Saturday, October 23, 2010

The Mirror

How frequently do you glance at a mirror? Maybe even stop for some admiring? What's on the other side? Probably a wall. Unless you have some vendetta against your roommate, plowing through the wall just sounds like a bad idea. How many times a day do you stop in front of a glass door and look at the reflection? How many of those times do you think, "If only I could see what is right behind me"? You may say that the easiest way is to simply turn around. But that's a different perspective and a different focal distance than looking in the reflection. Here, mirrors are rare. Even seeing a reflection in the window happens less often because screens, bars, and dirt tend to impede the view. But a walking through a door is easier than a wall. Besides, it's progress in some direction. That has been this week. Progress.

Over the last couple weeks, I have worked mostly on one project, and it helps to show the fluidity (pun definitely intended but you probably don't understand yet) of life. The Malamulo Water Board (water utility) is in charge of watering the whole Malamulo compound and essentially all the housing around it. Water gets pumped all over the place and people complain when it doesn't arrive. However, nobody complains that the water board has no money. The system in place operates something like this.

1) Water meters are read to determine usage
2) Institutions are informed how much each employee owes for water
3) Institutions deduct water bill from employees' paychecks
4.a) Institutions pay water board for employees usage as well as institutional usage
4.b) Institutions pocket money as additional income instead of paying the utility

Step 4 is split because both 4.a and 4.b occur. Because of this problem, the Water Board is implementing a new billing system that bills the person directly. Another problem is that people here move far more frequently. If you aren't in the loop (which I am not), then you can never keep up with who moved to where, when, and how much water they used before they moved. This makes accounting a nightmare. I have spent the majority of the week working on this system. The software was written for American utilities, where the delinquency rate is much lower, as are many other things. This week, work has been more of a puzzle than anything. The good news is that the software is up and running!

Potluck last Sabbath! We officially welcomed the Browns, Elisa's brother Randy and his family Nicole, Nathan, Ryan, and Trevor, with a Mexican theme. Could I have been more thrilled? I believe no. Attendance was over 40 and dessert was outstanding.

And now back to my glass door discussion. Progress. Progress this week was frustratingly slow, the weather grossly humid, the internet's speed made work time-consuming and mostly unproductive (which is why this update is about a week late). Yet in spite of all these things, the week could hardly have been better. It may have felt 15 days long, but those 15 days were all quite meaningful days. I got to do some good reviewing, refreshing, and recalibrating of life. What did I learn? Not very much actually. But I did get to somewhat relive the last few weeks in the course of just a few days. Here is a slideshow that covers about the first month here. The first picture is in Central Malawi, the next 5 are at Mwami Adventist Hospital in Southeast Zambia, and the rest are from here in Southern Malawi.


Just some notes on the pictures. The two kids hugging in one picture are Kaiza and Benson, who are both 3. The other two children present in the slideshow are Andrew, who is 2, and Hudson, who turned 1 just this week. Kaiza and Andrew are Wes and Chrislyn's kids. Benson and Hudson are Ryan and Sharlene's kids. Ryan and Sharlene are the blond couple. Chrislyn has dark hair and I don't believe Wes made an appearance in the show.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Adventist Circles

Loma Linda? Yep. College Place? Uh-huh. Berrien Springs? Of course. Makwasa, Malawi? Oh yes! We may not have the household familiarity, but the problems are still the same. What problems might you ask? First of all, our work ethic is well, uh, typical adventist. Work Sunday through Friday lunch, and take your Sabbath leave 6 hours before it starts. Cliques exist in a form. It's more like a family. If you're a missionary, any other missionary is your family and their house is always open (even when you get sick at 2 AM with some nasty gastro-intestinal infection multiple times, but that's another story). Potlucks abound, including another one this week. As I write this, another family (Elisa's brother and his family) is on their way here, and we want to welcome them. This will be my 4th potluck in 6 weeks! Catholic jokes. They abound even if there aren't any Catholics.

Last night, I spent some time at the guest house where 4 people about my age reside temporarily. One is British/Greek, one is Zambian, one is Brazilian, and one is American. One of the non-Adventists started asking (not just me, but the whole household) about the why questions concerning Adventists and our strange ways. Sadly, the stereotypical "holier than thou" jokes (even though sarcastic in nature) were mixed thoroughly with the serious responses. These jokes would have been completely acceptable in an Adventist circle, but I don't believe they were appropriate because of the slim chance of confusion. I didn't make the jests and I don't even know if any of them were taken the wrong way, but my prayer is that one's enjoyment didn't have any negative implications. Perhaps the topics will come up again soon.

Just a brief update on life otherwise. Funding for Rwanda is still up in the air, as are travel dates, destinations, and projects in the meantime. Dr. Fam left this week for his furlough in Malaysia, after which he will go to Nigeria. He will be missed, but he will do lots of good wherever he is. IT RAINED TODAY!!! This was the first real rain since I got here. It was that "drench you before you know you're wet" hurricane-type rain. About 10 feet before I got to the front door, some lightning struck extremely close. That was loud. Scary part? I was holding a 2-foot long pair of pliers and had a bunch more metal tools in my backpack. Two minutes after I walked in the door, it started hailing. The balls were about the size of pea gravel. Anyway, the Brown's are having dinner at our casa today. Should probably be there.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Chicken scratch

Quick question - who stereotypically has the worst handwriting? Doctors right? Who has the second worst handwriting? I believe it belongs to immigration agents. Today, I went to the immigration office for a visa extension. Traveler visas are free for 30 days. When I entered Malawi, I was processed as a transit rather than a traveler. While also free, a transit visa is only valid for three days. The writing on my passport, while English, could be read as either 3 or 30 days. Basically, the agent informed me I have been an illegal alien in Malawi for three and a half weeks, then had walked straight into the immigration agency and turned myself into the authorities. After lots of arguing and liberal application of the "dumb American" technique, they let me off the hook and extended my visa. Amazingly, they didn't use their half of the "dumb American" technique, a large sum of money to bolster their pockets. They did warn me to not do it again or I would be arrested. I left repeating "zikomo" (thank you).

On the way into Blantyre, Wes and I saw a local whom we knew. He, his name is Kenneth, was hitchhiking/walking to Thyolo (pronounced cheeo-lo although usually slurred to cholo) from Makwasa (where Malamulo is located). It's a distance of about 20 km each direction. The reason? He was headed to the hospital there in an attempt to get medicine for his 5 month old daughter who is ill. He had no money for the minibus (it would have cost less than $2 round trip) and no money for the medicine, which he said he could get for free. Did he ever get some? I don't know but I do hope so. Wes and I even tried to read what his daughter needed. Guess which profession wrote it and how legible it was.

While not everyone did this, many people asked me if I were going to live in a sod hut with a thatched roof here in Africa. I have some disappointing news for you. I live in a house with lots of things that might make you jealous. Today, I have been mentally compiling a list and here are some of them. First of all, brick-paved driveways. Yeah, asphalt exists but rarely on driveways. Bricks are cheaper and labor is also cheap. Speaking of labor, hired help here is affordable. We have a part time gardener Albert and a part time indoor house assistant Yanjinani. They are paid what's expected, but even that is affordable on a missionaries' budget. Some people complain about cold floors but here, any sort of cool is appreciated. Concrete is much cooler than my bed and I'm tempted to sleep on it. Temperature sensitive automatic closing windows. You say such things don't exist? Well they do here! Open your windows before going to sleep. They let the room cool until late in the night when the temperature really starts to drop. The wind picks up and closes the windows for you. Viola! Now your room stays about that temperature. Fruit such as mangos, bananas, papayas, as well as other stuff like avocados grow plentifully and are dirt cheap yet very tasty. The occasional candlelit dinner, a discourtesy of the power company. Canopy beds, with mosquito netting being your canopy (so far I have only used mine once but malaria season is coming). Tea fields are very common around here, are manicured like golf courses, and are at least as green as the courses, even at the end of the dry season. A visible police presence whose primary aim is safety, not budget bolstering by speeding tickets. An Internet connection that is sufficient enough to get done what you need but annoying enough to make sure you don't waste your life away on sites like YouTube or even Facebook during work hours. And so, some of you may think life is rough, in which case you would be absolutely right. But how many of you can honestly say that your life is a walk in the park?

Posted from my iPod

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Construction

The other side of construction is, quite frankly, destruction. Destruction happens by sledgehammers, collisions, hungry dogs, and laziness, just to name a few.

Let's begin with demolition. Here in Malawi, much in the way of construction is by modification of the current set of circumstances with a sizable hammer, the bigger the better. While most Americans half-heartedly apply that mantra, no Malawi would forgo the chance to voice a firm "Amen!" or some similar word. I have probably said this before (and will most likely say it again), but construction need not be preceded by demolition in all cases. Furthermore, constructing correctly now will result in less demolition and construction [insert appropriate length of time ranging from 10 seconds to two score] later. However, incorrect construction is job security for most people. If you build it with the intent of having it break tomorrow, you will get called back tomorrow.

I know I just went to Mt. Mulanje last week, but this Sabbath, the Lutz family, Hayton family, and I piled into Nancy the Land Cruiser (9 people in 8 seats). Last time, we visited on Friday. This, being the weekend, meant everybody, their brother, brother's friend, and brother's friend's uncle were available to peddle their wares. Culture lesson: personal space shrinks from about this big (spread arms to full reach) to this big (put hands in pockets with arms plastered against ribs). Not even the walls of a 3 ton behemoth prevent this. Wes, being adventurous and knowing I have experience with ziplines, decided we needed to hook one up across the pool below the waterfall (see pictures from last week). After climbing up rock faces, using tow straps for webbing (which work well by the way), and doing a host of other things, lunch time came. Lunch was followed by more ratcheting and tightening. We were using the rope Wes had at home, about a 9.8 mm static climbing rope (sometimes used for rescues or other things but never for actual climbing). Static climbing rope is a type of rope that's not very stretchy. In the olden days, not very stretchy meant no stretch whatsoever. Modern "non-stretchy" ropes stretch about 7 or 8% (modern dynamic climbing ropes stretch as much as 30% to break falls slowly instead of breaking the climber's back or neck). 7% doesn't sound like much until you try to compensate for it with no handy tools. After much blood and sweat (sorry, no tears from me but the munchkins made up for my insufficiencies), I was ready (read: not at all hopeful). Shedding shoes and shirt, I began bounding down the rocks waiting for the rope to support me. I made it to the water, but only barely. Thus began and ended the service of said zipline. No signifiant bodily harm done, just some minor cuts and scrapes. Probably not even battle scars. In lieu of the aforementioned failure, I was relegated to cliff jumping. Acceptable? I suppose.

Oh the joy instilled in the heart at the sound of a nice piano. Cristy, one of the doctors here, brought a baby grand piano from the States. Cristy also has a dog named Bella. When Bella was younger and slightly less mentally developed, she decided the wires in the bottom of the piano needed some modification and proceeded to chew the ends off all of the cords. What cords you ask? The cords powering the dehumidifier to ensure the piano never reaches the state of untunability. It has survived one wet season fairly well, but who would want to chance another? Side note: outlets here are strange. While they have three prongs, European plugs don't work. American don't work. Not even the international plugs work. One would think all the Americans would have spare USA plugs lying around since they don't work in the outlets. Strangely enough, no. After scavenging for a bit and assigning some things to be available, I had two of the three needed plugs. Some quick wiring stuff and voila, the dehumidifier works, or at least two of the three heaters. Once a third plug is located, the dehumidifier should be back in business. Morals of the story? Dogs, while often friendly, have habits which can be hazardous in a variety of ways. Second part: improvisation and doing what needs to be done. If new heaters had been available, I might never have needed to do this. However, since they weren't available, I did something that would have worried me sick a month ago. Electrical stuff is not my specialty, but it isn't anyone else's either. It's not just me though. Last night, a few of us were sitting around after vespers and even the doctors are doing things they would never have imagined. Lots of American and British medical students who visit say they learn less in a year of medical school than they do in under a month here. Doctors get to treat all kinds of things and surgeons are cutting at the limits of their knowledge. Are they doing these things in any sort of unsafe manner? Absolutely not! They do their research and homework, but specialists don't really exist here and therefore the general doctors specialize in everything.

Elde Paladar, a Philippino working here at the hospital, has been in the process of creating a new lab for the hospital where the students from the college of health science can come to watch and learn. He has been planning, acquiring materials, and supervising the construction. They have been gutting, retiling, installing cabinets and sinks, etc. Sadly, the laborers try to cut corners at all possible junctions. There are, on occasion, alternative ways of doing something and achieving perfectly acceptable results. These would be called perfectly acceptable alternative ways of doing something, not laziness. I know all these corner cutting measures actually cost him more money because the workers then get the pleasure of going back and doing it right.

I should probably take notes on people management from Elde. Very soon, I will likely be the director/supervisor for an entire water system construction project. The question is where. Until the end of this week, the plan was for me to move north to Rwanda in the beginning of November. However, the donors have suddenly decided they want to install a chlorinated storage tank instead of letting us build a water system. The problem is far more basic. The hospital already has a storage tank, but the tank is empty. Adding a storage tank doesn't make water appear. Several other things have happened that have made the next 5 weeks more uncertain than the lottery. Could be interesting. Please keep these projects in your prayers.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

The Road


Mount Mulanje - also known as Mulanje Massif, the highest mountain in Malawi at 3002 meters, also has the tallest open rock face and longest rock-climbing route in Africa


Disclaimer: You all know you can't separate math from me. There will be a bit of it in this.

Yesterday (Friday), a group of us here at Malamulo went on an adventure to Mount Mulanje. The adventure rarely comprises of simply the destination, and this was no exception. We took Cristy and Elisa's car, and oh did I miss Nancy (the Land Cruiser Wes uses, which I took the liberty of naming)! Yet the car was not the problem, but the road. You (and I) would think that potholes would be somewhat randomly distributed right? For an infinite sample size (this is a conservative estimate of the number of potholes), the total for each side of the road should be approximately equal (like flipping a coin). Ergo, the road on your side and the oncoming side should each be smoother than the other about half the time. Taking into account oncoming traffic, one would expect to spend slightly more time on the correct side of the road than on the oncoming side right? Oddly enough, that was not the case. To further confuse statisticians, the trip back was the exact same, occupying the oncoming lane more than our own. Apparently, the grass is always greener...


This shows just a few potholes, most were more severe, more tightly packed, and harder to avoid.

As for the mountain, we didn't actually summit. R&R was the name of the game, and our fearless yet confused leader Bella (Cristy's dog) took us there with some consultation from her master. The climb wasn't treacherous (the footing was in some places) even though the change of elevation was about 300 meters. Within no time, a cascade of water greeted us, at least until we immersed ourselves in it. While not glacial runoff, the brisk temperature suggested that we not stay in too long. With rocks to warm us and part of the river to explore, I had significant trouble breaking out the hammock. And yet, despite my zeal to investigate all that surrounded me, I eventually succumbed to the rest and company of the gang. We swapped stories of lands far away, strange foods, delicious ice cream flavors, and some harrowing adventures of our shorts lives.



The day off yesterday was certainly lovely on all counts. However, the customary Sabbath and Sunday of no work except homework really threw me for a loop. Here it is Sabbath and I feel like I just had one. Complaining? No. Today, we are once again having potluck. This week, we are welcoming the Haytons from the Detroit area. They have committed five years of medical service to the Malamulo Hospital. Ryan Hayton actually lived here about 20 years ago, so I guess a homecoming would more aptly describe it. Estimated attendance? Over 40 missionaries!