Yeah, hon.

I had jury duty this week. I'd received the notice just before I left for Malawi and didn't pay much attention to it; when I got back, I saw the reminder notices and realized that I would be in MD during the scheduled date. I postponed for two weeks later, Monday.

At this point in life, I should have known that I was jinxing myself with how flippantly I was discussing it with friends and family as the day approached. My parents both seemed concerned that I would be picked and that it would mess up the start of classes. I, on the other hand, was (far too) confident that I would sit for the day in the jury pool and be dismissed promptly like the other two times I've been called.

I did sit there for quite a while, to the point that I didn't think they would get as high as my number (201). And then we get called upstairs to a court room. 50 people are in there, they explain the basics of the case, ask if anyone knows the defendant, the lawyers, and a number of other general questions, and then pulls people up one by one to ask them specific questions. I was quite honest, didn't answer that I would have unusual difficulties to serve that week (although I was thinking of inflating my need to be involved at orientation, although on second thought that seemed disingenuous so I kept quiet). The jury box starts to fill up, though there are plenty of people being dismissed. The lawyers clear out three of the people in the jury box, they fill those three seats, dismiss another, call the guy before me who is dismissed, call me, I go into the box, and they announce that they're done. great.

The trial itself was pretty short: one afternoon and the better part of a second day. After the trail ended, they selected two alternate jurors (they had 14 hear the trial, but only 12 deliberate), and I'm selected as an alternate. So we sat for two days during deliberations with nothing to do. The second day, yesterday, we actually brought our computers and DVDs. This is a great series on Discover Channel; we also watched Zoolander.

I really thought the case should have been more cut and dry, but it became clearer and clearer that the decision was much more difficult to make as the deliberations wore on. They were clearer stuck on one of the charges, and finally admitted they were at an impasse. Guilty on three charges, mistrial on one. There was lots of crying, which made me be glad that I could sit and read/watch DVDs for two days and not have to struggle with whether this guy did something or not. It clearly took a toll on them much more than I would have anticipated.

The whole ordeal was just bizarre. Walking in and out of the courtroom, having them rise for us, not really talking to the other jurors (I didn't know anyone else's name), not being able to talk about the trial with each other or anyone else, and then being stuck in that other room for two days just waiting. It made me wonder how the OJ jurors dealt with that whole trial.

I'm just glad that I'm free for three years of jury duty and that I can have a good long weekend.

On a lighter note, while I'm proud to be an American, where at least I know I'm free, it also means being in a country with this:

Labels: america, democracy

There's some hot new music coming out this fall that I'm excited about. I've fallen into a music funk lately, mostly due to being away from iTunes for the summer, and secondarily as an attempt to spent less frivolously, and thus not buying much new music.

However, come fall, it's on.

I'm a big proponent of albums to mark the transition into a new season. It just seems fitting to find a new soundtrack to complete the change. And fortunately, this year, there's a lot to look forward to. Here's my short list:

The New Pornographers have something new out today, in fact. Here's a glimpse. They're in Boston 10/23.

The Go! Team has something new coming out in either September or October, and will be in Boston on 10/25. They're aways a good party.

Beiruit also has some new EP coming out that sounds really good. It's called Lawn Gisland. Appropriately, they'll (really he'll) be in NYC 9/24-25.

Dreamy, Jens Lekman is also having something new coming out. Did I mention he's dreamy? He's going to be in Boston 10/29. There's a glimpse at Stereoscope, a favorite music blog, which you can find here. It's discotastic. And dreamy.

Other new things (Boston concert dates in parentheses): Stars (10/19), Spoon (10/17), Junior Senior (missed them in august; the new CD starts with handclaps), and MIA is getting great reviews.

Looks like the second half of October is going to be a busy concert season. Conveniently timed with Fall midterms and Fall1 finals. Music will probably win out.

Labels: fall, music, transitions

Being back in Maryland is weird sometimes. I remember all these places from growing up, and then differently from the transitions away from home during college (and a few summers at home), but now things do feel totally different. It's all recognizable, but from what often seems like a different life. This is the longest I've spent down here since the summer of 2001, I think.

I've been kicking it sfamily style all weekend, through today. On Saturday, we went to Virginia to visit my brother, sister-in-law and nephew. We picked up food along the way so that they wouldn't have to cook--the natural place to go is Wegmans, which is known for its prepared food section. The place is like Walmart but just of food: it's totally massive, packed, and kind of feels like a multimedia spectabcle. There's sushi, soup, two salad bars, two bakeries, fresh fish, a 50 foot long case of prepared foods, desserts, then a separate olive bar, and butcher. All in this one area that was made to feel like an old-school marketplace with all these separate vendors. We estimated that there must be about 200 people working there at any one time. At one point, I could see 15 staff people without turning around. I feel like I'm pretty well over most of any culture shock that I'm going to have, but this was too much. "Most of the world will never see this amount of food ever in their lives," I said to my father, who just sort of laughed and agreed. It's consumer culture, and American I-want-it-now attitude, at the extreme. What we got was good, of course, and we got out as quickly as possible.

It was great to see them, including my nephew who has grown so much just since May when I saw him last. We had a good time, and are going out again on Wednesday. Yesterday, we had some family friends over to have lunch and catch up (they wanted to see me while in town), and then to see the Bourne Ultimatum, which was really good. Today we were going to go to the ocean, but it's overcsat and not worth the trip. I think we're going to go do something in DC instead.

Labels: family, food, maryland

You seem stressed--take the afternoon off and go have lots of sex.

How's this for an interesting labor (pun totally intended) policy?

Labels: professional ramblings, public health, sex

It's so good to be back in the city. I've had such a good time in DC. It's nice to have all sorts of cuisine, to be able to walk around town.

In some ways, I actually think that DC seems more urban than Boston. I'm not sure where things after graduation may take me, but I do think that I would really like living down here. I couldn't take these damn summers, though--it's 87 degrees and humid and I can barely take it. I'm too much of a sweat monster. We'll cross that if we come to it.

Tomorrow is time with brother/sister-in-law/nephew, and then maybe to the ocean Sunday/Monday. Otherwise, it's a lot of hanging out next week. Can't wait.

Off to get lunch.

Labels: cities, washington DC, weather

I'm back in Maryland, visiting family and friends, and waiting out the rest of my sublease. It's definitely nice to be here for a while--I was getting a little sick of travelling. Within the course of one week I was in 6 different airports (in one of the 4 times, to boot), in three countries, and three US states.

I got into Boston last week and was there for two days, then rented a car (from the airport, hence the additional airport trips), and went to a wedding in upstate NY over the weekend, back to Boston on Sunday to fly to Baltimore on Monday.

I had a great day today: got up early, went for a run, took care of some emails and stuff to do, took a nap, had lunch, ran some errands, ate dinner with my parents, then got through some reading while also half-watching a movie. I wish I could have more days like that.

I'm still in a bit of culture reacclimation. Like, being at the grocery store today was a little overwhelming. It wasn't as big as the big grocery store in Lilongwe, but that its size and amount of products was so normal here (there are two others in the town, one of which is larger) just seemed weird. Also, Americans eat some weird food. All that processed shit just can't be good for you. Seriously, who needs their kids starting off the day with chocolate waffles? Whatever.

Now tomorrow off to DC for a few days to hang out with friends and kick it in a city. The suburbs are a little lackluster after a while.

Last note: high-bandwith rules and allows for you tube again.

Labels: family, maryland

I posted a bunch of stuff today, which will probably be the last batch of posts from my trip. I wrote some of them from there, so some of the verb tenses and time references may be a bit confusing. I trust that you'll all (three of you) be able to muddle through enough to understand. You're all smart.

I'm not sure what to do with this blog now that I'm back in cellphone and email contact with people more regularly. For right now, I'll try to keep it alive with what's going on in life, but we shall see how that goes.

I took the bus back from Maputo, getting in around 5pm. I made a call to the place where I was staying, and a driver came to get me quickly. I wanted out of that bus terminal ASAP.

The place where I stayed was a full-on internet Monet. There was some story about it being this palace some dude built back in the day. All I know is that it was now sort of dingy and a little gross. I had a room to myself, fortunately, although I don't think it was actually much nicer than any of the dorm options. But it was fine.

Joburg was cold and overcast the whole time I was there, which made my anticipation for leaving even stronger. I barely had 24 hours there, so it wasn't a big deal, but if I've learned anything lately, it's within that amount of time before travel, I just get antsy. I want to get going already. So my whole time there sort of felt like that.

When I checked in, I did ask if there was a crafts market somewhere closeby, and fortunately there was. There was little worth buying in Malawi, and the one in Mozambique was just too busy and overwhelming. I needed to pick up a few things, so I planed to do that in the morning to kill some time. It was apparently a 20 minute walk, which seemed easy enough at the time.

The thing about Joburg is that there is security EVERYWHERE. Seriously, every house has a tall cement wall, a security system, either barbed wire or an electric fence, and often a guard dog and/or human guard. And along the walk, house after house, it just sort of got to me. I noticed getting physically more and more tense, especially since there were few other people walking around. The security quickly became so absorbed that I even found myself becoming sketched out by any black south africans I saw. It was so weird. It's almost like the security system becomes a chicken/egg phenomenon, or maybe more appropriately a self-fulfilling prophecy. The place just made me so tense and uneasy; I just didn't like it.

I got what I needed to get, got some lunch, and then it was time to get to the airport. I flew from Joburg to Cape Town, then London (where I had only 1.5 hrs layover, had to get a security guard to escort me to the front of the transfer line and even then had to run about half a mile because my gate was closing), then New York, then Boston.

Labels: johannesburg, south africa, transitions, travel

Maputo

I loved Maputo. It was, as Ben, a guy I knew from Mchinji who I bumped into on the street, said, "a proper city." I couldn't agree more.

I wasn't until there that I realized how lacking Malawi was with culture. There wasn't anything distinct about any of the places I saw, and certainly not of the cities. Granted, my experience there is somewhat limited, but the feeling that Malawi's cities weren't anything to write home about was pretty universal from what I heard from other people.

I think a couple of things really made a difference:
1. Maputo felt very European, with sidewalk cafes, tons of small shops and groceries, and lots of European-style food.
The Portuguese influence is still really strong in Mozambique. By extension, Portugal is a bit bolder and livelier than the UK.
1a. There was also character from its colonial past, mostly in the form of old buildings that are now run-down and uninhabited. But the character and architecture of the buildings, as well as the sense of prior glory days, just gave the feeling that there was a really interesting history to the city.
2. It was walkable. It was a great feeling to be able to leave the place where I was staying and just walk to explore the city. There was no such thing in Lilongwe--a vehicle was essential anywhere beyond Old Town.
3. It was noticeably wealthier than Lilongwe. There was a shopping center, and some really ritzy parts of the city.
4. It was on the water, which can never hurt adding natural beauty to a city.

I spent the first and last days just exploring; the last was with Simon who came in from Malawi to do some work and move his way up the coast. I found this French-Mozambique cultural center, which was from where I made the earlier post, and went to a dance concert one night. Simon and I went to the saturday crafts market, then to the museum of the revolution (dated, and only in portuguese, but still kind of interesting), and finally to this weird area that was part amusement park and part collection of bars and restaurants.

The second day I was there, I went out to Inhaca, an island about 40kms off the coast. There's a ferry there and back everyday, which leaves with the tide (read=early). The guidebook had some warning about this, but only general guidance. I got down there about 30 minutes prior and the boat had just started to move away. The guys at the end of the dock asked if I was going to Inhaca, I said yes, they said, "run!" I literally had to leap onto the boat, and was definitely glad to have made it.

The ride out was a little rough, so I and a number of others got sick along the way. At one point, I'm not sure if I was actually sick or just nauseous from the smell of a government ferry bathroom and the smells that go along with a boat full of people being sick over the same moving toilet. It wasn't a very pleasant ride, that's for sure.

We finally get there, which basically means anchoring a bit off shore and taking these small motorboat taxis up to the pier. Like most everything else in terms of transportation, it was completely packed, looking like a clip on the tv news of refugees in a boat. We got up to the bridge/dock thing, I got off and started wandering around. Someone directed me toward town, and I just started walking some more. I hadn't really made distinct plans of what to do while there, so I was pretty content just to hang out and sit by the beach all day. That is, until this 16 year old kid offered to be a guide. I really didn't want to pay anyone to lead me around or get scammed, but it ended up being totally worth it. He claimed that this lighthouse was only an hour and a half away, so we walked there. Or, in that direction. Through swampy areas, and little areas where there were all these hermit crabs. It was a beautiful walk. We didn't quite make it there, and I was worried about missing the ferry back, so I wanted to get back in good time. He knew someone who had a bike nearby where we were that I could rent for $10. (I loved it--if you have money and need to get something done, it'll happen somehow or another). He directed me back toward town, which was mostly, "follow the other bike tracks and always go to the right." i made it back there no problem, got a quick lunch and was back on the ferry to sleep the whole way back to Maputo. We arrived just in time for the sunset, which was amazing over the harbor. I'll post some pictures soon.

I also spent one day at the inn where I was staying just working on my trip report. There was a great view from the dining table, which conveniently was the only outlet in the place, so I just plugged in and worked from early morning until 8. I was glad to have taken the time to get a good draft done then and be able to breathe a bit now that I'm back.

All in all, it was an excellent trip and idea to wrap up my time in Africa. A good change from Malawi, one I didn't know I needed until I was finally elsewhere. And in retrospect, it was actually a good transition back to life here.

Labels: maputo, mozambique, travel

I flew out of Lilongwe on a Tuesday. Like the flight in, the plane was about 3/4ths Americans, which was a little odd. In fact, someone I knew was on the plane The azungu magnet is really strong, no doubt.

I got into Jo'burg around 4:00, picked up my bags, got some cash, and went to find the information booth to find a bus that apparently goes from the airport to the bus station. I find a police officer instead, who tells me there is no such bus, but to take a taxi instead. I needed to get to the bus station ultimately for an overnight bus to Maputo, but since I couldn't hang out at the bus station (or get there for cheap on this bus to pick up my ticket before heading back out), I take him up on the suggestion.

He directs me to a driver, and I pay what seems like an exorbitant amount of money to get into Jo'burg (it was like $35, which is cheaper than to get into Manhattan from JFK, but seems like an arm and a leg compared to Malawi prices). There was traffic on the freeway, so we cut through town, which they're not actually supposed to do because of crime, particularly car-jacking, but it actually made for a nice tour of the city. At Simon's suggestion, I went to Melville, which is this cute neighborhood on the west side of the city, sort of like the South End in Boston or Dupont in DC. I got out of the cab, making up some story that I was meeting friends for dinner, and the driver was insistent on seeing me inside. He sort of rubbed me the wrong way the whole drive in--he was a nice enough guy, I didn't feel unsafe, but he wouldn't stop complaining about everything that was wrong with South Africa. Apparently, it was the Nigerians, Congolese, and Zimbabweans who were ruining everything and making it unsafe. Right. In any event, I tried to ditch him as best I could, knowing full well that he would want to take me to the bus station later. I told him I'd call him if I couldn't get a ride from my friends, and hoped he'd bugger off.

Simon had suggested a particular intersection of Melville, so to avoid looking like I didn't know where I was going, I just went in the first place I could find. I had a nice meal, essentially mediterranean/greek food, then walked down the block to a bakery and hung out there for a while, hit a bookstore next door to pick up books in English while I had the chance, and then got in a cab (the girls at the bakery called it for me) and went to the bus station.

I was catching a 10:00pm bus and got to the station around 9:00. It was *so* sketchy. The station itself is quite large and enclosed, but getting into the drop off area was dark and not well lit. The driver chided me for putting my wallet in my back pocket. "This is Joburg, man. Keep that where they can't get it," he said. I was a little weirded out, but I wasn't really feeling unsafe until he suggested that I should be. I quickly went from the car inside to find the ticket office, and sit and wait. I saw three other Americans waiting for the same bus, which made me feel slightly better, but there were a bunch of drunk guys around inside asking for money which made me stay a bit tense. In retrospect, it was not entirely unlike being at Port Authority at night, which is sketchy in its own right. But by virtue of it being notoriously unsafe Joburg, I just felt tense the whole time.

Fortunately we got on the bus and took off no problem. I had strategically placed myself with a bag next to me and ended up getting two seats to myself, which was a gift on a crowded bus and actually afforded me a few hours of sleep. Including the two hours that we were essentially parked on the road at the border waiting for it to open.

Once the border opened (at 6:00), we were told to get off the bus, and not really much more than that. I grabbed my stuff and followed people into this building, waited in line, handed over my passport to be stamped, and then dismissed. I thought, "wow, that was really easy. I didn't even have to pay for my visa afterall." Oh naive me. It was only after being dismissed did I realize that I had only just left South Africa.

We leave that building and have to walk up this hill, across the border. It wasn't far, but it did seem pretty weird to be crossing the border by foot.

The Mozambique side was not nearly as calm and efficient as the South African. There was just a crowd of people standing outside the building in a couple of different lines, with an armed guard blocking one door. We realize that one of the lines is for mine workers only (Mozambicans coming back from the South African mines), so we went to the other one. And while there was plenty of space inside, the guy wasn't letting anyone in. After a little while of waiting patiently, I looked back at the other Americans, one of whom suggested that she use her US Embassy badge (they were peace corps volunteers and so she had something from when she was at one of the embassies). I said that I would go and see what an American passport would get me before that. I walked up, looked the guy in the eye, showed my American passport and walked in no problem. It's very good to be an American sometimes.

Then the problem arose that I didn't have a visa and needed to get one. There was absolutely no direction or help as to how to do that, so I just got in line. It wasn't until I got to the front of the line that the bus driver saw me and pulled me aside. "Yes, I need a visa," I told him. He grabbed a form, scribbled it complete for me, and told me to say that I was with these three other passengers he was helping get visas. I did that and proceeded to wait with them.

And wait. And wait.

In total, we were there for 2 hours. He finally emerged again, behind the actual immigration desk where he must have been pushing these through. One of the women was waiting on like 14 different passports for her whole group, but it still seemed like we were there for four times as long as it "should have" taken. I'd heard that it was easy (and about half the cost) to get a visa at the border than from one of the Mozambique embassies. I was quickly disabused of that idea.

We finally get back to the bus, with the driver announcing as we ran to the bus that the other passengers were getting annoyed. Oh well. We hopped on and quickly took off. Only to stop about 3 kms later, pulling off to the side of the road for no apparent reason. After about another half-hour, some guy comes on the bus yelling at the woman who was waiting for the 14 passports, and it became clear that we'd left him behind. Oops.

Within another hour and a half and we're in Maputo after all.

Labels: malawi, maputo, south africa, transitions, transportation, travel

It was actually really sad to leave, more than I thought. I think it was helpful that it came in waves: I left work and work people on Friday, then Kayesa on Saturday, then split from Lauren and Kim on Saturday, then everyone else on Monday. But in the car ride to Lilongwe on Saturday, after we left Kayesa, which included a fond farewell from the staff to see us off, it first hit. I turned around and said, "Wow. I just left Mchinji. I don't really know what to do with that." to the girls in the back. And it was true, I didn't really know what to make of it.

For all my anxieties going into the trip (most of which hit like a ton of bricks just before leaving), I knew all along on some level that this was the thing that I was supposed to do this summer. But like most everything, I had no idea why and how until it was over.

I feel like I grew up a lot in seven weeks, got over a lot of things--patterns, fears, habits, inhibitions--that I was ready to shed, and identified some other ones as well. The work I was doing really forced me to get out of myself, to ask for help, to be persistent and follow through, to be patient, to admit that I don't already have all the answers or can figure it out alone, most of which are otherwise pretty standard modus operandi.

This was the first time that I had ever really been a foreigner. In some key ways, this was very much doing what many peoples' college study abroad experiences seem to do. I'd never been challenged (or felt challenged) by being an outsider before. I was always traveling somewhere where I knew the language, was with someone always who did, or where everyone I was meeting spoke English. My cultural and other biases hadn't really been put to the test yet either--I am really glad that I could start to see things from other perspectives and not just stay in my own. I was out of my comfort zone a lot, away from many things that keep me grounded (which I now see how much I take them for granted), and had to just keep moving through it all. I had to try things that had been things I was/would have been reluctant (or resistant) to take up at home.

A key reason why I chose to go abroad was to use this as a test run for working internationally, and I think this trip also served that function really well. I definitely think that I could live the expat life from spending those last few nights and some others early on living with expats. But I also have a sense of living in the real "field," and what that means. There are limitations of both settings, but suffice it to say that what I want and think I can handle is much clearer in this regard as well.

Lastly, but certainly not least, I feel like I have a really strong focus on what sort of work I want to do, what interests me, and what I'm hoping for professionally in the future. Some of that is a matter of topic of work (not just about a certain disease or population, but really addressing the distant determinants of health by non-directly health policy related work), some is about level of work and influence (i.e., living in the city as an expat, or in the field more as a direct worker), and some is a matter of what gaps do I see that I need to fill in the next year to get there.

In short, I guess I feel rejuvenated, much clearer about myself and who I want to be professionally and personally. It might not have changed my life, but I'm pretty certain it's changed me.

Labels: Lake Malawi, mchinji, transitions

My last 24 hours in Malawi were in Lilongwe, essentially just waiting to fly out. We got back from Senga Bay around lunchtime, when we met Simon at a favorite lunch spot (sesame chicken, and well done; I opted for a burger which came raw, and then fell back to the sesame chicken for my second attempt), and other people from Kayesa came by on their way from the airport. I was glad to have seen Alicia (one from Kayesa) one final time.

We (Heather, Emily, Simon, and I) did our regular pilgrimage to the big grocery store, and then Simon and I were going in the same direction, so we took a minibus across town. I has asked D if I could stay with her this last night--she is housesitting for a colleague who was on leave for the month and I wanted to avoid paying for a hotel if I could help it. She agreed with no problem, so I hung out at a hotel nearby her place until she was off of work.

She picked me up on her way, we hung out and cooked a stir-fry with her roommate (there are two house-sitters), had some chocolate and tea to finish and ended up having a great conversation just the two of us at the end. A lot of it was around being alone, or okay in your own skin, much of which actually foreshadowed this trip.

The next morning I just hung out at the house, watched some TV once the power came back on (and by tv, I mean The New Mickey Mouse Club E! True Hollywood Story specifically) until my taxi came. I got to the airport a bit too early (like an hour, really), but I just hung out, got a coke, and made some calls to say goodbye to people. And then I left Malawi.

Labels: food, lilongwe, malawi, transitions, travel

Emily, Heather and I went to the lake the last weekend I was in Mchinji. We were going to have a fourth, Simon, but he broke his arm the previous week and couldn't deal with the minibus in an arm sling. At one point, we were going to go further north on the lake and the weekend prior; we were all busy with work and couldn't make it happen, so we chose the following weekend (losing a few people in the process) and a place that was still in the central region, Senga Bay, to save some time. We'd never been there before, but some of the people who were here last year had gone, as had D, and offered good advice. We wanted to go to this place on the beach that had permanent tents set up instead of chalets, but they were full. We booked a room instead for one night at the Livingstonia Beach Resort (yes, it's as posh as it sounds), and then to another place for the following night because Livingstonia only had one night free.

We decided to go Saturday for a variety of reasons: we were all going to be tired from finishing things up that week with our work, that you couldn't do it all in one day unless you took the day off or overnighted in Lilongwe, and so to compromise, we thought we would have a farewell party of sorts on Friday. The party itself was a bit awkward (okay, very awkward) in the end, and felt like an obligation to attend. It consisted of most of the staff and some european relatives of the owners who were staying there and a few random drunk people who heard music off the road and came in. One in particular was completely unintelligible and kept getting passed off between me and the other white dude to deal with him until he finally got the hint. In any event, it didn't quite pan out as we'd hoped, but I was glad to have the night to pack, rest and get ready to go.

Getting there was another episode of planes, trains, and automobiles.

I'd run into this taxi driver I'd hired before in the boma on Thursday and asked him to come pick me up at 9:00 on Saturday because I was going to have my luggage (as were the others), and getting in without a car ride would have been difficult. He didn't show, and solid hour later after waiting for a number of other drivers we called, I was going to go in by bike taxi and get one myself. One showed up just as I was on my way out; we left and the car broke down not 100 yards from the inn. Fortunately, it was easy and quick to fix, but hilarious and somehow ironic at the same time. We get to the boma where I have a shirt for me and one for D to pick up at the tailor. (sidenote: mine is a straight up mu-mu. no joke. it could probably fit two of me and falls about mid-thigh). Once I have them, I start eyeing this Toyota 4x4 hoping that I can hire it to take us to lilongwe (there were five of us with all our luggage and we knew a minibus wasn't feasible; a taxi would be like $8/each) when some other guy comes up and says that he heard that I need a car for 5 to lilongwe. I'd mentioned it to my first driver and word travels fast; go figure. But dude had a station waggon and agreed to our price, so off we went.

We got to Lilongwe, had lunch at the favorite pizza place, and then off to the bus station for a bus to Salima. We had to walk a ways to find the bus itself, as they're all in different areas by destination geography and we didn't know where this one was. We finally get on, it fills to appropriate crowdedness (20-something people; I couldn't really put my feet on the ground, but I have had worse), and was a generally a fine ride.

From Salima, you basically hitch a ride to Senga Bay, which is another 15km east. Apparently Saturday afternoon is the official drinking time in Salima because everyone was out and loud around 3:00pm. There are 10 or so men who at one point or another get a little too close and offer to help us find a ride, once we'd already found one. The rides are basically the back of a pickup truck, and even once we were in ours, they wouldn't let up. One was just a little too close to Heather, to the point that I thought I might shove him off. It was just chaos. There was our truck and another one that was quite full already; to attract more people, they just honk relentlessly. Then the trucks start moving around, one in front of the other, for no apparent reason besides what we could gather as to suggest that they were more ready to leave than another. (One of our activities was to figure out who was who: we later found that this person, the honker, is just that--his job is to honk and move the car until full; similarly, there are the guys who comes to fetch people, one of whom then transitions into the money taker and the rest fall away; the driver is a third person entirely). Then, at one point a fight erupts outside a bottle store (bar) nearby between a man and a woman--it's unclear what started it, but they were both actively hitting each other. We just wanted to get out of there, and fortunately left shortly thereafter with about 6 of us in the truck bed.

Along the way, we gather what I liken the 12 days of Christmas: 27 adults, 8 pots/tubs/boxes, 7 children (including one breast feeding baby), 6 20 lb bags of maize and rice, one log, and one child holding a small chicken. Just when you think it's too full, someone else gets on. But we got there. And then we convinced them to drive us directly to our hotel, which was another 2k from Senga Bay town, for a $3 more. So we end up showing up to the nicest beach resort, and in fact the oldest hotel in Malawi, in the back of this sky blue, old pick up truck. A great sight, for sure. Emily appropriately started singing The Beverly Hillbillies theme song when we pulled through the gates.

The place was everything and more. It felt a lot like where I stayed in Mombasa, except nicer: white-washed walls, nice room, big bathroom, private beach (which is key, as it prevents people from harassing you to buy their stuff while on the beach), pool, hot tub, etc. It felt easy to forget that you were in Malawi, which at first felt a bit disconcerting, if not blatantly like we were the "bad" kind of white person in Malawi because it felt good to forget Malawi was outside the gates and live in this extravagant bubble. In the end, it became abundantly clear that it was a good thing: it was relaxing and easy, with good food and company, and worth every penny.

It was a great end to my time in Malawi. I swam every day (in the pool, not the lake), laid out a bit, just took it easy. the second day we got up early to see the sun rise over the lake which was exquisite, took an early breakfast, I got in another time for laps in the pool, and then we headed off. Not 10 feet outside the gates and I heard, "Azungu, give me bottle!" Back to reality.

We did the same trip, including crowded (and now slow) truck, and minibus back to Lilongwe. In fact, the minibus was also slow. There were three police check points: one we were more or less waved through, one the driver had to go with the police officer into this non-descript grass hut where I can't imagine anything but a bribe payment happened, and then at a third where the driver got a hard time because the vehicle's insurance papers were outdated. Only to add excitement, we actually hit a goat (and kept going) along the way.

But for all of the travel hilarity, it really was a perfect wrap up. I did feel like I had ended my time in Mchinji by Friday evening. Not to mention that I needed a distraction more than I realized--I had worked through the previous weekend so was going on two straight weeks of work. I also feel like I didn't "do" much of Malawi (which was a choice, granted), so it was good to round out my time there by seeing one of the must-sees.

Labels: beach, Lake Malawi, malawi, transportation, travel

Recap on my last week in Mchinji
1. It sunk in that I was leaving.
2. It sunk in that I had a lot of work left to do.
3. I panicked a little.
4. I calmed down.
5. I got to down work.
5a. At one point, I was going to take a motorbike out by myself, but it was deemed unsafe for me to drive alone. Not for any external safety reasons, just because I was clearly a novice and too erratic on the bike. I'm sure the show of the azungu doing (poor) laps around the flagpole outside the office was a sight.
5b. I hired a taxi, rode more public transport, and at one point, got a ride from D, the other intern who was in town representing the funder with dedicated transportation, to where I needed to go.
6. I ended up getting a lot of work done.
7. An impending departure made my own limitations clear and I started going easier on myself about not getting to do everything I wanted to.
7a. I feel like I had just hit my stride here last weekend and now it was suddenly time to leave. I could easily have spent another two weeks to a month to dig into the work I was doing to have experienced more and get a better product. When I got here eight weeks seemed like an eternity; now it seems like I just got here and I'm not quite ready (personally or professionally) to leave.
8. Six and seven were directly facilitated by a good talk to C, whom I have only spoken with twice since she left.
9. I had that I-just-took-my-last-final feeling after my last meeting on Friday afternoon. I realized that one some level, I was getting some closure and wrap up from the whole experience, a cosmic sign that it's the right time to go.
10. I left (see next post).

Labels: azungu, malawi, mchinji, transitions

i'm writing this from maputo, mozambique; specifically, from this really interesting arts space that has a food cafe, internet cafe, gallery and performance spaces. I think I am going to come here tomorrow night for a dance performance and Friday night for a chorus something or other (my portguese is based on abstracting from my french, which is to say, pretty poor these days...thus, i couldnt read the poster very well to see exactly what it was). But in any event, besides fighting with a non-english keyboard here, i am quite enjoying myself so far. I have plenty of updates on my laptop to upload about finishing up things in malawi and then getting here just this morning, but i just wanted to put up something to say that i am around still. plenty of stories, maybe even pictures to come soon. in the meantime, i am really enjoying maputo, whose character puts lilongze to shame for sure. in any event, more soon.

Hard to believe i will be back in the states this time next week...time really does fly...

Labels: malawi, mauto, transitions, travel