Did I tell you I scored!! Yes I did. And against Dedza too. Ntcheu versus Dedza, when we were one nil down and desperately needed that equaliser to avoid humiliation from our neighbours. That’s the goal I scored. Partly fluke of course, but not all of it! Since then I’ve been elevated to striker status in our boys’ club cum drinking brigade of socialites of Ntcheu. It’s such a treat! Such a unique window into another facet of Malawian life. The single muzungu in the group. The single muzungu in all of our games so far. Maybe that’s part of the reason why I thrive in them. Nobody from the opposing teams seems to know what to expect from this different guy. Is he just gonna be a lame foot dragger lacking their physical endurance, or will he dazzle them with some illustrious technicality? I can’t be my own critique but I’m sure it’s less of any of the above than a pure joy and enthusiasm to be playing football in a team again.
At the last game, I didn’t score. Didn’t really get much of a chance to either. My legs couldn’t run, and worse even, turn as they had built up quite a concentration of lactic acid from the previous night’s excesses and had been sat stiff on a minibus for a couple of hours in the morning, getting to the venue. We were playing away at Mvera against the soldiers at the army barracks. What are the chances of a ‘zungu’ rubbing shoulders with such guys as he goes by his daily routine in Malawi? I got access past the ‘strictly on business’ armed-guard access gate and had an intimate view of the soldiers’ living compounds and training grounds. The game was uneventful, save one disallowed goal for our team, which I served the pass to, and a (goalless) corner that every single spectator made sure they congratulated me on! The camaraderie was overwhelming throughout, in the true spirit of a friendly. Our hosts were overjoyed to have us among them, especially after coming from so far. They staged an exquisite gathering at the soldiers’ mess, sparing no effort to turn it into a fit spectacle for such distinguished guests. We boast a number of figures among our team, who would attract significant respect from the average Malawian: the DEHO (district environmental health officer), the hospital administrator, the district educational officer, a few policemen and myself, a doctor! The soldiers had a full PA system, complete with MC on the mic. In a way we were all relieved when the game was over, as we could switch into full social mode at last. We ate and drank to our hearts’ content. Maybe a bit less to my vegetarian one. Even though I will quite happily cheat at times here, when there’s nothing but chicken on the menu, that day I would stay well away. I was to witness a side of the Malawian diet not usually indicated on restaurant menus. They eat everything from the animal. I mean everything. Okay maybe not the hair and bone (excluding the delicious marrow inside that they make sure to suck well dry!). But there they were digging their gnashers into the fatty piece of cow leg, with the skin still on... and loving it! You could see the knee joint and the foot pads on some of them. Respect! Each to their own. Better than our decadent waste of food in the west anyway I say.
The next item on the menu (if you still dare to follow) is the local brew. It’s sold in a carton with the sign ‘shake shake’ on it. Ominous! Once you open it, your first reaction to its potent vapour will be a tearful turning of the head to catch your breath. The liquid is a murky suspension of fermented corn mash, with some other bits in. It is a truly acquired taste, which I’m yet to know of a ‘zungu’ having acquired. ‘Vomit’ is the usual condescending comparison that they come up with. But then that’s also how I felt the first time I tasted beer in England. That didn’t stop me from going back over and over again till I developed such terms as nectar, hoppy, peachy and herby to refer to it. Everyone drank it, so it had to be good. The same must go for Chibuku I’m sure, if that’s the main beverage on offer as you make your first steps into manhood here. Indeed, a few of my Chibuku-drinking pals would confirm this for me here. The best anecdote is this one from my friend who would occasionally guard his uncle’s bottlestore at the ripe age of 15. He would get some hollow needles from the bushes which he would then stick in the corner of a carton and sip whatever liquid porridge would come out. He passed out on it the first few times until the taste simply became natural and now he doesn’t even bat an eyelid as he downs the stuff. I dare Guinness to match this drink in their slogan “a meal in a drink”!
We stayed on at the barracks way beyond our expected leaving time, secondary to the feeding pressure that our hosts kept exerting on us. We had to stay for the pork and goat braai before we were allowed to leave as dusk was already closing in. Grrrrreat! Now we’d have a bunch of drunken drivers who would be driving in the dark too! Thankfully I went with the least drunk driver and eventually joined the vehicle with the dedicated non-drinking driver as my first driver decided he hadn’t had enough and broke his journey with another sneaky few by a roadside tavern. That is sadly a very real issue in Malawi. Drunk-driving is a common cause of road traffic accidents and deaths. Even the policemen, as in our group, do it liberally and you hardly ever find anyone being stopped for it. Maybe the poorly armed traffic police are afraid of assaults from the disinhibited drunks, I don’t know. But many drivers, including ‘zungus’, simply take advantage of this free ticket to nirvana, while being at their steering wheels. So much for the catchy road safety slogan around here that goes “arrive alive”, which is really funny as Malawians often get their ‘r’ and ‘l’ mixed up and what comes out is one of the three: “allive alive” or “arrive arive” or “allive arive”! Anyway, I reached home alive after a 4 hour drive, punctuated by a highly unfortunate chibuku vomiting incident (imagine the stink: vomit to the power of 2!)
So, in a nutshell, that’s what it’s like hanging with the ‘Socials’. Twice to three times weekly training and maybe once or twice a month we’ll stage a match up with another town, alternating home and away. The whole mixed with food and drinks and pool and many good laughs. To me the spirit of this social club is a true celebration of human affinity for fellow humans. Where there are no cinemas and bowling alleys and beer/food festivals to entertain one every single weekend, gatherings like our do take on that special importance which make football worth playing and life slightly more worth living. You don’t have to drink of course as some more self-restrained members of our crew do!
11 August 2010
9 August 2010
Preparing for Madam
A royal treat
I might have mentioned that Malawians have a somewhat determined way of going about their cleaning. Statement not judgement. It’s an almost impossible ritual to understand for mere zungus like me here. They get up early every morning and sweep the dusty grounds and paths around their house, lifting a dustcloud that could instantly kill a cystic fribotic! This redistributes the soil for a couple of hours at most before it turns back to its former state. They also subject the floors at work to a daily round of energetic mopping, while other modes of basic sanitation are often overlooked (no soap by the taps; theatres cluttered with infection pools; often run out of antiseptic solutions and sterile gloves etc). Furthermore, since bins are hardly ever used/available here, this ritual becomes necessary to prevent a pile up of debris from the patients and visitors.
Lately however, the ritual has been scaled up to unprecedented heights. The rate of mopping has at least doubled. Nooks and crannies that weren’t being reached before are now getting their long awaited scrub. Termite-infested beams are being replaced. Each air vent in the walls is being individually cleaned to a sparkle. On top of that, the whole building and grounds of the hospital are being revamped. Painting here, there and everywhere. Even the potholes have been filled!! And what do we owe this surge of polishing to? Well, it will be one linked to the highly anticipated visit from none other than our brand new first lady! I wonder what the preparations would have been, had it been the president himself showing up here! This visit falls under the umbrella of a wider breast-feeding and maternal health campaign. Not surprising then that only maternity ward gets the full upgrade while other wards, only a superficial one with potential losses to pay for maternity. New sofas, new bed linen, new coat of paint and all just for maternity. I’m not against maternity you know, but what about paeds for example? And the others?!
Ironically, there’s also been a repainting of some signs in the hospital, which boasts a child-friendly policy, whereby no outside drinks are allowed in so mothers can breastfeed freely. There’s a ubiquitous picture of a woman breast-feeding on the hospital walls, which I always found quite amusing as it looked like the woman (man!) had only 1 breast. They attacked this photograph with an unleashed zeal to change it and I thought it was because of my perceived amusement at them. However the real reason came later as I was told that the woman (man!) was not looking at the baby and had to be altered. The fact that she (he!!) had only one breast, for its part, remained unaltered!
So, on Thursday, there was a distinctly palpable sense of excitement in the air in Ntcheu. Nobody wanted to say it but it was there to be read on their faces: “what’s this year’s calendar highlight got in store for me?” Management were getting their knickers all tied up in a twist, not sure what the best way to impress her highness would be. Not less since ministry officials would be spotted a least a week in advance around the hospital grounds doing spot checks and cracking the whip at this and that. So among other things, they asked for all the long-burnt out fluorescent light tubes to be replaced (bearing in mind that Her Highness’ visit would be taking place during broad daylight hours!). All the little bricks that go around the trees in the hospital yard also got dealt a new and tasteless coat of white paint. The original natural appearance was by far more attractive, especially as it did not involve unsightly spillages of white stuff on all these beautiful plants and the grass. The ultimate tribute to this great celebration came in probably the most prestigious form, according to Malawian custom- the issue of new commemorative chitenjis! Everyone is claiming theirs already. Such a cheap easy way to win an electorate- free tshirts and printed rectangular cloths! All style. No substance.
Unfortunately (?thankfully) I was not present when the auspicious event finally materialised on Friday, as I had to dash to Lilongwe before the crack of dawn to deliver a lecture at the physio dept training. But I sought active feedback on the outcome of the visit, slightly deeper than the customary “it went well” Malawian reply! She spent a couple of hours around the village health centres, being entertained to some traditional dances (not exactly breastfeeding related but hey!) and gave some Mk75000 to the best performance. As for the hospital, the visit lasted an impressive half-hour! She spent most of it on the new sofas in maternity ward and paraded around the shiny-floored, brightly-lit corridors only for as long as it took to get there from the main entrance. No pledges were made to upgrade the hospital, obviously since it looked like we were doing extremely well already. I wonder if that’s the reason why politicians here (and worldwide) always seem to think they’re doing a great job. Everything gets sorted to an impressive (hmm misleading) perfection every time they turn up, and as soon as they leave, all the mess, squeezed tight in those cupboards, spills back out in its ugly unsightliness again! I wonder how long it will be till Ntcheu’s natural beat of indifference resumes...
PS: unfortunately no photos for now as I've lost my camera recently. Will try and rectify soon (as I go round "borrowing" from my friends!)
I might have mentioned that Malawians have a somewhat determined way of going about their cleaning. Statement not judgement. It’s an almost impossible ritual to understand for mere zungus like me here. They get up early every morning and sweep the dusty grounds and paths around their house, lifting a dustcloud that could instantly kill a cystic fribotic! This redistributes the soil for a couple of hours at most before it turns back to its former state. They also subject the floors at work to a daily round of energetic mopping, while other modes of basic sanitation are often overlooked (no soap by the taps; theatres cluttered with infection pools; often run out of antiseptic solutions and sterile gloves etc). Furthermore, since bins are hardly ever used/available here, this ritual becomes necessary to prevent a pile up of debris from the patients and visitors.
Lately however, the ritual has been scaled up to unprecedented heights. The rate of mopping has at least doubled. Nooks and crannies that weren’t being reached before are now getting their long awaited scrub. Termite-infested beams are being replaced. Each air vent in the walls is being individually cleaned to a sparkle. On top of that, the whole building and grounds of the hospital are being revamped. Painting here, there and everywhere. Even the potholes have been filled!! And what do we owe this surge of polishing to? Well, it will be one linked to the highly anticipated visit from none other than our brand new first lady! I wonder what the preparations would have been, had it been the president himself showing up here! This visit falls under the umbrella of a wider breast-feeding and maternal health campaign. Not surprising then that only maternity ward gets the full upgrade while other wards, only a superficial one with potential losses to pay for maternity. New sofas, new bed linen, new coat of paint and all just for maternity. I’m not against maternity you know, but what about paeds for example? And the others?!
Ironically, there’s also been a repainting of some signs in the hospital, which boasts a child-friendly policy, whereby no outside drinks are allowed in so mothers can breastfeed freely. There’s a ubiquitous picture of a woman breast-feeding on the hospital walls, which I always found quite amusing as it looked like the woman (man!) had only 1 breast. They attacked this photograph with an unleashed zeal to change it and I thought it was because of my perceived amusement at them. However the real reason came later as I was told that the woman (man!) was not looking at the baby and had to be altered. The fact that she (he!!) had only one breast, for its part, remained unaltered!
So, on Thursday, there was a distinctly palpable sense of excitement in the air in Ntcheu. Nobody wanted to say it but it was there to be read on their faces: “what’s this year’s calendar highlight got in store for me?” Management were getting their knickers all tied up in a twist, not sure what the best way to impress her highness would be. Not less since ministry officials would be spotted a least a week in advance around the hospital grounds doing spot checks and cracking the whip at this and that. So among other things, they asked for all the long-burnt out fluorescent light tubes to be replaced (bearing in mind that Her Highness’ visit would be taking place during broad daylight hours!). All the little bricks that go around the trees in the hospital yard also got dealt a new and tasteless coat of white paint. The original natural appearance was by far more attractive, especially as it did not involve unsightly spillages of white stuff on all these beautiful plants and the grass. The ultimate tribute to this great celebration came in probably the most prestigious form, according to Malawian custom- the issue of new commemorative chitenjis! Everyone is claiming theirs already. Such a cheap easy way to win an electorate- free tshirts and printed rectangular cloths! All style. No substance.
Unfortunately (?thankfully) I was not present when the auspicious event finally materialised on Friday, as I had to dash to Lilongwe before the crack of dawn to deliver a lecture at the physio dept training. But I sought active feedback on the outcome of the visit, slightly deeper than the customary “it went well” Malawian reply! She spent a couple of hours around the village health centres, being entertained to some traditional dances (not exactly breastfeeding related but hey!) and gave some Mk75000 to the best performance. As for the hospital, the visit lasted an impressive half-hour! She spent most of it on the new sofas in maternity ward and paraded around the shiny-floored, brightly-lit corridors only for as long as it took to get there from the main entrance. No pledges were made to upgrade the hospital, obviously since it looked like we were doing extremely well already. I wonder if that’s the reason why politicians here (and worldwide) always seem to think they’re doing a great job. Everything gets sorted to an impressive (hmm misleading) perfection every time they turn up, and as soon as they leave, all the mess, squeezed tight in those cupboards, spills back out in its ugly unsightliness again! I wonder how long it will be till Ntcheu’s natural beat of indifference resumes...
PS: unfortunately no photos for now as I've lost my camera recently. Will try and rectify soon (as I go round "borrowing" from my friends!)
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