New Money

With the devaluation of the kwacha and the increased cost of things, the government decided to print new currency. The largest bill we have had is the MK500, which with devaluation is worth about $2 US. Withdrawing MK30,000 for the bank ($120) I come away with 60 MK500 bills, quite a wade to carry around. The decision was to print a MK1,000 bill, the first of its kind. Then the thinking was to reduce the size of the bills, to cut down on paper costs and to make the handling easier.



Old and new money



Actually, the plans were set under the late President’s reign, before devaluation, but he died before it was accomplished. He wanted his face to appear on all the new bank notes. After his death and with the announcement of the devaluation (from official price of MK160/$1 to MK 250/$1), the need for a lager denomination was even greater. The decision was made to put the first President of Malawi, Hasting Kamuzu Banda, on the new MK1000 bill and to change the faces on all the other bills but the MK500 which would continue to carry the face of John Chilembwe, the one regarded as the father of freedom for Malawi. His face is on all the old paper currency. The Mk200 features Rose Chibambo, the first female cabinet member, and the only person featured who is still living. The MK100 features James Fredrick Sangala, the founder of the Nyasaland African Congress. The MK50 has the face Inkosi Ya  Makhosi Gomani II, Philip Zitonga Maseko, the most development conscious paramount chief in the 1940’s and 50’s. On the MK20 is Inkosi Ya Makhosi M’mbelwa, Lazalo Mkhuzo Jere, the most fearless leader of the northern or Jere Ngoni, who mobilized his people to support the Nyasaland African Congress and Dr. Kamuza Banda in the 1950’s. All the new bills are smaller than the old ones

The new bills were issued on Wednesday. There has been great conversation about them. Everyone is eager to see them. Today when I went to the ATM, the machine dispensed the new bills. I was surprised. They are much smaller. Of course, they are new, so they are crisp and easier to handle, but even so, they look and feel different. Yesterday, Maxwell requested that as soon I got a new bill that I show it to him. He was curious. He is not alone. Even at the ATM, as the money was dispensed, folks were stopping before putting the bills in their wallets and examining them. There was conversation about how to handle them, mixed with the old bills, which are still legal tender until May 22, 2013. So until then, we have two sizes and a new denomination. This is a lot to be absorbed and to get used to. There is reason for conversation. We will become used to them and handle the two sizes for the next year, but for the time being, it is a novelty.

The Round House

My friend Silas has more inventive ideas than anyone I know. He is always working on something innovative. That is even true when it comes to building his retirement home. He wants a round house. This has been his dream for many years. It is now becoming a reality.

Most people laughed at him when he said that, but he was not fazed. He made the plans.  He consulted an architect who has as much imagination as Silas. (He has an elevated soccer ball shaped house that has 6 floors, so a round house was no challenge for him.) Silas’ son Sam is a contractor and was eager for the challenge. Construction began in earnest about three months ago. Last week I had the opportunity to see the site I have been hearing so much about. The building is at the roofing stage, so the shape is clear and the room arrangement settled. It is impressive already.



Entryway, facing bedroom window



The entryway is cut into the circle of the house, forming a porch that is framed on either side by two large arched windows, one looking out from the master bedroom and the other from the dining room. The entry door is glass paneled to let light into the living room. That is the primary entry point to the house, although there is a kitchen door as well. The living room is circular, the inner circle of the house, as it were, with two archways, one leading out to the circular hallway that is behind the living room and the other to the dining room. From the living room, we took the tour beginning with the dining room, to the right as you enter the house. It has two rounded walls, one concave and the other convex, but the end walls are flat. On one is the window that looks out onto the porch. On the other is an archway that leads to the hall. The hallway curves along behind the living room, forming a small interior circular pathway through the house. Off it are the kitchen, two bedrooms and two bathrooms. At the far end of the hallway is the master bedroom, and the archway that goes into the living room. We had come full circle. The master bedroom is large, with a master bath off it. The one window looks at the porch and a second one, one the curved wall, looks out on the garden that has already been planted and will be maturing with time. The design is simple, but functional and all round.



Master Bedroom



The roof will rise to a peek, like a village house with at thatched roof, but this one will be covered with tile. The challenge, according to Sam, has been to find tile cutters who can manage the circular roof. He has just hired some who have done this once before. He is hopeful. While the structure is unfinished, the lines are clear and the design is inspiring. Sam says it will be ready for occupancy in August. I am so eager to see it when it is finished. As always, I am amazed at my friend’s imagination and ingenuity – and determination to do what others wouldn’t even dream of.

The Agent

Renewing my Malawian driver’s license became another cultural experience. I got the original in Zomba, a small town with a small office for motor vehicle issues. Silas took care of the details for me, so it was no problem. But I had to renew in Blantyre. Silas’ son Sam offered to help. He has taken care of most of my car issues. We were delayed in doing this because the Road Traffic office did not have the paper to process things and then did not have a functional camera for over two months. I have been having Maxwell or Sam drive for me since I was “illegal” if I drove. The police would not recognize my valid US driver’s license or my international license. I needed a Malawian license. I was thrilled when Sam said that the paper and the camera were finally available. Off we went as quickly as we could.

The first stop was in Ndirande, a crowded township near the Synod. There we needed to collect the Agent, a young man in jeans and a t-shirt with a pink backpack over his shoulder. This is where my cultural education began. An agent is someone who knows the workings of the Road Traffic offices and who can get things done faster. He takes care of running the forms from office to office for his client, for a small fee (about $8). This seemed reasonable to me, since the whole system baffled me. He had told Sam that I needed duplicate copies of my old license, my passport and my Temporary Work Permit, plus having the originals with me. He also recommended that I wear my clergy color. It would help expedite things. I was prepared. When he got in the car, he handed me an official Road Traffic form to fill out that asked for basic identification information and the copies I was carrying. I filled in the form as we drove to the Road Traffic office and gave everything to the agent.

When we arrived at Road Traffic, Maxwell parked the car and the agent and Sam led me to the first office we needed to visit. We passed an outer waiting room that was full and proceeded to the secretary’s office. She smiled and greeted me as she received the papers from the agent. She motioned for me to be seated in the only vacant chair in the area, which happened to be across from her desk. She looked over the forms, spoke to the agent and then took the forms into an inner office. She returned within five minutes with the forms signed and instructed the agent to take the forms and my money to the next office. I could remain where I was. I produced the needed money, took out the book I brought along for just such a situation and began reading. The agent left to process the payment for me. He returned in about 30 minutes and handed the papers to the secretary. She added a further stamp to them and handed them back, with instructions to take me to have my photo taken. I followed him outside and into an adjoining building, going past a long line of folks standing with forms in hand, waiting. The line wound into the building and down a hallway that provided seating for those further up in the line. We passed by all of them and entered the office they were waiting to enter. I felt guilty. Once in the office, I was instructed to take the last seat and wait. The agent handed the papers to the young woman behind the desk who was taking the photos. She handed them back and grumbled that I should wait. I had the distinct feeling that, while this happened all the time, she didn’t fully approve of those with agents jumping line. I wasn’t sure that I did either, but I had done it. I waited, moving up a seat each time she processed one of those ahead of me. As I got to the head of the line, another young woman entered the office with a bag of French fries and a soda for the photographer. It was tea time. But the photographer did not fully stop work; she merely ate, chatted with her friend and continued processing those waiting. I was impressed with her diligence. Others might have taken the full break. Finally my turn came and I stepped up to sign the electronic pad, enter my finger print electronically and finally have my photo taken. The photographer signed my forms, returning them to me and instructing me to return to the first office. I exited the office and sheepishly began to walk past all those waiting to be photographed. About half way down the hallway lineup, one of those seated stopped me to ask a question. She is one of the members of the Friends of Chigodi committee. She inquired about our last meeting, which she had missed. We chatted briefly, with no mention of my “cutting line.” She seemed unfazed by it. I was still feeling guilty.

As I exited the building, the agent found me and led me back to the first office. He instructed me to take a seat in the waiting area and he further processed the forms. He took them to the secretary and together they left the office. I resumed reading my book. About half an hour later the secretary returned with an official form with my photo and finger print. She told me it was my temporary license, good until August 20, 2012. By that time I should have my permanent license, but if not I could come to have the temporary renewed. They still did not have the paper for the card licenses. I thanked her and left. The agent was just outside the office, waiting for me. I thanked him and paid him. He left to help someone else. The whole process had taken 2 ½ hours. When I got into the car, I asked Sam about the procedure of an agent. He explained that those without an agent would be there for the entire day and may even have to return the next to complete the process. Agents were a way of those who could afford it to speed up the process. Anyone could do it, if they could pay. The Road Traffic office did not object because it kept people happy in the midst of a time consuming exercise. That is just the way business is done. I wonder about the ethics of it, but I still thanked God for the agent.