Language & Adaptation...

Perhaps I'm a bit of a pushover... I don't know. But, it seems like every since I have arrived here, I have been trying my hardest to try and speak like people I am around.

It happens with everyone...

To the Canadians I say "Ehh?" and "Sorry" (vs. Saarrrry in Texan)

To the Brits I say things like "torch" (vs. flashlight) and try really hard to speed up my speaking so I don't sound "too slow".

To the Germans I try to change my voice inflection a little... but, who am I kidding, I probably sound like an elephant to them!

I have managed to convince a good number of people that I am from anywhere except America.

But, through my strivings to be someone else, I find myself longing to just scream things in Texan!

The other day, I slipped up and said the unthinkable...

Y'all.

My friends just kinda looked at me and laughed.

But, I miss my Southeast Texan drawl.

I miss mumbling "Dad gum it!" when my diced tomatoes fall on the floor, or when I don't push down the clutch far enough before I try and shift.

But, I've noticed something...

I seem to be the only one conforming.

I have yet to notice anyone willfully trying to slur every word out to its maximum length in order to sound like they are from Mississippi (sarrryy).

Everyone else just talks like they normally do, and hope that people figure it out.

It is funny, however, how messed up our language really is.

You don't really notice it until you have to try and explain it to someone that is learning...



Meet Jackson.

Jackson makes sure that no one climbs over our wall at night and tries to steal everything I own. More importantly, Jackson is a good friend.

He's trying to improve his English a little, so I got Mom to send him a nice, compact English dictionary. He absolutely loved it! The next night when he came back, he was carrying it along with his Bible as nighttime reading material, and he had made a nice little book cover in order to protect it.

I was visiting with Jackson tonight, and we pretty much just talked about words in the dictionary... not much unlike a standard Thursday night in a college town.

He asked me several words that I figured were pretty standard for me, but I just didn't really know how to explain them. Here I am... a fresh college graduate... unable to explain basic English principles to someone else!

All I gotta say is that I am darn sure glad that I was born speakin' Texan... cuz there ain't no way I'd be able to explain it to no one else.

So... next time you get frustrated with someone that looks at you funny in the checkout line because whatever is coming out of your mouth isn't quite registering upstairs... be patient. Most of the time, we aren't even saying it right to begin with.

"Rain falls... Angry on the tin roof..."

Ahh... the sound of tiny pellets from the sky, falling on the shiny metal affixed above my head.

It's finally Rainy Season.

If you have never had the chance to sit under a tin roof while it is raining, then I don't think you have fully discovered a part of your soul (OK... that's a bit overstated. I don't want you city folk to get upset with me).

Seriously... I think that it would be a great idea to make tin umbrellas. That way, no matter where you are when it starts raining, you can experience the therapeutic melodies of rain and metal. I guess the only issue would be lightening, ehh?

Right now, I feel like I just ate an ice cream cone on a hot summer day that ended up covering more of my body than actually going into my mouth. You know the feeling...

You don't want any part of your body to touch another part because they just stick together. So, you lay in bed in "anatomical position" in order to minimize the amount of sticky surfaces that will be touching each other.

Humidity... UGH!

But, there's something about the sound of those little drops on that tin roof that just make that uncomfortableness float toward the back of your consciousness.

There's something about the rhythmic feel of rain that just lets you know life will go on.

It forces your mind to stop for a second and bathe in the simplicity of the moment.

One of the things that I absolutely love about Malawi is the lack of "noise". I probably shouldn't say "lack of"... there are definitely "noises", but they are noises that I am unfamiliar with.

When I sit in my apartment in the States, I hear the constant hum of the appliances that are turned on. Stop right now and just listen............ I bet you can hear the refrigerator. Depending on how many moderately clean pairs of pants are left in my closet, I may hear the cycles of the washer. Water on... Water off... Spin on... Spin off... Repeat. Then there is the tumble of the dryer that sends the sounds of those loose pennies that you forgot to take out of your pocket, clinging and clanging through the house. The A/C is usually a constant companion when we are alone in a house. If no one is talking to you, the A/C is always there to keep your mind occupied (at least in Texas).

Now... the previous example is someone that is living "simply" and trying not to clog their mind with too much. For the rest of us... there are the conversations that are mumbling back and forth in the background coming from our TV. You probably have some music playing somewhere within a 20 foot radius of your self... and if you are a hip teen, it will probably be playing within a millimeter radius of your ear drum.

We hear the cars drive by, honking at whoever did whatever to them.

And in most cases, you're not just hearing all that stuff from your house, but you're probably hearing it from both of your neighbors as well.

It makes it a little difficult to detect those tiny drops that are repeating a rhythm that is ancient.

One of those things that when you sit and listen, you know that it is the same sound that your great-great-great-grandpa was listening to when he was sipping on coffee during the evening showers on the farm. I'm hearing the same sounds in a village in Malawi as I do when I'm sitting in west Texas, staring at the vast Texas plains.

Rain represents so much here.

People are so dependent on the rain.

If the rains are late, or fail to come all together, it can spell death and starvation for many people.

Unlike what we're familiar with in the States, rains are extremely cyclical and tend to be really precise.

From around May until November, Rain just goes away. The place is abandoned. Gradually, everything begins to dry up. Little by little, things become tense. The ground sucks up the last bit of water... the creeks become parched... dust begins to rise and clog everyone's nose.

Then one magical day in November or so, you hear a rumbling in the distance. Could it really be true? It seems like there are a few days of tease. You hear the thunder, you see the sky light up, but nothing.

Everybody waits in anticipation. When will I be walking down the sidewalk and feel that moisture skim my hair and freak out thinking a bird just pooed on me?

Then, as if God Himself were looking straight down on you at that very moment, the drops begin to fall. One by one. Steady. Pacing. Until a momentum gathers that cannot be halted.

People scurry around like ants after a punk little boy sticks his King Kong foot into their home. For a brief moment, everyone just kinda stops to acknowledge.

I was talking with a Malawian man as we looked into the distance at a dark cloud hovering over a section of land, resembling a giant water pail. You could just see the sheets of rain falling towards the earth. His comment was: "They're being Blessed today."

I feel blessed today...

Rain comes in such a way that it forces you to cease what you were doing and recognize it...

Plans get canceled that previously seemed so important...

People that are working outside, put down their tools and take cover...

We rest.

We wait.

We think.

Just like the parched earth that months of dry weather produces here in Malawi... my soul gets the same way.

All the sudden, I get antsy. I get tired. I get restless. I know there has to be something more. I begin to feel like my life is just out of rhythm. Not in sync with what God intended.

Then the Rain comes...

I find that rhythm all over again.

I remember anew the importance of... resting... waiting... thinking.

The beautiful part of being in Malawi, is the absence of the other "noises". Right now, all I can hear is "pitter-patter", crickets chirping, and my fingers hitting my keyboard. Nothing else!

The great thing is... this is just the beginning! The rainy season will last for the next several months. A wonderful, predictable cycle of water falling from the sky and causing me to recall things of old. Things that I don't choose to think about on a regular basis. The Rhythm of life.

So... I look forward to what God is going to teach me over the next few months.

I say "Boooo" to the man that wrote the song: "Rain, rain go away... Come again some other day." That song is just lame anyway...

Apparently he never set foot in Africa...


**50 Malawian Kwacha goes to the person that can tell me what song I got the title of this post from**

A Glimpse of Hope...

This is the infamous paper that can change your life forever. One simple word, stamped in blood red, signifies a long, rough road ahead.

For the last few weeks, I have been working at an AIDS clinic called Partners In Hope (PIH).



PIH was started by a missionary doctor from California, when he began to realize that you cannot practice medicine in any form in Malawi while turning a blind eye to the reality of HIV/AIDS.

While working there, I was exposed to things that I never would have dreamed I would see in my life. It wasn't until this experience that I began to understand the depth of the AIDS Crisis a little better.

While sitting in exam rooms with a doctor, watching patient after patient sit before me, I realized how many people are really infected with HIV. Many people, because of the scale up of Antiretroviral (ARV) Therapy, looked rather healthy. If I were to see them walking around town, I probably wouldn't guess that they were HIV+. However, I saw countless people that did not look so good.

On my first day, a man that was about 30+ years old walked in. He was wearing rather baggy clothes, but he didn't look too horrible. His CD4 count was really low... meaning, he is extremely susceptible to other infections. But, when he lifted up his pants leg, I nearly fell out of my chair. He literally had close to no muscle around the bones on his leg. They were eaten up with Kaposi Sarcoma (a skin cancer caused by AIDS). Then, he lifted up his baggy shirt. The skin on his torso was sucked back under his rib-cage as if he were in a 5 year famine. Because of the lack of resources and ability to take care of himself, it was obvious that he would not be with us much longer.

A few days later, a mother walked into the exam room, carrying her 3 year old daughter, and a slip of paper that looked identical to the one at the top of this post. The little girl was wearing a nice white dress, and she was rather oblivious to what was going on.

Immediately, I just tuned out.

I just stared at this little girl.

I had a million things running through my mind during those few minutes while she was sitting in front of me.

Did she realize that for the rest of her life, she would be on very powerful drugs just to keep from dying?

I wonder how long those drugs will give her? Will she ever become a teenager?

What's going to happen when her friends realize she is HIV+... are they going to stop playing with her?

It was rather difficult for me.

I just sat there staring at her, and began to pray to God that He would watch after her. That He would grant this innocent girl grace.



The reality is... there are thousands of people that are just like this.

They walk for miles to get to a clinic... pick up one of these numbers... and sit in line. Waiting for a drug that will supposedly extend their life.

The great thing is... within the last 2 years, ARVs have been made free for everyone who qualifies to be on them. Before this, prognosis was simply death.

But even still... something is missing. There has to be something more than a pill that we can offer to people that have just been told they have a terminal illness. I know that when I look at a young mother that is holding on to her beautiful daughter, she is not just looking for that magic pill. She desperately wants more.

That's where the Hope factor comes in to play.

I believe it is so vital here in Malawi.

One of the Malawian guys that works at PIH had this sign in his office.



It is so true... In the West, we have very strict definitions of "poverty". To us, it's just a dollar sign. People here don't really see themselves as "impoverished". To them, poverty has little to do with money. But, when you loose hope... you are truly impoverished.

It has been an amazing thing to be working in a clinic that offers more than just a cold, scientific encounter with their patients. They are looking people in the eye and smiling. Letting them know that AIDS does not have to be the end.

The staff at PIH has also blessed and challenged me in many ways.

I see among them the leaders of this country. They are bright... optimistic... and committed to serving their neighbors.

This is one of the Clinical Officers...


I spent the majority of my time hanging out with these guys though...


They train peer educators that go out to the local schools and teach kids about HIV and Christ. They are a great bunch of people!

One day... I was out with the guy to my left. I asked him why he chose to be involved in this field. He went on to tell me about his story...

His uncle died of AIDS several years back. He lived in a rural village that had no clue about the disease. So... his uncle did not receive any treatment for HIV, and it wasn't long before he was gone. He saw what it put his family through. He said that he knew right then that he wanted to educate his fellow countrymen about the disease. He also felt that as a Christian, he needed to be serving those that were suffering around him.

He has such a great heart... and was really challenging towards me!

So... I leave here with a whole new perspective on things. A new understanding of what people are actually going through when they get this slip of paper.

I pray that the things I have seen will stick with me for the rest of my life. I pray that they will motivate me to keep going when things get hard. I pray that they would leave me with no other option than to thank God for every single blessing that He showers on me.

Confessions of a Western Missionary

OK… I admit it…

I write with the assumption that you know exactly what’s going on in my head and around me each day.

I don’t really stop to think that you may not really know me. Only a small handful of the people reading this (who am I kidding… that’s probably all there is anyway) really know the heart behind each word that I write. I assume that you have sat down with me over a long cup of coffee and talked through some of the things that I have been processing through over the last several years.

Things like…

What does faith in Jesus look like?

Why does the majority of the world hate Americans?

Why do I get to choose from 30 varieties of coffee?

Stuff like that.

So… I write. And, it rarely comes across right. Such is life I guess. Such is the internet! I mean… I would much rather magically fly each person that visits my blog to Malawi and have each of you just sit down over a nice cup of tea with me and talk about this stuff. If you could bring some chips and hot sauce and perhaps a grand piano with you as well, that would just about complete my happy place.

OK… time to pinch myself and wake up! That’s not gonna happen!

So… I’ve come to realize that part of being raised in the West (or probably just being “raised” anywhere… although I can only speak from the West) is that you think you have things figured out. I mean, if you are culturally savvy, you recognize other points of view as legit in public settings, but when you lay your head down at night, you mostly just pray that people will change and become like you. Am I right?

I’m guilty… Confession #1.

Confession #2…

I really struggle with not being able to logically figure things out. I see a problem and I know that there has to be a solution. I don’t care too much for trial and error. I would rather work by myself to get it done “right”. Am I alone out here?

Trouble is… that just doesn’t work out here. I’m not too sure who’s bright idea it was for us to take the things that work well for us in the West and try to transfer that to a different culture… But, they must have just been smokin’ crack! You just can’t do that. My Western ideas are rubbish around here. That’s just the simple truth.

Confession #3…

I think that I know Jesus better than the rest of the world. The only reason I was able to type that is because I know that deep down, you probably think the same thing. So, don’t go throwin’ stones at me… I’m just being honest. Because God has blessed me in an unbelievable way with the gift of literacy (which I will never again take for granted)… and I have the resources to be reading 5 different books at the same time, with about 30 more desperately waiting for me to shut the others (which I am currently doing)… I think that, obviously, I know more about God, and can therefore please Him more than… say an illiterate person living in a remote village.

Is it getting hot in here? I’m sweating a little…

If you read my previous post, dealing with issues about discipleship, you can probably see this coming out a bit. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not changing my stance on discipleship. I still think that it is foundational. But, I am beginning to realize that true discipleship is not about throwing your opinions and thoughts on to someone else. It’s about walking on a spiritual journey together with someone else. Both of you, learning along the way.

So what… I can read! Who died and said that was the end all of life. The reality is… half the stuff I read, I don’t even come close to putting into practice in my daily life. If you are honest with yourself… you would have to agree. In the West, we like to pat ourselves on the back for being about to find the book of Habakkuk in under 30 seconds, but we can’t even begin to understand things about the spiritual world like people in Africa can. Just typing that, I know that I already freaked a bunch of people out. Those are the sections of our Bibles that we like to skip over, or water down and make them sound logical. That stuff is just as much a reality, and in my opinion, much more of a necessity, than memorizing John 3:16. Don’t get me wrong… there is a lot of “spiritual” stuff that is straight from Satan… I’m not endorsing that the church should accept that. I’m just saying that I can’t even begin to comprehend the spiritual depths of Biblical things that people around here can.

They also have much to teach us about generosity as well. I’m sure I will write much more about this in the future… but, just read Acts 4:32, and you will get a pretty good picture of what Malawi looks like. I think we struggle more with this one verse in the West than any other verse in the Bible. So much so, that as western missionaries, we do our best to try and get people to stop doing it. It really bothers us that Malawians will just as soon give all of their savings to their cousin who needs to put a new roof on his house, than to put it up for retirement. Who seems to be living more Biblically in this scenario?

In my last post, I wrote about a quote that says: “Christianity in Africa is a mile wide and only and inch deep.”

This quote was obviously written by a Westerner that needs to question their own society. I mean… I guess if you are measuring “Christianity” by the size of your church and the number of people on your worship team, you may have a point. Or maybe you are using the per capita “Bible per household” ratio. Or maybe it’s that Western kids can recite the books of the Bible at incredible speeds… yup, that’s probably the deciding factor.

Sorry… I’m cynical… It’s a sin, I know!

I believe… and I may be completely wrong… that faith and discipleship just look a little bit different here.

We need to be extremely careful when we “disciple” people, that we take off all our cultural clothes. Standing naked, except for the Word of God. There is a lot of stuff that we believe with all our heart to be “Biblical”, but in reality it is simply cultural. That stuff needs to be left at the baggage claim.

I saw a sign in the bathroom of a Christian health clinic the other day that read: “Cleanliness is next to Godliness… Wash your hands and flush!”

I heard that a million times growing up. It’s not a bad idea to wash your hands after being so close to feces… I know that. But, I think that after years of saying that, we have come to think that it is Biblical. It’s not.

If we’re not careful, we will start doing that with other, more serious principles. We will hold on so tight to things we swear to be truth… that we will think that the rest of the world has to be headed to Hell right behind everyone else that we disagree with.

Let Scripture stand alone.

I don’t know… maybe you have already figured all of this out for yourself. Me… I’ve had to learn the hard way on a lot of it.

I just don’t want people to think that I am sitting over here eating mangos with everything figured out. Other than the mango part… that is far from the truth! I get up each day and wrestle through stuff.

But… realizing that I have much to learn from the people that I thought I would be “teaching”, was a step in the right direction for me.

I confess… I’m still on this journey.

Go and Make ______?

Warning: This post is pretty long… make sure that you have a little time to set aside to process through it

A lot of what I have been processing through lately has led me to some interesting conclusions.

Perhaps they aren’t conclusions at all… Maybe they are just more questions.

But, since I’ve been here, I’ve had to come to grips with the fact that there are a ton of people here doing development work. A TON!

Just about every single organization that I have talked with has a different take on development. What works best? What does a Christian development/mission agency look like? How can we make what we’re doing here sustainable after we leave?

Those are all very hard questions, with answers that are rarely black and white.

With all of the organizations and approaches that I have seen over the last few months, I have seen ones that are working great and ones that are doing a really crappy job.

So… I’m trying to figure out what I think about all this. More importantly, what God thinks about this? What does the Bible say regarding missions and development? So… trek with me on this little process of my thoughts.

Jesus gives us two clear commandments: GO and MAKE (Matthew 28:19)

Now… the question becomes… Where are we supposed to go? What are we supposed to make? Those are very important questions to have to right answers to, right?

It seems like we are pretty clear on the GO part of the commandment. We are all pretty sure that Jesus meant for us (the Body of Christ) to go to all nations. It seems like most churches have a pretty good grasp on that. Some are doing much better with it than others, but most Bible-believing churches feel that it is important to at least set aside some money to send people around the world.

However, things start getting really fuzzy when we get to the second part of the commandment. MAKE. What are we commanded to make?

Make money? … No.

Make babies? … No … although not a bad idea!

Make people happy? … No … although widely popular.

Make people not die as fast, and their bellies not stick out so far? … No … although it is a sad tragedy that this is the case in a world full of affluence like we live in.

Make converts to Christianity? … No … although many would disagree with me on that one.

We are commanded to do one thing...

MAKE DISCIPLES.

A disciple is not a convert. A disciple is not just a “Christian” like we have come to understand Christianity today.

A disciple looks a lot like Jesus… not just with their words, but with their entire life.

The reality is… the church has historically done a horrible job of making disciples.

There is a saying that says: “Christianity in Africa is a mile wide, but only an inch deep."

Although, I would have to say that I have met some really amazing followers of Jesus here in Malawi, there are thousands of people that claim to be “Christians”, but know nothing about it. That is of very little fault of their own. I believe that is because the Christianity that we have presented to people places very little value on discipleship. The Disciple-er will be accountable for that one.

OK… So, here is where I want you to follow my thought process. See, the more and more I follow after Jesus and try my hardest to live out His Word, the more I see how much it really is truth. For years, I accepted the Bible as “God’s Word”, but in reality, I really didn’t think it was all that applicable to our culture today. My thoughts always trumped the Bible. My culture always trumped the Bible. But, through experience, I am learning over and over again that as goofy as things in Scripture may seem when you read them, they really are truth… and they really do work!

Back to Malawi…

The reality is, there are problems on so many levels. It’s not just in this country… it’s that way in many developing countries.

There are problems like HIV/AIDS that affect a person and a family at the micro level… but, behind most of the individual problems, you will find a structural problem. These are at the macro level. The government. The cultural norms. Stuff like that.

So, as a missionary that is focusing most of your time on social issues, like helping people with AIDS, or trying to eradicate poverty, you spend your time trying to build things up from the bottom. You work with an individual to empower them, ect.

But, as a foreigner, I’m not allowed to vote. I shouldn’t be making structural changes in a society that is not my own… that needs to come from people within. So, in a way, my hands are tied. Yeah, I can bandage a wound and tell people that Jesus loves them, but I can’t do much that is lasting.

But, if we return to Scripture and heed Jesus’ call to make disciples, a lot of that will be taken care of from within.

A disciple will have a servant’s heart. A disciple will want to fight injustices in their society. A disciple will care for those around them that are suffering. A disciple will fight corruption.

You see where I’m going with this.

Here are the problems that I am seeing…

All of this aid money is flowing into developing countries from the West. However, when it crosses that big ocean, much of it gets filtered through a huge funnel of corruption and selfishness. There are stories all the time of high level officials that are caught using international aid funding for their personal gain. These officials get bigger houses and better cars, and there are still millions that are left starving and dying of preventable diseases in their countries. The problem there is lack of morals. Selfishness. The opposite of Jesus.

Many of the wealthy Malawians that I have met have come from a background of extreme poverty. They have worked their tails off to get out of that position. They have a nice place to live now, and their family is taken care of. But, somewhere in that jump from poverty to comfort, many people have lost their compassion for the poor. I think that many of us would do the exact same thing. Just like in the West, they have had the taste of money, and can't get enough.

I see it a lot even in the churches. Many churches are presenting this half-gospel that tells people that God wants everyone to become rich and “serve no man”. Why should we be surprised that that message is rampant in Africa, when it was born in the West. We have forgotten that the call of Christ is to become lowly. To serve. To sacrifice.

So… here’s my vision.

To see a group of Malawians catch the true heart of Christ.

Don’t get me wrong… there are Malawians that have a greater faith than I can imagine, and are serving their communities in powerful ways.

But, as I sit with a group of youth, who have just finished secondary school and are stepping up to become the new face of Malawi… I just desperately want them to catch the heart of Christ.

I would love to see them take their education… take their talents and gifts… and do things that foreign developmental agencies would never think of doing.

There is so much potential!

So… I think that Jesus was on to something when he just said for us to just “go and makes some disciples”.

Not… go cure all the world’s ills.

Just go and change the way people see the world around them. I mean… that’s basically what the gospel does when it truly penetrates our hearts right? It completely changes the way we think and the way we see.

So… what do you think? I want some thoughts about this. Help me process through this one… Am I being “narrow-minded”? … Where should Christians draw a line?

Seeing Things Through Dusty Eyes...

I first noticed it while I was flying down a bumpy dirt road.

There was dust billowing behind our nice, "safari-style" SUV, so much so that you could barely see anything. But... that's the way it always is.

Now... one of the first things that you learn when you arrive in Malawi, is that roads are only "technically" for cars. There are far more pedestrians walking along the sides of the road than there are actual vehicles.

In the West, when we're driving down a dirt road and see so much as another vehicle, we suddenly slam on the breaks and settle into a mere stroll as we pass the other car. God forbid we expose each other to a bit of dust.

You see... in the West, dust is our enemy. We despise it. At least as far as this white boy is concerned, it better not stay on my skin for very long!

But, as I began to cringe as we stormed past countless people in our SUV, absolutely enveloping them in a cloud of dust that, from my perspective, would surely lead them to an early death from a clogged lung... I noticed something.

No one bats an eye. Or for that matter... no one closes their eyes!

It absolutely baffled me for weeks.

Everyone knows that if you do something like that in America, certain "fingers" would be flying up out of the dust, and certain words would be shouted in the general direction of your car.

But, things are just different here.

Although it took me a little while to figure it out, I'm finally beginning to realize that it seems like dirt is just not at the top of the list of priorities of many people here.

Now... don't misinterpret me. Africans are not just a bunch of dirty heathens, running around eating dirt for dinner. The last thing I want to do is portray that kind of image!

But... for me, it was key to understanding just a little bit more about this culture.

The fact is... in just about every situation, we see things completely different. Our priorities are almost always different.

In the West, we like to be clean. For just about everyone, that's pretty high on the list. We like, not only our bodies to be clean, but we like everything to be clean! Clothes... House (inside and out)... Cars (so everybody will know just how rich we are)... Kids... Pets... Streets... Heck, we even like our drainage ditches to be nice and clean!

You're getting the point right.

Don't get me wrong... I, too, am very particular about being clean! And I'm not saying that it's a bad thing.

But... that's just not the way things are around here. It's not that things couldn't be that way... it's just that people don't really seem to think it's that big of a deal.

I mean... they sweep the trash out of the dirt floors of the houses they live in and all... but at the end of the day, they aren't going to worry about being dirty when they hit the sack... and when I say "sack", I mean that quite literally! In the village, people sleep on no more than a mat that is made from reeds. Cushioning is a mere luxury.

Now... why in the world am I writing about dirt? Am I just trying to make the rest of the world think that Africans are dirty people that are just "primitive"?

Well... I want you to realize that culture is a very powerful thing! And for me... "dirt" was just the beginning of me noticing the differences of how we see things.

There are many things about the way that Malawians see the world that I wish I could ingrain in myself.

Priorities...

For Malawians... People are always priority! It doesn't matter what you were previously doing or are about to start doing... if someone comes over to your house, that plan suddenly doesn't exist anymore. Or it is at the very least, bumped back to a later time. It would just be unheard of for someone to come to you for a visit, and for you to say, "Oh sorry... I was just on my way to the market. You'll have to come back later."

People are always at the top of the list.

Respect is also enormous in this culture!

Everyone knows their place in society, and each person knows exactly how they should relate to others. No one breaks protocol. EVER! You would, under no circumstance, ever refer to an adult by their first name... even if you are an adult as well. Only children are referred to by their first names. That even goes for husband and wife relationships. You call each other Bambo (father or mister) or Mayi (mother or miss). That concept is just so far out of my realm of thought!

The elderly are absolutely revered in Malawi. You would never disrespect an elderly person or question their authority.

Visitors are also given the utmost respect and hospitality. You always bring out your best. Your best seat... your best food... your best time. This was something that was really hard for me at first. As a white visitor, I am placed right up there under God. The whole world stops when I come to visit someone in a village. These people have so very little, yet, they offer me their best. My first reaction is to always want to just reject it and play the lowly foreigner card. I always want to just sit on the ground next to all the ladies rather than in the comfortable chair they have set out for me. It's really hard for me to want to eat the food they prepare for me, when I know that their children aren't going to eat as much because I am there. However, for me to reject their hospitality would be so offensive. Because, they truly mean it. They aren't just going through the motions to save face. They are honored that you are there... always!

Another thing is time. Time is never an issue. Most people don't even know what time it actually is. It's either on the hour or half past the hour. You never get more specific than that. Things are not driven by time, they are driven by events. An event starts when everyone gets there, and it ends when everyone wants to go home. It really doesn't matter how long that takes. That even goes for things like weddings. Now in the West... that's probably one of the most "on time" things that we have. Two minutes before a wedding is supposed to start, the doors close and you better have a seat somewhere! Here... a wedding can be "scheduled" for 3:oo. The bride and groom and preacher probably wont even arrive at the church until 4:00, and the ceremony won't really get underway until around 5:00. No big deal... at the end of the day, they still got married!

Things are just different.

Not bad... just different.

I am reminded of it every time I see people just getting covered in dust without batting an eye, and I brush off my bottom each and every time I get up from sitting on the ground!

Back to Civilization!!

Right now, I'm smiling as big as this guy!

I finally have the internet again!! Today is my birthday, and I couldn't ask for a better present (pretty sad huh?... I'm such an addict!).

For the last 2 weeks, I have been out in a small village, living with an older missionary couple. It was a really amazing time of learning about the culture and people of Malawi, because both of these people have been living in Malawi for all of their lives (60+ years). So, they definitely know the ropes.

I also was able to get away from the busyness of city life and focus in on some simpler things. When all your comforts get taken away from you (i.e. communication with other people), you really begin to see things within yourself. I got to spend a lot of time reading books about the Malawian culture and about the traditional religions of the Chewa people, and it has absolutely blown me away. It's almost too much to comprehend. However, it's really nice to get a grasp on some of these things finally.

Another reason for being in Salima (the village I was at) was to focus intensely on learning the language. I am getting much better at understanding people and actually saying a few things myself. This was becoming a huge frustration for me, so I am really determined to learn as much as I can.

And, while I was there, I was able to check out an orphan ministry that was really an amazing program. It really challenged me and was refreshing to see something that is really working well.

A few of the not so spiritual highlights of the trip were...

Eating goat intestines for the first time! It was right after sitting through nothing less than 5 hours worth of church on Sunday morning in the village. I'm all up for long church services and all... but this one was 100% in another language. And... the night before, I slept on the bed of a truck, under the stars with 2 Malawians that constantly were rolling over on top of me. So... I was just kind of ready to get back to the place where I was staying, take a shower and drink a Fanta.

Then... right after the service, the Abusa (pastor) came up to me and informed me that I would be eating in a "special house" over there with some of the other "important people". I knew exactly what that meant! The insides of the animals (goats, chickens, ect.) are considered a great delicacy around here, and they are only reserved for the honored guests. I was praying that they would not like me that much... but, turns out my skin color gave me away!

So... as we were blessing the food, this is honestly what I did. I just bowed my head and started laughing to myself. I said, "God... you are gonna have to make this taste like a nice filet mignon, some roasted potatoes, and some juicy veggies." And to my surprise, everything tasted quite edible. So... if you're ever offered some goat entrails in the future, go ahead and try some!

The other high point was being able to go to the lake for a Saturday morning. It was quite nice! I wish that a plane ticket wasn't so expensive, because I would definitely like to vacation there more often. It's just like being in the Caribbean except there is no salt! WONDERFUL!

Well... now I am in Lilongwe (the capital of Malawi). I will be here for the next few weeks, working with an AIDS clinic called Partners In Hope. I am really excited about all the things that I will be learning while I am here. I will be staying with a family from New Zealand (the Youngs... you can see their picture by scrolling down a ways)... so, I'm sure my accent will be quite tainted by the time I'm done here. New Zealanders have a crazy wild accent!

There is so much more that I want to write about... but this is a little thrown together in a rush. I will try to get my thoughts together and post some more in the near future.

For now, enjoy some of the pictures that I have taken in the last 2 weeks...