Flour Tortillas

I made this! And I will never buy tortillas from a grocery store again - this is too easy and tastes much better fresh.

2 cups flour

1/4 cup oil

1 tsp salt

3/4 water

In a bowl, combine flour and salt. Make a well in the center. Pour in oil and water, mix well. The dough should not be too sticky or too stiff. Add more flour or water to reach desired consistency. Take about 2 tbs of dough and form into a ball. Roll into tortillas (I did not have a rolling pin, so I used an empty beer bottle - classy). on a lightly floured surface. Fry in a hot, dry skillet until both sides have brown spots.

Corn Tortillas: Substitute 1 cup corn flour for 1 cup flour and add an extra tbs of oil and water to make dough workable.

Tortilla Chips: Prepare tortillas as directed, slice into wedges after rolling the tortilla out. Sprinkle with salt, garlic powder or peri peri and place on a lightly greased cookie sheet. Bake at 180 degrees until crisp (or if you don't have an oven, which I don't) The wedges can be fried in hot oil, then drained on a paper towel. Season chips while still warm. Keep chips in an airtight container.

A Day in the Life

I wake up when the roosters crow, which typically starts at 4am. I will myself back to sleep (typically recalling the day, but going backwards - works every time - thanks, Massiel!) and wake again (for real) at 6am. I've been trying to run in the mornings (mostly to go unnoticed by the majority of the village and also it's cooler in the mornings), usually only 20 minutes or so, maybe 4 times a week. Although I am the dirty kid of Peace Corps, I always shower after I run (you're welcome, Malawi) - usually a cold bucket bath - the "running water" isn't always running. I make a fire and heat up some water for tea or coffee or hot chocolate. There's just something about starting your day off with something warm, even in tropical Malawi. It's like easing your way into the day - not such a shock to the system.

If I ran that morning, I treat myself to french toast or pancakes. If not, I go with oatmeal. I sit on my reed mat reading short stories from The New Yorker magazines that the last volunteer left behind. I do a few chores (dishes, laundry, sweeping, watering flowers, whatever needs to be done) and then head to the hospital.

Now my duties at the hospital were never clearly outlined, which is fine, I just come and go as I please. If there are babies in the Nutrition Rehabilitation Unit, I feed them at 9am, 12pm, 3pm and 6pm. If there's an Under 5 Clinic (this bad boy gets its own blog, stay tuned) then I weigh and register children. If I'm just going to the hospital to see where I could be useful, then I check temperatures and note them in each patient's book. Typically I spend anywhere from 1-3 hours at the hospital. Mostly to kill time and have a schedule for myself and, selfishly, to practice my Tonga. In this setting, I can't always resort to English, so I have to use my language. They hardly need me at the hospital, but it's nice to be involved. Also, good for networking.

I head back home for a snack. Usually I break open a grapefruit or bananas and then read some more New Yorker magazine or do a Sudoku - I finally mastered "Difficult" - pretty proud of myself. Maybe a few more chores (fetching water from the borehole [which is used for drinking - I don't drink straight out of the tap...well, a couple times I did...again, another blog on that topic...], mopping, cleaning my yard [which seems to always be a mess?!]). Usually I go down to the market, mostly to chat and practice my Chitonga - sometimes I buy eggs, bananas or bread - things I go through constantly.

I start working on lunch around 11 or 12 - it takes a while to get a fire started in my charcoal stove so I typically snack while getting it started. I make something fantastic for lunch (because I'm a fabulous cook now) and devour it...while reading the New Yorker or writing letters home (just to be sure nobody forgets me).

Then I make my rounds visiting the neighbors. At first I just stopped over to their houses to say hello, but soon they complained that I rushed off so quickly. So I chat with them for as long as I can, then I move on to the next neighbor. Sometimes there is jealousy among the neighbors (as you can guess, everybody knows everything that I do) so they try to make me stay for dinner. I usually oblige, one less time I have to start a fire. But I also cook at home, starting my cooking around 4, as it gets dark by 6 and I usually need ample time to make a fire.

At night, I read until I'm tired. I try to make sure all my dishes are clean because running water is hit or miss, especially in the mornings, so it's better to be prepared than to be eating out of a dirty bowl.

On the weekends, I visit with friends. Clarissa and Sol are 20 minutes (by car) south of me and Robert is 30 minutes north (by car).  I can easily ride my bike if I want to save kwach. Usually we swim at the lake.

I plan a trip once a month to Mzuzu for supplies and a visit to the bank. Mzuzu is the city closest to me (about 3 hours, depends on who is driving). I can get pretty much anything in Mzuzu, so it's nice to do one big shopping trip at the beginning of the month. Halfway through the month I try to get to Chintheche at least once to check mail and restock. There are few veggies in my village (tomatoes and onions and occasionally a leafy green) so it's nice to get to a market that has more of a selection.

So currently that is my life. It's very glamorous.

Books

I've been reading books like a fiend! Any recommendations? Want to send me a couple to keep me company? I've got nothing but time... 

Curried Eggplant

I made this!

2 medium eggplants, sliced in 1 inch pieces

1 medium onion, chopped

1 tsp garam masala

chili powder

1 green pepper, chopped

1 tsp salt

4 tbs oil

Quarter eggplant slices and soak in salted water for 10 minutes to remove bitterness and drain. Add onion, green pepper, salt and spices; mix well. Heat oil in a skilled and toss in vegetables. Cook over medium heat for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Reduce heat and cook until eggplant is tender. Serve with rice.

The Story of Ginger

I still laugh at this story, but maybe you won't think it's as funny. Maybe "you had to be there." Anyway, here is the tale (tail? wakka wakka) of Ginger.

One early morning, 5am or earlier, I can't remember...the sun was coming up over Dwambazi and it was chilly. Clarissa and I were standing along the M5 highway waiting for a ride to Mzuzu. We asked everyone what time the bus to Mzuzu leaves Dwambazi and I literally got a different answer every time. So, we thought 5am would be a fair time so we sat by the side of the road hoping for the bus, but were willing to take whatever we could get. A man was gutting a goat on a hand-made wooden table, as the sun was peaking over the tops of the trees (I only point this out because Clarissa looked at me at that very moment and asked me if it has hit me that we were in Africa...I notoriously say no, it hasn't hit me that we are in Africa and that we live here now...but honestly, gutting a goat on the side of the road is pretty foreign...)

Now, being the only white person in my village, I stand out. Everyone greets me, everyone wants to be my friend. I'm all for it. But at 5am, while I'm waiting for a bus, it's not the best time to forge a friendship.

The stray dogs were huddling close. Not my cup of tea. I don't cuddle stray dogs. Maybe it was the alluring scent of my peanut butter sandwhiches. Maybe they just wanted to irritate me.

Anyway, after sitting for over an hour with absolutely no cars going by, we started to get angsty. A kid came up, asking to be my friend. I said, sure. He asked me if the stray dog was mine. I said, "yeah. Her name is Ginger." We talked for a while about Ginger, what a good dog she was, how she saved Timmy from the well. Finally a mini bus pulled up heading for Mzuzu, we hopped in and the kid yelled "Hey, lady! You forgot your dog! Ginger, get in the bus, get in the bus, Ginger!" The kid was pulling on Ginger by the scruff of her neck and she would have gladly gotten in the bus if I hadn't stuck my foot out to block her. I was not adopting any pets at this time. "No, no, Ginger knows her way home. See you later!" And I slammed the door shut.

Yeah, so I'm a liar. But hardly. Ginger must understand English because she is always at my house. I don't feed her, I don't even acknowledge her. She is just there. Somewhat nice to get all the benefits of protection without having to do much work. Whenever I take early morning rides to far off exotic Malawian destinations, like Nkhotakota or Lilongwe, she is always walking me to the bus stop and she waits until I get on the bus safely.

So here's to you, Ging...Thanks for looking out.

Journal Excerpts from June

June 1, 2011

Ama Chimbutu invited me to lunch. When I got there, she told me she had to bathe and took off her shirt exposing her bare chest. She laughed as I looked away, embarrassed, although all day long I see women breast-feeding, sometimes they just leave them hanging out...just in case? Anyway, it's no big thing here, but I think Ama Chimbutu is trying to test me in some way. She pushes me to see how far she can go before I get embarrasses. Her favorite things is to teach me the dirty words in Chitonga and then laugh when I repeat them.

June 6, 2011

I have Clarissa's dog this week. Honestly, I don't want it. Yes, it's cute and sometimes cuddly, but the thing drives me nuts. So far she has defecated in every room of my house. I'm so sick of mopping. My house smells like urine. Clarissa comes back Friday. Just a few more days.

June 7, 2011

The dog chewed up the book I was reading. Then when I tried to go to the hospital, I had to lock her up because she follows. She howled from inside my house for hours. Three hours. My neighbors complained. 

They hate me now.

This dog might not make it to Friday.

June 8, 2011

The dog (which has no name, since Clarissa has trouble finding the love for this dog) dug up my yard. She tore up some flowers and there is a minefield of - ahem - poop in my front yard. This dog might be the spawn of Satan. Yes, I'm sure of it.

June 9, 2011

I was told that I need to travel to Nkhotakota for a Mosquito Net Distribution meeting. I arranged to have the dog stay with Robert (that was so nice of him - he has no idea what's coming) and I cannot wait to drop the dog tomorrow at his house.

June 10, 2011

The dog peed in my bed. She looked me in the eye, smiled, squatted (I screamed) she winked and peed right there.

I dropped her off at Rob's. We went for a swim at the lake and the dog howled at us from the beach, as if we had tied her up and were poking her with hot sticks.

After the swim and lunch, I  couldn't run away fast enough. Good riddance. Maybe Clarissa can just pick up the dog from Rob's on her way back through?

June 11, 2011

Clarissa isn't coming back until Sunday. I told Rob I would take the dog from him, since she is my responsibility. I will do it tomorrow though.

The Mosquito Net meeting was interesting. It started [almost] on time. I woke up at 4 to get there by 8:30 and it started around 9:15. Not bad.

During the meeting, the HSAs at NKK hospital talked about initially having 164,000 nets but after a re-evaluation of the district, they will need 240,000 nets to hand out. They counted and verified that they are short 80,000 nets. Distribution starts in two days. Where are they going to come up with 80,000 nets? And why didn't anyone say anything sooner? And why are they short 80,000 nets to begin with? One man said it could be possible that people have had children since the first count. 80,000 new babies in a matter of a few months? I don't think so.

June 12, 2011

I picked up the dog from Rob's. He told me she ran away for 45 minutes but because she doesn't have a name, he didn't know how to look for her. She ran away?! For 45 minutes?! I wish I could be so lucky.

June 13, 2011

Clarissa comes home today. I can't wait for her to pick up this dog. Consequently, as a going away gift to me, the dog threw up in my bed. It's taking every ounce of energy I have to not strangle this pup. I don't even think PETA would argue with me. Okay, I wouldn't hurt the dog, but I'm trying my best not to cry every second of the day. She's a mess.

Does this make me unfit to be a mother? I can't even care for a puppy. I wasn't sure if I wanted to have a dog while I was here, now I am positive I do not want a dog. Rocks and Chia are the only pets for me.

My neighbor, Ethyl (yes, just like Cherry Creek), taught me how to make mandasi (fried dough) and bake a cake over a fire. We spent the day cooking and baking and dancing around her yard to Celine Dion's My Heart Will Go On. She put it on repeat (just like Terri would) and for a while, everything was okay.

Hurry up and get your dog.

A women's group here wanted to meet with me at 2. They didn't show up until 4. Right on time. I asked if another day or time would be preferrable and they said no, they like meeting on Sundays at 2. They want to get an IGA going - maybe make tortilla chips to sell. I'm all for it, especially during avacado season. Chips and guacamole? Heck yes.

Someone said to me:

You are so beautiful. You must have babies to pass on this beauty.

I said:

No, I don't want babies. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

He responded:

Oh, but you must. Just have one, to pass on your beauty. You can give it to your mother to raise.

Yes, that's exactly what my mom wants.

June 14, 2011

It's starting to get cold. I use a blanket at night.

There's a mouse/rat in my house. I squealed a low, gutteral, painful scream of disgust, fear and anger. Please don't eat my food, little rodent.

June 16, 2011

Today feels like Christmas. Peace Corps dropped off my mail (finally some packages and birthday cards!) and, much like my Christmas at the age of 7, Peace Corps dropped off a new bike. Well, not NEW, but it has two pedals and brakes that work! And after tearing open my letters and tearing up at the funny, sentimental notes, I felt somewhat sad. I miss home. I wanted my sister to be right there next to me telling me about her day, not telling me on lined paper.

I've got a mild case of the homesickness, but only because I have the best family and friends a girl could ask for.

I think the rodent is gone. I haven't seen any damage or "maprizes" but all last night I was paranoid. I kept thinking I heard squeeking, so I kept checking the kitchen and the hallway (4 times throughout the night, at least) with my broom held over my head.

June 17, 2011

Another patient died today. It was a young boy. He was anemic and apparently needed a blood transfusion, but we are just a small rural hospital. The district hospital (with all the fancy equipment) is in Nkhotakota (about 3 hours away), so in case of emergency, we call them to send an ambulance to pick up the patient and drive him/her to the district hospital.

The ambulance did come. It was called at 9am and showed up at 2pm. The patient had passed away by 12. Frustrating, inefficient and heartbreaking.

June 18, 2011

The mouse is still here. I guess I only hoped she had disappeared. She was knocking over bottles and pictures on my dresser. Then she climbed up to the window edge and clawed her way up the burglar bars and squeezed out the cute little hole she chewed through the screen.

I have named her Maverick. It seems fitting. She is super annoying, extremely dumb, but so gosh darn cute. Much like another Maverick I know (circa 2008).

I need to get a cat. Or rat killer. Oh gosh, I’ve never intentionally killed anything in my life. I don’t know about this.

June 19, 2011

 It’s Father’s Day in America. I had to be reminded. Good job, daughter.

June 22, 2011

I’m having trouble being patient. I want to start my garden, but I have to wait until my fence is built before I plant any vegetables. I’ve been waiting for two weeks for this fence and finally the builders showed up today to say they will be here tomorrow. Great. Fine. Just come and build my fence!

June 26, 2011

“When every day is the same as the next, it’s because people fail to recognize the good things that happen in their lives every day that the sun rises.” – The Alchemist

June 27, 2011

I have noticed that the Peace Corps acts as a turn-style…a revolving door that shuffles really awesome people in and out of my life.

BIG NEWS: It only took one match to start a fire today.

Four months ago I was sitting in a bar in Philly with a bunch of strangers. Now they are my friends. Weird.

Chitenge

A chitenge is a piece of colorful cloth that is used for everything. It's about 2 meters long and 1 meter wide (I don't know the dimensions for sure, but this seems about right) and it typically has some repeating design on the material, something very colorful (The chitenges in the North have really great designs, I think).

Uses of a chitenge (this is a not an exhausted list - I was just giving examples of the most common uses. Really, when all else fails, use your chitenge. I never leave my house without one!) :

-Bopping babies or pets (this is where someone ties a baby [or pet, if you are a Peace Corps volunteer] to their back - typically a mother, sometimes an older sibling - and by older, it could be only by a few years. Babies bop babies here)

-Apron (Typically you wear a chitenge around your waist while you are working in your house or yard. It protects your clothes)

-Towel (I did not bring a towel to country, I used my chitenge to dry off)

-Pot holder (I can't lift hot pots off burning coals, like Malawian women can)

-Clothing (you can get your chitenge tailored into just about anything)

-Bag (you can tie a chitenge around anything that you need to carry and then go ahead and hoist it on your head...or, if you're a weirdo, carry it by hand, I guess)

-Parachute (this one has not yet been proven, but it's quite possible)