By Kirsten Dobler It is the first official full day at The Campus. Everyone is slowly waking up under the miles and miles of sky (under our beautiful roof of course). I awoke to the quiet bustle of the women that have been hired to clean the hostel. It is surprisingly pleasant to wake up to sweeping. I am currently sitting on the red soil that covers all of the grounds, and filled in my shoes. I am sitting under a small summer hut that has been made for us. It looks a bit like a gazebo. After my walk around The Campus this morning, I began to reflect on our arrival to the new Campus. I did not try very hard after our many days of travel to keep my eyes open on the bus ride to The Campus, but when I did open my eyes I found merchants coming up to the side of the bus selling apples. Many people watched as we drove by and some waved to us with big smiles on their faces. I fell asleep again and I woke up as we were driving onto The Campus. As we drove down the red dirt road, packed into the bus with our suitcases, we could see that there were already people on The Campus awaiting our arrival. As we pulled in near the door, the women began to sing for us. I was tremendously moved by this and held in my emotions as we exited the bus. Coming off of the bus we were showered in hugs and handshakes from the people that we will be working with for the next five weeks. After our initial hellos we began to unpack the bus. A line of women, as well as our students began to take the bags in from the bus; however the women were very persistent on carrying the bags. This was the first moment of uncertainty that I had. I was unsure of the etiquette in this situation. Was I being rude if I did not help, or was I taking a job away that they are being paid? I am still not completely certain, but we found a way for everyone to participate last night and I am sure we will find ways again when they arise. Once we got settled in, we noticed that there were a lot of children standing around with us so we brought out a ball to play with. The boys quickly ran with Marten to the soccer pitch and the girls played by throwing the ball to each other. As we began playing with the girls we decided to try a name game. We shared many laughs as we tried to speak their names and they tried to speak ours. It will be a lot of work to remember the names of everyone, but I am really hoping that I can remember at least a handful. The children only learn to speak English once they start grade three, so only the older children speak English. This lead to a lot of silly following-the-leader happening. I got to dance around and have all of them copy me while laughing at our silly actions. I even got them to do the chicken dance, and they thought it was hilarious. We played until the sun went down and we had to go inside. Before the children left, everyone got hugs and high fives and said many ‘see you tomorrows’. One of the main goals that we discussed before we left for Malawi was bringing this new Campus to life. When we arrived, as we were welcomed onto The Campus with smiles and laughter, it felt alive. Even after the two days of travel to come here, we were all excited to play with the children and take a look around The Campus. Last night felt like the first moment of life that I am sure will continue on in the next five weeks, and hopefully after we leave.
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By Marten Sealy Day three in Malawi, and I am full to the brim with positive emotions; satisfaction and optimism. My fellow Canadian students, all twelve of us, appear to share a sense of fascination in our everyday encounters among the people and places that we will be spending the next five weeks. The children are wildly enthusiastic, our local colleagues are hospitable to say the least, and the panoramic sub-Saharan landscape is serene. I advise anyone who enjoys gazing at the sky to treat themselves and visit this land. The sun sets between 5-6pm, followed by an impressive display of southern hemisphere constellations (the big dipper is upside down). I suppose this is what Pederson (1995) calls the honeymoon phase. I spent the month of May in the university town of Lennoxville, QC. Lennox was peaceful, as much of the loud Bishop’s crowds had retreated home for the summer. This environment allowed for long days of reflection on the life that I’ve led so far, and contemplation on my future endeavors. Better yet, my stream of thought during this time was guided by weekly conference calls with the professors and future participants of this year’s effort with Transformative Praxis: Malawi. These virtual meetings, despite technical hiccups, were informative and contributed greatly to my mental preparation. I’ve put a lot of thought into some of the themes introduced in these meetings… particularly in the final session where we discussed the 5 Stages of Culture Shock (Pederson, 1995): Honeymoon, Disintegration (anger at self), Re-integration (anger at others), Autonomy (overcoming negative feelings), and Interdependence (truly integrating oneself into the host country’s). If we assume a linear progression from 1-5, then the typical gung-ho western humanitarian aid worker is infatuated at first sight. They are destined to go through a period of great stress, self-doubt, and anger as they become accustomed to the cultural differences and harsh underlying realities, but with persistence they have the potential to emerge as an increasingly competent member of the host society. This forms a sort of bell curve, with a treacherous peak splitting the comfort of one valley, with the accomplishment of the other. It’s a useful model, and one that has helped me make sense of my experience so far. It seems to me like a case study of others’ past experiences though, and not necessarily a predictor of what lies in my path. I don’t believe in accepting a fate that doesn’t satisfy one’s own ambitions. I could accept the profoundly character building experience of labouring that sharp mountain if I had been plucked off my couch in Canada, Play Station™ controller still in hand, and air dropped into rural Malawi… but that is simply not the case. I began preparing for this project in January (five months prior to departure), and with a final month dedicated towards calm meditation, I really believe that I am arriving with an arsenal of wisdom from stories shared with me, and an open mind capable of fully absorbing new experiences without retreating into a shell of doubt. I want to believe that my preparation will allow me to hike up and down, continuing in the direction of autonomy with relative composure. Only time will tell though. I have no crystal ball; just blind presumption. It may be with great humility that I have to make my next update. Only time will tell. References Pederson, P. (1995). The five Stages of culture shock: critical incidents around the world. Westport, C.T: Greenwood Press. By Ryan Moyer I can’t even convince my good friends to listen to my stories about Africa’s trials and tribulations without them being a few pints deep. Prior to departure, I spent 10 days with friends and family in the GTA catching up, getting nostalgic and gossiping. Towards the end of our last family gathering, I asked my family members if they knew why I was going to Africa and what I was doing there. They responded with answered filled with a slur of sociology buzzwords that surprisingly did somewhat resemble my purpose and project. This situation brought about the realization that Chomsky may be right; humans usually remember only the ‘gist’ of what has been heard in speech. It also made me wonder if it was them whom had ignored or forgotten what I had explained about my project due to their busy lives, wandering minds, apathetic attitude or discomfort in addressing the situation, or rather if it was myself who had failed in animating just how important, interesting and imperative this work is. If it is the latter, this is something I will have to remedy during my week making preliminary visits to villages. Here we go again! By Amber Fortin Nothing felt real until the night we settled into the hostel and saw our Campus for the first time. Between a 12 hour flight from Toronto to Ethiopia, a couple hours in the Addis Ababa airport then a two and a half hour flight until we finally landed in Lilongwe, it had been a long voyage. Once we landed in Malawi it took another two hours driving in a bus with our insane amount of luggage until we finally arrived in the village of Chilanga. While on the bus ride to the campus that afternoon, kids ran pointing and shouting “azungu” over and over again in the villages we passed through. Azungu means white people in Chechewa, the language spoken here. This was very unsettling for me as there was a very strong sense of dependence and importance in our presence. The belief that we know everything and can fix all of their problems is also evident. Post-colonial aftermath is still very real. Once we arrived at The Campus, the women began singing and clapping and thanking us. Many of us didn’t know how to react out of surprise. We played with the kids to try to learn their names; all the kids really enjoyed copying our funny dances and trying to say our foreign western names. The hostel is beautiful and more than I imagined. I feel guilty living here while just down the street there are small deteriorating homes that people are living in on a daily basis, whereas I am only here for 5 weeks, and this is not my daily reality. By Kimberly Gregory I thought that I knew what to except when arriving in Malawi for my second year in a row, however I was wrong. I knew that I would experience culture shock despite having been here before but I thought that I would go through each stage as described by Pederson (1995) swiftly and with ease. As it turns out, I have completely skipped the honeymoon stage and have gone straight to the disintegration stage. Perhaps this was brought upon by my colleagues’ explicit euphoria from their new surroundings. On our drive to the hostel they were so amazed by everything, ironically they were even astonished by things like cows, chickens and goats which are not uncommon in Canada; a clear characteristic of the honeymoon stage. Another moment that drove me straight to the disintegration stage was when I saw the new location as it was even more prestigious than the last. It was a little mansion; the entrance had rounded stairs, the kind that is reminiscent of Mediterranean architecture. It had tall ceilings, and the rooms were enormous, much bigger than the rooms that you would find in most middle class Canadian homes. The beds had brand new mattresses with thick warm sheets for colder nights. Seeing this place invaded me with a sense of guilt because we had just driven from the airport where the majority of homes we saw were disheveled huts made of straw and mud. The only thing that brought me comfort was the fact that I knew this hostel would one day be used for students who want to study in the area. Thus, it was not a castle built exclusively for what was clearly the “white privileged people”. I am concerned that living in this place creates barriers between us and the local community. Paulo Freire (1970) says “solidarity requires that one enter into a situation of those with whom one is solidary” (p.49). Living here prevents us from experiencing how most Malawians live and it reinforces the power inequities. In fact, I am living an even more privileged lifestyle than I would at home. There are people who cook for us and they have been cooking us the kind of meals that you would eat at a five star hotel. Meanwhile, many people here wonder if they will even be able to provide some sort of starch based meal for them and their family. Furthermore, there are even people who clean for us. I am aware that this is a way to provide direct economic relief, however there are certainly repercussions to this. Freire (1970) proposes that “the resolution for the oppressor –oppressed contradiction involves the disappearance of the oppressors as a dominant class” (p.56). There is already a clear dichotomy between the Malawian people and us Canadian students; did this have to be further reinforced by our living conditions? Do these power dynamics prevent us from building true reciprocity? I fear that this upper class lifestyle will distract or even blind people from the entrenched poverty that surrounds us and in turn this lack of consciousness will contribute to less meaningful work in the field. It makes it too easy to return to the safe nest and forget the atrocities of the outside world and forgetting will not bring about the critical reflection that is needed when working on a project like this. References Pederson, P. (1995). The five Stages of culture shock: critical incidents around the world. Westport, C.T: Greenwood Press. Freire, P. (1970). The pedagogy of the oppressed. Bloomsbury: New York. By Vicki Miller Arriving in Malawi was the most magical experience I have ever had. I was wide-eyed at everything the moment I stepped off the plane in Lilongwe (Malawi’s capital); the people, the cars, the lack of trees and all the goats and chickens roaming around. We pulled into The Campus in Chilanga to about twenty women singing and clapping; it was all for US! It was amazing the amount of warmth and bienvenue the entire community showed us. This being my first time in the village, it was all new, but it felt like coming home. Things to be grateful for: the weather, the food, and the hospitality. By Alex Bernier I felt a sense of relief after all the overwhelming events happening on The Campus. A meeting with the Tuck Shop owner took place in the hostel discussing his plans, our suggestions, and questions about the Tuck Shop. The Tuck Shop is a new brick building that was constructed close to the Community Center where the friendly and committed owner is starting a business in selling items to the community. First impressions of him are good and he seems very excited about the potential success and a trustworthy partnership. He is getting ready to open the shop in two days. His cultural experience and understanding allows him to set appropriate prices that the villages will be able to afford. This presents a welcoming business environment to the community so that they won’t feel cheated and are happy to buy locally. An aspect I can bring to this project is my math skills. Calculating how much he pays for items, how much he can sell them for, what profits are made, and having an organized system. Other ideas have been to start a tab for the Transformative Praxis: Malawi members to make buying easier and to give the Tuck Shop owner money in advance to go buy supplies for the shop. This has been my first relationship where respect was earned from both cultures to develop a sustainable Tuck Shop for the community. This is much different than when interacting with the children who copy and surround us constantly, with what I would say is undeserved respect and the idea that we are better or smarter than the rest of their community members. I cannot wait until the end of our five weeks in Malawi to see the progress of the Tuck Shop. I hope it is appreciated and used often by the community long after we have returned home. By Kate Newhouse We have just arrived at our village. As we drive in to the village we are greeted by women singing. Instantly many of us become overwhelmed with the kindness and how happy they seemed to see us. We unloaded and brought out many soccer balls (or footballs as the Malawians call them) to start playing with the kids. It was nice to see so many children on the campus and we could feel it come to life. As we watched the sunset the tremendous colours of blue, green, orange and yellow just made me feel settled. I was so happy that we were here after a long day of travel and I had mixed feelings about the next five weeks. I am excited to see what we can accomplish and see how it all works out. I have been talking about this trip for a year and it’s finally here. We had a “team meeting” tonight where we all expressed our initial impressions. I talked about how we were viewed in the airport as just another group of white kids trying to “save” Africa. I didn’t like this and I wanted to explain to everyone in the airport that this is a project designed to last. Our work here is not going to take jobs away, but hopefully provide them with resources and knowledge to be sustainable year after year as my peers take part in this project as well. During our team meeting, Dr. Stonebanks shared the story as to why the Transformative Praxis: Malawi logo was an eagle. He said it was from a professor in Malawi who he had lunch with and the story was about these birds acting as chickens pecking at the ground when a lion came by and asked why they were doing this. The birds replied that they were Malawian chickens and this is what Malawian chickens did. The lion said that they were actually eagles and that they should be soaring in the sky. We all agreed that this story was very representative of what we are trying to do. We want to show people what we can do and what they can do. Don’t be confined by labels, or norms, but think outside the box and create who you are and what you are capable of. I am still so amazed that we are here and beginning to work so soon. I am still in the honeymoon stage of culture shock, but I can’t wait to experience all this project has to offer By Jessica Fobert We arrived safe and sound off the plane and landed in Lilongwe, the capital city of Malawi!! I met two wonderful women on the flight over who had shared their stories of returning home to Malawi. We stepped off the plane and one lady we had spoken with took a deep breath of fresh air and spread her arms to capture the beaming sun’s rays. After clearing customs we took a two-hour bus ride to the village of Chilanga, in the Kasungu region. On the drive here I was immediately struck by the poverty and the lack of transportation used by locals. Everyone seemed to be walking somewhere. When we arrived at The Campus we were greeted by the locals and the women sang a beautiful song and welcomed us. We were all overwhelmed at the beauty and grandeur of the hostel. Similar to Aboriginal cultures, the people of Malawi unloaded our bags because they believed we were tired from traveling all day and suggested we rest while they unloaded our luggage. I was not sure whether I should sit back and let them do the work, but I could not stand around and watch, so I tried my best to help the women carry in our luggage. From the moment we arrived, I noticed the gender role differences. The men were working hard clearing the fields, painting the buildings and taking part in the construction of the hostel. The women took care of the children, prepared the meals, and collected the water. They often placed heavy buckets of water on top of their heads for extra support. I asked the site overseer, if I could try and collect water. Thankfully, Dr. Sheerin spearheaded a fundraiser to build a well approximately 50m from the hostel, so I did not have to go too far to fetch the water. Some women in Malawi walk up to a mile to collect water, and sometimes it has to be for the whole day! When I was told this I had my first break down. I couldn’t help but think of how much water we waste in Canada, flushing 6L of water down the toilet when people here are struggling to collect fresh water. It is now my third day in Malawi and I am getting concerned about how culture shock will hit me when I return back to Canada. For now, I hope that team Transformative Praxis: Malawi will bring positive changes to the people here so that they can learn to live a more sustainable life. Goodbye for now, or in Chechewa, tionana (see you later). By Kassandra Norrie After hours and hours of travel we finally arrived on campus yesterday. Although I am a returning Praxis Malawi member, I was still arriving into a lot of unknown since this is the first time we have been based on the new campus. As we got off the bus, welcomed by a group of singing women, I was hit by the first phase of culture shock: The Honeymoon Phase. Walking through the new hostel I was amazed with how beautifully everything had been brought together (there was not a roof in the last pictures I saw), and this was the end to the shortest Honeymoon Phase I have ever experienced. After coming in the back and walking through the building I emerged through the front of the hostel and into a construction site. Men were high on ladders painting the cement above the bricks and down on their knees painting the cement of the foundation. This all seemed great until I went to the professors’ house that still was not completed. Men were painting the outside of the hostel while another building, where professors were expected to stay, sat across the campus incomplete. I walked back out of the house, saw the men painting the hostel and immediately thought, “What a waste of time and money”. I skipped over the depression of the Disintegration Phase and went right to where I left off three years ago into the Reintegration Phase. I was angry. The workers were painting our hostel while other buildings were still not completed. I had to remove myself from the group to reflect and place myself somewhere in “The Five Stages of Culture Shock” (Pedersen, 1995). Maybe the men painting were hired painters who could not help to complete the building? I do not know, because I never bothered to ask. Understanding culture shock prior to our arrival in Malawi has enabled me to find my direction and help point others in the right direction as quickly as possible. I know why I am here. I have my goals set to work towards, and with such a short amount of time to work I am happy that my experience has helped me to negotiate my way through culture shock and come out facing in the proper direction. |
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About the BlogFrom 2013 to 2017 students participating in Transformative Praxis: Malawi wrote blog posts reflecting on their experiences of participating in action research in Malawi. Archives
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