Into the Bush

My last night here in Maryland, I came to understand what it is to pack up your life into two impossibly small, unbelievably heavy suitcases in order to take a chance on an unknown place where a new space awaits.

Come Monday, when most people are returning to their regularly scheduled schoolwork, jobs, or otherwise, I will be a shiny new teaching intern in the mountains of Malawi: Dedza, the site of the Malawian College of Forestry. My job in the Peace Corps will necessarily involve teaching, but I will be there to first help improve secondary schools at the grassroots, community level (read: they are not a government priority, yet). I will train in a village-based "cluster," so it will be less like sitting through classes and more like taking the jalopy out for a spin with my brand new PC buds. I can picture it now: "Does anyone know what that road sign back there meant?"

I will be living in a "homestay" for the three months of teacher training, so I'll get an intimate glimpse into - and a chance to be a part of - the Malawian family. Imagine intensive language classes until noon, working in the classroom until dinner, and then coming home to a "mom" or "sister" speaking to you rapidly in a language you're just beginning to grasp. Talk about a brain workout! Throw in pit latrines and bathing under the stars, and you might harken back to summer camp with the soundtrack on mute.

It won't be so bad. I'm actually very excited for the new language - but the intensive immersion training is a new thing for me, so all sorts of scenarios (like the previous one, for example) are playing out in my head. I am not sure what language I'll be learning, even though I have done some work with Chichewa; I could be in a Chitimbuka-dominant area too.

Most everyone wants to know how I'm going to eat vegan in Africa. Well, if I wanted to do that, I'm sure I'd use my resources to find a way. That's not part of the plan, however; I feel that the protest of the Ag industry's careless practices is going to be really irrelevant in a place where a chicken is slaughtered in honor of a guest by the host family, right before being cooked -- and in a place where food production for export is much more important than importing fun things like tangelos from new zealand and bananas from guatemala. I have seeds to plant a garden, but you better believe I'm going to eat what is available for my own health as well as to show respect for my new home culture. Integration is about changing your ways - not demanding others cater to peculiar American preferences.

But you'll hear about all that when it comes to pass! This week of preparations has been wonderful for absorbing so much love from many friends who have taken the time to "see me off." Most of my relatives have given me their blessing, which means a lot; I don't come from a very adventuresome, service-oriented family, so the idea of it still seems a bit left-field to them. But they have come to understand my passion and commitment, and are supporting me as best they can -- and that's all I could have wanted. I feel strongly now that the life I have had here has been very full of good people, and I am sad that I'm leaving it at such a time -- even though my departing caused so many great visits! I choose to interpret these events to mean that there is much to come back to, and that I have many examples of good people to enrich my life in the US.

It's time to switch over to the travel blog, and I'll write there as much as I can. I encourage any and all of you to drop me a letter in the mail, because it only costs 94 cents, and because I'd love to hear from you about the familiar and comforting details of home! Especially election drama.