'Twas the Night Before Christmas: Peace Corps Malawi Style
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the boma,
All the crazies and drunkards fell into a Chibuku-induced coma.
The volunteers were all nestled on their Flexafoam beds,
While visions from Mefloquine danced in their heads.
The amayis in their chitenjes, and I in my net,
Had laid down to sleep in a lake full of sweat.
When out on the munda there arose such a clatter,
I threw on my headlamp to see what was the matter.
Away past the chim I flew like a flash,
And stopped for a moment to pick at my rash.
I came to an iwe who yelled, “GIVE ME MONEY!”
But what was that noise? Chifukwa? Chiyani!?
And soon I came upon those jingling notes,
Of a bike taxi’s bell, pulled by eight little goats.
What I saw was a sight too absurd to dismiss,
For peddling through the moonlight was Abambo Christmas.
More rapid than fish-eagles, his coursers they came,
And he “HSTTT-ed” and “ASAY’d” and called them by name:
“Now Chimwemwe!
Now Gift!
Now Chimwemwe!
Now Chimwemwe!
On Chikondi!
On Mphatso!
On Fanny!
On Chimwemwe!
To the top of the borehole! To the top of the wall!
Tiyeni! Tiyeni! Dash away all!”As swift as conductors to azungus at the depot,
As determined as they are to squeeze in five more people,
So up past the tuck shop the coursers they trotted,
With a bike full of masweeties and mangoes that had rotted.
And out in the shadows, I heard on the street,
The Satanic warcry of an African goat bleat.
Their rider dressed in hand-me-downs of past football teams,
And I could not tell the last time his feet had been clean.
With a belt clip of satchets slung over his back,
He looked just like Rambo going in for attack.
His eyes, how they sparkled, though yellow in hue,
His brow, beaded with sweat like the early morning dew.
His jawline was rigid, his frame like a giraffe,
But his nsima belly shook every time that he laughed.
His teeth were crooked, but his smile was true,
And his beard as scraggly as Shaggy’s from Scooby Doo.
He dismounted his bike and looked at me funny,
I could swear he was humming P-Squares’ “Chop My Money.”
I could swear he was humming P-Squares’ “Chop My Money.”
With a wink of an eye and a twist of his head,
His hair smacked my face and I tasted a dread.
He stopped at the chief’s house and dumped out his stuff,
Lit a cigarette with a match and said, “Good enough.”
He sprang to his bike, and to his herd gave a whistle, but all of the goats were off grazing on thistle.
Ten minutes later he had assembled his team,
Probably the best Santa I’ve ever seen.
I heard him exclaim ‘ere we all waved tiwo,
“HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL: AZUNGU BO!”
NOTES:
Boma = the major shopping/market center of a district in Malawi
Chibuku = the cheap Malawian drink of choice, tastes like chunky boozy egg nog
Mefloquine = malaria meds that give you dreams that are cray cray
Amayi = Chichewa for mother
Chitenje = cloths worn as skirts, headpieces, baby slings, bags, etc. etc.
Lake full of sweat = HOT SEASON YO!
Munda = garden
Headlamp = a PCV’s best friend
Chim = pit latrine, we poop in holes
Iwe = nickname for a Malawian child, translates as “YOU!”, “give me money” is one of their favorite English phrases
Chifukwa? Chiyani? = what? Why?
Bike taxi = Like a taxi, but a bike. Just how it sounds.
Abambo = father
“HSTTT”, “ASAY” = noises Malawians emit when they are trying to get your attention
Chimwemwe = the first name of 60% of Malawian males (not scientifically proven…yet)
Borehole = well, water source
Tiyeni = let’s go!
Bus depot = minibus conductors flock to azungus, or white people, at the bus depot because they know they can be easily overcharged, they also try to fill their buses to the brim with customers to make more money. An average minibus is the size of a large van and can usually cram in at least 20 people
Nsima = most popular food in Malawi because it makes you feel full even though it doesn’t really have any nutritional value
Chop my money = most popular song in Africa, burning up the charts yo
“Probably…” = the marketing campaign in Malawi for Carlsberg is “Probably the best beer in the world,” so saying that things are probably the best is an inside joke here
AZUNGU BO = another favorite phrase iwes like to yell, which essentially asks “white person, good!????”
Merry Christmas from Africa, everybody!
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