Wow! It's already 2014.
I spent the entirety of 2013 living in Malawi. It was an amazing time, full of countless experiences, some of which my loyal readers have had the chance to share with me.
This year will be a bit different. Over the course of this year, I will continue my Peace Corps service, I will close our my Peace Corps service, I will travel around Africa and the world on my way home, then I will close this blog/this chapter of my life as I embark on the newest story, whatever that will be.
As most of you know, I have been doing a cultural exchange project where I compile a few seconds of video from every day of a month, but it together, and share it with the world. Well, my overly ambitious goal for this year is to take a clip every day, every month, and put together a year long clips video. I'm sure there will be a lot of cheating and reenactments, but I also feel it will be a valuable tool for people closing their Peace Corps service to see the transition from PCV to RPCV. Plus, in 20 years it will be fun for me to watch.
Wednesday, January 01, 2014
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Mama Zen, At It Again
About a week ago, Zen started lactating, plus she looked like she was about to explode, so I knew the kittens were near. Of course, in order to avoid another Mid-Night Adventure all over my foot, she was banned from cuddling in my bed.
Well, I decided to watch a little TV (on my 2.5" Zune) mid-day (very unusual) and violated one of my own rules (also unusal) allowing her to cuddle in bed with me while I did. Luckily, I can report she did not have a kitten then, but as soon as I removed her from the bed at the end of the episode, she started going crazy. I had an idea what she was complaining about, so I took her to her basket and she immediately rolled up in it and kept quiet. That is, until I attempted to leave the room, when she would follow me and complain till I returned to the room with her basket in it.
About an hour later, the first kitten was born.
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Nope. I left the room, cooked dinner, and before sitting down to dinner, checked on Zen and her kitten, only to discover she decided to pop out two more while I was gone.
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Wow, a cat that has a kitten, takes a nap, then has two more a couple hours later. We knew she was strange, so I guess I shouldn't be that surprised. So, after dinner, we had a photo shoot and then I went to bed.
The next morning, the lighting was much better, so I got pictures of mom with her nice litter of three.
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| Zen with her kittens |
One, Two, Three...Four???
So, I guess Zen decided going through labor in all at once is for rookies, and she did it in three spells.
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| Zen's fourth litter of kitten, second in my house |
Updates:
2 January 2014 - Upon returning from being gone two nights, I found only Baby Merissa and Baby Roni. The other two kittens have disappeared. It is likely that they died and Zen disposed.
21 February 2014 - Zen and I are now fostering another kitten. This one belongs to a Tonga PCV, Colleen, who's cat has recently been injured and is with a real veterinarian in Lilongwe. It's only a couple weeks younger than my kittens and is about the same size, and since Susan is taking this kitten and also transporting a kitten for Lea (who already has one of Fletch's puppies), it will work out logistically. Zen has been a great sport about this and has even been seen cuddling with and nursing the new kitten.
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| Athena (left) quickly found her place in the litter with Baby Roni (right) and Baby Merissa (bottom). |
31 February 2014 - All the kids are gone! The house is once again an 'adult only zone.'
Friday, December 27, 2013
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
"Twas the Night Before Christmas: Peace Corps Malawi Style"
This is a guest post by Cameron Stanley (http://africaam33.tumblr.com) for Christmas. Enjoy!
'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.
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!
'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!
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
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