My African Solo
Lots has happened since my last post. An overly adventurous trip to the lake, getting bit by a dog, reaching a new level of exhaustion, saying goodbye to my two amazing roommates and the guy who saved my life, trying to understand Portugese with a new Brazilian girl, and having my peanut butter stolen. Of course, this list could go on and on... especially considering each of these items is a blog post in itself.
And now begins my African solo.
I said goodbye to some great people and now I'm on my own for the remaining 2 weeks. Before people left, I was not ready to return home and I feared not ever being ready. And as much as I was dreading spending 2 weeks living by myself, I was hoping that these weeks would better prepare me for returning home. Although I get lonely very easily, I'm hoping I'll be able to spend my time reflecting on the past few months and mentally prepare for re-entry into the homeland.
As for work, I've decided to spend as much time as possible with the WatSan guys, which means lots of field days! In the past few weeks, I was more concerned about doing research and writing a paper that would benefit WatSan. But over time I realized that this task could easily be done in the evenings and on the weekends and that my time would be more valuably spent if I invested the remaining few weeks into the relationships I've built here in Malawi. It's been good.
In the field, we've started lining shallow wells which is exciting! And I've been doing lots of water testing.
Last night, when I arrived home from work, my night guard opened the gate for me and he was holding a machete. I had never seen him with a machete before... normally he bikes to the house, sits at the front door all night, we chat for a few minutes when I give him some tea and toast before bed, and that is all. So I asked him what the machete was for and he responded with "it's my weapon, madam". So I teasingly asked "have you ever had to use it before?" to which he responded "yes, madam". The joking then stopped and I was like "really? You've really used it before?". Then I realized he had misunderstood me. I guess I should feel safer, right? My small-framed, soft-spoken, polite night guard atleast has a weapon now.
And now begins my African solo.
I said goodbye to some great people and now I'm on my own for the remaining 2 weeks. Before people left, I was not ready to return home and I feared not ever being ready. And as much as I was dreading spending 2 weeks living by myself, I was hoping that these weeks would better prepare me for returning home. Although I get lonely very easily, I'm hoping I'll be able to spend my time reflecting on the past few months and mentally prepare for re-entry into the homeland.
As for work, I've decided to spend as much time as possible with the WatSan guys, which means lots of field days! In the past few weeks, I was more concerned about doing research and writing a paper that would benefit WatSan. But over time I realized that this task could easily be done in the evenings and on the weekends and that my time would be more valuably spent if I invested the remaining few weeks into the relationships I've built here in Malawi. It's been good.
In the field, we've started lining shallow wells which is exciting! And I've been doing lots of water testing.
Last night, when I arrived home from work, my night guard opened the gate for me and he was holding a machete. I had never seen him with a machete before... normally he bikes to the house, sits at the front door all night, we chat for a few minutes when I give him some tea and toast before bed, and that is all. So I asked him what the machete was for and he responded with "it's my weapon, madam". So I teasingly asked "have you ever had to use it before?" to which he responded "yes, madam". The joking then stopped and I was like "really? You've really used it before?". Then I realized he had misunderstood me. I guess I should feel safer, right? My small-framed, soft-spoken, polite night guard atleast has a weapon now.
Comments