Walking

Walking: that's what I've been doing the past two days.

I walked uphill and downhill. I walked barefoot on smoothly paved roads past manicured lawns, flamboyant trees, a tiny white kid running and chatting with his tiny black friend in Chichewa all alone with no parents in sight, and a number of tall brick walls topped with electrical wiring that protects the foreigners who have chosen these elaborate and expensive homes in this still developing country.



I traipsed around on red dirt paths in my dusty sandals, across wooden bridges with some unhinged slats, stepping over discarded banana peels, skeleton corn cobs and flattened plastic bottles, past homemade signs for fruit stands, tuck shops, more flamboyant trees (my favorite), small homes made of mud or brick or metal scraps, straw walls that would take very little huffing and puffing to blow down, and two tiny Chichewa girls laughing and clapping and singing a little rhyme in English.

This is Malawi--her beauty, her contradictions, her complexities, her roads . . .

Today's walk was with my dear friends of Tiwasunge (Tee-wah-soon-gay). These friends are all HIV+, and they have come together in this community-based organization to care for one another and support each other. These friends are beautiful.

We walked all around Kampala village (the Olivers' neighborhood--they do not live with the other foreigners or "azungus;" they live among Malawians) for home visits, praying with bedridden members of the community and meeting orphaned children whose school fees are paid for by Tiwasunge.

I met Cedric, whose parents both died of HIV. He was fortunate for Tiwasunge to pay his fees through form 4 (secondary school). He applied to university but did not get in. But Lucy says it matters not if he got in or not. "If they don't get into university, we have a problem. If they do get into university, we have a problem," she says. In Malawi, I've met too many young people with dreams and hopes and acceptance letters for their preferred university whose education comes to a screeching halt after form 4 exams. Who will pay for their university fees when they are accepted? For the young people supported by Tiwasunge, Lucy has no answer. The organization just cannot afford the expense. Education is power in Malawi--power over poverty, over disease, power to assist their neighbors, to educate other Africans, to increase the hope on their beautiful continent--and these young people quickly become dis-empowered after secondary school.

I also met a woman who has been bedridden for four months now. We could not mention HIV to her or around her, though that is her diagnosis. She believes she has been bewitched and that she has ways to get rid of it. Which means she's probably not so consistent with her ARV's if she takes them at all when the Tiwasunge friends are not around.

She was lying on a piece of foam placed haphazardly on top of bed springs in a dark, dank room that smelled of mud and smoke and manure. We visited her, prayed with her, gave her fresh bananas. Tiwasunge usually wash their patients, feed them more, take their clothes and wash them, provide medicine. They have used their limited funds wisely on supporting education and food for the orphans, but this means they have not been able to afford all of the materials for home-based care in the last couple of months. The bag I remember them carrying 2 years ago on home visits is now very light. But their spirits and belief in prayer is as strong as ever. And I know they will persevere, that God will provide.

I am tired from all of the walking (literally . . . about to take a nap). But I am also tired from all of the disparity. I am tired of seeing 9-month-old babies who are emaciated and don't look like they've been here a day more than 3 weeks. I am tired of knowing HIV destroys lives daily across the world, especially knowing that it's a disease that people can live with if poverty didn't rear its ugly head.

I am also energized to reorganize Pray With Africa and partner with Tiwasunge. I am energized to see what God will do with Tiwasunge and how I can be a part of their story. I am energized to think more about the way I live and how, without even thinking about it, I contribute to a poverty that kills worldwide.

I am hopeful. God is good. And God is desperately in love with us, God's children. The end of our stories is abundant life, and knowing this gives me hope.

Nyali Mushroom Project

The women of Galilea United Methodist Church here in Blantyre, Malawi, grew tired of not being able to contribute to church finances. So they decided to grow mushrooms.


Well, the decision wasn’t immediate. The women thought that maybe starting a small business would help them to generate some income and become more able to tithe regularly. They also hoped it would help them be able to attend women’s events and meetings that may not be in walking distance. So they considered many business options before finding a man three months ago who said he would show them how to grow mushrooms if they would buy his seeds.

So in Malawi’s hot temperatures, mushrooms thrive in the rainy season but not as much in the heat of today. So with a bit of construction help from the men of the church, the ladies built a small hut that could protect the mushrooms from the sun and heat. They keep the hut wet and cool. It’s really quite amazing.



Then they take maize stalks and chop them into tiny bits to use as fertilizer. They place the maize stalks chips into plastic bags with the mushroom seeds and tie them to wooden sticks that hang in the shed. And, voila! Mushrooms soon pop out of the bags.



Apparently, these mushrooms are delicious (I think we’ll eat the bag I brought back with me tomorrow night at the Oliver house), so they have had no trouble selling them at all. In just three months, the ladies have started a little business and are already talking about growth. Plans are in place to build a second shed, double their mushroom production and maybe learn how to harvest seeds themselves so that they don’t have to keep buying them from the guy who first approached them.

I’m really inspired by their work and loved visiting the Nyali Mushroom Project today (Nyali means “lamp”). These women certainly are radiant and going to do amazing ministry with their proceeds. I’m excited to see it grow . . .

A Beautifully Warmed Heart

I love Malawi.

The sun feels good on my skin.

The foliage is bright with greens and oranges and purples.

The sun sets behind chez Oliver, and I am moved to do nothing but be still and stare.

And, the best of all, the people I've met here are warm and friendly and beautiful.

As my friend Miss Ruby says, it's happy here. Very, very happy here.

It's so happy here that yesterday when I discovered at 9:30 that I was in charge of training at a writing workshop for the Malawi United Methodist publications team that was supposed to start at 10-ish, I pulled on my inner "hakuna matata" and somehow (and by somehow, I mean by the grace of God) pulled together a workshop. While Kara had asked me to be a part of the workshop a while ago, I was assured that I did not need to prepare anything and that I would not be in charge. Something got lost in translation, however. But I loved everyone in it so much and had so much fun, that it lasted until about 5:30 pm! And I was still smiling as I went to bed later. Everyone just warms my heart.

Then I worshiped at Galilea UMC, where I worshiped with the Pray With Africa team back in 2008, today. I hugged Montfort and Steve, whose family hosted me two years ago, and felt like I was returning home. I sang next to Tereza (or "Ma Katumbi," because she is my Malawian mother). I hugged Daniel and Francis, new friends who embraced me wholeheartedly because they met my sister Lanecia in March. Everyone just warms my heart.

We came back to the Olivers' house, and I played cards with Carter Russell and watched a movie with him and Claire Marin. The two of them are joyous, and I've enjoyed a couple of days getting to spend time with them. Jeff made grilled cheese sandwiches, rice and tomato soup, and all five of us enjoyed a nice lunch together. Yummy. So much warmth in my heart . . .

And we ended the evening with Ma Katumbi and Lucy, the founder of the Tiwasunge community of HIV+ persons who care for one another, coming over to feast with us for dinner. I love Tereza so much. And I have never met Lucy because she was not here when we visted Tiwasunge in 2008, but she has felt close to my heart. Her love for Tereza radiates, and I am so grateful for her in Tereza's life and in the lives of so many who are HIV+ here in Blantyre. I'm not sure that she knows what an amazing example she is for people all over the world through her ministry. I was honored and humbled and happy to feast with both of them tonight. And I'm also glad that Lucy could give me a good update on Ma Katumbi, who has been quite sick lately, and I could talk with her about taking her medication. Being with them is beyond heartwarming . . . and I'll spend the morning with them. Lucy explained to me that Tereza's son wanted her to come back home with him for a little while so that he could care for her. He lives many hours away from Blantyre. She would not go, though, because she kept telling him that her daughter Ciona was coming to see her. So she delayed her trip home until next week. Love, love! Love all around . . .

So I will sleep well this evening and look forward to the ways my heart will be warmed all week in Malawi, the warm heart of Africa.

peace.