Malawi: The "Warm Heart of Africa"

3:57AM: The roosters crow way too early here. Momentarily roused, I drift back to sleep thinking, “that damn bird’s broken again” and dreaming of roosters strutting around with giant snooze buttons on their head. But then he crows again, and I’m forced to peak one eye open and blindly search for my phone. The room is still dark, but the moon is bright and casts a silver light through the gauzy white mosquito netting. My phone blinks neon blue in the dark, and I see that, indeed, it’s just as early as I thought it was.

That bird has been broken ever since I arrived in country. He crows at the ungodly hour between 3:30 and 4:00AM and then again 12 hours later in the afternoon. I’m pretty sure he and the rest of his compatriots need to be reset, if there were a way to do so, but I also know that this is the standard reveille for most Malawians. It’s something I learned my first day in country when my counterpart, in depositing me at my guesthouse, said “Okay, see you tomorrow at 7:30!” I thought it might be a one-time affair to arrive at work so early, but going on day 15, it seems to be the norm. The day begins and ends early, with most Malawians going to bed by 8:30 or 9:00. As Malawi, located in the Southern Hemisphere, is now entering its winter, I don’t know if this is just a seasonal quirk. Regardless, it’s a schedule, along with the roosters, which I must adjust to for the next few months.

Malawi – the little I’ve seen of it thus far - is a beautiful country. It has vegetation similar to that of Rwanda – friendly waving banana leaves, spiked palms, dense avocado trees and other trees which resemble some variation of an oak. It is hilly though not in any readily observable manner; the curves of the land are hidden by the dense vegetation. On the outskirts of the capital, the land immediately converts to farmland with wave after wave of maize and red-tipped long grass stretching out before you. I have yet to visit the famed Lake Malawi, but I know its waters will only compound the beauty of the country. Indeed, most of what I have observed outside the capital of Lilongwe has been on trips to my eventual site in Ntchisi. The district features a similar topography to the capital though it is, obviously, much more rural.

One thing available in my district which I have yet to find in the capital are field mice - grilled on sticks and ready to eat. Bon appétit! I really thought my friend, Malcolm, was joking when he mentioned this local delicacy. Even when my driver motioned to a small boy holding a stick by the roadside and said “mice,” I didn’t put two and two together. I looked to the ground and said, “No, that was a boy,” convinced he was confusing English words. He shook his head at the naïve American and smiled. It was only upon seeing another small boy by the road that I finally noticed the mice dangling from the stick he carried. We’ll see if I get up the gumption to try mice before I leave the country… me thinks not.

What I have seen of the capital, I have explored mostly on the weekends, as I don’t have much time during the actual week. Some friends and I ventured to a land dedication ceremony on Sunday and were treated to a local dance exhibition that reminded me of they way boys treat girls in elementary school. It was pretty fantastic, featuring giant papier-mâché animal replicas with male actors underneath who would occasionally break ranks to chase the female singers. A giant red, white, and black snapping turtle and what appeared to be an antelope would pursue the women after which the females would cautiously creep back towards the animals, whispering things behind cupped hands. Twenty-four hours after the fact, I’m still not quite sure what I actually witnessed. I’ve also made it out to a few dance clubs in town, which allowed me to watch men stalk women in a different way. Err, awkward…

In addition to my weekend explorations, I have also resumed my role of “the odd white girl who runs.” Waking at 5:30 each day, I’m able to log a few miles before I have to report to work and, in turn, provide countless Malawians with some early morning giggles and/or heart attacks. I have yet to hear anyone say to me, “What the hell is that?” as they routinely did in Mauritania, but there is one older gentleman who every day without fail will take a few wary steps back as he sees me approach and then scamper across the road to walk on the other side. I really want to smile and greet him with something akin to “I come in peace,” but instead we usually meet at the point in my run when I’m snotty, red-faced, and barreling towards the proverbial finish line. Perhaps this forthcoming week…

Though I’ve highlighted those rarified moments above when my “otherness” was readily apparent, in general, Malawians have been wonderfully cordial and welcoming. They have a slow, sarcastic wit that isn’t showy, but always makes you chuckle in retrospect. And the Malawians with whom I work seem genuinely honest and motivated to change their own circumstances and that of their compatriots. Having travelled throughout West and Central Africa, I wonder if perhaps I really have found “the warm heart of Africa.”