Chifue, Chifine

Chifue (Chee-foo-aye) = cough

Chifine (Chee-fee-naye) = runny nose

I've had both for the past week, which may explain the lack of recent blog posts. No worries, I am on the mend, and even scored a couple of times at frisbee the other day.

Despite the head cold, I've been fully able to appreciate the sensory experiences that Lilongwe has to offer.

SOUNDS:

I awaken every morning to the chirping of birds, and the "squuuuuaaaaaaaaccck" of this huge black and white raven-looking bird that seems to be the pigeon of Malawi. I wonder if Grandpa George would call it a raven or a crow, since I have no idea which side of the Mississippi we are on. Mohammed called it something like kwangwa, or maybe I am just making that up since that is sort of what it sounds like. At night I go to bed to the sound of crickets and a symphony of dog barking that starts at one end of the neighborhood and waves its way around and around until I guess they all get tired, or realize that they aren't really barking at anything at all. Today I found out that Clare (my dog) can howl in perfect harmony with a car alarm. Turns out she has a lovely voice :) Occasionally I hear the whining protests of Kelvin, the almost 2 year old rotund little boy who is Mohammed and Matilda's younger son, who appears to have quite a developed sense of right and wrong.

SIGHTS:

The earth is brick red and dusty. Succulents and tropical vines grow side by side. Purple, pink and red flowers are just starting to bloom on barren trees (yes, it is winter here, despite temperatures in the 70s). Women come to clinic draped in three of four different layers of chitenje, the traditional brightly colored block-printed cloth that is used to strap babies on their backs . The girls on the other hand (from infants to teens) wear their best outfits to come to the doctor, so it feels like the prom every day, with ruffles, bows, gauzy fabric, and occasionally tap-shoes. The air is hazy and grey from the smoke of burning fields and garbage fires (see SMELLS). Every night the sun sets as a flaming crimson orb sending out florescent pink tendrils into the tangerine sky. Pollution makes for some pretty amazing sunsets.

SMELLS:

This should probably should have been the first category, as the smells are probably the most striking sensory experience here. Mostly there is the smokey, rich, earthy smell of fires. This time of year, fields are burned in preparation of the rains and planting season. The organic smoke mingles with the slightly acrid smell of burning trash in pits on the sides of the roads, and the turpentine smell of diesel fuel. The most amazing smell is the B.O. It is beyond onions, or sweaty socks, or unshaven French girls, or anything I have ever smelled before. I don't know if it is something in the diet, or the fact that most people seem to wear the same clothes for days and days in a row (due to lack of something else to wear, or resources to wash clothes, or a genetic mutation that doesn't register the sebaceous gland emanations, or what), but none of the locals seem to notice. Meanwhile I am choking back a cough and rushing to open a window. Then yesterday, my friend Carrie came into the room where I was seeing a patient and said "did you check her ear, because it smells like it is draining". Sure enough, she was right.

TASTES:

Malawian cuisine is nothing to write home about. Nsima (see-ma) is the staple food of locals, which is finely ground maize meal made into a polenta-like substance and eaten in enormous mounds with a garnish of chicken or vegetables. Fish is plentiful, due to our proximity to Lake Malawi, and when eaten fried, is called chambo but I haven't tried it yet. My housekeeper Mohammed makes me dinner everynight, the highlight of which has been homemade chapati's (basically flour tortillas) and refried red beans, made with tomatoes, onions and fresh herbs. He also made the left-over chapatis into pizza, with spicy tomato chutney, bacon, and veggies. Yum! I showed him the one cookbook I brought with (Molly Katzen's Vegetable Heaven) and he was immediately engrossed. That night he made potato and chard soup. However, I think I need to give him a few pointers on the finer points of medium rare, as most of the meat has come out tasting a bit like leather. Perhaps he is just protecting my mazungo stomach from the local critters? Today's treat was straciatella gelato, from the italian cafe. Delish. The main thing that I can't seem to find in the grocery stores here is good chocolate (preferably of the dark variety, if anybody happens to be sending any mail to Malawi...)

FEELINGS:

The air here is heavy with smoke and dust, but is almost always perfect body temperature. Whether I am wearing a t-shirt or a cashmere sweater, I always feel comfortable. At night my favorite thing is to put on a certain pair of brightly striped handmade socks. My shower has astonishing water pressure and the bath gets so hot it is like being in a hot-tub (which is especially nice after frisbee). When I get home at the end of the day, Clare bounds up to greet me and tries to give me a tongue bath, which I politely decline, even though her tongue is soft and her breath doesn't smell. I feel happy to be here and it increasingly feels like home. I feel overwhelmed by the amount of disease and poverty, but optimistic about actually being able to do something to help. I am finally starting to not feel tired all the time (N.B. I did not say that I feel rested) which may have something to do with going to bed at 9:30 every night. I don't feel lonely at all, but I miss my friends and my family and especially my grandparents. So stay in touch!!