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A letter from Charlotte Gott in Malawi |
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January 1, 2005
Greetings,
It is New Year’s Eve in Mulanje, it is hot and sticky,
and there is no water. Yesterday, Sue and I arrived home after
our three-week holiday to Italy and fell back into our routine
of taking cold showers at the hospital, which, fortunately, has
a different water source than the staff housing. Although I was
glad to have some source of water, I was in less-of-a-chirpy
mood than Sue about returning to the frustrations of Malawi, after
plenty of hot water, constant power and a ready source of cheese
and gelato for some weeks.
We were to return to Africa Christmas night, but we were bumped
from our flight through Addis Ababa, and were transported to a
nearby hotel along with a 20-something Ethiopian male whose first
trip outside of Ethiopia involved a trip to Moscow to audit the
books for the embassy there. He was a university-educated accountant,
living on $70.00 a month and supporting ten people in his household.
We took him with us into Rome the next day for a tour he would
never have managed without us. We also spent a day in Addis Ababa
where we befriended a Tanzanian woman at our hotel who was ill,
only spoke Swahili and French, and needed a trip to the local
hospital. Sue’s fluent French, with minimal help from me,
and our combined medical knowledge, assisted this lady to prepare
to fly on to Paris to visit her daughter. When we finally boarded
our flight for Malawi, it was clear to us that God had had a reason
for our delay.
I arrived at the hospital with rosaries for my Catholic acquaintances
and chocolate bars for others. Although Malawians generally don’t
care for typical azungu (white people) food, I have discovered
that chocolate has a universal appeal, even on the first try.
However, not far into my chocolate delivery, I was stopped with
an urgent appeal to collect our 82-year-old gardener, Mr. Piriyot,
who, according to his grandson, was very ill. |
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"It is hard work being a spectacle. However, where there
is a language barrier, children are the easiest to communicate
with. Children have immense patience and they are extremely amused
with teaching an adult something that comes naturally to them.
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Sue has a little Toyota, with no
power steering, no four-wheel drive, and which is so low to the
ground that we are constantly replacing parts of the exhaust system.
Our dirt roads are treacherous, and in the rainy season (now), it
is even worse because the downpour creates new gullies. The grandson
directed me to Mr. Piriyot’s village. I find that many Malawians,
who generally do not have cars, often attribute supernatural powers
to any car to which they gain access. In other words, while you
are staring at a gushing ravine in the downpour, you are assured
that it is no problem to cross in your mite-sized car. These assurances
continued while I persisted in the possibility that he bring his
grandfather by bicycle to the car parked as close as possible to
his grandfather’s house. After three attempts to get to the
house, the last down a road that quickly turned into a path, I backed
up to turn around in a field. I was careful not to injure any of
the maize or the villagers who congregated en masse to admire my
skill maneuvering the car in the mud. |
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I instructed the grandson that
he had half an hour to get his grandfather to my car, with the
knowledge that (1) he did not have a watch and (2) time is not
money in Malawi. There is little awareness of the passage of time
in a country where few know their age. So he left me. By then,
it had stopped raining, it was steaming hot, and I had about 20
villagers standing around me, laughing with the unexpected arrival
of the alendo (stranger). Malawians, however, are extremely hospitable
people and out came the chair (probably the only chair), which
was placed in the shade. There was much hilarity as we tried to
communicate, and once the adults and older children left to do
their work, the younger children lined up around me to stare.
It is hard work being a spectacle. However, where there is a
language barrier, children are the easiest to communicate with.
There is always the “high five” you can teach them,
which evokes massive giggling. Then there is the language game.
They teach you the body parts in their language; you teach them
in yours. Children have immense patience and they are extremely
amused with teaching an adult something that comes naturally to
them. Before long, I saw the grandson returning with Mr. Piriyot,
sitting on the back of a bicycle. We helped him into the car,
I thanked the villagers who gathered around to say goodbye, and
off we went to the hospital. I felt renewed by the simple sweetness
of this encounter.
As I type this during an approaching storm, there is a huge crash,
an alarming flash of light, and the light bulb pops. I may be
ringing in the New Year with a cold shower and no power, but I
am optimistic. Whereas I left three weeks ago frustrated with
Malawi and my ability to contribute, I have experienced a few
reminders that God is always at work in everything. He manages
to work through airport delays and trips in the mud. While I question
my own abilities, I have seen, once again, how God can make anything
possible, and sometimes through slightly quirky methods.
Happy New Year,
Charlotte
The 2005 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.
337 |
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