International

I have now been in Malawi for about three months. My volunteer position here has been as an academic tutor in Dzaleka refugee camp. Within the camp the implementing partner for education is called the Jesuit Refugee Service (JRS).  This organization provides nursery, primary, secondary and university education. I was involved in the university program, which is a new program that started two years ago. In the university program there are two cohorts of students; the first and second years. I tutored the first year students and another volunteer tutored the second years.

The university program is an online correspondence program with various Jesuit universities in the U.S such as Regis University. Upon arriving I quickly noticed the extended periods of time that the students spent on the computers. This is understandable since they must submit their work online, but spending seven hours a day on the computer with hardly any interaction is not a healthy thing for anyone. Slowly I started to organize group discussions with the students, debates, spelling games, lectures and book clubs. Not only did this help them improve their spoken English, it helped them understand the course material better since they were discussing it together and not thinking about it alone and it also allowed them to learn how to help one another out with their work instead of sending an e-mail to their professors asking questions that may only be answered 1 or 2 days later.

My time as an academic tutor has been an unforgettable experience. Although I believe that I have helped the students in many different ways, I have learnt so much from them as well. Getting to know and interacting with people of different nationalities that have incredible life stories to tell, has truly made me feel much stronger in my intercultural communication skills and able to facilitate group discussions with such a wide diversity of people. At times, it was and still is hard to know that the people I was working with have suffered so much and in many cases are still suffering: Whether it is from posttraumatic stress disorder, starvation, illness or family deaths. These are all things in which I felt hopeless in terms of being able to help them. Many of them though explained that even though I could not help them solve their suffering it is just nice for them to have someone to talk to who is not in a similar situation.

Volunteering in a refugee camp has triggered many interests for me. For a long time now I have been interested in the field of education, not knowing specifically what I would do with education. Being here and observing the different programs within JRS, how they are run, how they are coordinated and how they are taught has been a great opportunity. I was able to be part of some of the coordination component of the diploma program and see what some of the many tasks are of coordinating a program of its kind. Although this has increased my passion within the field of education, it has also ignited many other passions. As mentioned in previous blogs, there is an immense food shortage in the camp and the refugees are very hungry. This issue has developed my interest in refugee rights. It is not something I have been able to research while being here but it is something I am going to pursuing once I am back. I had thought I would be able to get some of information about refugee risghts, while being in camp but it proved much harder than I thought. The UNHCR is never available, and many of the refugees are not even aware that they have rights. I want to know if the refugees have a right to receive a minimum amount of food per month or if the current food rations that they do receive can continue to diminish. With hope, the little rations that they currently receive will not continue to go down. If they do, there will be a large increase in the amount of people dying of starvation. Dzaleka is considered a good refugee camp, where the living conditions are luxurious compared to other camps. This really makes me wonder what the food ration situation is in other camp and what the living conditions are like. The whole issue of the food rations and people being hungry has also made me develop an interest in nutrition. I am positive that the refugees would be capable of growing various produce that could provide them with the vitamins and proteins that they need, but instead they grow almost only maiz since for them, culturally this is what they grow. It could be incredibly beneficial for the hungry refugees to be taught how to grow varieties of vegetable such as beans, lettuce, sweet potatoes, garlic, tomatoes, carrots and so on. It would also be necessary for them to be taught how to prepare these vegetables. In some cases in the camp, the refugees do grow the vegetables mentioned above. Instead of using the produce for consumption though, they sell the produce to make a profit and buy maiz and therefore are still lacking in many of the vitamins that they could have gotten from their vegetables. there therefore is great need for one of the implementing organization to take on this role…

Overall I do not believe that this internship has made me feel like I have a clear idea of what I would like to do as a career but it has open so many interest for me that other wise I may have never developed and for this I am so grateful for everything I have learnt and all the interests my internship has developed for me.

Through out the three months of being here I have lived in a little village 10 kilometers away from the refugee camp with a Malawian host family. Coming here and living in a host family was one of the highlights of my internship. Not only was I able to integrate myself in the refugee camp and work with people of all different backgrounds, I was also able to integrate myself into the Malawian culture with a family willing to teach me everything I wanted to know about the culture; from how to carry a bucket on my head to how and make nsima.:)

If I had a few suggestions for the following intern, my first and most important suggestion would be to live with a host family; this will enable you to have the most fulfilling and exciting experience. I would also suggest being ready to be extremely patient. Malawians are kind and very very relaxed people, this means that their patience levels are about 10000 times greater than the average western person is. So although, often events or meetings will start a couple hours late, you must just embrace it and talk to the people around you. Often you will learn a lot from them, and then waiting is not as frustrating. It is also important not to give money or food to any of the refugees. Being a white person in camp, they assume that we have a lot of money and the demands from refugees are very constant. If one person gives money or food to them, this will just heighten the demands, not only is this exhausting for the volunteer, it creates jealousy between the other refugees and presedent for the following volunteers. Since there is 17 000 people in the camp it is impossible to give to everyone and therefore important to just say “no, sorry I cannot give you money, but I can help you with your education if you are interested”.

Malawi is an amazing country with some of the kindest people I have ever met. My internship with the refugees has been great and has allowed me to really understand some of difficulties that refugees face, while also understanding some of the opportunities that refugees have to be resettled, to be repatriated or to be part of the Student Refugee Program which is implemented by World University Service Canada (WUSC).

I am very sad to leave, and it was difficult to say goodbye to the students of which I have made some strong friendships. I am so happy though, and feel extremely fulfilled in so many ways having done this internship!

In communication, within workplace and personal relationships alike, I have come across one method of giving criticism/bad news that I am partial to: it is called the sandwich method. The idea is to try to take a piece of negative information and wrap it up in double portions of positivity so as to make it easier to, erm, digest. I have prepared for you a sandwich of charming and bleak reality, something heartbreaking tucked within something funny and light. Here we go-

In my home in Dowa, I am most fortunate to have access to semi-consistent electricity, a family who lovingly tries to figure out what food we Mzungu like, and… a ceiling. I once had a discussion with a JRS teacher where he asked me if my home had a ceiling, as a means to gage my level of prosperity. For some reason, in my naïve mind, I had confused a ceiling with a roof. Of course I had a ceiling, how else to separate the ‘in’ from the ‘out’side? But no, a ceiling is a privilege. It is an added layer that manages and distances the occupants from the intrusions of the weather. All homes here have (in various shapes and forms) a roof, but I am of the lucky class to also have a ceiling.

As I learned a week ago, this ceiling also allows for a… unique kind of entertainment.

With my ‘chitenge’ cloth spread out on the floor and absurd dance music leaking out of my netbook speakers, I had finished a half-hearted attempt at calisthenics. Eye of the tiger, thrill of the fight. Cleaning off my floor, I had just started to curl up into bed (adjusting my mosquito net for optimal protection) when something furry, brown and devious darted across my floor, behind my “closet” (a broken fridge).

My shrieks elicited support from my house mates, which took the form of calling in the host mother and her half-grandson to my room. Mama Phiri and Maurice were nonplussed, with Maurice seeking out a stick from the garden to deal with my unsolicited visitor. Waiting for Maurice to return, I noted a tile of ceiling that sloped down, allowing an entrance for my freeloading roommate. Closer inspection (watching and listening from a safe distance) indicated with squeaks and tail swishes that there were other visitors waiting in this ceiling tile foyer, eager to join the party….

In other news- The food rations have been cut in half at the camp. It was rumored, disputed, and now, with the start of the month, proven true. People who eat only one meal a day are having that lone meal cut in half. These refugees work against the odds, surviving despite the very limited resources that are devoted to helping them. This little bit is now cut in half. The World Food Program’s budget can no longer accommodate the demands being placed upon them.

It’s unclear why this is. Some people blame the recession, a lack of extra funds back home leading to a decrease in donations and the problems being faced here.

Some people blame the weather. It’s hard to believe that, with the torrential rains I have experienced here, this is considered to be a dry spell. The rains don’t fall, the maize doesn’t grow, and people will starve. There is talk about a potential 10 year rain cycle in Malawi. Back in 2001 there was a famine that devastated the population, just as in 1992 there had been a similar occurrence. I’ve talked about the power of the rains and, now that they are not falling, that power feels like a tightening hold around the throat of the camp.

Some people blame other people. And so the tensions mount. And so the people in the camp wonder if life might yet be better elsewhere, in a different camp if they cannot be resettled. But there is nowhere to go. Not really. And so it goes.

…When Maurice arrived, without ceremony or hesitation, Mama Phiri swung the refrigerator out from the wall. Maurice readied the stick, preparing for a more extreme form of baseball than even that of Japanese game shows. And then, with mangy feet picking up momentum at an unreasonable rate, seeming to have doubled in size, with a contemptuous look in his eyes, he made for the closest representative of the True North (strong and free).

I am one descendent from a line of courageous people, with the Canadian Air Force and the Polish Resistance to inspire me. Additionally, I have had 5 hamsters as pets, doting lovingly upon those rodents with affection I don’t always find for people. And yet, when the time came to have a 6 pound rat scamper towards me, I turned into a cartoon caricature of how women respond to crisis. On top of a chair (where clean clothing had been lying) I leapt, yelping in a way the family pig would have deemed “excessive”.

Gripped suddenly with a certainty that the rat must have the ability to shimmy up the wall, into my shirt, I figured the best subsequent course of action would be to dive off the chair towards to the rest of the gathering, half running and tripping as I went. The rat took that as his cue to exit, darting out under my door and into the night. I think I heard him mutter something about “knowing when [he’s] not welcome. Squeak.”.

Two stories, two problems. The speedy eviction of the bad-mannered, fuzzy tourist solved the first issue. Harsh verbal warnings are now issued nightly to the lingering ceiling residents. They know on which side their trap is buttered.

The second problem is ongoing. Widespread. Indicative only of greater challenges to come. I cannot call Maurice to shoo this much more dire threat away from Dzaleka. I have no blame to assign, but I worry. And hope. As my begrudged roommates linger on, perhaps this means the ship is not sinking. Someone, some group of someones, will decide to help these refugees. Right?

Worry and hope. Maybe pray.

Living in a country where there is no garbage removal system in place has proven the idea to me that we Westerners produce so much waste. Here in Malawi my house mates and I produce about one grocery bag size of garbage a week. Comparing this to my garbage production in Canada, this is quite minimal. Comparing it to my host family though, this minimal amount looks like a massive amount of trash!!!!!! For the average Malawian family the majority of their consumption of food is grown in their field (maize), bought from the neighbor (eggs), bought at the market (tomatoes, cabbage, potatoes) or purchased without the need of a plastic bag or any packaging involved. If they do need a plastic bag to put the veggies in, then this bag goes to a lot of use like for example fixing my toilet that was leaking all over the place. Of course they do produce some garbage, without a waste removal system this garbage goes in a hole in the back yard, where most of it biodegrades and the rest get burned every once and a while. Since being here, the garbage we have generated has almost filled the hole. The family has to burn the content of the hole more often: which for one is not good for the environment, for two is really disturbing on a personal level and for three lets off an awful smell. When doing reading for DVM (Development) courses about environmental sustainability, there is the idea that Western countries produce too much waste and need to cut back. This theory holds true and change must happen if we want to reduce our contribution to climate change. On the other side of the spectrum there is always a complaint about the pollution and waste that third world countries are producing without trying to do anything to reduce it. But then when taking a closer look though, developing countries produce a minimal amount of pollution/waste compared to the west. This being said though, it does not mean that they should not work towards more environmentally sounds practices. The problem is though people do not have the capacity to change the waste and pollution they are creating when survival is their primary focus. Being here has increased my awareness and my devotion to trying to reduce the amount of garbage that I produce. Even thinking about going back home to Canada and entering a grocery store to find everything packaged and wrapped has motivated me, and committed me to try my hardest and change my habits in consumption of packaged food from the grocery store as well as my garbage production.

I’ve always been captivated by the power of the elements. Nature choosing its moment to remind us of our subordinate role to its power. As a Canadian, I am often impressed/dismayed by mountains of snow that seem to magically emerge from the sky. One snowflake at a time, in a dainty flutter, or gangs of flakes, layering everything in white. Perhaps this is why I am less captivated by snow than I am by rain, not having had quite as much experience feeling its wrath.

This is not the case here in Malawi.

Even as I sit now, lightning zigs and zags in the sky, while tidal waves of the blessed African rains run down, beating at the ground. I am here during the rainy season and have been lucky to avoid the problems of the dry season, where the scarcity of water can become a daily issue. It’s hard to imagine what Malawi would look like in this dryness, how it could possibly ever be barren. Right now, everything is in bloom. In the capital city of Lilongwe, all the way over to my tiny Dowa home, the land is lit up by the many hues of green. Grass, “maize” stocks, trees (banana, mango, lime)…all green. Looking at the horizon cut off by many mountains (probably thought of as hills to the less, erm, green observer), these too have profited from the surplus of rain.

We are at the mercy of these rains.

Last week, during a particularly spirited storm, lightning struck the solar panels that lie on the roof of our little building, powering the online diploma program. Out went the lights and off went the computers. There are now ongoing problems with the system, having to rely on a different form of (less reliable) power. When the rains fall, so too do many of the homes in the camp. At home, I am shocked if a drop of water dares fall on me through a roof I expect to be impenetrable. Here, the water blows the whole house down. Without the rains, there can be no growth, no life. However, with the rains, there are new challenges posed for survival. Come rain or shine, there are seemingly unending new challenges for people living in the camp.

In Canada, I am usually excited by the rains. As a child, I would always want to go on walks with my father when it was raining. Properly dressed in gear to repel the water, boots made for puddle jumping, I appreciated the way rain seems to bring us all together. Canadians, for all our politeness and general goodness (patriotism, eh), are individualists. By and large, we keep to ourselves, pretending to be like our beautiful snowflakes: completely unique and separate from each other. Walk down a street or ride our faithful city chariot (OC Transpo) and you will be greeted by numbers of individuals trying to isolate themselves even with company. iPod buds in, Blackberry ready in hand, sunglasses on, we are capable of being completely alone even in the midst of rush hour crowds. I’m a prime example of this, especially on weary mornings.

Nature, specifically the rain, changes that. Suddenly, there is a unifying factor that brings us together. We are all experiencing the same thing at once, albeit in different ways. In these moments, making eye contact of commiseration to your soaked comrades is common place. Neighbours, who might never speak under other circumstances, may be inspired to offer a ride or share an umbrella with those who need it. We are given an excuse to embrace our sense of being a collective, of not being so separate from one another, whether we choose to take it or not.

Africa, according to my academic knowledge, is supposedly composed of mainly collectivist cultures. My books tell me this is true and I am prone to believing good books. However, I need not rely on theory to understand the collectivist nature of the Africans from Malawi and those from all over the continent I meet in the camp. Here, people greet each other. Which seems obvious, but I mean people greet everyone; it is considered inexcusably rude to not acknowledge another person’s presence, asking how they are. When you walk down the street (or up a hill, as I do on my daily commute), everyone asks you “muli bwanji” (how are you?) and expects you to reply in kind. Here, when you are waiting at the side of the road, you cannot expect a properly scheduled official vehicle (a la OC T of home) to come collect you. You can instead rely on someone stopping to offer you a ride, either in their car, minibus, or back of truck. People see you and expect you to see them. Which makes sense.

The students I am working with in the camp are taking a course on intercultural communication, leading to group discussions on identity. The common factor that comes up in this group (composed of mostly students from the DRC, with some from Rwanda and Burundi) is the value of the collective: the value of community and family. When it rains here, my students offer that I stay with them in their homes, lest I risk getting swept away in the currents of water the ground cannot drink up quickly enough. However, when it rains here, I am less captivated by the feeling of human connection than I would be in Canada. This could possibly be because people here do not need a storm to force them to acknowledge each other. These people who have experienced first-hand the ugliest side of humanity, who have every cause to choose to isolate themselves, are the first ones to champion the need for community.

But the rain has ended for today; better disconnect.

After 9 kilometers of walking up and around these windy bends, I have almost made it to the Dzaleka Refugee Camp. On the way there, there are maybe 2-3 cars that pass, the foot traffic though is crazy. There are hundreds of people on their way to work in the field, to get water, to work, to school and even to try and find work for the day in order to receive some income. Unlike in Canada, every person I pass or that passes me greets me or vice versa. It is wonderful and positive way to begin every morning in Malawi.

The Jesuit Refugee Service (JRS) is the implementing partner that delivers education for the entire Refugee Camp.  It has nursery, primary, secondary school as well as a University Diploma program. This organization also has different Track Courses for people who are not able to attend the diploma program but who wish to develop a certain skill can enroll in: Whether it is Wood Working, Community Development, Business Administration, Counseling…The program I am volunteering with is the Diploma program, this program is a pilot project and there therefore are only 2 cohorts of students; first year students which are the ones that I am working with and then second year students which another volunteer is in working with.

The Diploma program is an amazing program allowing Refugees to pursue their education beyond secondary school. This program has been developed as an online learning program with American Jesuit Universities such as Regis University. The students come into the program with little or no knowledge on how to do research on the internet and let alone how to use a computer; they therefore have a lot to learn about studying online. Since it is an online program the students spend a lot of time on the computer. One of my goals being there as an Academic Tutor is to do work shops and lectures to get the students interacting with one another: Sharing ideas, presenting their opinions and having a more hands-on learning experience.

The students have an amazing dedication, motivation to their work and never cease to work their hardest. Not having ever had to write long essays or do long assignment they have a hard time with time management and efficiency. Often they write out their assignments first by hand, they take a few hours to type it up and then re-read it over and over. Some of the lectures that I have been working on with them is in time management and efficiency, with hope that this can further help them with their work.

Attendance is a big problem within the program since a lot of the students have many other responsibilities to carry out in a day:  Such as doing the cooking, getting water from the bore holes, washing their clothes, taking care of their family members and caring for the ill in the family… Luckily the professors in the U.S understand that the students have these other responsibilities, and they therefore are lenient with letting the students hand in their work late when there is a valid reason. Within the camp there are a lot of different diseases that go around. Since it is the rainy seasons there is malaria, people are ill from HIV/AIDS, flues and other problems, the above also contribute to the students being absent whether they are the ones who are sick or it is a family member or a friend that they must take care of.

The hunger that the students face is another big problem. UNHCR provides each family member in the camp with a certain amount of maiz, sugar, beans and salt. Although this feeds a family for most of the month, often they only eat one or two meals a day. At the end of the month this problem amplifed; a lot of my students come in to class for the day not having eaten anything and not knowing whether they will be able to eat dinner that day. This is a really serious problem for the health of the refugees but is also means that a lot of them cannot do their work properly and attending class when you have not eaten in a day makes it really hard for them to keep their focus and concentration.

Working with the refugee students for the last month and half has been a great experience. Seeing them be so willing to learn and grasp every little bit of information that is thrown at them. This is something very different than students going to school in Canada. Students in Canada are always complaining about something; they are not happy with the work load, they do not like their courses or their teacher, they have too many labs… In the Diploma program the students do not have this same attitude. They feel that every course they take is so fascinating and they are willing to do everything they can to get a good grade. The only problem that comes up is that there are not enough books for them to read.  Between 30 students they share a total of 5 books and have approximately 60 pages to read a week. Since English is their second language, 60 pages is a lot for them to read, and often many of them do not end up doing the readings because they just cannot get their hands on a book.

Living in Malawi and getting to work in the refugee camp has been a really positive experience. The Malawians as well as the refuges are extremely kind, hardworking and trust worthy people. There are many times that I ask myself ‘why am I doing this’ but I am always soon reminded by the kindness or loving actions of a person, why this internship is so important and special. The time seems to be flying by and I have even felt like it is going too fast and that I will not have to realize all my objectives-but I will try my best.

It’s hard to try to explain anything about my life in Malawi. I have trouble believing that I’m the one actually living it most days. There is a part of me that remains in denial, cannot believe I am in Africa, as if I’m still in Canada and this has been some elaborate reality television prank. But I’m here, and I’m usually glad for it. I have finally set up home in Dowa, which is about 8km away from the Dzaleka Refugee camp where I work as an academic tutor for the refugees taking part in an online university diploma program. When asked whether Dowa (pronounced with drawn out syllables as dough-uh) is a village or a city, you will get all kinds of answers. A better way to imagine it is to think of it as an area, with mini villages and neighborhoods throughout. The Gloucester of Malawi.

I’ve tried to break down my daily schedule here to give a sense what a day in my life is like.

People are awake and doing things around 4 am, and are taken aback when their desire to talk to me at 5:30-6:00 clashes with my indulgent desire to sleep into 6:30. Oh the idle pleasures of the mzungu (white person). When i do get out of bed, i stumble about, trying to avoid the bugs on my floor, taking the various medications necessary for this exotic adventure, and trying to remember how I got here. Oh, I use a currently unplugged refrigerator as a cupboard. It’s really handy, as otherwise my things get filled with salamanders (true story), although I am trying not to get too attached, as there will likely come a day when my roommates have something they want to keep cold.

Transportation is neither particularly safe nor reliable, so I try to walk to camp every day. According to my roommate Chloe’s pedometer, the walk is over 8km and takes us about an hour and a half, as it is mostly hills and not much pavement. Cute goats though. Along the way, children scream and squeal, overwhelmed at the hilarious sight of the mzungus. Some ask for money, but most are just tickled to get to look at me and my alien self.

Work usually starts around 8:30. The work is not easy, but can be very satisfying. My supervisor has allowed that I have more control over the structure of my day. This is a much more flexible environment than I am used to in Canada and I still am having trouble adjusting. Typically my work involves sitting down with the students individually and going over their assignments/forum posts for their current course (appropriately) Intercultural Communication. I am working the second year university students, so they are very independent and rarely ask for my help. Regardless, I try to gently insert myself in as minimally annoying way as is possible. Jokes are involved (issues with cross-cultural senses of humor decrease daily).

It can sometimes be difficult to establish myself as a figure of semi-authority and respect, so that the students want my help. The refugee students are mostly from the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC or, affectionately, Dr Congo), with a few from Burundi and Rwanda. In the camp there are also refugees from Ethiopia and Somalia, but none who’ve been accepted into the JRS HEM (Jesuit Refugee Service Higher Educations at the Margins) program. Anyways, as the students have told me (both in conversation and in reading their papers on identity), women in Africa typically take a subordinate role to men, so it is different from them to be looking to myself and my female colleagues for advice.

After a casual lunch in our preferred ‘restaurant’ in camp, where the girls eat beans and ‘chapatti’ and I scarf the African version of doughnuts (sometimes called a fritter or mandazi) and chai (to soften the occasionally tough treat), there is a shorter afternoon session. Usually the internet stalls up from its not-so-speedy-but-very-manageable- morning version to a version that is mostly unusable. The students and I are still very lucky to have daily access to this internet, which is powered by an advanced solar power system on top of the building.

I am finished around 4:30 every day. Sometimes I can grab a minibus right home, which is ideal. Other times I wait for over an hour, pacing and worrying about the consequences of being outside after
dark. Rations for the refugees have been delayed a week, so I am surrounded by starving people. Usually I feel pretty safe, but I have had some…tense encounters with some people who view me as a rich person who is deliberately choosing not to help them. I can empathize, despite having no real concept of the kind of desperation that would accompany hunger. This, and other issues of meeting basic human needs within the camp, causes me a great deal of internal conflict. I want to be helping, am trying to help, yet here I am, providing education, while people starve and their homes collapse in the rains. It makes it difficult to feel like I am helping at all. Anyways, I am trying not to be a defeatist. The camp is incredibly developed in comparison with many refugee camps worldwide and most people are glad to have the support of JRS. I cannot curse my metaphorical candle for providing insufficient light, lest I allow darkness to win. Maybe.

Ideally, I am home for no later than 5:30, as it gets dark by about 6:30. We’ve all been strongly advised against being outside after dark meaning, as yet, I do not even know what Malawi looks like after 7. I’ll have some night escapes in the future but, for the time being, I am so exhausted after work I really have no desire to go anywhere. What I look forward to after work is trying to wash the grime off my body (for 2 minutes I am clean and then the cycle restarts). I have limited clothing so am usually caught trying
weigh the benefits of feeling clean and comfortable for the evening against using up all my clothes and having to do more laundry. Other than my ‘delicates’, I am able to have my laundry washed by hand by the niece of the woman I live with for about 2 dollars. Having a non-family member look after my chores feels very strange to me. I become extremely self-conscious of my ‘white privilege’, even when having different people to look after different chores is very common in African Culture. It’s one of a few typical ways for the younger members in a family to earn money (like an allowance). Still…

With an hour and a half before dinner at 7:00, I usually do mini-chores, sit down, and try to decompress. My audio novels on my laptop brought me a considerable amount of pleasure for the first few weeks I was here. However, they have expired from the library, as they only have a 2 week limit. I intend to try a mission to make Ottawa’s public library accommodate me here in Malawi. Mission Not Entirely Improbable.

For dinner, the host family is really trying to accommodate us, even creating what they call “irish potatoes” (mashed) and “spahghett) (spaghetti) to go with our various pieces of goat and cow. There is always a vegetable component (called relish regardless of what vegetable is used), but I have learned this does not sit well with my stomach. There goes my green consumption. I really appreciate the effort, even if my craving for the abundant food selections of home sometimes leaves me in a bittersweet reverie. Being a ‘foodie’ is both a privilege and a curse. Every meal has a starch (usually rice as they know we prefer it to nsima), some protein (meat or eggs), and the greens. The other interns and I usually have a stash of a seasonal fruit in the back for later; I regret that mango season is coming to a close.

After dinner, around 7:30-8:00, I usually speak on the phone (most often mother). It helps me center myself and reconnect to home. Apparently Canada is still cold in my absence. Well, I’ll be…

Somewhere thereafter (8:00-8:30) I try to prepare for the next day. Clothes, bag, snacks. More pills, and then a mad dash into bed. On a good day, there will only have been a minor power outage. On a less
good day, I will have been relying on my flashlight and glowbugs to orient myself. Note to future interns, I scoffed at the suggestions of a head lamp, but it would be really useful. Stay tuned for an upcoming list I will make of all the essential things to pack for Malawi. Anyways, flashlight on, I turn off the lights and go to bed, hoping rain will come during the night and keep the otherwise…chatty? boisterous…dogs quiet, but not enough that I will have to tread an unbearably muddy path the next day.

Being here, I want to be better than I am. I try to be present, but I get caught up, planning the future. Hoping. Wishing. Dreaming. It’s a challenge of self, so hopefully I like what I find out.

I am writing this from Nairobi’s JKAI Airport where I first touched down on African soil some three months ago. It’s incredible to think of the personal and professional changes I’ve undergone as a result of the internship, and how much my education has both hindered and enhanced my experience and understanding thereof.

In my first internship blog, written for World University Service of Canada’s (WUSC) Students Without Borders (SWB) blog site, I was extremely cautious of what in feminist/gender studies is called ‘the white wo/man’s burden’. The concept comes from the colonial belief that it is the “white” or “Western” world’s responsibility to “rescue” the third world, as they are deemed “incapable” of self determination. Specifically I said: “In the course of my engagement with Women’s Studies the issue of “the white wo/man’s burden” was a recurring source of debate and disagreement. As such, I am particularly concerned with how my work within Malawi will be perceived by those that I work for and with, as my intention is not to impose the structures and beliefs of the Western world, but rather to learn from and work with the local strategies and structures for progress. However, I think my hyper-awareness of this issue will allow me to approach every situation with increased sensitivity and an openness that will hopefully be transparent.”

Interestingly, I found myself in a number of situations where I was either explicitly or implicitly expected to be an expert and I can only assume this was based on my ethnicity. In addition, I was often asked to critique Malawian culture from the basis of Western culture, and determine which is “better.” I found myself always prefacing any observations with an explanation that Western culture has many downfalls, is no where near perfect, etc etc etc. In essence, I was trying to highlight the fact that there are things that can be mutually learned, but also apologizing for my advantage having experienced both cultures.

In talking with one (Malawian) colleague in particular who has lived almost equal halves of her life in Malawi and the United States, I came to realize the damage of speaking on behalf of any particular nation, culture, ethnicity, etc. Though my notion of human rights has certainly been influenced by societal and cultural influences, the reality is that these have only sparked an awareness, while my own beliefs and world views have been formulated by my understanding of and reflection on my own humanity. By prefacing any discussion with talk of my culture or society, I set the stage for a discussion of comparison which can be easily dismissed as North vs South whereas a discussion based on our understandings and assumptions of humanity is more organic, more relatable, and therefore more productive. Acknowledging my advantage or privilege, while well intentioned, essentially exacerbated any preexisting distance between us.

So what has this experience taught me? Though there is definitely great benefit to being aware of social structures and applying theories to interpret, analyze, and understand the lived experiences withing different cultures, gender groupings, etc., it is extremely important to also bring it back from the academic to the real world. In truth, my relative privileges still bother me to some extent, but I think the greatest lesson I have learned is that my world view is grounded in my humanity, and when I speak from my experience of humanity rather than my experience of any particular culture, the room for discussion and positive change grows.

In the same blog mentioned earlier, I also identified a desire to learn more about gendered approaches to and effects of HIV / AIDS as well as a desire to contribute to the resource mobilization of my organization (COWLHA). Having now wrapped up all of my projects, I am amazed at the amount of things I was able to accomplish in three months, and how many new skills I have acquired. My major project was to develop a resource mobilization report for COWLHA – an area in which I had no prior experience, but can now confidently and informatively discuss. As a by-product of my internship I also learned internal and external forces and structures within the NGO world, the process of acquiring funding and implementing programmes, and even how programmes translate from paper to the field. Overall, an incredible experience which definitely cannot be learned in the classroom!

I am now in the fifth week of my internship with the Coalition of Women Living with HIV/AIDS (COWLHA). My official position with COWLHA is Resource Mobilization Officer but the internship has allowed me to branch into a couple of other areas as well.

Over the course of the last five weeks I’ve developed a good understanding of what COWLHA does in Malawi as well as a general understanding of how NGOs operate. In short, COWLHA is a grassroots network of women living positively and openly. Over their six year history, COWLHA has instituted several programmes including woman-woman support groups, sustainable livelihood programmes, and advocacy for everything from ARVs to the end of gender based violence.

As a Resource Mobilization Officer, my main tasks have been to come up with a business profile as well as a membership database. In recent years, major project donors have tended to donate on a project to project basis without taking operational costs into effect. As a result, COWLHA now needs to diversify its financial support by turning to the private sector. So, as a resource mobilization officer my first task was to create a business profile in order to market COWLHA as an organization which benefits civil society. This task proved a mutually beneficial activity as the research I performed in compiling the profile gave m e an excellent understanding of COWLHA. The membership database is also essential in resource mobilization as the 15,000 + members have previously been kept track of via lined paper lists that have not been backed up in any way.

In addition to studying political science, I have a keen interest in women’s studies and gender issues, which is what attracted me to the placement at COWLHA in the first place. Thus far, my internship has allowed me to put theories learned in the classroom into practice. One of the most recurring things is the concept of intersectionality, which has featured prominently in modern feminist discussion. The idea is that any one issue is uniquely influenced by a number of others; they intersect with one another. For example, being a woman influences a number of experiences will occur in ones lifetime, but each person is also influenced by other factors such as age, class, race, sexual orientation, etc. That intersect with each other. By its very nature COWLHA deals with the intersection of womanhood and HIV / AIDS, but they also take into account things such as class, age, and ableism when planning and delivering programming and addressing the needs of their membership. It’s great to see the concept of intersectionality in practice and to get a better understanding of how intersectionality plays out in the ‘real world’ context.

One of the more exciting parts of my internship has been being invited to a conference involving various NGOs in Malawi that address issues surrounding HIV and AIDS. The conference was held by the newly created Coalition Of Gender-sensitive HIV and Aids Advocacy in Malawi (COGHAAM). COGHAAM is essentially an overarching body comprised of various organizations that address HIV and AIDS created in order to ensure that programming is not overlapping and to have a stronger voice when advocating and lobbying government. Over four days, I had the opportunity to interact with representatives from other NGOs in the HIV/AIDS sector in order to come up with key issues and objectives for COGHAAM. I think the other members appreciated my input, and I certainly learned a lot from the interaction. As a result of my participation, I have been invited to form the constitution for COGHAAM over the coming week, which I am really looking forward to.

Business aside, life in Malawi has been great! I am finding Malawians very helpful and friendly. My coworkers in particular have been a wealth of cultural knowledge and an awesome support network. Living in a country with such a different culture and such a high poverty rate has been challenging at times and has definitely forced me to evaluate life as I know it in North America, but the experience really has been a privilege and I am extremely grateful to have it.

As I am sure is always the case – time has passed much too quickly and it is hard to believe my internship is half over! Looking forward to what the next six weeks bring!

Cheers!

Before I left for Malawi, I read many blog entries posted by students living in Malawi. I recall a post of one individual who wrote about returning to Canada. She expressed the sentiment that she was struggling with the reality that everything seemed the way she left it, yet she had changed so much during her three month placement. Initially, I had a hard time believing one could genuinely feel this way after only being abroad for three months. However, after returning to Canada, I’ve gained a different perspective on this particular post. Someone once told me that Africa has a way of changing you. I think my perception on many issues concerning development, poverty and western materialism have definitely changed. I have also had the opportunity to learn a great deal more about myself.

It is definitely a strange feeling to have had so many experiences and return to a place that is virtually the same as you left it. Returning to Canada has been very bittersweet. I was very happy to see my friends and family and have a much greater appreciation for many things I have taken for granted in the past such as paved roads, the OC transpo, and Canadian health care. However, there many things I already miss about being in Malawi. Firstly, the friends I made and living in a country where the concept of time is different than North America. Generally, people did not seem to live by the clock but more so by the day. The pace of life seemed slower and much less stressed. It was also very exciting not knowing what would happen on a daily basis and walking to work everyday would allow me to encounter the wonderfully friendly and warm people of Malawi.

            Overall, I had an incredibly fulfilling internship. I re-read a journal entry I wrote at the start of my placement expressing why I decided to volunteer abroad. I have accomplished all my personal goals such as gaining a deeper understanding of international development, travelling around Malawi and even had the opportunity to see parts of Zambia. I was also able to challenge myself in my abilities to deal with new stressful situations and gained a better idea of future career path I can pursue in development work. The only negative thing I can say about the internship was the time limit. I felt the entire experience was about myself insofar as accomplishing my personal goals and monitoring my own learning and development. By the time I became comfortable enough in the country and understood the way things worked, it was already time for me to leave. I felt I could have done much more for the communities and the organizations I was working with. However, on a positive note, I believe this is me just getting my feet wet in terms of living and working abroad. Hopefully next time I will be that much more prepared and contribute more to the cause rather than focus on own personal experiences.

I hope as many students as possible are able to take advantage of this incredible opportunity to travel abroad. I would definitely recommend it to any student interested in international development or simply those that want to discover a new area of the globe and open their minds to different experiences, cultures and ways of living life.