Still walking... A day in the the life of a Malawian

If you missed the beginning of the story, you can read the first post about my trip here :-)


We started our trip full speed ahead. We were told of the "cultural immersion" day kind of in passing; "yeah, we'll go to the village and it'll be great" or "you'll get a good look at Malawian culture". Well yes, both were true... very true!

My team and I happily hopped on the bus that day, ready for an adventure. We had no idea just how far the day would take us. We wound our way through the busy, crowded streets just outside the big city, bumping along steadily before stopping at a seemingly random point, surrounded by people. We were given partners, a handful of colorful bills, and a list of words in Chichewa (the language of Malawi) and set free on the unsuspecting market.

Charged with the task of gathering the necessities of the day, we fumbled through the language and the open air market itself. It was a bustling plethora of colors, potent scents, smoke, barefooted children, laughter, and shouts of Chichewa. It was all that I remembered :-). While others looked amazed, shocked, or completely lost, I felt myself walking with a stupid grin on my face, breathing in the air that felt so very African to me.

We eventually gathered our goods and headed to our destination for the day. Splitting into our pairs again, we made our way to the homes we were to be "immersed" in. They weren't kidding when they said that word: "immersion". We met with our families, and then jumped right into their plans for the day. Cooking, cleaning, mudding huts, or gathering water and carrying it on our heads, each pair set to helping their families. This is where it got messy. You would think, having actually lived with an african family for months in the past, I would have rocked this task. Think again.


Where to start... I had no idea what to say to my family, I spilled their clean washing water we had just gotten, dumped the clean dishes in the dirt, knocked the pot we were cooking in into the fire countless times, oh yeah, and sliced my finger open with the new knife we had brought them as a gift, and bled all over their vegetables... yeah, just that. Did I mention they had a hard time believing me when I told them this was my 5th trip to Africa?

This day stretched our team. Some spent the day praying not to get sick from touching raw goat meat, snotty toddler faces, holding hands with countless small, dirty children, and then proceeding to eat 2 meals with those same, unwashed hands (no utensils). Some spend the day near tears at the poverty and struggle they were surrounded by for the first time. I spent the day in awe of the spirit of those around me, and the love of my Father and willingness to send and use me, despite my oh so apparent weaknesses.

 As my struggles and embarrassment chugged along that day, do you know what my Malawian family did? They smiled. They laughed. They made sure I was ok, they fixed my mistakes, they hugged me and thanked me for coming. They showed me a love I had no business receiving and accepted me just as I was. They showed me grace. Grace; when I was clumsy, prideful, and awkward.

I had no idea at the time, but I met some of my best friends that day; some of the girls I would come to love and never forget. I didn't know until way later; but I met my sponsor child that day. That time of laughter and mistakes that day are priceless now. The pictures are precious. And I almost missed it by being caught up in what I couldn't do, instead of what He was doing.

And this was all before our task, our love, our full and beautiful work with the special needs kids even started...