A Feel Good Story

As a United States Peace Corps Volunteer you hear a lot about "sustainable development," "capacity building," and other fluffy terms like that. The reality is that, in the grand scheme of things, we really don't do a whole lot to "save the world." In a world of 7 billion people (and counting) there are only a few thousand Peace Corps Volunteers, and the work that we do is a drop in the ocean. However, it's not healthy to think about this too much.

It's better to focus on the little things, the small victories. For example: There's a young man named Moses that has been living with me for almost three years now. We've both benefited a lot from being around each other, and we have something like a big brother-little brother relationship. Moses had a rough upbringing, an upbringing that is representative of many children in Malawi. His father ditched the family when he was a young boy. Life is hard enough here for a family living in a rural area, headed by both a mother and father. These problems are only magnified for a single mother. Moses' mother struggled (and is still struggling) to raise a big family on her own.

In Malawi primary school is free, but like most things in life, you get what you pay for (especially when you don't have very many taxpayers to take care of that "free" primary school system). This means that most children here, as did Moses, go to a primary school that functions more like circus. Limited resources, understaffing, lazy teachers, and general apathy...it's astonishing to see how dysfunctional these schools are. Anyways, this is where Moses' education started.

Later in his primary school years, money became especially tight. It was decided that he should go and live with his father. By now the father was a well off with lots of farmland, a few vehicles, and a decent house. It looked like Moses would be able to finish his childhood happily ever after, reunited with his father. However, things didn't work out that way. Moses' stepmother didn't like him too much. At meals this stepchild of hers was given food last. When there was work to do around the house or in the field the biological children were allowed to play while the stepchild was breaking his back. This went on for a few months until the stepchild had enough and went back home to live with his mother where life was hard but at least he would be treated like a human being.

But money was still a problem. It was decided that Moses should find a job, even though he was still a few years away from finishing primary school, so he could support the family a little bit. He was sent off to help a guy raise his cattle. Moses' job basically entailed herding a bunch cows around all day under the hot sun while his friends went to school. He did this for about a year, and consequently missed a year of school.

He eventually went back to school. In Malawi, at the end of primary school every student writes a national exam that is used to select the students to different tiers of secondary school. The best of the best go to national schools. The next tier of students go to government schools. The lowest tier is selected to Community Day Secondary Schools. However, in reality at least half of the students that take the primary school national exam don't end up going to secondary school because they either can't afford it or they weren't selected. By the end of primary school, Moses was a promising student, and it was a surprise that he wasn't selected to any secondary school at all. Somehow he slipped through one of the many metaphorical cracks in the Malawian education system.

He wasn't going to give up that easily. A friend of a friend was able to find him a place at a nearby Community Day Secondary School, Chadabwa CDSS. These bottom tier schools don't have a lot regulation, and it is often possible to attend one of them even if you weren't selected there so long as you're able to pay school fees and fatten the administration's pockets. But as I already said: you get what you pay for. These schools are relatively cheap and therefore provide relatively poor education and produce relatively poor results (I'm saying "relatively" here because every level of education in Malawi, from nursery school up to university, is pretty shameful, but these CDSSs are the bottom of the barrel). Most "graduates" of these CDSSs have dreams of going to university, becoming a doctor or a nurse or an accountant, and never going back to the village again, but the reality is that most of them end up living the same life their parents have: doing backbreaking labor on a daily basis and struggling to get by. This is all very depressing when you think about it too much so let's fast forward so we can get to the good part of the story.

Moses had four years ahead of him at secondary school, and he quickly made it clear that he wasn't going to be just another village kid with no future. While his friends were out dicking around like typical teenagers, he was usually found with is nose in a book or asking thought provoking questions that were over the heads of his under qualified teachers. He was consistently at the top of his class, head and shoulders above his peers. These peers started to become jealous. They started spreading rumors that Moses was doing so well on exams because he was using witchcraft (yes, this sounds completely ridiculous to those of us that come from the developed world, but here in Malawi witchcraft is perceived to be very real, and accusations are thrown around all the time...but I won't go off on that rant right now). Moses was advised by his head teacher to ignore the crap he was getting from his classmates and keep focusing on his studies. That is exactly what he did, but it wasn't easy. Money was still a problem, and it looked like he already reached the glass ceiling created by the rural, dysfunctional secondary school he was attending.

Moses had dreams of attending the University of Malawi, but this seemed very unlikely. In a country of over 14 million people, the university system here only takes in about 2,500 first year students each year. Even those students at top tier secondary schools have a difficult time gaining admission to university, and most students from the bottom tier CDSSs don't stand a chance. Nevertheless, he took the national exams after completing secondary school last year, and the results were off the charts (for a student from a CDSS). It appeared that he would have no problem getting into university with these results.

But there was one other important hoop to jump through. The University of Malawi uses two main criteria when selecting first year students: first, there is the previously mentioned national exam which pretty much every student takes upon completing secondary school, and then students that do well enough on these national exams have the opportunity to take the university's entrance exams. He took the entrance exams back in April (around the same time I was taking the MCAT-as you can imagine, the house was full of nervous energy), and then he waited...for a long time.

For those of you that don't know, the government has been screwing around with the university for most of this year. Earlier in the year, there was a dispute between some of the lecturers and the police/government concerning academic freedom, government spies in the classrooms, etc. I won't go into all of the details here (you should be able to find plenty of information about this on the internet), but the main result of this was that the various braches of the university haven't been doing much for most of this year. This also meant that selection for the first year students was delayed... but that all changed on Saturday night when the selection finally came out. Late in the evening, the two of us were sitting anxiously next to the radio, listening to the local radio station that always has breaking new like this: "Now the selection for Bunda College of Agriculture, Bachelor of Science in Agriculture Education...Moses Samalani, Chadabwa Community..." This was a moment that I'll never forget, and take it from me, this couldn't have happened to a better person.

Unfortunately, stories like this are few and far between, but let's not focus on the negative. What we have here is a young man who had an impossible dream. With the odds against him, he worked his ass off, and he will soon start living that dream. (all of this may sound cheesy, but it's true!--it gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside)

"Here's a message to the newborns, waitin' to breathe
If you believe then you can achieve
Just look at me
Against all odds, though life is hard we carry on
Livin' in the projects, broke with no lights on
To all the seeds that follow me
protect your essence
Born with less, but you still precious..." Tupac Shakur

Top Ten Most Commonly Asked Questions of Bryan in Malawi

One of the three goals of Peace Corps is "to help promote a better understanding of the American people on the part of the peoples served" so although these questions make me laugh to myself, I can consider it work (volunteer work that is) when I am answering them.

10. Are there any poor people in your country?

This question, along with many of the following, is greatly influenced by the mass media from the US that many people here are exposed to. Mass media from the States that makes it all the way to Malawi is typically outdated and tends to focus on the themes of presidential politics, celebrity gossip, and bad pop music. You may be saying to yourself, "That's not much different than the mass media Americans themselves are exposed to." While that may be true, keep in mind that that is almost the only exposure to American culture they have. This is especially true in rural areas where it seems as you go further off the beaten path Dolly Parton's popularity seems to increase exponentially. Most Malawians (perhaps I should generalize here and say "most people from developing countries") don't know about American Indian reservations, homeless shelters, and urban poverty. However, with that being said, I must also admit that there is really no comparison between the poverty in the States and the day-to-day struggle most Malawians have to deal with.

9. Are you married?

In Malawi if you're not married by your mid-twenties you're probably either a social outcast or someone that's well off enough not to have to worry about the backward, outdated social customs that we have here. Most people, again especially those in rural areas, especially girls, are in a hurry to get married well before they turn 20. I don't want to go off on a rant here about early marriage and all that, but let's just say that there is an ocean between the marriage customs in America and Malawi. I'm in my mid-twenties, and some might say that I look a bit older because of my red goatee and mature demeanor (LOL). It follows that many people here can't wrap their heads around the fact that I'm a (fairly) normal young man with no wife. I typically receive advice that I need to marry here and buy lots of farmland. As tempting as that may seem, I think I need to move on with my life, outside of Malawi (January's right around the corner!).

8. When you go back home to America will you take me with you?

I usually answer yes (if I have the time and energy to bs), and then go on to tell them they're more than welcome to come along with me when I go home if they can find a passport and enough money for a plane ticket. Someone once proposed that I could smuggle them in my suitcase, and this may also be a viable option.

7. Do you know (insert name of some obscure preacher from the West that "evangelizes" in Malawi)?

My answer is usually just "no" followed by the silent treatment, but sometimes I want to go off on a rant about how out of whack with reality some of this stuff is. People here go crazy over religion! I won't make any moral judgments and say whether or not this is good for this already ultra-superstitious and logic-lite society, but I must say that I have a hard time sharing everyone's enthusiasm for "Ambuye!!!" I don't want to beat this topic to death, but here are three quick points about why religion in Malawi, in particular the denominations which act like the super zealous cousins of the Southern Baptism we have in the States, don't jive with the way I see the world: 1) If the church doesn't have enough chairs/benches, then all the "Christian" men are provided with a decent place to sit before almost any women are. 2) Night Prayers. "I know what we can do for fun this weekend! Let's spend all of our hard-earned (yet still sparse) cash on a huge stereo system so we can stay up all night yelling at Jesus with our gospel music blaring and the entire neighborhood unable to sleep!" Praise the Lord for giving me the wisdom to buy a decent set of earplugs a few months ago. 3) Speaking is Tongues. I'd only seen glimpses of this on TV back in the States, but I encounter this all the time here. I don't really see how regularly and frequently yelling nonsense fits into the values Jesus taught of compassion and thoughtfulness. In a place where witchcraft is so taboo and feared I find it ironic that this type of "prayer" is so popular.

6. Who taught you to speak Chichewa?

I'm asked this as if I have had one teacher that I meet with every day, but that hasn't been the case. After three years here, I'm fairly competent with this language. I've found that the best way (at least for me) to learn a new language is to constantly put myself out there, talking with people, making mistakes, and then learning from the mistakes. I'm laughed at on a daily basis (think about how foreigners trying to learn English are treated in the States by the general public-the same kind of thing happens here), and it would have been a lot easier to not put any effort towards learning this language that is of little use beyond Malawi's boarders and that I'll completely forget a few years from now.

5. How have you seen Malawi? (Translated to normal English: What do you think of Malawi?)

This very open-ended question always seems to be asked to me when I have a lot to say, can't think of where to start, and have little patience to talk with anyone. I usually explain that "Malawi is a good place with good people, but there is lot's of poverty here." This very simple and obvious answer is usually replied by an agreeable sigh and contentment. We can then move onto a more interesting topic of conversation like "When will the rains start this year?" Most people here (in general and relatively speaking), are very welcoming to outsiders. They're also very self conscious and curious people. They want to know about the outside world, but they are also interested to hear about how the outside world views them. This is something we don't really do in the States. We may be fairly up to speed with what's going on beyond our boarders, but we also kind of do our own thing and don't give a rip about how our actions affect peoples' perception (be it positive or negative) of our country.

4. What is the staple food in your country?

Malawians take pride in the fact that their staple food is maize, and they seem to think that every county has one particular food that they depend on for most of their calories. Obviously, this isn't the case in the States-which makes this question difficult to answer directly. I usually tell people that 1) The United States is a very big country with many different climates and therefore many different crops being cultivated and 2) We have many different cultures mixed together that have brought many different foods to the melting pot that is the United States. I enjoy telling people about the fact that there are people from all over the world in the US. At least during the past century, this has been one of our biggest strengths: diversity and a certain amount of tolerance for it.

3. What is your favorite food?

It would be easy and honest to say that my favorite food is pizza (with a cold beer...Oh my God that sounds good...I can't wait until January), but most people here wouldn't really understand what I'm talking about. So instead I usually tell people that my favorite food is nsima with roasted fish and pumpkin leaves with groundnut flour. But this is only halfway true because that meal is my favorite Malawian foods, but certainly it does not even come close to my favorite food which would most definitely be pizza, as I mentioned earlier. To be honest, Malawian food sucks. It's very plain and uninteresting. It must be the British influence. Did I mention that I can't wait to get home and eat good pizza? Mmmmm, a cheeseburger will be good as well.

2. Is it true that in the United States students only learn one subject?

People here tend to think (for whatever reason) that from high school onwards, American students specialize in one area only (eg. Mathematics). I can see that some of the confusion might come from the idea of having a "major" in college, but I really have no idea where this huge misconception comes from. My answer is: "No, that is completely ridiculous."

1. Can you give me some money?

I've beat the topic of begging and how much it annoys me to death many other times on this blog. Please refer to those previous posts for elaboration.

All of these questions are asked in complete innocence (even #1 most of the time), and although I don't feel like I'm changing the world when I respond to them, it does give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside when I ghetto stomp ignorance and replace it with truth. But some of these questions are really dumb, aren't they??? I look forward to American and its sanity (or maybe its insanity that I can relate to). Until then, wish me luck in keeping my own sanity in over the next three months.

"You can't connect the dots looking forward you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something: your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. Because believing that the dots will connect down the road will give you the confidence to follow you heart, even when it leads you off the well-worn path." Steve Jobs

Tiyeni Tigonjetse Edzi!

So as you may or may not know, HIV is a pretty big problem in Malawi. The national prevalence is around 12%, but it does appear to be declining or at least stable. In general, HIV is more common in urban areas and less common in rural areas (17.1% vs. 10.8%). In Mitundu, the semi-urban slum where I live and work, where hookers and beer have a firm grip on the local economy and in my year here I have seen multiple people pass away because "he/she was positive," the HIV/AIDS epidemic affects the entire population either directly or indirectly.Obviously, this disease is difficult to manage at both the individual and population level, but the general consensus is that the first step to making any progress is having a clear picture of who is infected and who isn't. Once this is known (to a certain extent) a few different things happen (in theory): 1) Those who are found to be negative are encouraged to stay that way by practicing the human virtues of monogamy, putting on a condom, using clean needles when shooting up, etc. 2) Those who are found to be positive can start anti-retroviral treatment (if necessary) that usually improves both the length and quality of life of individuals with full-blown AIDS. 3) Those who are found to be positive can be advised about how to prevent transmitting the virus to their sexual partners and newborns.

Over the past year or so I've been learning a lot about what is being done to prevent mother to child transmission (PMTCT) of HIV during birth and through breastfeeding. In short, the pregnant mother is mandatorily tested for HIV on her first visit to the clinic. If she is positive, then she is put on antiretroviral treatment during her pregnancy. The newborn infant may also go on ARVs for a few months. With this PMTCT strategy, HIV positive mothers are only transmitting the virus to their newborn infants about 1.5% of the time compared to around 25% of childbirths with mothers not receiving any of this treatment. There's some evidence that ARVs also prevent transmission via breastfeeding as well, but the party line at the hospital is still "if you're HIV positive you will have to give your infant formula rather than breastfeeding them." Without any treatment breastfeeding, HIV positive mothers transmit the virus to their infants about 20% of the time in the two months postpartum. With this, it seems like the best way for a positive mother to keep her baby safe is to avoid sharing any bodily fluids other than a kiss on the cheek every now and then. In a place like the United States, this plan of action is pretty straightforward: mom goes to store to buy formula which is affordable (or at least the government makes it relatively affordable), infant drinks formula mixed with nice clean tap water instead of breast milk, and mom doesn't really worry about what her infant is missing by not breastfeeding (such as passing on antibodies that strengthen the infant's immune system) because most of her friends don't do it so why should she. But in a place like Malawi, where most people sleep on the floor every night and a lot of people struggle to buy a few ounces of salt to spice up their typical dinner of maize porridge and boiled greens, things don't usually work straightforwardly. One, how's momma gonna buy formula for 3$ when she's only got 50 cents to feed a family of six and daddy's out having a good old time at the bar spending his monthly salary on hookers and beer? Two, do you expect an infant to do alright drinking well-water (the only option in most areas) mixed with formula when the adults that drink that same water are frequently infected with waterborne diseases like cholera? Three, momma's antibodies help the baby and momma a lot when a trip to the hospital is a 15-mile walk and momma's got no shoes. What's my point? I don't really know so let's get back to talking about the stopping the spread of HIV by knowing your status.

Last month my coworkers at Mitundu Youth Organization and I put on a two day football tournament (you're gonna have to remember that in most of the world "football" is what Americans call "soccer"). This wasn't your garden variety football tournament with parents yelling at each other, coaches bribing referees, and teenage boys falling to their knees and crying on the pitch after missing a penalty kick (wait...actually that did happen). Instead this was the "MYO VCT Football Trophy." MYO stands for Mitundu Youth Organization (with yours truly as the "programs advisor"), VCT stands for voluntary testing and counseling for HIV, football stands for soccer (some just say "mpira," but that's an inside joke), and trophy stands for tournament (which is ironic because there was no trophy given out and nobody expected to receive one). We did this with help (mostly in the form of prizes and money for workers' allowances) from Peace Corps, UNICEF, and a certain NGO called Grassroots Soccer. The idea behind all of this was that the football games, which turned out to be exciting and competitive with the local teams that participated, would attract lot's of people, and those people would then be exposed to the various HIV-prevention activities that we had going on at the same time as the tournament. These activities included an essay competition, condom demonstrations, dramas, testimonies by HIV-positive individuals, and most importantly, VCT services.

VCT entails first going through pre-test counseling. This is usually about a ten-minute pep talk about preventing HIV infection and asking the client a bunch of times, "Are you suuuuuure you want to be tested?" Once these preliminaries are out of the way, there's a little finger prick, and the client's blood is put onto a test kit. The test kit qualitatively tests for antibodies to HIV that may be in the blood. They call it a "rapid" test, but I suppose they mean "rapid" from an African perspective because it still takes about 15 minutes. The client is asked to wait outside during this time, and they are given every opportunity to run away with their tail between their legs and not hear their results. Most people, however, stick around for the post-test counseling which involves first asking the client once more, "Are you suuuuuure you want to know your results?," then the dramatic unveiling of the results, further counseling tailored to positive or negative individuals, a shoulder to cry on if necessary, and referral to the hospital for treatment if necessary. Knowing your status is important for the reasons that I stated above. I like to believe the counseling that is provided is also somewhat effective, but who really knows? It can't hurt.

At our local hospital here in Mitundu, people have a hard time accessing the VCT services because the counselors that run the show have a habit of showing up to work an hour or two late, then not doing a whole lot of work, then taking an extended lunch break, then maybe coming back in the afternoon to fart around for a little bit, and then going home an hour or two early. But who can blame these guys for being lazy when the government almost always gives them their paltry monthly salaries late and some months doesn't pay them for stretches lasting well over two months? I'd take a long lunch break too. So with this marvelous system in place they manage to provide VCT services to about 500 people per month at Mitundu Community Hospital. I am proud to say that we had 385 people test during our two-day event. It's amazing how much harder people work when you put a fair amount of money (straight cash homey!) in their hand at the end of a hard days work (the "fair amount" that our counselors were given was about 15$ for a full day of work--yes, labor is cheap in Malawi, but the Indians and Chinese are already all over that). Interestingly, only 8 of our clients (2%) tested positive. I talked to the counselors about this surprisingly low number (remember that the national prevalence is hovering around 12% and is probably at least a few points higher here in Mitundu where most people don't take the Seventh Commandment very seriously), and they told me that that is typical these days. It seems that the reason for this is twofold: First, a lot of people already know their status, and if they already know that they are positive, then they aren't going to go through the embarrassment of testing again even when there are prizes involved (There were actually a handful of people that did go through with the VCT even though they've had AIDS and they've been on ARVs for years. They just wanted one of the t-shirts that we were giving out to the first handful of people that tested. We quickly put an end to this-it's a waste of resources, especially when one test kit costs about 10$.). Second, there just aren't as many new infections these days (this is good news!).

Besides the constant begging for t-shirts (see previous posts for my description of the begging culture in Malawi and how it drives me up the wall), this whole event was a success and we had a good time. There weren't any big disagreements on the football pitch (except for one, but it only lasted 15 minutes so I won't count it). No accusations of bribing referees (I wasn't surprised to hear that this is common here. The referees routinely get their asses whopped at the end of matches for taking bribes, but apparently it's worth the 500 extra kwacha (~3$) because the same referees get into trouble regularly and take the beating over and over again.I'm not sure how much money I would need to get beat to a pulp.). There were no streakers (I'd do probably do that for 100$-that's like two week's salary!). I'm just trying not to think about how much of the prize money that we handed out was spent on hookers and beer. That kind of behavior doesn't really jive with the whole philosophy of the event we put on.

The essay competition winners (I bet you can't find me!):

A drama about how HIV will ruin your life:

And the Champs, Chimwala Football Club:

"So when they continued asking him, he lifted up himself, and said to them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her." John 8:7

Efficiency, or lack thereof.

You may have noticed that I've been trying to show off by using Chichewa in the titles of my more recent posts. However, for this topic, that is not possible because there is no way (except in a round-about, indirect way) to translate the concept of "efficiency" from Chienglish to Chichewa. In the developed world, efficiency is a central idea that directs much of our motivations. Especially when we think about work, business, and nowadays even our free time, efficiency is something that most of us strive for, whether it be consciously or subconsciously. So why can't I translate this into Chichewa? Because this idea doesn't really exist or at least isn't very important here. If a culture never thinks about something (or historically didn't think about it until modern times), then it's no surprise that a word or phrase can't be found in its language to vocalize the idea.

After living here for over two years, I have come to realize that efficiency-which I will loosely define as quality complemented by speed-is definitely something that is lacking here. Let's consider how our typical development organization works in Malawi. This generalized example applies to most private, faith-based, governmental, or non-governmental organizations that are at least superficially trying to help out "disadvantaged" people (this absolutely includes the United States Peace Corps-please see the disclaimer at the bottom if this reference makes you uneasy). Our typical aid organization most likely is trying to assist people that are mostly living in rural areas. In spite of this, the organization decides that their office should be set up in one of the big cities. Maybe, if the organization has enough resources, they can set up some smaller offices throughout the country to broaden their coverage and put them closer to the "beneficiaries." The organization most likely has the aim of eliminating some generalized problem such as water sanitation or child abuse. It's important to understand here that if they actually do fix or eliminate this problem that they have their sights set on, then they will no longer have anything to do. They will work themselves out of a job. To me, this set up seems to be a fundamental problem in all walks of development work. Why should someone working for this development organization (particularly if they are a citizen of the developed country in which they are working and will have a very difficult time finding a new job once they work themselves out of this one) work hard and efficiently in pursuit of the organization’s objectives if this means they will just be more likely to be removed from the payroll once they are no longer needed.

The drivers don’t have to worry. Neither do the ex-pats. Once this organization finds a miracle cure, providing clean water to the entire country or whatever, and works themselves out of a job, the organization’s foreign workers will just go back to the relatively stable job market of their home country or find a new problem to work on by joining some other organization. Drivers are so important to these aid organizations that I can’t imagine one of them having a hard time finding a new job, especially after having the experience of working with some well-known donor/aid organization.

I’m only estimating here and my estimates are only based off my limited experiences, but I would guess that at least a third of the staff of these development organizations is either drivers or guards. After spending some time working in a third-world country, it’s clear that these staff positions of drivers and guards are probably necessary, but their necessity only hinders efficiency. Imagine an electrician in the States. If he has a job to do, he just gets in his truck and goes and does it. Here in Malawi, however, an electrician has to find his driver, make sure his driver is at least moderately sober, have the driver drive him to the worksite, and then he can get the job done while the driver is screwing around doing whatever.

So here we’ve looked at one big example of how a development organization can beat efficiency into the ground and then never worry about the idea ever again. Keep in mind that these development organizations, at least from what I’ve seen in Malawi, are some of the most functional operations around. If we think of the behemoths like USAID, UNICEF, Save the Children, and the Government of Malawi, its these organizations that seem to have excessive funding, attract the best talent within the country to work for them, and have the best vehicles on the road. For these reasons of having so many resources available to them, we shouldn’t be surprised that these guys seem to have their act together most of the time and actually do some work that improves the areas in which they are working. But what about the rest of this society? What about the large other part of this society that makes up the rest of this third-world, underdeveloped, under resourced, uneducated, starving society that doesn’t live in the gated and guarded community north of the city and work in air-conditioned offices with high-speed internet? If the best organizations here are lacking efficiency as I have described, then what about everything else here?

I think a goat rodeo is an appropriate analogy. Yes, the rest of Malawi functions like a goat rodeo. One of the craziest events at the goat rodeo is the minibus race. The minibus race starts at the bus depot, but the buses can’t actually leave the starting line until they are packed full of people, animals, kitchen sinks (okay this isn’t that common, but I did see it once), and whatever other crap needs to be transported. Each minibus in the race has a team consisting of an owner (who is never seen or heard from), driver, conductor (who collects the money from the passengers, makes a half-assed effort to make sure the driver stops when a particular passenger wants to get off, and hits on young girls ridding in the bus), and hailers (who are usually down and out middle aged men who’s responsibility is to convince people looking for a bus at the depot to board their team’s bus.) Once the hailers have filled up the bus so that the conductor can barely squeeze himself in and shut the door, the race starts.

At least every other month I get on a minibus that runs out of gas or breaks down before it even makes it through 25% of the race. After doing this for many decades, most minibus teams haven’t figured out a good strategy for refueling. I’ve never seen a minibus driver actually fill up the gas tank, but instead they usually put in just enough gas that will get them through this race and back to this point on their return trip. This means that during most races, even if the route only uses up a tenth of a tank, the bus will have to make a pit stop to refuel. This can sometimes involve scrambling around to many different gas stations because fuel shortages have become more and more frequent in the country, and during these shortages, most people don’t have a good idea of which gas station actually has gas. Often times “just enough” fuel doesn’t do the trick, and the disappointing sound of an engine suffocating without hydrocarbons to combust has become all too familiar to me. The minibus can usually coast for about 200 meters, and then it's stuck on the side of the road. At this point there are usually two options for the driver, conductor, and passengers. If they’re not completely stranded in the middle of nowhere, the driver can send his obedient conductor off to find some black-market fuel at the closest trading center. This black-market fuel will no doubt be very expensive, which usually leads some kind of argument and name calling between the driver-conductor tag team and whatever swindlers are trying to sell the fuel. While all of these shenanigans are going on, if the passengers haven’t already paid, they’ll be trying to flag down any other transport that is passing by. The driver-conductor tag team will be trying to prevent these passengers that haven’t yet paid from escaping while they are flooding the engine with the over-priced fuel they just bought.

When a minibus stalls, it is more likely that it will be in the middle of nowhere. This means that the passengers need to find another means of transport, maybe another bus, private vehicle, truck, or even an oxcart if they think this will get them where they need to go on time. If they have already paid, an argument usually ensues between the conductor-driver tag team and the passengers about how much money is going to be returned to the passengers. (A few weeks ago a buddy of mine was in this situation, and he snatched the keys from the ignition and wouldn't give them back until he got his money-this effectively solved the dispute.) It is in the best interest of the driver-conductor pair to screw the passengers over because any money they give back will come out of their own and the owner’s pockets. Plus, customer service (the business-minded cousin of efficiency) doesn’t really exist in Malawi so there’s no solid reason to treat these passengers fairly when you probably won’t ever see them again, and if the conductor does treat them like crap, he won't be held accountable for his actions because any other conductor probably would have ripped them off in the same way.

I should say that when you get on a minibus you expect the worst, but you usually end up where you need to go in a reasonable amount of time. It’s just that your butt will be sore, your recently washed pants will now be dirty, and you’ll often get dropped off at another depot through which you have to lug all you luggage while struggling not to get your pockets picked or hit by a bus. The general disorganization of the minibus race epitomizes the inefficient, chaotic goat rodeo that is Malawi. If you're in a good mood and have people around with whom you laugh about all of this with, then this goat rodeo is absolutely hilarious. On the other hand, if you're having a bad day, something simple like an hour-long bus ride into town can easily turn into a horrific experience.

I'll end things today with a snapshot of the leisure activities we have here. American kids spend a lot of their time playing XBox, making bombs out of toilet cleaner, or looking at porn on the Internet. Well, here in Malawi, most kids don't have access to these things so they have to be a little more creative. Below you can see the open-air billiard hall that was recently constructed near our office. It's stuff like this that reminds me that I'm not in Minnesota anymore.

"As long as you have certain desires about how it ought to be you can't see how it is." Ram Dass

Tidzawona Red pa 17

The other day I set the boy that lives with me, Moses, up with a gmail account. This is a guy that has lived his entire life in a village with no electricity, running water or even newspapers. Suffice it to say that computers, not to mention the Internet, baffle him. He's real excited about this, and he's certainly at the steep end of the learning curve trying to figure out the basics of using a computer. Most five year-olds in the States are significantly more fluent in the world of computers and technology than he is at 18 years old. He just hasn't been exposed to this stuff, and in this way, he represents a surprising number of people here. I hate to be so pessimistic all the time, but I don't see how places like this in the world, places where a majority of the population has little to no idea what the Internet is, will ever catch on with the current, rapid rate at which technology is evolving. Anyways, send the kid an email at mosessamalani@gmail.com. He will be elated to write back and forth with you as he tries to figure out how to use a computer. I'm too lazy to actually sit down and teach him this stuff (how to right click, how to capitalize letters, how to open Word, etc.). I also just don't have the patience. Instead, I'm going to give him little tasks to do, like sending an email to so and so, where I'll just help him out if he has a question and he can more or less figure out how to work a MacBook on his own (I feel kind of bad that he's learning on a MacBook because they're almost non-existent here, and he'll probably never see one again; instead he'll just be confused again once he starts using another operating system.)

Some of you may have heard about the demonstrations and riots we had here last week. I'll downplay what happened (this is what most people here, especially the government and Peace Corps, have been doing). Check out this article for a decent summary of what happened: DPP Woyeaaaa. Everything's calm now. People are just talking a lot. The general public, at least the general public that I'm exposed to here in Mitundu and wherever else I find myself these days, is openly upset with what is happening here politically. The President and his crew feel threatened by this overwhelming displeasure with them. There is tension in the air, but nothing should happen again until August 17th when another demonstration is planned. I've been asking a lot of Malawians what they think will happen on this day, and I've been getting a variety of non-committal answers, but everyone talks about this with nervous energy. Don't worry about me. If there are any problems and violence it won't be direct at people like me (e.g. American volunteers that have been around for a while). More importantly, our Peace Corps office here is keeping a close eye on things, and they're doing a good job of keeping us updated.

I submitted my primary application for medical school today. I applied to ten schools: U of M-Twin Cities, U of M-Duluth, U of W- Madison, U of Michigan, Medical College of Wisconsin in Milwaukee, Loyola University in Chicago, Rosalind Franklin in Chicago, Rush Medical College in Chicago, Creighton University in Omaha, and University of Saint Louis. Unfortunately, this doesn't mean I can now sit back and relax. I'm not even half way through the application process yet. Most of these schools will be sending me secondary application in the next few weeks. These secondary applications can be a lot of work (essays and such) depending on the school. Hopefully, I'll get a handful of interview invites after that, and then I'll be interviewing in January and February. This is my plan. As you can see it's a very general plan. I've been making less detailed plans lately, giving myself more wiggle room. Perhaps this is because I have been living where very few things go as planned for the last three years.

"We come unbidden into this life, and if we are lucky we find a purpose beyond starvation, misery, and early death which, lest we forget, is the common lot." Abraham Verghese

Fumbi, Mayeso, ndi Nyumba Zopanda Azibambo

I was working my butt off on July 4th, but today-Malawi's Independence Day-I have no work to do and lot's of time on my hands. Thus, here's a long awaited post with some ramblings:

Life goes on in Malawi. This time of year there is a lot of dust. I've been ridding my bike a lot here, and there are usually one of two different problems to deal with-mud or dust. It seems like just yesterday that I was pushing my bike through the mud, unable to ride it because the mud was sticking everywhere to the tires. Cursing and very upset, I dreamt of the dry season, when there is no mud and you don't have to ford rivers just to get to work. Well, the dry season has come, and I completely forgot about the dust. You think I would have this figured out after three years, but apparently I don't. It now happens on a daily basis where I'm ridding my bike down a dirt road (95% of them are dirt in Malawi) on my way to school or something, and I spot a big truck coming from the other direction. In this situation, the best thing to do is run for hell in a direction perpendicular to the road, away from where the truck has come and where the truck is going. The reason for this is that it's bone dry this time of year. We haven't seen a single cloud for a few months, and trucks passing down a rural dirt road tend to create a huge dust clouds that people have been known to get lost in forever. At least we have mud and the rainy season to look forward to in November/December (by then I'll be on my way out of here!).

A few days ago I got roped into invigilating (watching over the students while they take an exam) the much-anticipated national exams that the students take to pass secondary school. With my bachelor’s degree and air of authority, I am considered an expert on the physical sciences. Therefore, the school that I work a little bit with thought it imperative for me to do much of the legwork for the practical part of their physical science exam (in which they attempt to do experiments with equipment and materials that they have never used before, such as ammeters, graduated cylinders, and stop watches). Of course, I agreed to this. End result: I felt like a super busy waiter on a never-ending (12 hour) shift. We showed up at 7am to set up for the exam, and then we proceeded to run around for twelve hours answering questions like: "Sir, what am I supposed to do with this [he holds up a beaker full of bromine, but it sure doesn't look like beautiful, brown bromine after it expired two years ago and has been sitting in the African sun for at least three years]," "Sir, I don't have this," "Sir, I don't have that," "Sir, sir, sir..." We had a limited amount of equipment to use for the various electrical and chemical experiments that they had to use so we ended up having the students take the exam in shifts- many, many shifts. We were having them do each experiment for 30 minutes, and while that group did their experiment we had to wait on them: refilling chemicals, washing equipment, fixing equipment, etc. Then we would bring another group in for 30 minutes, and then another, and then another... until I realized that it was late afternoon and we still had three groups to get through. We ended up finishing at 7:30 in the evening, and I was exhausted. The last group was taking the exam after the sun had set, and this wasn't a problem until the power went out. We had to scramble around looking for candles for a few minutes, but it all worked out. I remember invigilating last year at my old school, and I thought that was difficult when we got done early in the afternoon. This year, however, was exhausting. After getting done, I went home, went straight to bed, and slept like a rock.

I think I'm correct in saying that immigration is still a big issue these days back in the States. That's the impression I get from listening to the BBC sporadically. I find it interesting that we have similar problems with immigration here. The following analogy is fitting: Malawi is to South Africa as Mexico is to the United States. Even though (at least from an American perspective) South Africa has plenty of problems and it can't be considered a "developed" country (certainly parts of it are developed, but other parts are as bad as it gets on this planet), many young Malawian men dream of going to South Africa to work and live happily ever after. Especially in the area where I am, many men get married, have a few kids, and decide that the best way for them to provide for their family is to run away to South Africa, find a job, and send money back to their family in Malawi from time to time. This is basically what goes on between Mexico and the US as well. I've spoke with many Malawians that have worked in South Africa, and a few experiences seem to be common there: 1) They do work that South Africans refuse to do (e.g. hands-on agricultural labor, cleaning, gardening, etc.). 2) They have a hard time integrating into South African society and are generally disliked by South Africans (this is the xenophobia that we always hear about). 3) They are often there illegally, end up getting caught, and find themselves deported back to Malawi. 4) There main purpose for going to South Africa is to make money, more money than they think they can make by doing the same amount of work in their homeland. However, it takes many of them longer than expected to find regular work, and they usually face lots of trouble early on after immigrating. Does all of this sound familiar? It does seem like many of them actually end up making a decent amount of money that they send back home, but that money goes back to a home that hasn't had a father around in a while...but I won't go into all the problems that leads to.

That's all I got for today. I'll try to post more frequently in the near future, but I can't promise anything.

"There is suffering in life, and there are defeats. No one can avoid them. But it's better to lose some of the battles in the struggles for your dreams than to be defeated without ever knowing what you're fighting for." Paulo Coelho

Tatsegula nyumba ya asungwana!

Life moves on in Malawi. This time of year, people are harvesting their crops, reaping the benefits of the work they have done in the past year. As with the past few years, tobacco prices have been very low, and I wonder why people aren't catching on to this (I often ask people: "Every year you work your ass off, spend lot's of money on inputs, and end up with nothing after selling your tobacco harvest. Will you cultivate a different cash crop this year?" The common answer: "No sir, we always depend on tobacco."). At least half of the economy in Malawi is tobacco-based, and these low prices (not to mention a lack of innovation) will have negative long and short-term effects on this already deeply impoverished country. But the soya bean farmers are doing well. The prices of this easy to cultivate, legumous, soil-enriching crop are through the roof, and I can only hope that more people will grow this food-crop in the future instead of the low-grade, (child) labor-intensive, environment destroying, unprofitable crop we call fodya (tobacco). However, I have come to realize that it takes a long, long time for people to change their ways so I don't see any real changes coming any time soon. I guess it's most effective when we learn the hard way.

The girl's hostel is finally being used. It isn't really finished, but we decided that it's close enough to start having residents. About half of the rooms don't have windows (apparently we ordered 40 instead of the 60 that we needed, oops!), the kitchens aren't roofed yet, and the contractor and his workers haven't been paid in a while. These first two problems aren't really a big deal (from a rural African village perspective) since we don't expect to see much rain until December. In spite of these deficiencies, 16 girls started living in the building last week. I live a safe enough distance (15 kilometers) away so that I don't have to hear everything about the hostel, but it sounds like things are going well. The girls haven't started killing each other yet, and they even did some much needed landscaping last weekend. We decided that since the school year is almost over, only the Form 4 (equivalent to 12th grade) girls will live in the hostel for the rest of this school year. In this manner, starting with fewer boarders will hopefully allow us to iron out some of the wrinkles before we fill it to full capacity at the beginning of next school year in September. This is all good news. I certainly have some concerns about how this hostel thing is going to progress, but I won't go into all that right now. Here are a few pictures of the almost finished but still being used building:

I mentioned in my last post that I was eagerly awaiting my MCAT results. Perhaps my delay in writing about these results is an indication that they ended up sub-par, but that is not the case at all. Avoiding the urge to brag (J), I will just say that my MCAT results will not hinder my chances at getting into most schools. These results ended up being almost exactly what I expected, and I am satisfied with them. It's the rest of the medical school application that I have to worry about now. I'm still working on getting together and polishing up my personal statement, letters of recommendation, transcripts, and other odds and ends so I can send out my primary applications in the next few months (if any of you would like to edit my personal statement please let me know because I need all the help I can get). My tentative list of schools that I will send primary applications to includes: University of Minnesota-Twin Cities and Duluth, University of Saint Louis, Creighton, Medical College of Wisconsin in Milwaukee, Rush, Rosalind Franklin, and Loyola (the last three are all in Chicago). Anyone!, Everyone!, please send me an email (bjvonasek@gmail.com) if you have any advice about what schools I should apply to or what schools I should add to this list. I certainly don't have the best idea of how to go about doing this, but my general strategy is to not waste my time applying to out of state public schools. I'm targeting public schools specifically in Minnesota and private schools in the upper mid-west. Because applying to medical schools is expensive and I have the budget of a Peace Corps Volunteer, I'm trying to limit the number of schools that I apply to while at the same time not hurting my chances of matriculating next August (I absolutely don't want to do all this application crap over again next year!).

Right now my first choices are UM-TC and Duluth (if I decide that I really want to work in an underserved rural area I think UMD will be my top pick (because they are one of the best in this area), but I haven't decided that yet). If I get accepted to either of those schools, then that is where I will end up going. All of the other schools are just back up plans. Perhaps I am misguided? I don't know. Let me know what you think (via email, I haven't heard from a lot of you in a while, and it's nice to get an email from someone other than Amazon.com or Wells Fargo from time to time).

Once the schools receive the primary applications they send out secondary applications to almost everyone that has adequately completed the primary application. The secondary applications include a handful of essay questions and other odds and ends, and this is also where the schools start profiting from the application fees. Ideally, these secondary applications are submitted late summer/early fall, and if you make the cut, you are invited for an interview. Interview season tends to last from September to March (it varies a lot depending on the school). Unfortunately, I may be at a slight disadvantage with the interviews because I probably won't be back to the States until around the Holidays, but I'm hoping that I'll land a few interviews and have a chance to get in somewhere by convincing some school that this brute from Africa might make a decent doctor someday. We'll see what happens.

I never thought that I would say this, but life is becoming somehow ordinary here. I believe how you wake up in the morning is a good indicator of how things are going. If you wake up without gumption and apathetic, not looking forward to the next 16 or so waking hours, then you probably need to make a few changes in your life and take things in a different direction. If you wake up eager to tackle the day (or even better if you can't sleep because you're so excited for the next day), then things are going well and you're on the right track. I think most of us wake up somewhere in the middle of this spectrum, not really excited by nor discouraged by the ordinary day ahead. This is where I'm at right now. I'm not saying that I'm having a hard time here but that the novelty of Malawi has worn off and there's not as much excitement as there used to be. Maybe I need a vacation or something.

"Whatever is subject to origination is all subject to cessation." Gautama Buddha

Ndabwerako ku John

Cape Town may be the most beautiful city I have ever seen with my own eyes. This isn't saying a lot since it is coming from me (what am I comparing it to? Lilongwe? Saint Cloud? LOL), but my five days there were well spent. I flew down there from Malawi on Thursday with the plan of staying there until the following Friday/Saturday. However, once I realized that I don't like traveling by myself very much and Cape Town is an expensive place to move around (at least from my perspective with a sub-minimum wage Peace Corps "allowance"), I decided to cut the trip short a few days so that I could be back in Malawi by Wednesday to hang out with my friends over the long Easter weekend and save some kwacha.

But back to Cape Town: wine, sun, and lots of white luxury compact cars. My first few days there I laid low. Like I said, I got there on a Thursday (the evening of 13 April to be exact). I settled into a nice backpackers' place (for you Americans that probably don't know what a "backpackers'" is (don't feel bad, I had never heard of this kind of establishment before I came to Africa), it's similar to a hostel, where you can sleep in a dorm-style room, self-cater if you want, meet other usually slightly strange travelers, and pay relatively low prices) called Atlantic Point Backpackers. It was a good place for me to relax and get focused for the real reason I came to Cape Town: to take the infamous MCAT.

I was set up to take this test on Saturday morning so, upon arriving, I had about 36 hours before I went to war with the computer on the third floor of 80 Strand Street, Cape Town, South Africa. On Friday, I thought it would be a good idea to go and check out 80 Strand Street and make sure things were ready to go for 8am Saturday morning. In the afternoon, I showed up at the exam center. I presented myself at reception: "Hello, I just want to make sure that I'm at the right place for my MCAT exam tomorrow." "Ummmm, tomorrow is Saturday, and we're closed on Saturdays." This is the point where I almost fainted. I was further informed that I should have received a conformation number from the private company that runs the MCAT all over the world. "No, I never got an email like that." "Okay, let me call them. Please have some coffee and take a seat in the waiting room." The last thing I needed while having a nervous breakdown was coffee. I waited for about half an hour, trying not to have a panic attack in front of everyone. The receptionist then asked me to give them a few hours to figure things out. "Please come back at around four. We should have things figured out by then." So I wandered around the city for a few hours, wondering if this was going to turn into a disaster. I had been studying for over three months, spent lots of money on plane tickets and such, and the only other way I would be able to take this exam for the upcoming admissions cycle was to go back to the North American continent. I went back at four. The receptionist was on the phone, and she gave me the most beautiful thumbs up I have ever seen. After finishing the phone call she told me that she would come in tomorrow morning (Saturday) to administer the exam and that she cleared everything up with the folks back in the States. What a relief. All that stress, and I hadn't even taken the exam.

The next morning everything went well. I showed up early, went through the necessary procedures, and beat my brain to death for about four and a half hours. I felt as confident/uncertain about my answers as when I was taking my practice tests, and since I was doing good enough on those practice tests to get into a medical school, I am hoping that I will also do good enough on this "real thing" (yes, I am knocking on the wood of my dining table as I type this, better safe than sorry, and I'm not ashamed to say that I have become slightly more superstitious after living in Africa for well over two years now). As the website says, I'll have the results back on May 17, 5pm Eastern Time. I am waiting anxiously.

After getting the MCAT out of the way, it was time to start being a tourist. There were only a few things that I really wanted to do while I was there, and I didn't want to (nor did I have the patience or money to) linger around for days on end drinking to much and getting sun burnt on the beaches of the far east Atlantic Ocean. I trimmed the trip down, miraculously booked flights back to Malawi on Wednesday right before Easter weekend, and had some abbreviated fun seeing the stunning Cape Town area. I went on an interesting historical tour of Robben Island. This is where Nelson Mandela, amongst countless other political prisoners, was detained for 18 years during later years of the apartheid era in South Africa. This is where the Nobel Peace Prize winner spent most of his time:

In the wake of last year's World Cup, Cape Town has been jazzed up a lot. They now have an open-top double-decker bus that you can ride for a cheap, two-hour tour of the city. I did this one afternoon, getting lots of great pictures and a burnt red nose.

South of the city stretches Cape Point, which arbitrarily distinguishes the boarder between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. The southern portion of the point is a protected national park with great views, shrub land, and lots of little critters running around. The park ends where the continent drops off into the ocean, where you think you can see Antarctica but that's crazy since it's hundreds of kilometers away. I went on a day trip in the park with an operation that offers "alternative tours" of the point. This included some hiking and biking, and there were a handful of interesting people to bum around with.

I also went on a wine tour. Like I said before, I quickly realized on this trip that traveling alone isn't for me. I thought the wine tour would be awkward with me guzzling reds and whites and ports by myself amongst other people separately having a good time. It turned out that although the others on the tour were in little groups, they also had the intention of getting their money's worth of alcohol, and it was therefore easy to fit in and have a good time. I don't plan on making a habit of downing a glass of champagne in the middle of the morning and then drinking through the afternoon (it makes for a drowsy evening and an early bedtime), but I thoroughly enjoyed touring the wine farms of the region, hopping from drink to drink.

That was about it. Again, Cape Town is a beautiful, fully developed city. It was like being back home in the States where things are expected to work properly (as opposed to a place like Malawi where it is a pleasant surprise when something works as it's supposed to). Besides the scare on Friday with the test, I had a great time. It was nice being somewhere where diversity is the norm and people don't hoot and holler at you while you walk down the street just because you're a foreigner. There is a lot of money in this city: sick cars, multi-million dollar (rand) beach houses, and even skyscrapers. Here's a perhaps controversial message to all you taxpayers back in the States: "Maybe South Africans can (or should be able to) take care of themselves, and there is no need to have hundreds of Peace Corps volunteers farting around in the country." Certainly there are problems there, but at some point, with all the millionaires cruising around in their Ferraris; Audis; and BMWs, we should probably just let them take care of their own problems since they are clearly able to if they only had the compassion for the poor that us Americans have (I'm not sure if my sarcasm is coming through here). I'm not saying that Peace Corps Volunteers don't fart around in other countries (for example Malawi, you could argue that I'm farting around right now), but I feel that our farting around is more useful in places the don't have Apple computer stores and eight lane highways and World Cup Soccer stadiums. Or maybe I just don't have a good enough perspective on things.

Anyways, it's good to be back in Malawi without that damn test hanging over my head. I'm looking forward to the next eight months here before I come home (hopefully just before the holidays). We have a bunch of work stuff and fun activities in the pipeline so I should be staying busy. However, after getting a taste of the developed world, I can't tell you how excited I am to get back to America. In the meantime, I'll be chugging along here.

"Progress consists, not in the increase of truth, but in freeing it from its wrappings. The truth is obtained like gold, not by letting it grow bigger, but by washing off from it everything that isn't gold." Leo Tolstoy