Scrivner

Culture shock central.  After being away for 2+ weeks in southern central Africa building a house and sweating from sun-up to sundown, I’m back!  Right now am vegging in front of the TV.  What a novelty!  And Internet?  Like OMG!

I feel like if I had a million years I could never explain everything I’ve seen, and if I could explain it it wouldn’t convey how it was really like but I’ll try:

1.  We came an accident on the highway moments after it happened.  A child was hit by a hummer and was lying in the middle of the road covered with a chicengi (like a sarong or wrap).  The woman who was driving was sobbing in her car while the police were talking with the other two passengers.  It seemed like the whole village was there, standing by the side of the road.  There was a funeral the next day not even 20 feet from were the child died.

2.  Children everywhere, everywhere.  A few children were scared (not having sen a white person before), but most were excited.  “Give me bottle,” or “give me money” was the standard line besides “Unzoonga, uzoonga!!”  which means white person.

3.  Covered in sweat and brick dust as a regular state of being.

4.  Seeing all the women and children carry things on theirs heads from one pen, to purses, to 50 lbs. of flour to 3 foot deep buckets of dishes to wash in the lake.

5.  Eating goat.  Twice.

There is so much more, but jet lag calls. 

Leaving in less than an hour.  Everything is packed, Tootsie Rolls et al.  So happy!  So excited!  So nervous!  And my bag weighs 41 pounds.  Whoa.

See y’all when I get back…somewhere around the 15h-16th.  Take care until then.

Two wee crisis came up over the Malawi trip this weekend and now, by Monday afternoon, both has been cleared. 

1. Hubster’s plane ticket from Calgary to London was cancelled.  It was by the travel agent, but they was some allusion to software not being compatible to Air Canada, yada, yada, yada.  So, we both laid down the deal – we weren’t going to fly apart, we weren’t going to go later than the group.  Fix it, basically.  I really didn’t see why this was any of our problem to begin with.  You break it, you buy it kind of thing.  And today all is fixed and back to normal.  How about that? Hopefully we get to sit somewhere in the same vicinity, if not near someone who doesn’t mind switching.

2.  Never travel with nurses.  Just found out that we need to have Dukoral which is a protection against cholera, but, more importantly, against E-coli.  Hubster was calling, calling, calling the travel clinic last week and then today finally got through to someone.  We need to take it today for it to be effective by the time we get there.  After a small-ish argument with the nurse who insisted that we did not need it, we got in and took our raspberry-flavoured Alka Seltzer.  Yuck!  One more dose next Monday and then I don’t have to worry if the sub guy washed his hands before he makes my sandwich.

Starting to get packed.  Got the journal.  Getting ready.

Last Malawi meeting today.  Found out we need to get some stuff that prevents cholera…even though the travel doctor didn’t insist we get it.  She insisted we buy the malaria pills that cost 5 times as much as the others, but not the cholera pills.  That makes me think they are not very expensive?  Let’s hope.

Also found out that we are part of a rebel faction.  This faction, which contains one baby nurse, one mason, a pastor, and I, are going to make a run for it at the Heathrow Airport.  We are leaving the team leader to fend for himself in the terminal for 10 hours while we go and see the sights of London before getting on two more planes and fulfilling the remaining 18 hours of our 36 hour day of travel to arrive in Malawi.  How fun!

A few more pointers on packing our suitcases, including plastic tying the zippers closed so that the African customs can’t get in, therefore will wave us through easier.  See also putting a large address card inside  the suitcase pocket just in case the luggage tag gets ripped off.  We will also be carrying one extra suitcase apiece filled with solar panels and batteries for the lighting for the houses we are building.  If asked we are to say these bags are ours and, yes, we packed them ourselves.

I’m planning my reading material for the trip there.  Something funny, maybe, not too deep.  Don’t know what that is yet.  The Sudoku Code is definitely on the list, though.

Had a BBQ for the Malawi team last Wednesday and with a Merkin lit. final shortstepping that, there was really no time to think about it. 

Now that I’ve thought about it, I really don’t think a whole lot more than the nothing I thought last week.  We had a speaker that was born in the Middle East and presented a large paper on relating to the Muslim and Islam, and not necessarily on the other side of the world.  It was a very good paper, assuming that this gentleman does other work than papers for people at BBQ’s.  It laid out a history, including timeline, that shows how things past are still having an effect on today’s perceptions.  Although I knew this before, I found it very interesting at how parallel Christianity and the Muslim faith is.  I suppose that lends itself to the old adage, “Familiarity breeds contempt”.

Anyway, I had a really good potato salad with lots of pickles.  I think this is the key to world peace.

I have this great friend B. who supports anything I do or say I might do or dream out loud in his general direction…you get the picture.  Not only is this friend a wonderful supporter, he is incredibly smart BUT he never pushes it on you, he’s just smart.  Not only is this wonderful friend smart, but he’s also very discerning and without debate he can present the big picture so that there seems to be a clearer purpose than all of my vague and general dreaming.

My great, wonderful and smart friend pointed out something about my plan to write in the parking lot that was worrying me, also (although I didn’t tell him).  I don’t want to seem like I’m taking away anything from the 12 people that actually made it into the finals.  As much as I’m disheartened about not getting in, I’m still a huge fan of the show, and I wouldn’t want to ruin it or spoil anything.  It never my purpose to be on television, I just want to write a book.

So hear is the new plan:  I’m going to ask my boss if I can write my 3-Day Novel at my own Chapters store I work at, during the open hours.  Since I live nearby, the travel loss won’t be significant.  I don’t know if I’ll be able to collect donations, but I made up these little index cards called “Write the World!  Send your love letters to Malawi.” that I thought people could write on and I’ll take them with me.

The thing is that the people I work with have been really positive about this whole process for two years running, and Chapters is really like a second home anyway, so why not write there?  Of course, there will have to be ground rules like ‘I’m not there to answer questions about how to open the safe’, or ‘chat with the staff’ but I think it can be a win-win for both sides.

And Juls, I’m sure they have space for one more!  (And I have a guestbed ).

So I’m trying to pole vault something discouraging into something positive…positive than for more than just myself.

Summation:  Last year – got into the 3-Day semi-finals, bombed.  A friend and I thought we would rent a generator, park ourselves at the contest site (in the parking lot) and write anyway.  My Grandfather took ill, I couldn’t get time off work, it was a wash.

This year – got into the 3-Day semi-finals, bombed.  Still think I could write a book even while sleeping in my car so why not promote a cause as well? 

I thinking I’m going to rent a generator and go for it!  The worst they can do is kick me out of the parking lot, and even then, I’m mobile.  I could go anywhere.  But here’s the point:  I’m going to be writing for a cause.

If you’ve been following faithfully, you may or may not know that in late September I’m heading to Malawi, Africa, the world’s 5th poorest country, and one of the top 5 AIDS hot zones to work on constructing staff housing for the people that work at the AIDS hospital.  I’m very excited to go and be of use, since I haven’t even been outside of North America.  One of the most stressful parts about going, though, is raising the funds to get there.  So far I’ve been injected with nearly $1000 worth of vaccinations, not to mention the cost of plane tickets, passports, bottles and bottles of mosquito repellent and sunscreen, ‘proper’ clothing (as it is a Muslim area, no pants for women, no shorter sleeve than a T-shirt, no V-necks), the list, as you can imagine, goes on.  And making $9.10 an hour just doesn’t get one very far.  I could probably save the citizens of Moose Jaw, if they ever wanted saving.

So generator, car, patio umbrella, chair, outline and me writing with a hat out hoping for donations.  What do you think?  Will it fly?  Any suggestions?

This meeting wasn’t a waste of time, but lots of info similar to last meeting.  “Wear conservative clothing, and no pants for the ladies” was the main message.  I’m wondering where to get a sarong right about now.

I’m also pretty nervous about working in the hospital, even for half a day.  The majority of the team are nurses.  I, of course, am not.  When they start talking medicines I just look at my hands and wonder if the brick laying will be any more complicated.  Especially while wearing a skirt.

After having the penny drive dill pickle jar on the staff room table at work out for 2 months, the grand total raised is:  $69.24!!  Wow!  It’s amazing what 2 months of spare change can add up to!

Thank you to all the lovely people I work with for their donations.  These are folks one fly’s eyelash away from minimum wage and still they find the charity in their hearts to give up that vending machine goody and think about banishing worldwide poverty.

This money will be put to good use.  We are trying to raise enough to buy the hospital in Malawi (where we’ll be going in October 2007) another X-Ray machine.  Up until now, the doctor there was working purely with a stethoscope only helping 400 people a month in the world’s most densely populated AIDS infected area. 

And we worry if we can’t find a band-aid for a paper-cut…

The arm is still bruised, but its been a week and there is a horrible red, raised rash.  Not itchy, just ugly.  Put that together with the birthmark on my leg and I look like I’ve been dipped in a vat of hot oil.  (And I don’t even have any delicious breading…)