By Cassia Tremblay

Malawi is beautiful and hopeful and also a little intimidating. The light is soft and it’s easy to forget that there is so much that is not soft about this country and this continent. It’s a funny juxtaposition to read about corruption and violence and poverty in Gerald Caplan’s The Betrayal of Africa while looking out across the still and silent bush that stretches out in front of the hostel or while being surrounding by smiling kids. On one hand it is sort of a relief that my surroundings don’t feel as hectic as the Africa described in the book. On the other hand we’re very sheltered at the hostel and what we see of the communities around us doesn’t likely reflect reality entirely.
I hope that my project will help me move into a headspace somewhere between harsh reality and dreams for positive change. Excuse me while I replicate an obnoxiously long passage from the Betrayal of Africa from the two sections “The Role of Outsiders” and “Who Cares about Africa?”
“This book offers no magic bullets, no easy answers to Africa’s problems. There are none. Everywhere you look there are major problems, and all of them must be tackled at the same time, because they all interact. And the tackling must be done by Africans and outsiders. … We need to help Africa not out of our selflessness and compassion but as restitution, compensation, an act of justice for the generations of crises, conflict, exploitation and underdevelopment for which we bear so much responsibility. … Until we think about the West’s relationship with Africa honestly, until we face up to the real record, until we acknowledge our vast culpability and complicity in the Africa mess, until then we’ll continue – in our caring and compassionate way – to impose policies that actually make the mess even worse.”
This passage makes me frustrated with Big Money and Big Men but it also makes me frustrated with myself. Global inequality is abhorrent, and I benefit from it, and until Gerald Caplan pointed it out to me, I never thought to consider how I was connected to the people of Malawi before I had even heard of TPM. This sentiment reminds me to frame my days here in terms of courage, restitution, and cooperation rather than compassion and philanthropy.  It is with this mentality that I hope to move forward into my project (a project that is not really mine in any way).

The toilet project focuses on heath and sanitation, which feels like a lot to take on. There are so, so many aspects to social and community health that I cannot even anticipate. So instead of burdening myself with ‘health and sanitation’ I am going to try to think of the project in smaller terms: first we’ll gain an understanding of local hygiene practices, needs and wants, then we’ll plan a toilet, then we’ll build one and maybe repeat the process a second time.
It’s hard to grasp that I am only here for 5 weeks and I am trying to contribute to a project that will last years. It’s especially daunting to hear about how so many of last year’s projects didn’t survive. However, Melanie reminded me this morning that my efforts are a drop in the bucket and while I cannot fill or carry the bucket by myself, the drop I accomplish alongside my co-learners still matters. Those weren’t her exact words… but I’m pretty sure that’s what she meant.

By Ashwini Manohar

Malawi from the air is barren — red earth stretching for miles, shrubs, trees and occasionally a collection of huts. My first impression of Malawi was buoyed by intense curiosity, and I’m ashamed to say, filtered through the distorting lens of my camera.
Despite never being interested in documenting my life with pictures, the moment the chartered bus started moving from the parking lot of the airport, I whipped out my phone, went to the video feature and started recording. Soon enough, we left the relatively wealthy Lilongwe and headed towards Kasungu.
Poverty was ubiquitous. And I was mindlessly snapping, driven by some obscene desire to capture what was streaming by my window. Twenty minutes into the bus ride, realization struck: what was I doing? Why was I consuming poverty in this way? None of the people I’d snapped had given me explicit permission to take pictures of them. I put my phone away, ashamed and angry with myself.
I don’t really know how to put into words what I felt after that, as I gazed out the window. Mostly I felt numb, I think, not connecting the shanty huts with the fact that people lived in them. Occasionally we’d pass a busy business district, run-down stores selling everything from coffins to salon services. Sometimes music blasted from an unseen speaker.
We turned right on to a bumpy dirt road after a while. “We’re two minutes away,” Kassie said when I asked if we were close. The bus slowed to a crawling pace. As we rounded a corner, the TPM campus came into view. I immediately got anxious. Amber was almost jumping off her seat with excitement at seeing all the ladies she’d formed deep relationships with last year. Coming out of the bus in the midst of her squealing and hugging (oh Amber) was a bit overwhelming, but the kind and incredibly warm welcome I received put me at ease. I was happy and secure.
That feeling has remained the last three days as I acclimated (and still am) to life in Malawi. The sun rises before 6 and sets by about 7 in the evening. Roosters call and dogs howl during the night, and sunsets are breathtaking. You get one pail of hot water to shower, along with a cup; the two showers are conjoined in a small concrete building with wooden pellets and doors that don’t lock from the inside.  The kitchen is outdoors — a cement structure with a partitioned pantry in the back, and most of the cooking is done with a charcoal fire in a mbaula: a clay pot handcrafted by women who poke holes in the bottom, which is then encircled by concrete and attached to a metal bottom that collects the ash from the burning charcoal. I recognized it from my childhood in Singapore. In preparation for Diwali, my grandmother would use it to fry her murukus (circular lentil biscuits) in a wok full of oil. I learned that a small mbaula costs about 1500 kwacha, or about $3 Canadian, and a bigger one costs about 2000 or 2500 kwacha, or about $4 or $5 Canadian. Almost every household has at least one.
All of Sunday I spent with Unna and Chimwemwe (which means Happiness in Chechewa, the language spoken in these parts of Malawi), who cook our meals, clean our hostel and haul water for us to clean ourselves and drink. Sunday was honestly the happiest I’ve felt this year. I learned how to make nsima and mpilu (green leaves that look like lettuce) and beans. Unna told me about life in Malawi — how women in Malawi relate to each other, the political system, what she feels about the political system, her husband and her two kids. I told her and Chimwemwe that the children in the field were making fun of my hairy arms, and they laughed at them too and said women in Malawi don’t really grow hair anywhere! (It’s true. I’m jealous.) We shared stories and laughed and had a really good time.
Though I am cocooned in a haze of happiness and contentment (Stage 1: Honeymoon Phase), confusion about my role in TPM and what TPM does still lingered. I was starting to get anxiety attacks because I didn’t want my experience for the next 5 weeks to be one of me floundering around for direction and for everything I do with the community here to be useless.
So on Saturday, I plucked up my courage and went to the professors’ house to ask Dr. Stonebanks and Melanie some questions. It was a good talk — I learned about the political structure of TPM, and of the nearby villages, and where the development committee fit in, which is what Amber and I were going to work on with the women in TPM.
I haven’t strayed beyond the protective boundaries of the campus, and want very much to walk through the villages. I’m sure that will happen in the coming weeks.
Tio nana (See you later).

By Kirsten Dobler

I’ve been attempting to catch and ponder my thoughts and feelings over the last two days. There are many ways to feel when you return to a place like Chilanga, Malawi.
I feel comfort in the familiarity of my surroundings: the faces and names that stuck in my mind, the children that call me Kiri (kee-ree) or Kristina, the groups of children that follow us to the football (soccer) pitch or follow and join us as we walk down the roads.
I feel unease when asking myself what I can contribute to the lives of those who live here. Even asking that question — am I so filled with the idea of being a ‘white savior’ that I must enact my knowledge onto the people I encounter? What does it mean to help people who aren’t asking, but expecting (in a sense) for us to help? It’s a double-edged sword because we are told by western society that we need to help and it is imprinted into colonial history for them to expect it. Have we ever given countries that we label Third World the opportunity to discover and develop on their own? Sure the ‘colonial powers’ aren’t ruling anymore, but their legacy is strong. Who cares if people act the same as us or work the same as us? If everyone is healthy and respected should that not be enough? Is it sensible for us to believe that we know what’s best?
I am filled with hope that all of my questions can be reached through communication and dialogue. If we’re going to succeed, we need to allow our community to mutually prosper. Of course we are going to help in all the ways that are of means, but we need to learn first. Our community must be sustainable in our relationships, practices, and goals.
I am frustrated at the people who have become a part of the project that chose to abandon the hard work they put in. Everyone cares about the project in Malawi, but what happens when they return to the West? Is it out of sight out of mind? I deeply worry that it sets an example for our community here. When people come and create things without local investment the projects are lost. One of the successes from the past year is the chicken coop. I believe that it’s because of the positive relationship that Amber has with the Women’s Group. If we can create relationships and autonomy then we can become sustainable.
In the next five weeks we will be looking towards many things we have on campus.
In the eleven months I was away from Malawi in the past year it was not always easy to envision myself back here. It was often difficult to think about my contribution on the ground. When you are absorbed into the fast paced reality of your life at home it’s difficult to think externally. As of this moment I am hoping and striving to create the relationships needed to mutually grow in knowledge and passion for the success of this, of our, TPM community.

By Kassandra Norrie

This past year was the first that I was able to remain involved with the TPM team through the full year. A project that had previously been five weeks and a couple of fundraisers to me became a major part of my life. There were many highs and lows throughout the year, days that brought me to tears, days that I would run into an office with great news to share, and days with so many mixed emotions. Many of these emotions were sparked by iPhone pictures sent from a colleague living on the campus in Malawi.
When projects began, buildings were constructed, ‘poop trees’ grew, the campus continued to evolve and I would receive pictures to my phone. When we arrived last year I was prepared for a brand new campus; however, this year I thought I knew exactly what I was arriving to. With all of the picture updates I saw through the year I mistakenly thought I was very prepared to arrive on the campus this week. As we got off the bus and I walked towards the two newest buildings, a radio station and a house for the field director, I was astounded with the constructions. The pictures on my phone screen did not do it justice. The radio station was at least twice the size I thought it was. The new home was more beautiful than I had imagined.
As someone who has already been to Malawi twice and lived on the campus for five weeks, I thought I knew exactly what these pictures looked like in reality. The realization of how underwhelming the pictures actually were (no offence to the photographer) made me realize how I may be portraying TPM to others in Canada. When I look at a picture of the TPM Community Center I automatically picture the tuck shop to the left, the beautiful mural on the sidewall, the imposing tree behind where chiefs gather in the shade, the gardens in front, children playing on the porch, committees meeting inside, and the striking sun rising from behind. When I show that same picture to someone who has not had the opportunity to visit our campus, what do they see? A plain brick building and wonder why I get so excited? Going from iPhone pictures to reality this year has made me rethink the pictures I use when showing others what TPM is, what they stand for, what they have done, and what they plan to accomplish. How can I (and other TPM members) take pictures that will show everyone else what I see when I look at a picture of a seemingly plain brick building?

By Amber Fortin

My name is Ashwini Manohar and I’m 24 years old. I’m currently a third year Economics student at Simon Fraser University, to which I’ve just recently transferred from Mount Allison University, where I discovered my love for economics. I stumbled into it quite accidentally, because all my life I’ve wanted to be involved in film and theatre. That’s sort of on the backburner now.
I was born in Singapore, where almost all of my extended family still live, and came to Canada with my parents, siblings and paternal grandmother in 2005 at age 13. To qualify it as a shock to the system would be an understatement, and my very first impression of Vancouver, I regret to say, was one of disappointment. I’d never been outside of Asia before and I missed the heat and the lush greenery that lined Singapore’s barricaded concrete streets. In fact, I think the relative openness of Vancouver’s roads (and Western culture, as I found out eventually in school) was what sent me reeling. I remember still that I spent that whole summer huddled in a sweater, (because 20-something degrees is actually cold to somebody used to 30-something degree weather!) angry with my parents for “destroying” my secure and comfortable life in my beloved Singapore.
These past 11 years have been a period of gradual but substantial change, more mental than physical. Vancouver has become home, in the true sense of the word, a place where I find serenity and peace. Today, I inhabit some hyphenated identity that I can’t fully comprehend myself.
This will be my first time in Malawi, and perhaps because I realize what I’m in for with the culture shock, or perhaps because I don’t truly know what I’m in for, in addition to excitement, curiosity and unbridled optimism (which I expect to be crushed a little), there is also an underbelly of nervousness and anxiety as the weeks turn into days, and then into hours before my departure date. I’m told this is going to be a life-changing experience. I find myself pacing my house, up and down the stairs, heart thumping, unable to calm my scatterbrained thoughts. The only reprieve comes in the form of my family’s six-month-old golden doodle, Romeo, whose presence I’ll greatly miss while in Malawi.
I’m currently reading North of South by Shiva Naipaul, recommended by Dr. Stonebanks, since the political and historical connotations of my Indian-descended brown body in Africa is something I need to understand and grapple with prior to, during and after my trip. Ensuring that I’m not part of or perpetuating harmful ideologies while in Malawi is important to me as well as to the project itself.
I’m looking forward to learning and growing in the next few weeks and to share my thoughts here. Thanks for reading!

My name is Kassandra Norrie and I am a M.A. graduate student in the School of Education at Bishop’s University. This is my third time travelling to Malawi with TPM. I first joined Transformative Praxis: Malawi during my final year as an undergrad at Bishop’s University, and it was because of this experience that I decided to continue on to graduate studies. The grassroots project is completely funded by student fundraising and a few generous donations from supporters, like Switzerland’s Jahan Foundation. After graduating with my B.Ed, I taught in Halifax for three years and began my M.A. at Acadia University. I returned to Malawi last year as a student in the graduate course, and wrote a paper as my final assignment on perceptions of learned helplessness in rural Malawi based on my own observations and dialogue with leaders in the community. Following this experience I made the decision to transfer back to Bishop’s to work under Dr. Stonebanks’ excellent supervision and become more involved with TPM.
What differentiates our work from other charity-based programs is that we are steeped in a research approach, with professors, undergraduates and graduate students working collaboratively with community. We don’t just help to build schools; the work we do is collaborative and fused with dialogue. An example would be the hybrid curriculum currently being designed, piloted in an after school program, and soon enacted in the charter school. We are now actively fundraising for the construction of a grade one, two and three classroom block. In my experience, it is the small projects that are driven by heart that create the most lasting changes in development work, and I encourage you continue following the work of all TPM members!

Hello, I’m Kirsten Dobler! If you were taking a look at our previous blogs you will have seen me before! This is my second time to Malawi. I travelled to Malawi last year with a focus on education and the after school program. I will be working on these projects again, as well as with the Teacher Professional Development. I am very happy to be returning to our TPM Campus. I am looking forward to continuing what our group developed last year and to see the smiley faces of the kids from the surrounding villages. This year, I will be bringing an accumulation of my first experience in Malawi, my first back-to-the-west culture shock, and the completion of one university degree. While I have had an experience in Malawi before, I can only assume that this one will be entirely different. I’m preparing myself to ensure that my projects will have continuity. I am also doing my best to prepare myself to offer support to my peers that have never been to Malawi before.
Although this will be my second time in Malawi I believe that it will be a completely new experience. You’ll be hearing from me lots!

Hi! My name is Laura Donoghue and I am 23 years old. I am studying Kindergarten and Elementary Education at McGill University. I grew up just outside of Montreal in a little tourist town, St Sauveur. Growing up I got to ski all winter, play soccer all summer and horse ride year round. Over all I grew up in a very safe and sheltered area.
I moved into an apartment in Montreal in 2010 to attend Dawson College. I studied North-South studies and had the opportunity to travel to Nicaragua. I learned so much on this trip. We lived with host families in the rural towns and got some insight into their way of life. What stuck with me the most was the children, and how much I loved spending time with them. Their eagerness to learn and go to school was eye opening to me. We had a conference with one of the local school principals and there I found out that many of the children with special needs in the area were left behind due to the lack of resources available to them. This stuck with me as I had always taken for granted the extra help I got in school and had not realized how fortunate I truly was.
After Nicaragua I took a year off to explore my interests. I ended up working for an activities camp in England where I taught a variety of activities, such as archery, climbing, and team building. I then worked for the same company on the Mediterranean coast of Spain for the following two summers. I loved living in a new country and experiencing the culture, language and way of life.
Last summer I decide to yet again work abroad for the summer, except this time I worked with teenagers on a teen tour in Italy. This was a very different experience and reminded me of how much I loved working with the local Nicaraguans and learning from their knowledge and life style.
After hearing about Transformative Praxis: Malawi, I was determined to find out more and get involved. I am inspired by the collaborative nature of the trip and cannot wait to learn from the locals. As one of the focuses for Transformative Praxis: Malawi is education, I decided it was a phenomenal opportunity for me. There are many unknown aspects of this trip, and I am sure I will be challenged in ways I have not even imagined. Though there are many nerves that come along with participating in this trip, my excitement to learn from my peers and the locals is overwhelming.

Hello! Dzina langa ndili Mark Freedman (My name is Mark Freedman). I am from Montreal, Québec, Canada. I am currently an undergrad student at Bishop’s University, well into my degree of secondary education and social studies. I have always been the type to stand in the ‘teacher’ role throughout my various jobs growing up while at the same time, I believe there is no cap on learning or what you can achieve in a lifetime, it’s limitless. I have a huge respect for my fellow human beings and the environment we inhabit, and with that I enjoy learning about and appreciating other cultures and ways of life around me.
While in Malawi, there is so much I could hope to accomplish alongside my colleagues, collaborators, and co-learners. My goals are to take monumental steps in empowering women through sport as a step toward the greater goal of alleviating human suffering through dialogic and collaborative education. Trying to remain as realistic as possible, my goals are simple, and anything above and beyond is icing on the cake, so to speak. Also, building around the idea of sustainability, I’m interested to find out what the local people think about collecting rainwater for garden use, and potentially collaborating on some sort of rain harvesting system.
One of my greatest hopes is that I will learn just as much from the people as they can learn from me; whether it’s about culture, customs, or education, there will be exchanges. Having a passion for education, I look forward to learning about and collaborating on curriculum with my co-learners as well.
So long for now!

Hi all, I’m Sunny Man Chu Lau, associate professor in the School of Education at Bishop’s University. Second language education is my research area and my teaching profile. In particular, I’m interested in critical pedagogy that promotes critical literacy learning and dynamic plurilingualism and multiliteracies that resist the monolingual bias. I was born and raised in Hong Kong when it was still a British colony at the time. Having experienced the colonial education, I felt deeply for the need to design curricula and adopt pedagogies that reflect, embrace and mobilize the local cultural and linguistic resources for learning that is meaningful and purposeful for the local. What attracts me to the TPM project is the heightened awareness of the importance to work WITH the local people, respecting their own defined needs as well as the strengths and resources they have. I look forward to the opportunity to exchange with the local teachers about language and literacy teaching practices in the two different contexts.
We just had the first online seminar on Sunday and I was surprisingly happy to find that most TPM participants seemed to know each other very well already and I did feel like being welcomed into a close family full of cheeky fun and laughter. Look forward to getting to know you all as well as the project more!

To those who will read this, My name is Tim O’Connell and I am a 28-year-old resident of Montreal, born and raised in the West Island. I am a recent graduate from McGill University’s Elementary Education program. Before entering McGill, I graduated from Concordia’s JMSB program and worked in sales, before realizing that business was not my forte.
Ever since hearing about Transformative Praxis: Malawi in my ELA class taught by Professor Bennett some two years ago, I was hooked. I have always wanted to do something along the lines of traveling to an underdeveloped country and work with the locals; however, no other organization or trip option really grabbed my attention like Transformative Praxis: Malawi. I wasn’t interested in traveling to an exotic country, help build a house in a few weeks, snap some pictures with the local kids and party for the rest of the trip. I wanted something meaningful that was more than just a quick stay somewhere foreign. TPM offered all that I was looking for; an opportunity to travel to a beautiful country and work and learn alongside the locals in a collaborative environment. Additionally, to have the possibility to implement change and continuously work towards that change far beyond the trip’s duration. I look forward to bonding with the people of Malawi, the dedicated professors and fellow peers that will be participating in this amazing adventure.
While in Malawi, I would like to implement a rugby program that will aim to teach the students the basic skills required to play the game. The focus will be around physical activity, teamwork, and fun. Rugby is an amazing sport that can be enjoyed by anyone at any age or ability and I hope to pass on my passion of the game to the locals of Malawi.