Police Voices

Choirs are common place in churches in Malawi. Limbe has seven of them and they take turns participating in the services. So it takes a lot for a particular choir to grab attention. But this past Sunday a choir sang at Limbe that caused me to pause.

First it was a men’s choir. That in itself is unique. Women sing in Mvano choirs and even travel to one another’s churches, especially to other districts of the country, to share music and experiences. Young men sing in youth choirs and occasionally the young men will form a quartet within the choir, but they are clearly youth, young men not yet married. It is most rare to have men’s choir.



Christ's Ambassadors singing at Limbe



But this choir was even more distinctive. These men were all police officers, posted at the Police Training School (PTS) in Blantyre. Limbe has a prayer house at the PTS site. It is under the session of Limbe CCAP, which means that it does not have a large enough or steady enough eldership to support a church. Since the majority of the folks at PTS are in training, they are there only a year or so and then are out in the field, assigned to other locations. The instructors at PTS are consistent, but they are not numerous enough to support a church, so they remain a prayer house of Limbe. Police officers in Malawi have a spotty reputation, to say the least. Some are aggressive, if not violent. Some are heavy drinkers and some are corrupt, willing to take bribes for anything from a small traffic offense to a major crime. Especially after the riots of July 20, 2011, people are suspicious of police officers because of the violence that happened at what was to be a peaceful demonstration. But that is not all police by any means. This choir is made up of police officers who have made a commitment to Christ and want to have a positive witness with their lives. They call themselves Christ’ Ambassadors. They sing to the glory of God and they sing to make a statement about who they are as men of God. It was thrilling to hear their strong voices raised in harmony and praise to God. The congregation was as impressed as I was. They applauded and asked them to sing a second song. The officers agreed. The congregation showed their approval by standing and clapping with them as they sang. It was a stirring moment and a powerful witness to Christ’s power in a man’s life.

Day's Inn Malawi

Hospitality is part of life in Malawi and it is a big part of my home, since I help to coordinate the schedules of visitors to Blantyre Synod, especially international visitors. That is one of the reasons that I have a four bedroom house. It functions more like an inn than a house – Day’s Inn Malawi. That is the name some of my friends have given it Sometimes it fits, like now.

About two months ago, we made arrangements with the Synod of Zambia to host their Women’s Desk Coordination, Rose Haraba, and provide training for her. I worked with our Women’s Desk Coordinator on the details, but the one question was where would she stay? With me, of course. I have the room. She arrived June 4 to stay for three weeks of training. In the meantime, my Australian friends ran into a snag. Grace Bandawe, where they always stay, had been overbooked so we needed to find accommodations for some of them. John and Sue, expats here from Australia, could take three and I could take three, as long as two were married and could share a room. I knew there were two married couples on the trip, so that would work. It was all arranged. They arrived June 13 and that gave me a full house. While Rose here by herself, Thomas came down for a few days and filled one of the spare rooms. They had a great time together (Chikwawa Shopping). He knew the schedule and left shortly before the Aussies arrived.



Day's Inn Malawi



The Aussies have an ambitious schedule and are out in the rural areas of the Synod for parts of each week. The three who are staying with me are among those who travel. Diane is working at Chigodi Monday through Thursday and is staying there during that time. Her husband Doug and his building partner Steve are out at work sites Monday through Friday. This week they are staying at the sites. I thought that would leave Rose and me alone this week, but on Monday afternoon Rev. Bessie Liwonde, one of my former students who has adopted me as a mom, arrived with the announcement that she would be staying through Friday while she attends a conference here in Blantyre. I knew Steve’s room would be empty, so we quickly rearranged a few things and changed the bedding. She will leave Friday morning. We will change the bed and prepare the room for Steve’s return, like any good inn would do. But Day’s Inn is more like a Bed and Breakfast, as folks get a night’s sleep, a hardy breakfast and are off for the day’s activities. Evening dinners may be for those who are staying here or for them and a number more. Friday of this week the Aussie team, Rose and whoever else is around will be here for dinner. I’m counting on at least 16 at this point. Reservations are not required.

This is not unusual. This is the norm for the busy season of visitors. I jokingly call this “Alendo Season.”  (Alendo means visitor.) Last year I had a period of four months in which I had just two days when I did not have overnight guests. It makes life interesting. I get to know so many wonderful people that I would not have the opportunity to know otherwise, from all over the world. In the next few weeks, before I leave for the States, there are folks coming from Korea, Ireland and the US to add to my Zambian and Australian friends. Then my Malawian family and friends come and go as well. It is a delight to have an open house and help people feel part of the Warm Heart of Africa. But the truth is that I am not doing anything unusual. This is Malawian hospitality. It would be unthinkable to not welcome folks and make room for them in your life. A Malawian proverb says that a house is blessed if it has visitors. Mine is greatly blessed

The Aussies Have Arrived

Partnership takes many faces. Actually, no two partnerships are alike, just as no two people are alike. That is as it should be. So the Australians of the Presbyterian Church of Victoria bring their own flavor and style when they come to work with their partners in Blantyre Synod. And work is the operative word. They come to work alongside their partners.

The preparation for this work began in January when they began gathering materials and plans for what they would do while here for a month. The materials were particularly important. They gathered tools for roofing and mechanical repairs. They collected sewing materials and machines to assist in tailoring classes, books and computers for classroom instruction. The list seemed endless as they filled two forty foot sea containers for Malawi and one for Zambia. These arrived two weeks before the Australian team did, (see The Container) so that everything was in readiness for their arrival. In the meantime they were gathering the team that would use these materials – 2 auto mechanics, a computer tech who also would work with the builder, 3 ladies to teach home crafts at Chigodi, 2 young girls to work with youth, a nurse and 2 pastors. Emails flowed back and forth between the Generals Secretary and the leader of the team, the 2 Australians who are in residences here at the moment and various team members, and Chigodi staff and the ladies who were planning projects for the Chigodi skills class. They had collected money to support these projects as well and that was wired. On this end, we purchased the materials that were not shipped but were needed for these projects – iron sheets for roofs, plaster board for ceilings, car parts. All this awaited their arrival.





Mvano welcoming their Aussie partners



Aussie Team being welcomed



The Aussies arrived on Wednesday to a warm welcome at Chileka Airport, with the Synod officials, the Partnership committee members and Mvano to sing. Despite the fact that they had been traveling for 32 hours, they were ready for a welcome dinner that evening. But that was the end of the festivities. Thursday it was to work for the whole team. The team leader, Rev. John Wilson, and his colleague Rev. David Brown met with the General Secretary and finalized preaching and teaching schedules. The mechanics reported to the Synod garage to begin machinery repairs – cars and other motorized equipment. The builder and his assistant were on the roof of a house at Chigodi by 8:30 a.m., repairing the roof so they could then replace the ceiling in the rooms affected by the roof’s leaking. Everyone else was following up with the folks with whom they would be working, to be certain that everything was in place. Over the weekend, they led a seminar in Zomba, and visited a prison and then were in 3 different churches on Sunday to preach and share. They had arranged for Bibles to be bought here and distributed them to the churches they visited.

As I write, the groups are at work all over the Synod. Two are working with the Youth Department in the schools, 3 are at Chigodi, 2 are roofing a church, 2 are repairing machinery, 1 is working with BSHDC at the medical clinics and the 2 pastors are conducting a pastors’ workshop. This program will continue for the month they are here. Their energy and their giving is a blessing to all they come in contact with. The impact of their time here will be felt long after they return to Australia. That is the blessing of partnership.

Chikwawa Shopping

The Women’s Desk Coordinator from Zambia Synod is in Blantyre for three weeks of information exchanges. Yesterday was the only free day on her schedule so we decided to take advantage of it to take her to Nyala Animal Park in Chikwawa. Thomas was in Blantyre for the day as well, so he joined me, our guest Rose Haraba and Maxwell, who was eager to drive. We set off in a light rain, with confidence that as we drove down to the lower Shire that the clouds would clear. We were correct. As we started the descent on the winding road, each turn brought a better view of the landscape and clearer skies. We could see the charcoal venders along the side of the road. Thomas said he had promised Terse, my housekeeper, that he would get her charcoal, since it is cheaper in the rural areas. I said we couldn’t do for one staff member and not the others, so I would buy for each of the staff on the way back. Maxwell was thrilled. But this introduced a discussion of other goods that are available at a good price in the lower Shire, a fertile growing area. Suddenly the trip had changed from sightseeing to shopping, but on the way back, they promised.



Giraffe inspecting the car



Nyala is a small animal park located on the Illovo Sugar Plantation. It is small in the physical size and small in the animals’ sizes – antelope, zebra, giraffe and monkeys mostly. I was the only one who had been there before, so there was great enthusiasm for the sighting of animals. I drove through the park, since I know the roads. Maxwell and Thomas took advantage of the sunroof of the car by opening it and standing with their heads out to get a better view of the animals. They took the pictures from their enhanced vantage point.  Rose sat in the front with me, delighted to have such a close view of the animals she had only seen in pictures before. The animals were cooperative and poised for us in the middle of the road at some points, just a few feet from the car.



Thomas negotiating



This was meant to be the high point of the trip and we did enjoy it, but the real delight came as we started back to Blantyre and Thomas began his negotiations with vendors all the way up the mountain. The roadside shopping commenced just a few kilometers outside the park when we stopped for maize – corn – on the cob. There were some women at the side of the road with stalks of maize. They rushed to the car as we pulled over. Thomas jumped out and engaged them in conversation, as if he had known them all his life. After about 5 minutes of discussions, he motioned for Maxwell to open the back of the car and the ladies dumped an arm full of cobs into the car. Thomas climbed in, waving to the ladies, everyone satisfied with the transaction. At the market area at the foot of the mountain we stopped again. Here the car was swarmed by vendors with all sorts of produce. The main objective was to buy small birds on a stick, a delicacy, from Thomas’ and Maxwell’s perspective. Rose was enthused for the purchase as well. I asked Thomas to negotiate for bananas, a much safer food, from my perspective. Most of the vendors moved to the back of the car with Thomas, but one persisted in ask me to buy her papayas. We finally agreed on a price and I sent her to Thomas for payment. When he finished his business, we had 10 sticks of birds, a bunch of bananas, 4 papaya, and a bag of masawu, small berries, for Maxwell’s wife. Negotiating takes time. These transactions took about half an hour.



Thomas and Maxwell with
the purchases



As we climbed the mountain, we inspected the charcoal sellers. Thomas indicated one place for Maxwell to pull over. He got out and negotiated for some time but then got back in the car. The prices were too high. We moved on to one further up the mountain. We were looking for 4 bags, one for each of my staff members and one for Thomas’ sisters. After ten minutes of discussions, he decided to buy two there, since the seller had come down in price, but not as much as he wished. But Maxwell had found brooms that he was very pleased with. The produce was moved to the back seat and the charcoal and brooms placed in the back of the car.  Further up the mountain, Thomas spotted another vendor he thought looked like he would negotiate well and we pulled over. This one was willing to come to a better price, but the problem was that he had no change. I had run out of small bills and all I had were the new MK1,000 notes. That is too large a bill for a small roadside vendor, but Thomas didn’t let that stop the transaction. He flagged down a passing car and asked the driver if he might have change for MK1,000. He did. Thomas finished the negotiations with the vendors and carefully closed the tailgate of the car. The back was loaded with charcoal. As we proceeded up the mountain, Thomas regaled us with details of the lives of all the folks he had negotiated with, including the gentleman in the car who gave him change. In the midst of his negotiation, he had made a point to make the conversations personal. While this is Malawian, it is also Thomas, my social son, who can turn a purchase into a social contact and an opportunity to witness. From his perspective, the negotiations were the joy of the trip. From Maxwell’s the purchases themselves were. From Rose’s it was the animals. From mine, it was the fun of watching all of this unfold around the car.

Bad Dog Bruce

Bruce, the bad dog, has struck – again. Bruce is supposed to be our watch dog, but the only thing he seems good at watching for is trouble to get into. His favorite thing is pulling clean clothes off the wash line and dragging them through the dust or enticing his companion Diesel to play “tug of war” with the clothing – baby’s diapers, skirts, bras or hand crochet doilies. He is not fussy. His next most favorite thing is digging. He was a Houdini at digging his way out of his fenced enclosure, until he got too big. Now he entertains himself digging up whatever Maxwell, the gardener, plants.



Bad Dog Bruce



Last Monday, Maxwell got some cuttings of Pampas Grass to serve as a border along the walk and along the fence. He planted along the walk first. His plan was to compost the area around the fence and then plant it the next day. He was very proud of the walkway planting. It did look nice. Tuesday morning about 7 a.m. Maxwell impatiently knocked at the front door. When I opened it, he demanded that I come out and see what “my” dog had done to his newly planted walkway. When he is bad, Bruce is “my” dog. Every new plant had been dug up and more holes added to the path. I suppressed a smile as I reminded him that this was the dog that he had begged me for for months and had promised that he would care for him because we needed the security of a dog. He sneered that the only thing that dog secured were holes, and he walked away. He was not claiming ownership of such a bad dog. He spent the day replanting the pathway and working on the fence area. By dinner time the replanting and new planting were complete. Amos, the watchman, was given firm instructions by Maxwell to keep Bruce out of the gardens when he was turned loose to “guard” the area after dark. Amos just smiled and nodded. He would do his best.



Amos and Maxwell building the fence



Wednesday morning the insistent knock came again. Bruce had ignored the walkway but had started on the area in front of the fence. Amos had stopped him, but only after he had dug up half the row. I suggested that maybe Maxwell needed to fence the area, until the plants had taken root and matured to the point that they were no longer of interest to Bruce. Maxwell’s face brightened as he envisioned a fence. By lunch time he and Amos had the materials and by dinner the bamboo fence was erected. He and Amos were certain that it would stop the digging. I was hopeful, but not as certain. But they had a plan. Amos kept one of the bamboo stocks and used it as a rod, a deterrent any time Bruce came close to the fence during the night. Bruce soon lost interest in the plants and went looking of other trouble to get into.

All was quiet the rest of the week. This morning, as I left for church, Bruce scooted past Amos and out the gate as I was driving out. This afternoon when I returned, Amos greeted me with a question. Had I gotten a rooster that I had not told him about?  I said no and asked why. He said when he captured Bruce this morning there was a rooster with him in the yard. Amos had put it in the empty pen we have in the back yard, to keep Bruce from eating it. It seems that in his brief escape from the yard, Bruce had stolen a rooster. He had chased it into the yard, planning it for his dinner, I’m sure.. As I write this, Amos has taken the rooster and is searching for its owner. Bad Dog Bruce is in his encloser. He has struck again.

The Container

From time to time International partners of the Synod send shipping containers of donated goods for use by various ministries within the Synod. The arrival of one of these containers is always a big event. One arrived from Australia this week and there was a great flurry of activity and excitement.

This particular container, 40 feet long, was shipped before Easter. We have been anticipating its arrival. But the process is always a bit complicated. Malawi is a land locked country so that sea containers arrive in ports in Mozambique usually, are offloaded to waiting trucks and then are hauled to Malawi. At the border, they are met by customs agents and Malawi Revenue Authority (MRA) agents and escorted to the shipping terminal in Blantyre, where their accompanying paper are inspected and cleared. They are then hauled to their destination but cannot be opened until the MRA officials are present to inspect the contents, to be certain that they match what has been declared. It can take a week or more from the time the container arrives in Malawi until it is delivered to its destination. Once there, it cannot be opened until the MRA’s agents are present. We knew the container was in Blantyre. We were just waiting. It arrived on Monday morning about 9 a.m. Everyone gathered – the labors who would unload the container, the two Australians who are here in residences and had helped to load the container, members of the Partnership committee who are responsible for these international connections, the Synod staff from departments that were to receive contents, and those who were just curious to see what was going on. I was there as part of Partnership and as one whose department (Chigodi) was to receive some of the boxes. Everyone was there except the MRA folks. Our liaison from the Partnership called them. They were coming. When they hadn’t arrived by noon, we called again. They said they would be there after lunch, so we all took a lunch break, to gather back at 1:30 p.m.

My friends from the partnership were at a disadvantage because they had not planned for lunch, so I invited them to my house, along with the Australian couple and a friend of theirs. We were seven in all for a “potluck” lunch. It was great time of storytelling and culture sharing. We were back at the site at 1:30, but the MRA agents weren’t. We called again about 2:30 p.m. and they said they were coming. They arrived at 3, took one look at the container and said there was not enough time to unload it. They didn’t realize (for some reason) that it was a 40’ trailer. They were expecting a 20’ container and this would take too much time. They would come back on Tuesday at 8 a.m. So we all went home, more than a bit disappointed.



Beginning the unlaoding



Tuesday the MRA agents were as good as their word and were here at 8 a.m. along with the shipping agent, who is a CCAP member. The crowd of onlookers from the day before had grown, so there was a throng to witness the opening. John, from Australia, had the honor of sawing off the lock to open it, while the MRA agents sat in chairs that had been provided for them and watched the proceedings. There was a great cheer when the locks came off and the door was opened. The container was packed from floor to ceiling, front to back with boxes – small, medium, large, and irregular shaped, all hand packed and labeled by church members in Australia with great care. They contained medical supplies, sewing materials, books, used clothing, bolts of cloth, mechanics’ tools, filing cabinets. The list seemed as endless as the boxes did. A relay line was formed and the boxes were handed down from the trailer to men who shuffled them to various piles around the trailer, according to the labels – Synod, Zomba, Chigodi, Orbis Project, BSHDC, Mulanje Hospital, Education Department. The MRA agents just sat and watched. Finally they asked to examine one of the smaller boxes that was marked for Chigodi. I was called over to witness the opening. They opened a box marked “wool.” Inside were 20 skeins of yarn. The MRA agents closed the box and handed it back, without saying a word. They seemed disappointed. About 5 minutes later, they got up and left. The container was not even half unloaded. The shipping agent then came over and explained that the MRA agents waited Monday, hinting that they should receive payment to NOT come to the site. He told them he was not authorized by the church to make any payments. The church doesn’t function that way. Then they said they needed to be there since sometimes people try to sneak cars into the country in containers marked otherwise.  He assured them this was coming from honest people. Then they wanted to see the small box because they said that people sometimes ship money in boxes marked otherwise. They asserted that from their experience, people are dishonest. That is why everything was delayed. My Australian friends and I just shook our heads and continued to unload the container.



Moving Synod boxes to storage



The container was emptied in about 2 ½ hours, with 20 young “porters” shuttling boxes and creating large piles. But the job was not done. The piles had to be moved to secure locations. The Synod’s boxes were moved to two storerooms, making way for a large Synod truck to be moved into place to load the various other piles and transport them to their secure storage until they could be unpacked. Chigodi’s 208 boxes were the first to be moved. They came to my garage until they can be moved to Chigodi. This involved loading them on the large truck, driving them to my house and unloading them into the garage. This was a great deal of handling of each box, from container to pile to truck to garage. Some opened from the rough handling.  Maxwell was there to greet us and to supervise the unloading and storing in the garage. He and the Chigodi representative from accounting watched carefully to be certain that the young porters did not help themselves to any content that might ”fall” out of boxes that were now not as securely closed. I would never have thought of that. Both said that people are not always honest with goods like these. They need to be watched carefully. Maybe the MRA agents were right. The same process happened with the stacks for all the other locations. The Synod truck made four such trips that day. The last of the piles was loaded on a truck from Zomba about 4 in the afternoon headed back to Zomba. The goods had been received. Now the fun begins as we distribute the contents to those for whom they were so generously intended. The goodness of international friends is sometimes overwhelming and greatly appreciated.