The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a wood and I,
I took the one less traveled by.
And that has made all the difference.

The road not taken can in some ways be frightening but at the same time, an avenue to discovery. It is along this road that we are often confronted by the unfamiliar, and so the true nature of what were are is brought to light. I can’t imagine every being an effective public servant if I don’t understand why it is I do what I do and who I really am. Perhaps this is the greatest reward for traveling down this road. This road brings me encounters with people who help me learn about myself and at the same time, teach me so much. These lessons are ones I could never learn from any book, school, or educational video.

I have taken this road many times and its destination has never been the same. Though I may not know where it will lead, it has yet to let me down. And I hate to think of the person I would be and how boring things may be if I hadn’t taken this road. All of us should attempt to travel down this road. To ignore it, is to miss so much, for life’s little beauties are found along this road.

And so two roads diverged:

And as I rounded the corner I saw a woman sitting on the ground, her chitenje protecting her from the dirt, enjoying the Saturday morning sun. As I approached her, I found my self asking her:

“Mazuka bwanji?” (How is your morning?)

She smiled and replied, “Dazuka bwino. Kya inu? (My morning is fine and you?)

It took a moment for the words to register in my head but finally I responded,

“Bwino. Zikomo.” (Fine. Thank you).

We shared a laugh and she thanked me for speaking in her native language, and I in turn, inwardly thanked her for allowing me to have this moment and for sharing her country with me.

That has made all the difference.

I thank all of you for traveling down this road with me.

And a big thanks to all those at CHAI.

Until the road rises up to meet me again………….

The Little Things

The longer I live, the more I realize that the little things matter the most in life. And often, it is often these little things that are the most profound. I have come to find in Malawi that the most profound moments have been the little moments that have occurred during my walks and runs in the morning. I wanted to share a few such moments with you. Halfway through my stay here, I decided to stop taking my camera with me on my walks. It was easy to take a picture of kids and Malawians going about everyday life. But to actually stop and talk with them created a far better lasting memory than a photo.

Running with my iPod one morning, a young boy who didn’t speak much English stopped me and pointed to my ears. He wanted to know what the strange object on my head was. I explained that they were headphones and he repeated the word until he was finally able to pronounce it. I have seen him on 2 other occasions and he smiles, points to his ears, and says “headphones” as if he is so proud to have a new English word in his vocabulary.

While walking to the grocery store yesterday, I passed by a group of kids sitting in the grass playing. I thought I could slip by unnoticed, but a young boy in an oversized red sweatshirt stood up and ran to the edge of the road with the vigor of a child running to the sound of an ice cream truck. He smiled and frantically waved and said hello. Seeing how much joy that kid had in saying hello to me gave me such joy. The little things.

Perhaps my favorite moment came when I ran by a guard who I pass every morning. Not speaking much English, he managed to ask if he could run with me. And so we ran together, not able to say much but our common activity was enough to allow us to have a brief moment of connection. A Malawian man and a “mzungu” running on the dirt road. A short, little moment.

And it is in these “moments” that we can observe and connect. I find we often miss out on these in America because we are always on the go, consumed with ourselves, and bombarded by advertisements to buy this or that instead of trying for free what life has to offer right in front of us. That’s why I love my walks and runs because I can connect with the things I might miss. In Africa, people walk with a destination in mind, as walking is the most common mode of transport, and so walking for the sake of walking is odd. While I was out one morning, a Malawian asked, “You are simply walking back and forth?” My lack of destination confused him. “Yeah,” I thought. “I’m simply walking but I do have a destination in mind-an inward destination. A destination of these little moments.”

The Fight Agianst HIV/AIDS

There was a study released in the Lancet warning that both condoms and ARVs were needed to treat AIDS. If those who are HIV-positive and on ARVs become complacent and stop using condoms, HIV infections could increase by 10 million, the stdy warned. Go here for more: http://www.reuters.com/article/healthNews/idUSSP10037520080725

That seems like an easy proposal-except if you are trying to fight AIDS in Africa. What has been reinforced during my time in Malawi is the need for education. There are billboards everywhere that say "Hygiene is important. Drive carefully." Butter and cooking oil labels boast of being fortified with Vitamin A which is good for a child's health. These seemed comical to me until it dawned on me that these messages don't appear to be common sense to those without education. Compunding the lack of education is stigma and cultural beliefs that make it very difficult to treat AIDS. Many believe witchcraft causes AIDS and so medicine cannot help treat the disease. Others believe AIDS can be cured by having sex with a virigin. Thousands of condoms and drugs won't help when you have a population that does not understand AIDS or is too afraid to even talk about it.

Also, procurring drugs can be difficult. Some ARVs are procured from China. Today it was cautioned that shipments of drugs could be delayed because of the Olympics. They have shut down production to make China appear a more eco-friendly country during the Olympics.

The Lancet also included a study that found that ARVs can add 13 years to a person's life and if someone starts taking the drugs at age 20, they will live an additional 43 years. In Africa, the average life expectancy is less than 43 years.

Government programs like PEPFAR are a great help in fighting the AIDS pandemic but unless education and prevention methods are included in the fight, condoms and ARVs will simply be a band-aid on a gaping wound.

Mending Wall

I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again,
We keep the wall between us as we go.

He only says, “Good fences make good neighbors.”
-Mending Wall, Robert Frost

Forgive me if this post may seem a bit cynical and harsh but I wanted to share an observation that I have come across and have been puzzled by.

I have been reading Nelson Mandela’s autobiography and reading of the accounts of apartheid and white “superiority” and that left me thinking: who are we to judge and compare those we do not know? How can we come to a place and be in it but not of it? We appear as ghosts and not lifelike to the communities we come to inhabit. It fascinates me that one could come to a place like Africa, a new culture but yet be miles away because of the walls built. There is a failure in some instances to connect and integrate with that culture. I do see a more globalized world, but in some cases, I simply see people relocating and brining their walls with them. Why the isolation? I cannot fathom how some can claim to help people that they do not even know, do not even connect with, do not even try to interact with. The many I have met that have established a deep sense of connection to the people of Africa hold the true success, for they have gained a better understanding and world-view because they have decided to remove the walls.

Taking the first step to know one’s neighbors, or my case, the people of Africa, is the first step toward working together to end poverty, fight disease, and develop. To not gain that understanding is to work against these ideals. If I could do it all over again, I would learn the language, as that has become an invisible wall for me. I have written many times about my attempts to speak Chichewa with others but I find that language is not simply a means to relay messages, but it is a connector as well. And my attempts to cook nsima and learn the traditional dances are gestures of removing the bricks from my wall. They may seem tiny gestures, but they go a long way. And I say good fences make no neighbors at all.

Before I built a wall, I’d ask to know,
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.

Some of the walls in the area:

New Weapons of War

Knowledge about diabetes is fairly common in Africa. However, many are less familiar with the insulin pump. When they see my pump, they often ask if it is a phone or player (a radio). The other day I heard a new one. Austin, who works for CHDI asked: "Is that a hand grenade?"

Austin said it with a joking tone and normally this would lead to much laughter. But when he said this (and Austin isn't the quietiest person) Sir Tom Hunter, the Scottish philanthropist who co-founded the Clinton-Hunter Development Initative (CHDI), just happened to be visiting the office that day. I was waiting for the swarm of policmen to coming running at the word "grenade" and wisk me away to a small, dark concrete room where I would be interagated by the Malawian version of Jack Bauer and be forced to surrender my "grenade." Fortunately, none of this happened. (As a side note, Sir Tom has a very interesting story that is worth learning about).

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Hunter

But as the "hand grenade" was a different approach to describing my pump, the development approach of CHDI is also unique. Many NGOs establish programs and then try to scale them up nationally. CHDI uses the "drag effect." Think of a fisherman's net: He throws it in the water and as he drags it along, all fish in its path are caught up and carried along with the net. CHDI attempts to use the small projects it works on to drag the entire country toward development. For example, in Neno, CHDI is working with a hundred or so cotton farmers. The price for cotton had been MK 40 (less than 40 cents) per kiliogram. CHDI found a market for these farmers at MK 70. The Malawian government saw this and said if CHDI could guarantee a market at this price, the government could do the same and raised the price of cotton to MK 65.. Shotly after, the national price for cotton rose to MK 70. The cotton harvest is expected to reach 45,000 metric tons this year and with the MK 30 increase in price, an additional $10 million will be injected into the country-all from one small project. A small net with a large catch.

This past week took me to the northern most part of Malawi, Chitipa, and brought with it lots of dust, "African massage" (courtesy of the bumpy roads), and a failed attempt to learn Tikonguru.

As I was conducting interviews and listening to the many cultural beliefs that affect health and hearing about witchdoctors, I began to think that how far can development go if we don't change the mentality. Clearly, malnutrition is not caused by a husband having an affair. A man who has a wealthy business is not successful because he uses witchcraft. Yet, this is what people believe. Malawi is a guinea pig for NGOs, most of them focussing on building facilities, producing a larger harvest, etc. Don't get me wrong, infrastructure and resources are needed. However, how successful can these be if we do not change the mentality of the people using them, and do we have the patience to do so? To change soemthing that has been ingrained in the culture for so long is dificult but I can't see the glass ceiling being broken until this is done.

Meat in Chitipia is scarce, yet there are thousands of heads of cattle. Cattle are seen as a symbol of wealth and status and so they are not eaten. One Malawian remarked, "Most of these people will die without tasting their cows." And where is the line between respecting culture and trying to intervene for the sake of health?

I have mentioned before how frustrating it can be moving from place to place and not being able to establish deep relationships. But while in Chitipia, I felt connected with the Malawians. As we rode to the health centers, the Malawians would talk in a mix of Chichewa, Ticonguru, and English. When they would laugh, I would laugh with them, even though I may not have undestood their sense of humor. However, there were times during this trip when I did understand and when I could share something with them that would make them laugh and we laughed together. Those moments I truly felt connected.

Taking a Picture vs. Painting a Picture

I am back in Neno for the week and it is by far the most beautiful place-beautiful for its scenery and for its people. It clearly is the place "where the streets have no name." I have experienced quite a bit this week but one minor observation, maybe even a frustration, is that I do so much traveling around the country that I don't get to spend much time in one place getting to know the people and environment. In this sense, I'm merely taking a picture and then moving on. If I were painting a picture (please forgive the art metaphor), I would be more invested, creating the painting itself. If I were in the safe place for an extended period of time, I would be able to build the kind of lasting relationships that touch people andmake them but aside all their sceptisim of your presence. The Malawians here in Neno all want me to come back and so do I. It is easier to take the picture, but far greater the reward and more personal the process of painting the picture.


The hospital visits and clinic visits never get easier. Malnutrition is so rampant here that it no longer phases anyone. It has become a fact of life. And the distance to the clinics is too far for many to come. I found one woman who walked 8 hours to come to a clinic. There is 1 ambulance for 4 health sites and as we traveled, we often stopped to escort children to the hosptial. There was one who was badly burned and if we had not arrived, the child would more than likely have not gone to the hospital because of the distance. The work being done by the Clinton Foundation, Partners in Health, and other groups has done so much for Neno but when you are staring at kids whose eyes are suken into their heads and have been reduced to a skeleton because of AIDS, it seems like a drop in the bucket. And if there ever comes the day when it no longer feels uncomfortable for me to see these images, then that is the day where I fear complacency will take hold. But despite all this, there are the people who are always smiling and are always grateful for what they have. For every sick child, there is the little girl I pass everyday on the main road who has the brighest smile sticking out from her large, pink hat. They truly embody the idea of hope. And maybe that is why Neno is so beautiful.

Malawian BBQ consist of mice on a stick. They aren't too bad, except for the part about the fur.