Last night was the best in Malawi so far. You know, little computer, how lonesome I have been all week here, and how much I would cry at being so alone and sad and anxious. I would wait all day just for evening where I could finally go use the internet and then talk to my mother on the phone. Each phone conversation would fuel my strength for the next 24 hours of no communication, like a breath of clean air before sinking again in a stony mud hole.
But, last night, the light broke through the darkness at long last! This little buoy of life that I have been clinging to in this sea of loneliness has brought me to light, in view that a great ship of joy and company has arrived just at my exhausted self.
I went over to the Wood’s home at 6, and there met an array of interesting people. Dave and Sue woods, themselves, are Americans, so in that I found some comfort. They have two daughters, Janelle, 15, and Marquelle, 11. A small family called the Le Portes, who have just arrived to Malawi yesterday from Mozambique, were also there when I arrived. We later discovered that they are related to the Greenlaw’s by marriage! Isn’t that wild? They are Austin’s step-mother’s family, the grandparents and uncle of Austin’s half-sisters: Eden, Teagan, and Kyla! How bizarre! Somehow, for years, I have been loosely connected to these people, and now, here we are in Africa, meeting. I’m sure his head will spin when he hears this! I mean, imagine finding a connection like that over here on the other side of the world. Anyway, it was a heart-warming thing.
On the spot, when I arrived, I helped with dinner. It eases the mind and the faculties knowing that you are somehow aiding your host, in return for their kindnesses. In time, a group of young people arrived, to my great joy. Most of them work for Maranatha, under the direction of Mr. Woods. I met Krystle first, an Australian girl who works with ADRA here. After her, I met Adam, Moka, Shokina, Brundy (the Le Portes’ son), and then Yann (I don’t think one spell’s the name like that, but that’s how I visualized it-like Yann Tiersen). Yann is South African, and Moka is from India, and Shokina is Indian but a native to Malawi, and Adam looks British, but his parents live in California. So many people! And so lively!
We spent the evening worshiping, telling stories, getting to know one another, eating, and fellowshipping. Again, it was the best night in Malawi thus far. Now I can see a little glimmer in Malawi life that may blossom into something great and beautiful. We shall need to see as time passes. But, today is my first day of church in Malawi, and Krystle is to pick me up at 10.
Monday, September 27, 2010
#2
August 4?, 2010
So I am here, on this horn-tipped continent, in the South Eastern section of it, quiet alone, and not a little bit afraid. I have twice walked into town, and both times experienced different, overwhelming sensations. The first was blind fear. The second was a mix of sickly sluggishness and headstrong indifference. My whole day is compiled of doing little things to get me through until 3:30, when I can go to the hospital to use the internet. All day, I have wasted time, filling up the slow seconds with even slower activity, aching for the evening to finally arrive. These days are slow, very slow. All I want is evening, so that I can do my business and talk with my mother via the phone. Her voice is medicine to my quivering soul-it is all I need to get me through this time of sadness. I pray that Cassie comes soon. My depression is evolving into sheer boredom. What can I do? With no appetite, no entertainment save my own mind and this computer, and no schedule to adhere to, what else is left? Today I walked into town, watched Ethel and Shadrac clean my floor, get my phone and number from Elisha, made lunch, read my book, and prayed for evening to be here. My sickness was more intriguing than these slow days. And it’s only Tuesday! It’s only been two days since I arrived here! How can that be? It’s felt like two months. I stopped caring about my appearance this morning, and I stopped being interested in fitting into African society. I’m American, nearly 20 years old, and am hired as the teacher for the missionary children this year. Blantyre is my home for the next 10 months, and, no offense, but I cannot help but wish it along. I crave my mother’s embrace, my home and my things, my school and my friends, my comforts and my familiar foods and places. The warmth is even lacking here. But I suppose this is what every missionary goes through, and it would be unnatural if I didn’t feel homesick and lonely in these first few weeks. I know that as time passes, especially these first three weeks, that I will begin to be accustomed to everything. I know that by the end of this journey, I will be a bigger person.
I think it is less scary to think of coming here as something to just put on my resume. But when you’re coming here because you truly believe God told you to come here, and you’re relying on that say-so, things get murky, and scary. All of a sudden, you aren’t in control, and you’re relying on something so much bigger than yourself. Things are up in the air. You know that by the end of the road, you will be transformed. But it is easier to think that you will just be a better person for it all. So what will it be? Will I be transformed, or will I merely be a well-rounded, well-traveled, well-cultured, and confident person? or is that what being transformed means? How low do I have to go in order to be changed? Can I still be me, with my things and my comforts, or do I need to give up all of those things and find repose in other more puritanical measures? Can I still have my music, my paints, my books, my clothes and still be changed? Or do my personal comforts hinder any changes possible? I think they do not. Regardless of whether I have my things here with me or not, I will still be teaching this year. I will still have to grade papers, teach English, manage bratty kids, buy my own food, arrange travel plans, etc, whether I am given my own comforts or not. In fact, I could be doing the exact same job in Connecticut, and still be changed by the end of it. However, I happen to have been placed in the middle of Africa, with no friends, and a whole lot of fear on my side. I wish I wasn’t so afraid. I think I will be less afraid when Cass gets here. Then I will have a friend and confidant. Happiness is completely circumstantial, I’m afraid.
So I am here, on this horn-tipped continent, in the South Eastern section of it, quiet alone, and not a little bit afraid. I have twice walked into town, and both times experienced different, overwhelming sensations. The first was blind fear. The second was a mix of sickly sluggishness and headstrong indifference. My whole day is compiled of doing little things to get me through until 3:30, when I can go to the hospital to use the internet. All day, I have wasted time, filling up the slow seconds with even slower activity, aching for the evening to finally arrive. These days are slow, very slow. All I want is evening, so that I can do my business and talk with my mother via the phone. Her voice is medicine to my quivering soul-it is all I need to get me through this time of sadness. I pray that Cassie comes soon. My depression is evolving into sheer boredom. What can I do? With no appetite, no entertainment save my own mind and this computer, and no schedule to adhere to, what else is left? Today I walked into town, watched Ethel and Shadrac clean my floor, get my phone and number from Elisha, made lunch, read my book, and prayed for evening to be here. My sickness was more intriguing than these slow days. And it’s only Tuesday! It’s only been two days since I arrived here! How can that be? It’s felt like two months. I stopped caring about my appearance this morning, and I stopped being interested in fitting into African society. I’m American, nearly 20 years old, and am hired as the teacher for the missionary children this year. Blantyre is my home for the next 10 months, and, no offense, but I cannot help but wish it along. I crave my mother’s embrace, my home and my things, my school and my friends, my comforts and my familiar foods and places. The warmth is even lacking here. But I suppose this is what every missionary goes through, and it would be unnatural if I didn’t feel homesick and lonely in these first few weeks. I know that as time passes, especially these first three weeks, that I will begin to be accustomed to everything. I know that by the end of this journey, I will be a bigger person.
I think it is less scary to think of coming here as something to just put on my resume. But when you’re coming here because you truly believe God told you to come here, and you’re relying on that say-so, things get murky, and scary. All of a sudden, you aren’t in control, and you’re relying on something so much bigger than yourself. Things are up in the air. You know that by the end of the road, you will be transformed. But it is easier to think that you will just be a better person for it all. So what will it be? Will I be transformed, or will I merely be a well-rounded, well-traveled, well-cultured, and confident person? or is that what being transformed means? How low do I have to go in order to be changed? Can I still be me, with my things and my comforts, or do I need to give up all of those things and find repose in other more puritanical measures? Can I still have my music, my paints, my books, my clothes and still be changed? Or do my personal comforts hinder any changes possible? I think they do not. Regardless of whether I have my things here with me or not, I will still be teaching this year. I will still have to grade papers, teach English, manage bratty kids, buy my own food, arrange travel plans, etc, whether I am given my own comforts or not. In fact, I could be doing the exact same job in Connecticut, and still be changed by the end of it. However, I happen to have been placed in the middle of Africa, with no friends, and a whole lot of fear on my side. I wish I wasn’t so afraid. I think I will be less afraid when Cass gets here. Then I will have a friend and confidant. Happiness is completely circumstantial, I’m afraid.
this blog may get erased. but first, a few more just to show.
August 2-3, 2010
Last got I had my first experience with food poisoning. It was the most awful thing. After I spoke with Mom online, I was feeling ill, so I came and laid down in my bed. Soon enough, I started to feel extraordinarily nauseous. After laying down in bed for a while, I went to the bathroom and vomited a few times. It was that gross pizza-I don’t think I can ever look at pizza in the same way. After I vomited, I felt a tinge better, and so I took out my contacts, turned out the light, and fell into bed. The problem was that I didn’t have any bottled water left, and I didn’t want to drink the tap. I think I would have vomited again had I done that-just because of the taste and I don’t know if I boiled it good enough. Anyway, I fell asleep very quickly, and for an hour, I was nauseous. At around 7 pm, I got up again, thinking I needed to vomit again. Instead, it was the other end, and I sat down on the toilet. The oddest thing happened then-I became very weak, and I started to lose my hearing. Bizarre! At the time, I had no idea why I couldn’t hear at the present, but I was too weak to care. I went to the bathroom, and while that was happening, I broke out in a cold sweat, but became very, very hot. I peeled off my windbreaker. As soon as I was finished, I think I must have flushed, and then gone to the sink, but my body was swinging wildly around. Before I knew what was happening, my body collapsed under me, and I think I fainted. I’m not sure, but I laid on the tile for probably 4 or 5 minutes, only thinking about how cold and good it felt, since I was sweating madly. And then, as soon as the heat flash had come, I broke out again in shivers, and opened my eyes. Before my eyes, I saw that when I fainted/fell, I pulled the sink with me, and it was dangling upside down. That’s when I knew things were seriously not good. I had only wanted to get back into bed, but now I knew I had to go to the Guarino’s. So, I left my house and rang their door bell, and told them everything that happened. More than anything, I just wanted some water, but NOT from the tap. I don’t care if it’s clean, I am not drinking it. They gave me Pepto-Bismal, and Dr. Guarino went out and got me two bottles of water. Ann had me stay in Bianca’s room, so that she could observe me, and make sure I was okay.
I think I woke up three or four times during the night, and drank some water-slowly at first, and then more rapidly as the night wore on. That really helped. So, I just woke up and I’m not nauseous anymore, just very tired, and a little dizzy still. Dr. Guarino said that I got food poisoning from the left over pizza-that explains the dizziness, vomiting, and head ache. At least it’s not malaria. They thought I might have got it since I have so many mosquito bites on my legs. But fortunately enough, malaria begins with a headache and fever. I didn’t get either of those symptoms until after I vomited. So, I’m eating a little now, and then I think I will rest more. My bathroom floor is flooded with water leakage. I feel bad for that.
But I am so thankful that it is over, and I praying that it doesn’t come back soon-rather, ever again. I hope that chapter of my life is finished.
I am so anxious to talk to mom tonight. I am getting my phone unlocked, so we can talk around 4 pm. I can’t wait! It’s the highlight of my day, and of my week. And mom is sending out a box for me, and she’s shipping it overnight, so I should get it either this week or next week. Haha, only in Africa does “overnight” mean about 4-8 days.
Okay, I am going now. Good bye.
Last got I had my first experience with food poisoning. It was the most awful thing. After I spoke with Mom online, I was feeling ill, so I came and laid down in my bed. Soon enough, I started to feel extraordinarily nauseous. After laying down in bed for a while, I went to the bathroom and vomited a few times. It was that gross pizza-I don’t think I can ever look at pizza in the same way. After I vomited, I felt a tinge better, and so I took out my contacts, turned out the light, and fell into bed. The problem was that I didn’t have any bottled water left, and I didn’t want to drink the tap. I think I would have vomited again had I done that-just because of the taste and I don’t know if I boiled it good enough. Anyway, I fell asleep very quickly, and for an hour, I was nauseous. At around 7 pm, I got up again, thinking I needed to vomit again. Instead, it was the other end, and I sat down on the toilet. The oddest thing happened then-I became very weak, and I started to lose my hearing. Bizarre! At the time, I had no idea why I couldn’t hear at the present, but I was too weak to care. I went to the bathroom, and while that was happening, I broke out in a cold sweat, but became very, very hot. I peeled off my windbreaker. As soon as I was finished, I think I must have flushed, and then gone to the sink, but my body was swinging wildly around. Before I knew what was happening, my body collapsed under me, and I think I fainted. I’m not sure, but I laid on the tile for probably 4 or 5 minutes, only thinking about how cold and good it felt, since I was sweating madly. And then, as soon as the heat flash had come, I broke out again in shivers, and opened my eyes. Before my eyes, I saw that when I fainted/fell, I pulled the sink with me, and it was dangling upside down. That’s when I knew things were seriously not good. I had only wanted to get back into bed, but now I knew I had to go to the Guarino’s. So, I left my house and rang their door bell, and told them everything that happened. More than anything, I just wanted some water, but NOT from the tap. I don’t care if it’s clean, I am not drinking it. They gave me Pepto-Bismal, and Dr. Guarino went out and got me two bottles of water. Ann had me stay in Bianca’s room, so that she could observe me, and make sure I was okay.
I think I woke up three or four times during the night, and drank some water-slowly at first, and then more rapidly as the night wore on. That really helped. So, I just woke up and I’m not nauseous anymore, just very tired, and a little dizzy still. Dr. Guarino said that I got food poisoning from the left over pizza-that explains the dizziness, vomiting, and head ache. At least it’s not malaria. They thought I might have got it since I have so many mosquito bites on my legs. But fortunately enough, malaria begins with a headache and fever. I didn’t get either of those symptoms until after I vomited. So, I’m eating a little now, and then I think I will rest more. My bathroom floor is flooded with water leakage. I feel bad for that.
But I am so thankful that it is over, and I praying that it doesn’t come back soon-rather, ever again. I hope that chapter of my life is finished.
I am so anxious to talk to mom tonight. I am getting my phone unlocked, so we can talk around 4 pm. I can’t wait! It’s the highlight of my day, and of my week. And mom is sending out a box for me, and she’s shipping it overnight, so I should get it either this week or next week. Haha, only in Africa does “overnight” mean about 4-8 days.
Okay, I am going now. Good bye.
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