Red Out Loud

Leaving behind a developing Country

We handed the waiter our credit cards and he looked at us with disappointment. “Our credit card machine is down. Credit card machines have not worked in Lilongwe for 2 weeks.”

The restaurant, Buchanan’s, located just in the heart of City Center was set outside, candle lit, a lagoon surrounding the outdoor seating area. The menu was set with more options than usual and when Joanna and I saw this were relieved. Maybe there is a taste of America here in Lilongwe. It was not that we craved an American style food, no, the food in Malawi is delicious (at least I like it, Joanna does not like the oil), but we just thought, now, this restaurant, this looks efficient. Low and behold, and this is NOT a complaint, the drinks had to be gotten from the restaurant next door, the food we ordered came with fries instead of the baked potatoes we asked for and when the bill arrived, though we had, in fact, checked in advance, our credit cards could not be taken. The table next to us, full of two couples and their children, South African, offered to pay our bill, assuming I am sure that we were under prepared little tourists. The gesture was unbelievable, but we opted to drive to the ATM machine instead and take out cash, yet again. Raphael apologized. His words were, “we are still a developing country.” As if he could apologize for this. As if it was something to apologize for at all. How can you judge a developing country. New Yorkers, I am at great fault for this, walk around with a head held high, all things right at our finger tips, the slightest glitch, the slightest wait, sends a New Yorker reeling. I have learned great patience here, or at least felt very annoyed at times and REMINDED myself to feel great patience!

Eventually, we arrived at the ATM, took out exact change to pay our bill and returned home to finish packing and spend our last night at Area 49.

On the way home and still now I think of what it means to have spent this time living in this developing country. Every country at one time or another has been “developing.” You cannot judge or presume to know more than a developing country. You can help, you can share.

Flashes of the my experiences are ingrained in my mind as I prepare to depart this country. Just as scenes of New York penetrated my mind when I arrived here, spurning a yearning for home, each time I close my eyes now I have a vision of the village, a specific child, mama’s smile, diana’s giggle. I miss it, I miss them. It all resides in these moving pictures that I see with each blink.

How long will it take until these visions subside, lighten, move from behind my eyelids into my heart and then my brain, then an album and a little lock box I pull down from the shelf from time to time. Im not sure that it ever will, like the memories of other life moments that I have. THis feels different. My fear is th that they will forget me, after 6 weeks I have learned so much but much of what I have learned is that 6 weeks is not enough time.

I don’t think I knew just what it meant to be a developing country, when I chose Malawi, from ideas, to people, to education, to technology. This place is shifting, it is a country in transit. I learned that even in the village, where a gentle shield of glass protects a very ancient, sacred and simple way of life, seemingly untouched, even the village wants to learn, to grow, to move forward.

I also saw just how hard it is, like reaching in a bowl of mixed marbles, deep and dense and then trying in that same bowl to arrange the tumbling marbles by color. It feels almost impossible. Along the way you must accept difference, alternate ways of living and figure out how to help without infringing. Never accept defeat.

That is Malawi, this country with difficult sense of time, lack of logical systems, now working credit card machines, unpaved streets, where school is not mandatory or even made a priority for some.

But there are beautiful people here in this country, joy, smiles, innovative ideas who desire more. Whose pride of their country is strong but who know there could be improvements. They are people like Blessings, Raphael, the school teachers and mostly the Benesi family who taught me the true sense of responsibility to community and to being open to new ideas while maintaining tradition, so rich and so vivid.

That is how you grow, one person at a time. I am so curious to see the future of the center, our heartfelt classroom, our children, the teachers, the Benesi family and this country as a whole.

I know that my time in Malawi is not over. It can’t be. We have hardly brushed the surface, and I would like to return. I hope to return. Knowing now what it means to work with a developing country such as this, that it is not molding a people, rather sharing ideas to inspire growth. Consistency is key. It is something I want to keep a part of my life, and plan to as I embark on future endeavors.