Red dog's feast!

My mom wrote to tell me the following quick stories about my mutt in St. Louis:

"Your contented dog is asleep in the chair. I prepared chicken thighs for dinner last night: one for me, two for Dad, and Red swiped the three in the kitchen before I could get them in the freezer. They were already in the plastic carton, sitting on the counter! Then, tonight I fixed grandma a plate of rice, broccoli, and a drumstick. I left it on the counter for 10 seconds while I helped grandma to her chair. When I got back to the kitchen, the rice and broccoli were untouched; the chicken had vanished.

Smart, happy dog! Parents still learning..."

IMF, Malawi style

Exchanging my “International Money Funds” in Malawi is an amusing, and frustrating, experience. In Malawi, there are a few generally accepted ways to exchange money.

1) The government artificially holds the official exchange rate at 150 Kwatcha to the dollar – this is what you get at the banks, using your USA ATM, or if you use your credit card. This helps the Malawi government charge us more for everything and save themselves some cash. This is generally enforced by Malawians.

2) The “real” exchange rate on the international market is closer to 170 Kwatcha to the dollar – this is what you get at the Foreign Exchange Offices in Malawi, a semi-legal, heavily reinforced, kiosk-like service of some of the foreign-owned banks. This is also generally provided by Malawians.

3) The black market rate for cash is around 180 Kwatcha to the dollar – this (I hear from others) is what you get when you bring your dollars (only $50 or $100 notes) behind the local grocery store and deal with swarms of men offering you mostly real, but sometimes fake, piles of Kwatcha that they keep in their car trunks or man bags. Usually, people do not get arrested here, but there is an occasional crack-down on foreigners engaging in this activity (which usually ends in some quick transfer of said $50 or $100 to the police versus the black market traders). This service is provided by Nigerians.

4) Some local folks, whose names are quietly passed from expat to expat, will actually take a foreign exchange check and give you a reasonable exchange rate (175 Kwatcha) while they send your check into their account in a land far far away. You meet, you exchange small talk, they take your check, hand you a grocery bag of cash, and they send your check to London in their courier service. This is provided by Indians.

I, of course, would only use the legal option 1.

That said, whatever way you use is a royal pain. Malawi is almost exclusively a cash-oriented economy. The largest bill denomination here is 500 Kwatcha ($3.33 – $2.77). This makes carrying enough money safely, or stuffing enough money in your pants without looking overly bulky, quite difficult. On average, in Kwatcha, to fill a gas tank takes about 10,000; dinner out for 2 is 5,000; grocery bills are about 5,000; housekeeper gets 10,000; gardener gets 12,000; electric bill is 15,000; 2 fire extinguishers about 16,000. I think that I need a larger purse.

Luckily, through a personal reference, I get VIP service at my South African-owned bank. This makes me feel better when I am carrying a load of 300,000.00 kwatcha cash for deposit. I walk in, walk right upstairs to the special service section, and get immediate service from the very helpful bank staff. I also have the world’s largest personal checkbook and an ATM card that only Jon seems able to use (a distinct disadvantage for several reasons). And, they now let Jon cash my personal checks. Is that another “helpful” attribute of my account status?

Our cup(board) runneth over!

A long time ago in a far off land, I sent a shipment of my and Jon's belongings on an adventure by land and sea and land again that would take more than 18 weeks. On Saturday, miracle of miracles, it arrived! Aside from a gigantic hole where a forklift operator punctured the wooden crate (luckily only depositing wood chips into our toiletries box), it looked exactly as it had months ago.

A great team of locals even came out on a Saturday to deliver (yeah, AGS!). They arrived in a truck too large to get into my house (with a load of only my crate), but they brought a pick-up truck to do the driveway runs. Now, Jon is here, his luggage is here, and the shipment is here. I, for one, can breathe a huge sigh of relief.

Funniest part, on Sunday I got an auto email from Suddath/Sentry asking me for an evaluation of my successful move. I can not wait to fill that out! Just guess what I might have to say...

1 for 3!

1) Jon arrived unscathed. 2)His baggage? Taking a mini break in Addis, we presume. 3) The shipment? Well, I'll let the shippers speak for themselves. I quote:

"Am really sorry not being able to deliver you as scheduled this afternoon. As Allan told you on the phone, the company handling your crate in Kanengo has 2 forklifts, a big one and a smaller one. As their big one was down, they decided to use their smaller one which could not lift it.

Therefore as informed by Allan, we could have delivered you in offloading the crates in Kanengo and to bring the boxes loose at your place. But this is not what you paid for. You deserve to be delivered properly. Hopefully, according to them, the big forklift should be fixed tomorrow."


As Jon contemplates living for the next 3 days in the clothes on his back, I hope he records this as a lesson learned: I may be prone to exaggeration, but I can't make all this up!

Jon: You're welcome to Malawi!

On a terrible, horrible, day...and a few silver linings

Today, Laura left. We had a fantastic time doing everything and nothing, which is the recipe for a perfect visit. Of course, shortly before she left, her taxi to the airport canceled. Twice. I guess she could not leave without one final dose of Malawi Madness. Both times, I found a replacement while in meetings and teaching my class. Everyone else answers their cell phones at any given time (and I usually detest it). Today was a great day for double standards. She made it off without another hitch (or she has not returned, so I assume she left). Sprinkled around my house were little love notes from her to brighten my otherwise quieter, sadder house.

Today, Sapato also left. I tried not to cry, but I did use Tomato twice to wipe my nose and eyes. She didn't seem to mind. Sapato left for a wonderful Dutch family with 3 kids, all of whom doted on her when they came to pick her up. I think she will be fine. I am not quite sure how Tomato will do, but I am also not sure that she noticed yet. I, however, am now double sad. Tomato is too, I think. As a foster dog mom, I'll be doing this again and again. Worth it? Time will tell. Zebra (a new puppy to me) arrives on Sunday. Photos to follow.

Today, my washing machine also exploded. I am trying to clean the house, wash sheets, and generally make the place nice. I put in the first of what I thought would be several loads and walked into the back of the house. 15 minutes later: a wading pool! Right in my very own kitchen!!! Now, is there a drain? No. Is there a slant to the kitchen the makes the water collect in the back corner furthest from the door? Yes! 30 minutes with a broom later, the Katrina effect is over. Now, everything is just damp. Lovely.

Today, however, is also the day before Jon arrives. Hallelujah! I am sure he will tell you about his adventures getting here (which I will save for him), but he is definitely getting a trial by fire. He is, however, on his way, and I am overwhelmingly happy. And stressed. And just a tad nervous. Will he love it here? Will he find the jarring, alarming, schizophrenic character of life in Malawi somehow seductive, as I do? Will he love the markets, the mountains, and the kindness of Malawian people like I do? Only time will tell. The clock is ticking: he arrives in about 19 hours, 17 minutes, and 6 seconds. Not that I am counting...

How daily life in Malawi is like a cosine graph

Just a few snippets from my day:

1. After 4 long months, veggie dogs are back at the supermarket. My friend and I each bought about $75 in textured protein and did a great impression of ravenous wolves while digging through the cartons to find the (chickenless)nuggets and (beef-like)shreds! (This is an up in the graph, in case you questioned)

2. I threw out my cardboard refrigerator box this morning. Tonight, I just walked outside to find my night guards sleeping in it. Hmmm. (down again)

3. Then, my trip to Pemba - a resort town on the Mozambican coast - was confirmed. So, I will be headed off to practice my Portuguese and play with some academics about HIV research. Maybe not to you, but almost like heaven to me! (up up up!)

4. I very excitedly bought mosquito nets today. I even sent a driver out towards the airport to purchase them - in size large - and bring them back so I could have them tonight. I ripped open the package and tried them on the bed...too small. Sigh. (grr. down)

5. But, just 4 more days until Jon arrives!!!! (the biggest up of all!!! (and, yes, I know they are all equal))

On conquering, and getting conquered by, Malawi’s Road Traffic Administration

Last week, with Laura in tow, I set off to battle the Malawi equivalent of the DMV to get my local driver’s license. It is illegal to drive here on a USA license past 30 days, but no one ever notices, and short termers (or most people) never get a local license. However, because I own a car (actually 2) and registered them, I need to be more legit. We arrived at 7:30am, sharp, to find out that the office opened at 8am (of course). Still, without waiting long, the official in charge took my USA license, asked me what type of Malawi license I wanted (2 or 5 year). I replied, "a 2 year license please. And so he issued (and charged me) for a for 5 year license. Fine. Then, I went to get fingerprinted and was told by the machine that I had “bad quality fingers”; still, I somehow managed to get a photo taken that will not embarrass me. After paying $40, voila: Temporary license issued! Bad news: they mistakenly wrote it with the same issue and expiration date. Grrr. I would never have noticed, but at the 5^th police checkpoint-for-white-women-only 2 weekends ago, one of the officers did notice. Somehow, I managed to smile sweetly (and sweat secretly) enough to get out of it. He must have had his fill of bribes that day.

Over this last weekend, when most of the white-women-only checkpoints were hunting someone else, I did manage to get my first speeding ticket for going 55km in a 50km speedtrap – 2.3 miles over the speed limit and about 10 feet from the end-slow-speed sign conveniently hidden behind a shrub (a maybe a policeman holding the shrub...) . I handed over my USA license and the fee; I also bitterly noted to the officer that I was likely the only person going 2mph over the speed limit in the entire country with my hands glued to 10 and 2! He replied by giving me a flimsy receipt and likely preparing for the festival of a lifetime based on the number of other white people pulled over paying similar "fines". I had no idea so many expats lives in Malawi, but they could do a census next to the speeding traps. Bah humbug. Thanks, Laura, for paying half and helping me not lose it! The rest of the weekend driving was equally perilous: windy roads, crowded market highways, and men painting the lines on the narrow highways BY HAND and with what appeared to be a paintbrush better suited for paint-by-number. Still, we survived.

And, today, just one week after the issue of my temporary (and expired license), I got my real license! It has my name spelled correctly (a minor miracle) and is actually good all over sub-Saharan Africa for 5 years. Hallelujah! Next adventure: registering Jon’s car…(and Jon’s arrival in just 10 days!!!!!)

On dining with important people

On Thursday night, I was invited to an old friend's house for dinner. Actually, Peter and his wife, Chris, are old friends of my parents. Laura came with me, and the 3 of us had a lovely dinner of traditional Malawian food peppered by engaging conversation about St. Louis, sports, HIV, and Malawi politics. This would not be much to blog about, but Peter plays a fairly important role in Malawi politics. In fact, the night we had dinner, he told us there would be very exciting news in the paper the following day, and indeed there was: Peter is likely to be elected as the next President of Malawi when his brother, Bingu, completes his term in 2014. Here's to having friends in high places (especially ones who can get you out of jail or out of the country if things were ever to take a turn for the worse...)!