10 weeks done. I’m flying out 3 weeks today. I can’t believe how fast time has gone over the last several weeks, but this last week… I feel like time has slowed to a crawl. I think it is because I’ve been saying “Less than a month!”, “Just over 3 weeks”, “3 and a half weeks” and so on, for some time now. Basically I need to stop counting days. Believe me, this is something I’ve been working on. I really want to enjoy myself and make the most of my time here right up until the last minute.
I also think that this week has passed slowly because I was not at work at all last week while sick with malaria, so I got out of routine. It amazes me how quickly time can pass when you focus on a routine. So back at work this week, I felt all out of sorts. Plus Alice and Nelson have both been away on business this week so I have been taking a minibus to and from work, which can make already tedious days even more tedious!
Mini busses are terrifying, dangerous and hilarious all at the same time. They are Malawi’s most common and popular form of public transport, running different routes all over town based on wooden signs they have up on their dashboard. To work I take a 25, because I work in Area 25. I also catch a 25 home because all of them go from 25 to town, and make sure they know to let me “drop” in Area 47 Sector 3, where I live. They are all old, usually white VW vans, with bench seating that should fit about 8 or 9, but a typical bus ride will have up to 15 or 16 people crammed in, along with various sacks of food and/or live animals. There is a tiny aisle way to the left of the bench seats, where you have to crawl out over various people and objects. There is always one driver plus one attendant who calls out the window at people/takes your money/opens the door, etc. Most ‘buses’ are in extremely poor condition, with a sliding door that doesn’t close, crumbling roof, flat tires, etc, making them a complete liability. Every few days you hear of a terrible mini bus accident on some highway somewhere. Most times you also hear this comment, “The minibus was cruising”; the drivers are often very reckless. I get extremely panicky whenever I have the misfortune of getting the seat on the far right of the back bench. It is hard to get the attention of the attendant to let him know you have to get off, especially when you don’t speak Chichewa. Rides are always eventful. One morning I had to sit on a sack of live fish. One commute home the mini bus attendant had to sit on my lap. Awkward. During another trip recently my friend Margaret and I had a fairly deranged man sitting in front of us, showing us pictures of a much younger version of himself in army uniform, all the while blowing kisses at us. Also awkward. Probably the most memorable trip recently included about 12 people squished in alongside 3 goats who were forced to lie flat under the seats. Every few minutes one of the goats awoke from their state of shock to let out a terrified scream that would make your ears bleed. That day Margaret and I sat with our feet up on the seat in front of us, terrified that one of the goats, whose head was inches from our feet, would lash out and bite us.
Sometimes though, I get lucky. I wave down a bus and hop into the front seat, or get a bench seat closer to the front, where I can easily communicate with the attendant. Sometimes the seats will be comfortable, the ride will be smooth, and sometimes the nicer ones even have disc players that the drivers use to belt out reggae or American hip hop music. It’s amazing how comforting Akon can become when you’re far away from home.
As for work, the next few weeks are up in the air. As of right now, I am planning to make next week my last full week of work, and go in from Monday-Wednesday during the last week of November, to finish a few things up. I will end around the 25th. I hope by then I will be ready, I hope by then I will be comfortable with leaving, and I hope that I will feel content and satisfied with the work I was able to get done. To my disappointment, I came back to work this week to learn that no one completed the in-school sessions while I was off sick. I feel awful for missing a whole precious week with the girls. I was anticipating doing sessions this week on Assertiveness and Decision-Making, but it was cancelled due to exams. I think this will be the way of things from now on. So, I am throwing myself into designing more sessions, even though it is unlikely I will be presenting them. During my last few days, with the help of WUSC, I will print all the sessions and bind them together in a booklet to leave for my organization to use over and over with other schools. I am excited about leaving this lasting impression and I hope that my material will be useful for years to come. This was an idea that I came up with a couple weeks ago during a meeting with my supervisor and the WUSC country director. My supervisor said that they may also translate my book into Chichewa, so they can make copies and sell the material to other organizations, thus making the book an income-generating tool, which I’m also happy about.
On Monday I left work early because I was still feeling some effects of malaria, but I took a minibus into town before heading home, to pick up a few things at Shoprite. Shoprite is a huge grocery store where you can get basically anything you want, but at a price, I don’t shop there often. Because Lilongwe is landlocked, brand-name and ‘luxury’ items are expensive here; most products are imported from South Africa. Rumour has it when Shoprite opened a few years ago, Malawians wandered around the store with their eyes wide and their mouths open in amazement. I had a similar reaction when I entered the store this week… as soon as I walked in, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and hearing: Christmas decorations up around every cash register, Christmas crackers and table-settings and fake Christmas trees for sale, Frosty the Snowman and Jingle Bell Rock playing over the sound system. I excitedly sent a text to my friends to tell them the news. “Is it really Christmas-time already?” I asked them. I guess this means I’ll be home soon after all.
Love to all,
Jacqueline
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