "goat bones and ligaments" rather that "meat") that wasn't going to be passed up by anyone in their right (hungry) mind. By sundown we sent the parents home on foot or on bike ("Watch out for the thieves and potholes!") while the new graduates got their groove on at the disco (we say "dance" where I come from).
I don't have all day to type this, and you probably don't have all day to read it (or if you do, then feel free to read it twice or even take a peak at some of the interesting links I have put up to the left), so let me summarize graduation's other notable moments. The kids made these goofy hats which were supposed to look like graduation caps.
A quarter of our staff of eight (that equals two, FYI) was wasted (What else is there to do but drink during the first week of the month, right after getting their monthly salaries?). I was sitting next to them in front of everyone during the ceremony, and they were constantly pestering me to go back with them behind the office for a drink. I resisted with my impenetrable will power, at least until the sun went down, when I promptly accepted three of their gifts. Our local Member of Parliament, who was supposed to be the Guest of Honour and make a bunch of false promises, wasn't able to come because of a funeral near his home. The organizers of this event, the Graduation Committee, failed to realize this until around noon, and this was another factor contributing to our late start. However, I must way that the replacement Guest of Honour, our zone's Primary Education Advisor, made an excellent speech and filled in nicely. One last thing that I shouldn't forget was the meal afterwards. For the sake of saving time, we were served outside, where the ceremony had taken place (which was wonderful-I didn't even have to get out of the seat I had been in for four hours.). This was fine until about five minutes later when the hungry kids across the street got a whiff of the food. They came in masses, first standing in front of us watching while we ate, second getting up enough courage to scrounge on the bits of foods that fell to our feet (eating rice with your hands is at least as difficult as eating it with chopsticks), and finally fighting with each other over the massive portions that we couldn't finish (we only ate about half the rice we purchased the day before using the money paid by the families of our impoverished students-another score for the Graduation Committee!). A year or two ago I would certainly have been horrified by all this, but as people always tell me, "Now [I] am used." All things considered, graduation made for an entertaining afternoon.
Just when I came down from the high that was graduation, I then went into Lilongwe to have lunch with the President of Malawi and Chairman of the African Union His Excellency the Honourable Doctor Bingu wa Mutharika (most African political leaders have a tendency of stretching their titles out as long as possible, much different than the "Obama" I hear on BBC).
All of us Peace Corps Volunteers, including most of the staff and some other important people, were invited to the State House (although the entire event was held in a large tent-a very nice tent with AC and chandeliers) to meet with His Excellency, his wife, and a handful of relevant members of the State Department. The main purpose of the event was to pat each other on the back and stuff like that, but I must say that it was all very enjoyable. Amongst people that actually know about Peace Corps in this country, our organization is generally very well respected. However, very few Malawians actually do know about us or what we are doing here. This event at the State House was well covered by the national media, and it gave Peace Corps Malawi a huge boost in popularity. We all got dressed up,
(my headteacher lent me that suit)
ate a nice five course meal (I'm used to eating dinner with my hands by now, and all that silverware threw me for a loop), drank lots of free wine and beer, and danced with the Prez and his lovely wife. I suppose His Excellency is the most famous person that I've ever been that close to before. Most of you back home have probably never heard of him, but he's pretty important in this neck of the woods. A teacher at my school told me that I have to introduce him to Barrack Obama now that I have shaken hands and exchanged glances with his president. I'll see what I can do.
"You see, many of the troubles going on in the world right now are being supervised by people with very good intentions whose attempts are to keep things in order, to clean things up, to forbid this, and to prevent that. The more we try to put everything to rights, the more we make fantastic messes. Maybe that is the way it has got to be. Maybe I should not say anything at all about the folly of trying to put things to right but simply, on the principle of Blake, let the fool persist in his folly so that he will become wise."
Alan Watts
