Malawi is beautiful.
The landscape was quieter than expected--everything seemed so still and peaceful. The image that you have of villagers in colorful skirts walking with buckets of water on their heads? It's reality. People walk out of the woodworks, down every street, at all hours of the day and night. The majority of the population are unemployed (86%...yikes!) and spend their days playing soccer, setting up makeshift food stands or simply sitting, enjoying each other's company.
We spent our first day at Flood Malawi,
Flood San Diego's sister church. Flood Malawi is alive--it's vibrant and diverse and such an awesome source of fellowship in Lilongwe. I've been so spoiled by Flood San Diego and having people around me who are truly committed to the challenging and abundant life of the gospel. To see other faith communities flourishing too is an encouragement. To hear the story of how Flood Malawi came to be, the investment that our pastor made in significant places--it makes me proud to call Flood my church and excited to be able to partner with Flood Malawi, even if just for a short term trip. Plus, singing songs in Chichewa was awesome!
I was most excited to go into Kudoko Village. After plenty of meetings and preparation days, I needed to meet the people who this conference was for; I needed to know their names and see their smiles (knowing their stories was much more difficult because of the language barrier), to know that this work was meaningful. It should come as no surprise that I was completely taken by the village children. Even with dirt covering their faces and too-big clothes falling off their shoulders, there was so much hope in their eyes. I fumbled through Chichewa phrases attempting to learn about these beautiful kids:
Muli bwanji? Hello, how are you?
Dzina lanu ndani? What is your name?
Most of the time, I ended up repeating what they had asked me. I would smile and wonder why they used so many consonants and envy the way that words rolled off their tongues, while getting jumbled on mine. I quickly turned to the next person to try again; they'd giggle when we tried new sentences or tried to teach them something in English. To Chimwemwe and Victoria, I'd try to communicate how pretty their eyes were. I'd have them repeat after me: "I have pretty eyes. I have pretty eyes. I have pretty eyes." I'm not 100% sure that they understood, but it was still true--their eyes were so kind and full of the hope of the future. Somebody needed to tell them how beautiful they are, no matter how often they heard it! I was glad that even for one day, it could be me. By the end of the day, we resorted to simply making the silliest noises we could--turns out we don't need a universal language, just sound in general.
It was heartbreaking, though, touring the village, seeing the place where the school should be, where the government promised classrooms but then misused the money, leaving the village with just a foundation. Thousands of kids are missing out on an education, the one thing that promises them a future and allows them to dream. The challenge was knowing the reality of the systems surrounding Kudoko Village. There are so many systems in place to keep change from happening. The conference got the community energized around issues of poverty, education and gender violence, but despite the energy, there is a lack of resources that creates real barriers. They want education, but there's still no classrooms and no teachers. Their kids have a right to food, but there is no food to share. Sometimes it is an issue of individuals needing to change themselves; sometimes it is far more complex--systems larger than this community making certain forms of justice an impossibility. The conference was effective in opening the door to justice, but there is still a long way to go, with many tangible needs still yet to be met.
Our team (Americans and Malawians) with the Village Chiefs
This is where our prayers for Kudoko Village become, in some ways, the best thing that we can offer.
There is little that we can do from our American homes, though we are committed to trying. Our team now feels the burdens of this village and is invested in its future. Our trip became sustainable when the Malawian volunteers stepped in. They are now invested in Kudoko and are prepared to go every Friday to help with tutoring and mentoring and encouraging the community to take positive steps toward change. And we are holding onto the truth that God's extension of justice, the wholeness and restoration that He has in mind, reaches even to a village in the warm heart of Africa.
While the conference was in session, small groups of us would sneak out to pray. We'd walk around the village, stopping at fields to pray for agriculture, stopping in front of homes to pray for families--for parents to dream for their kids, for the resources to build up the village, for peace and security in the homes. As we'd walk, kids were curious, surrounding us, holding our hands, sitting on our laps, singing songs in Chichewa. I was in heaven. I scooped the smallest girl onto my lap as we sang "Mwambamo;" she was covered in dust, wearing nothing more than a little blue slip. Her face had sores on it and there was snot running out of her nose. Her belly was distended in hunger. I just sat there with my hand on her stomach, my fingers held so tightly by hers, wanting to weep. Poverty so close to me, literally in my lap, and there is so little that I can do.
Again, prayer was the best thing that I could offer;
I have to trust that God is good--that He has a deep love for this little girl and that He is fighting on her behalf.
That was the reality of village life. So much joy, so much singing, so much vibrancy, so much energy for change, all in the face of so little. I wish I could say that I was horribly surprised by this reality, but I've seen it before. It's never any easier to see, but at least it's easier to process; less paralyzing and more motivating to action. It became my goal, beyond helping with the conference, to affirm their worth, despite what their poverty says. That goal, with only two weeks in the country and a language barrier and a lack of foundational relationship, was a bit difficult to reach, but it was my goal nonetheless. It was probably the most important thing that we could attempt as a team and will be one of the most important things that the Malawian students will continue to do. Affirming their worth, their dignity, their value in the eyes of God and in the eyes of the law, as men, women and children, as leaders and mothers and students with potential and dreams worth fighting for--that will be what brings transformation. That will inspire action and we will be able to see the change that we are hoping for.
So what now?
I'm excited to say that my trip to Malawi was really encouraging in terms of the work that I'll be doing now. Because I've put off my move to Boston (
yes, I've put off my move to Boston) and will be staying in San Diego indefinitely, I'm excited to get to work. I'll be working with
AmeriCorps at a local junior high, coordinating a mentoring/intervention program for at-risk youth. I'll have about 30 students as my own and will be responsible for a whole host of activities and lessons as part of the program. I'm most excited to build relationships with the kids, to dream with and for them, and to encourage education as the force that will allow them to fulfill those dreams. I start in August and will carry the lessons from Kudoko Village into my classroom and beyond!
And yes, I got my giraffe :)
