Under the Milky Way

As thrilling and adventurous as my life may seem from the outside, sometimes it’s just downright hard. This past week tested and tried me—It was probably one of the most difficult of my service. Yet I still can’t seem to figure out why… Transitions are always difficult; change often goes against human nature. We get comfortable in a lifestyle, and we can become resistant to change. I have become as comfortable as I can possibly be in the village—as someone who grew up with so many luxuries, it will always be challenging in times of discomfort to not crave things like a comfy couch, a hug from a friend, a good movie, a glass of wine, being able to call a friend without worrying about a dwindling phone battery and network issues, etc. But anyway, back to the point, transitions. I’ve now gone through the COS (Close of Service) conference for my two year Peace Corps experience and am looking to the future. Correction , I’m anxious and stressed about the future. As much as I want to c...

Over the past few months, I worked with our local secondary school to do a fun, arts project. Having wanted to start an art club at the school for the past year, I've been too busy to really commit to the project. Also, it doesn't exactly fit into the health framework that I'm supposed to be basing my projects on. Despite this, I worked together with the head teacher and artistically-inclined students to do a 4m x 2m World Map mural! We started in December although here in Malawi, that's not ideal timing. Afternoon rains forced us to stop multiple times, but we rescheduled and continued working. First, we used small rulers and triangles to make a grid of 6cm x 6cm squares--28 rows x 56 rows of them, so 1,568 squares in total. This took much longer than expected to get them straight and perfect. Then the rain came. The next session, we worked on drawing each continent and country using this grid. The group, which comprised of almost all boys except for one ...

I remember when I was a kid and I used to read this book called Thunder Cake. It was one of my favorite books about a young girl and her grandma watching a storm come in on a farm. The grandma would count the number of seconds between the lightning and thunder as she ran around putting animals in their pens, preparing for the rain, and gathering materials to bake a "thunder cake." Maybe it was this book that made me obsessed with sitting outside and anticipating a big rain. Since it's officially rainy season here, a big rain comes every few days, usually in the afternoon. And to me, there is absolutely nothing better than sitting, watching, listening, and waiting for those storms to roll in over the hills that surround our village.  The day usually begins with an unbearable, humid heat that makes you sweat uncontrollably and feel absolutely miserable. Then, just when it reaches a point when you don't think you can take it anymore and you resort to just s...

Y'all. I can't even begin to explain the high I'm on right now, but I'll try.  For the past 5-6 weeks,  our SOLID team and I have been preparing for a community-wide HIV testing and awareness event for World AIDS Day. This is a surprisingly large undertaking, and I'd be lying if I pretended that there were not some points in the past few weeks when I'd regretted having decided to try to put on this event. We called on and met with various groups around our health center's catchment area including HIV support groups, drama groups, students at the secondary school, and community based organizations to prepare the program. My primary counterpart and I may have been the head coordinators, but it was our dedicated SOLID team that really pulled through with the action side of things.  We had our final confirmatory meeting with all the groups on Sunday where we made sure that everyone knew what to expect. I used the money from my INCREDIBLE support system (...

Holiday time.  It can be a difficult time of the year for Peace Corps volunteers who don't go home to spend it with their families. Another thanksgiving away from home and away from my family. Of course I miss the traditions and being together with my fantastic family (especially considering there are new children whom I still have yet to meet). But, on the other hand, spending holidays away from home is a whole different experience and can be pretty interesting too. I enjoy having a completely clean slate-with no traditions to build off of. So we took advantage of this freedom. For a few days this week, I've had some other PCVs visiting my village. It's always nice to have visitors, especially when they're good friends. Yesterday, we were coming from town. When we arrived at the bus stage, we put our bulky backpacks on bicycle taxis to carry up to my house. Then we stopped by the local tea room and had a fabulous breakfast of Mozambican breads, papaya, ...

Orange spots of sunlight gleam between the bluegum trees as I watch the world disappear behind us in the fingerprint-speckled rearview mirror on the mini bus. To our left, Mulanje mountain glows purple as it always does at this time in the evening when the sun sinks below the earth, putting an end to the hot day. A faint, yet almost full moon floats above the mountain, almost in the center of the elongated rock structure.   Along my way from the capital city, I'd seen so many depressing as well as incredible sights that, despite having been here for over 20 months, still touch my heart. Child labor at its finest as kids dig up dry fields to cultivate and struggle to carry buckets of water on their heads. Diminishing forests next to piles and piles of charcoal. Then there are the pristinely wild looking mountains and hillsides and cute lines of chicks waddling along the sides of the roads. I think about how new and shocking this all was when I arrived here; debating whether it...

"I just paid the money," she told me as she twisted her hands and stared down at them. I was immediately flabbergasted and almost shaking with anger, frustration, and sadness.  One of my wonderfully dedicated but extremely timid SOLID members who I began working with last year had been facing trouble at home. Following our graduation from the program in May, she'd been attending meetings less and less. I assumed it was because she lives 2.5 miles away from our meeting place, and that she was probably busy at home. Then one day I ran into her at the health center. She had a large cut on her forehead and was filling a police report. I refrained from snooping in her business.  Then, about 2 weeks ago, she showed up to our weekly training. After we finished, she approached me and apologized for being absent so much. She explained that her husband had been abusive (the gash on her face had been from him) and that she had applied for a separation from him. She didn't ask me...