Here is part of an email I received from someone named Steve Banda:
I have read your blog with a smile though sad. It was really job well done and please keep it up.
Malawi needs people like you as you know the country is big, so you only took time-out in Central part of it, please try to come back as the doors are wide open for you.
I listened to your interview with DJ KMM or Paul Ncozana and one voice clip which reveals there's large number of people who don't know what HIV or AIDS is all about.....I'm concern we Malawians don't do enough to educate our own siblings of the epidemic...which for years has been a ruthless predator.
Thanks for choosing Malawi.
Lack of knowledge of this virus is definitely not unique to Malawi, but the radio clip and comments I've received do make me wonder, how comfortable do you - Radio Yako's listeners - feel about either asking or answering HIV/AIDS-related questions within your families and communities?
Please share!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Interview with Radio Yako
Welcome Radio Yako listeners, and thank you so much for visiting this blog. Today's interview was the first of several with Paul Ncozana, and I look forward to hearing your voices, either here or via email (stein.kathryn@gmail.com).
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Thembi's death
Maybe you knew about this already, but I just found out this morning. Thembi Ngubane, the South African Radio Diarist who spoke so candidly and beautifully about her life with HIV/AIDS, died of drug resistant TB earlier this month. She died within a few days of diagnosis. Thembi was 24 years old, and such a powerful advocate.
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=105017959
I learned about her for the first time last fall, and was hooked. I emailed the link to friends, shared it on Facebook, and listened many times during this past year when I felt like I needed to hear her again.
http://www.radiodiaries.org/aidsdiary/index.html
TB is the number one killer of people with HIV. Here you can watch James Nachtwey's slideshow and take action in the fight against XDRTB:
http://xdrtb.org/
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Here in North Carolina, there's a woman named Vimala Rajendran who opens her home to the community each Wednesday, cooking traditional Indian food for all who stop by. There's a donation jar, and the money often goes toward a cause, organization, or family. If you go, plan to stay, but bring tupperware because you'll want leftovers.
http://www.indyweek.com/gyrobase/Content?oid=oid%3A354663
I finally made it for the first time last night, and listen to this. When a friend introduced us and Vimala heard that I focused on child-headed households and HIV/AIDS in Malawi, she immediately suggested we organize an event to raise money for the people I met there. "We'll make African food - oh samosas! you ate samosas on every street corner, right? - and you can do a slideshow." Nsima with "relish" should definitely be on the menu. According to Malawians, anything else is just a snack.
http://www.indyweek.com/gyrobase/Content?oid=oid%3A354663
I finally made it for the first time last night, and listen to this. When a friend introduced us and Vimala heard that I focused on child-headed households and HIV/AIDS in Malawi, she immediately suggested we organize an event to raise money for the people I met there. "We'll make African food - oh samosas! you ate samosas on every street corner, right? - and you can do a slideshow." Nsima with "relish" should definitely be on the menu. According to Malawians, anything else is just a snack.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Some of my favorite memories from this trip are those times when I handed my equipment over. A few people were hesitant to use my camera, but most loved it, as did their friends and neighbors. One teen in Mitundu immediately took off with it, a trail of kids behind him, and took great photos of village life that I would've been too shy to attempt. It was sweet how they wanted to show each picture once they learned how. Other times I'd stick the headphones on one kid and a mic or two in the hands of another during a recording. One time I spoke with two sisters in their 20s, orphaned and both, along with several other family members, infected with HIV. When we were done, I asked if they wanted listen to their interviews, something I rarely did, and had difficulty pressing stop about 25 minutes later.
Tisa
The interview I edited today was with a 14 year old who lives in the Mitundu area with her grandmother and three younger siblings. Her mother passed away suddenly (collapsed while washing clothes, died that same night) when she was ten and her father died of pneumonia (she remembers him crying out in pain one night, and that he died after two weeks in far away hospital). Tisa goes to school three days a week and does piecework (temporary fieldwork) the other two days so that her family will have enough to eat. She was 2nd in her class of 32 students last term. When her mother was alive, she would sometimes buy the children clothes. Her father always encouraged education. She said that she will be able to face life's challenges if she can finish school.
I asked about HIV education in her school. Weekly focus groups, coed, where students discuss an assigned topic and ask the teacher for help as needed. She said that both girls and boys feel comfortable asking anything in these sessions, and that she’s never asked a question because she knows everything about HIV. If she does have a question, is there someone with whom she can speak in private? Her voice changes. “No, there is nobody.” Listening back today, I wonder what message I sent by following up a bit but not providing any good suggestions.
She mentioned that she didn’t have a uniform or school shoes and that, for the third year in a row, she and her siblings don’t have a blanket. Nights can be near freezing during Malawi’s winter months. Tisa and her siblings sleep in a sack and their chitenge (cloth) and their grandmother in her jersey. She estimated that shoes would cost 800 kwacha, slightly over $5, and I knew that a blanket was 1500 kwacha, roughly $10. Her calm and respectful request for assistance was met by awkwardness on my part as I wondered, Is it right to promise money quickly, as if even this amount is no big deal? I can buy the blanket; should I pay for the shoes as well? If I give money to her, is it fair to others who have been interviewed? Is the fact that I’m even hesitating related to my social class? ... Arichie is delivering the blanket and shoes to her with the photos from her disposable camera. It’s not enough, I know.
Tisa took great photos, both with my camera and the disposable. Not only does she have a good eye, but she clearly put a lot of care and thought into each picture. Oh and she bravely resisted her friends’ pressure and only took a few pictures of them so she could focus on documenting her daily life. This girl is so inspiring.
I asked about HIV education in her school. Weekly focus groups, coed, where students discuss an assigned topic and ask the teacher for help as needed. She said that both girls and boys feel comfortable asking anything in these sessions, and that she’s never asked a question because she knows everything about HIV. If she does have a question, is there someone with whom she can speak in private? Her voice changes. “No, there is nobody.” Listening back today, I wonder what message I sent by following up a bit but not providing any good suggestions.
She mentioned that she didn’t have a uniform or school shoes and that, for the third year in a row, she and her siblings don’t have a blanket. Nights can be near freezing during Malawi’s winter months. Tisa and her siblings sleep in a sack and their chitenge (cloth) and their grandmother in her jersey. She estimated that shoes would cost 800 kwacha, slightly over $5, and I knew that a blanket was 1500 kwacha, roughly $10. Her calm and respectful request for assistance was met by awkwardness on my part as I wondered, Is it right to promise money quickly, as if even this amount is no big deal? I can buy the blanket; should I pay for the shoes as well? If I give money to her, is it fair to others who have been interviewed? Is the fact that I’m even hesitating related to my social class? ... Arichie is delivering the blanket and shoes to her with the photos from her disposable camera. It’s not enough, I know.
Tisa took great photos, both with my camera and the disposable. Not only does she have a good eye, but she clearly put a lot of care and thought into each picture. Oh and she bravely resisted her friends’ pressure and only took a few pictures of them so she could focus on documenting her daily life. This girl is so inspiring.
So it didn’t occur to me that I could keep blogging even after returning to the US, but several people have made the suggestion. Last night I spent a few hours teaching myself how to use iMovie, and today it was GarageBand. Both programs are new to me and seemed much more complicated before I went to Malawi; this time around they just make so much sense.
Editing all this material down is no joke. In one month, we interviewed 19 individuals, 9 families, and four groups/clubs, and interviews often consisted of initials and follow-ups and lasted at least hour long, usually in two languages. We also recorded sounds and video at several schools. That’s audio. As for photography, Arichie, several participants, and I took pictures with my camera and I think about 14 people were given disposables. So you can imagine.
Editing all this material down is no joke. In one month, we interviewed 19 individuals, 9 families, and four groups/clubs, and interviews often consisted of initials and follow-ups and lasted at least hour long, usually in two languages. We also recorded sounds and video at several schools. That’s audio. As for photography, Arichie, several participants, and I took pictures with my camera and I think about 14 people were given disposables. So you can imagine.
Monday, June 15, 2009
BACK IN NC
Yes, Phil you're right about it being time for an update. This past week I was so busy with last interviews that I didn't get a chance to work on the blog. Sorry!
I just got home about 2 hours ago (after 33 hours of traveling), though, so email me and we'll find a time to meet up!
I just got home about 2 hours ago (after 33 hours of traveling), though, so email me and we'll find a time to meet up!
Monday, June 1, 2009
What’s on my mind:
Right now, I’m supposed to be interviewing a coffin maker, Zughar, but when Arichie and I arrived at his shop, there was a funeral going on across the street. As we pulled up, we saw branches laid out on the side of the road, people sitting in the grass singing. Zughar came over to greet us and to reschedule the interview. He explained that a child of 2 or 3 had died. A pot of boiling water had been sitting on a charcoal burner, and when she got close to warm herself, it fell on her.
Some other things:
Last night, we passed through about 5 areas of the city that were without power. Candles and bonfires everywhere. It is common here for one area or another to be without power for an hour or two – in fact, so common that it’s called “load sharing” because there isn’t enough electricity for the city and areas take turns at going without.
When Arichie, Zughar and I were having a drink together at a bar the other night I noticed that people kept coming up to him, giving him money, or pulling him aside to speak with him in private. I learned that he makes coffins after I commented to Arichie that Zughar was quite the businessman, it being evening and all. On the way to his house, you pass a street of coffin shops. I tried to count them today, and think there’s at least 15 – they are lined up, one after another, on either side of the road. We’re going to interview Zughar tomorrow morning.
Yesterday we went back to the community based organization Mchenga. While there, we interviewed a grandmother who, with the help of one of the volunteers, cares for her grandchildren. She has trouble moving around and sleeping due to pain in her joints. After I took some pictures, she showed us the white hair under her headscarf. She was laughing, so I thought she was joking about old age, but Arichie translated what she said. Our generation won’t have white hair like hers because all the young people are dying. She said this with a smile, a laugh, and in the presence of about 10 kids, some of them orphans.
We also had a good second meeting with Fane (I wrote it Fani before, but that was wrong), the young woman who had one of the disposable cameras. Her day: she gets up at 5am, sweeps the area round her house, and either eats porridge or goes without. Durng the day, sells mandasi (donuts) or buys maize from local farmers and resells it at the market. For lunch she has nsima with a sauce made from what vegetables she can buy, and dinner is the same. When I got home that night, I was famished and couldn’t stop thinking about her as I sat in a comfortable dining room eating fish, vegetables and rice.
I should say that what I’m seeing and experiencing here is a true mixture of tragedy and joy, and so I can’t offer any kind of transition to the following.
On Friday night, a group of us (Arichie and his friends) went to a reggae concert by the Black Missionaries, a famous Malawian band whose tape we listened to nonstop the first week I was here, until we decided that we needed a change (American hip hop).
Then on Saturday Arichie’s cousin Takundwa invited me to a wedding. The church ceremony was that morning, so we went to the reception. It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Imagine a huge hall with people sitting, standing, nursing babies, passing Fanta drinks and cokes around. Music is blaring from a sound system of questionable quality, and various groups of people – the bridal party, friends, coworkers – take turns dancing and throwing money at the newlyweds. Meanwhile, an MC is urging people to come up, give money, 500 kwacha, 1000 kwacha, come, everyone, come.
The next day, I went to a Pentecostal church in the morning (singing, dancing, speaking in tongues, falling to the floor) and then onto a “kitchen top up” in the afternoon. This is where a group of women holds a party once a month to raise money for each person’s kitchen. This is a women-only event, and the only men allowed where three young djs. In fact, when a man tried to come in – insisting that he worked for the house and just wanted water – the women laughed at him, yelled, and shooed him away. We sat in rows of chairs, eating from little bags of fried bread and chicken, drinking – yes – Fanta and coke, and facing the “stage” where the woman of the month sat, and took turns dancing up to her and dancing around her throwing money into a bucket or on the ground near her. I went up twice only, once to introduce myself, the second time with Takundwa and her friend. Completely embarrassed and awkward each time since I didn’t know how to dance like they did, but in the end happy that I experienced it all.
This morning we met the community outreach workers at UNC’s project at Bwaila Hospital. From what I understand, this project focuses on reducing rates of mother to child transmission and encouraging men to participate with their wives in care. They seem to have had a lot of success in both of these areas, and today we went out with one of the workers, Alice, as she visited a woman who’s baby had been hospitalized last week due to severe anemia. Once again, I was amazed at how welcoming and kind the workers were. They gave us tea, chatted with us, and made us feel so welcome. Later this week we’ll go out with another UNC community worker, this time from Central Hospital.
Right now, I’m supposed to be interviewing a coffin maker, Zughar, but when Arichie and I arrived at his shop, there was a funeral going on across the street. As we pulled up, we saw branches laid out on the side of the road, people sitting in the grass singing. Zughar came over to greet us and to reschedule the interview. He explained that a child of 2 or 3 had died. A pot of boiling water had been sitting on a charcoal burner, and when she got close to warm herself, it fell on her.
Some other things:
Last night, we passed through about 5 areas of the city that were without power. Candles and bonfires everywhere. It is common here for one area or another to be without power for an hour or two – in fact, so common that it’s called “load sharing” because there isn’t enough electricity for the city and areas take turns at going without.
When Arichie, Zughar and I were having a drink together at a bar the other night I noticed that people kept coming up to him, giving him money, or pulling him aside to speak with him in private. I learned that he makes coffins after I commented to Arichie that Zughar was quite the businessman, it being evening and all. On the way to his house, you pass a street of coffin shops. I tried to count them today, and think there’s at least 15 – they are lined up, one after another, on either side of the road. We’re going to interview Zughar tomorrow morning.
Yesterday we went back to the community based organization Mchenga. While there, we interviewed a grandmother who, with the help of one of the volunteers, cares for her grandchildren. She has trouble moving around and sleeping due to pain in her joints. After I took some pictures, she showed us the white hair under her headscarf. She was laughing, so I thought she was joking about old age, but Arichie translated what she said. Our generation won’t have white hair like hers because all the young people are dying. She said this with a smile, a laugh, and in the presence of about 10 kids, some of them orphans.
We also had a good second meeting with Fane (I wrote it Fani before, but that was wrong), the young woman who had one of the disposable cameras. Her day: she gets up at 5am, sweeps the area round her house, and either eats porridge or goes without. Durng the day, sells mandasi (donuts) or buys maize from local farmers and resells it at the market. For lunch she has nsima with a sauce made from what vegetables she can buy, and dinner is the same. When I got home that night, I was famished and couldn’t stop thinking about her as I sat in a comfortable dining room eating fish, vegetables and rice.
I should say that what I’m seeing and experiencing here is a true mixture of tragedy and joy, and so I can’t offer any kind of transition to the following.
On Friday night, a group of us (Arichie and his friends) went to a reggae concert by the Black Missionaries, a famous Malawian band whose tape we listened to nonstop the first week I was here, until we decided that we needed a change (American hip hop).
Then on Saturday Arichie’s cousin Takundwa invited me to a wedding. The church ceremony was that morning, so we went to the reception. It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Imagine a huge hall with people sitting, standing, nursing babies, passing Fanta drinks and cokes around. Music is blaring from a sound system of questionable quality, and various groups of people – the bridal party, friends, coworkers – take turns dancing and throwing money at the newlyweds. Meanwhile, an MC is urging people to come up, give money, 500 kwacha, 1000 kwacha, come, everyone, come.
The next day, I went to a Pentecostal church in the morning (singing, dancing, speaking in tongues, falling to the floor) and then onto a “kitchen top up” in the afternoon. This is where a group of women holds a party once a month to raise money for each person’s kitchen. This is a women-only event, and the only men allowed where three young djs. In fact, when a man tried to come in – insisting that he worked for the house and just wanted water – the women laughed at him, yelled, and shooed him away. We sat in rows of chairs, eating from little bags of fried bread and chicken, drinking – yes – Fanta and coke, and facing the “stage” where the woman of the month sat, and took turns dancing up to her and dancing around her throwing money into a bucket or on the ground near her. I went up twice only, once to introduce myself, the second time with Takundwa and her friend. Completely embarrassed and awkward each time since I didn’t know how to dance like they did, but in the end happy that I experienced it all.
This morning we met the community outreach workers at UNC’s project at Bwaila Hospital. From what I understand, this project focuses on reducing rates of mother to child transmission and encouraging men to participate with their wives in care. They seem to have had a lot of success in both of these areas, and today we went out with one of the workers, Alice, as she visited a woman who’s baby had been hospitalized last week due to severe anemia. Once again, I was amazed at how welcoming and kind the workers were. They gave us tea, chatted with us, and made us feel so welcome. Later this week we’ll go out with another UNC community worker, this time from Central Hospital.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
One of the University of Pittsburgh students asked me what I’ve noticed about people’s responses to death here. During his month here, there have been several occasions where people seemed almost blasé about a death, even in times when the person was a close friend or family member. He wondered out loud if death and illness are so commonplace that one has to quickly move on, and said that he has had to check himself a few times when he too quickly accepted various outcomes of poverty and health disparities as “normal.” I noticed that in myself the other day. After interviewing Fani, I looked at the hut next to us and saw a child lying in it. I asked Mara if I could take a picture and took several. The little girl is lying on a cloth on the dirt floor, staring at the camera with a blank expression. There’s a pink plastic bowl nearby, with remnants of nsima I think. She hardly moved in the time it took me to take the photos. I’m going to ask Mara about this child when we go back there on Saturday, and don’t understand why I didn’t at the time.
I should say something about the comment I made about the three orphans we interviewed last week. A couple people have brought up the point that all three, and especially the boy, might have been shy to talk about HIV transmission. I agree, and think that it’s probably the case that they didn’t feel free to speak openly about their knowledge or lack thereof. However, what worries me is that it really seemed that they didn’t have a clear understanding of ways to prevent the spread of the virus because of the disjointed way in which they answered.
I've been trying to get more pictures and even video on here, but it's hard because they take so long to load. The really good pictures you'll have to see when I get back though because I don't want them to be online. :)
Gotta go do some interviews!
I should say something about the comment I made about the three orphans we interviewed last week. A couple people have brought up the point that all three, and especially the boy, might have been shy to talk about HIV transmission. I agree, and think that it’s probably the case that they didn’t feel free to speak openly about their knowledge or lack thereof. However, what worries me is that it really seemed that they didn’t have a clear understanding of ways to prevent the spread of the virus because of the disjointed way in which they answered.
I've been trying to get more pictures and even video on here, but it's hard because they take so long to load. The really good pictures you'll have to see when I get back though because I don't want them to be online. :)
Gotta go do some interviews!
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Remember the interview I did with the grandmother and her two granddaughters? Well first of all, I spelled their names wrong. It’s Nachiletso, Tiankhulengi and Mwationa. But listen, I asked Arichie what their names mean: Tiankhulengi “they have no voice”, and Mwationa “you have seen us.” He said that often names are chosen to coincide with circumstances present around the time of the child’s birth. What was going on then, and why do their names have such relevance today? It made me stop for a minute, as I thought about these young girls and the work that I’m doing here.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
A few highlights this week:
This afternoon:
We’ll go to Mr. Chiunda’s house. Mr. Chiunda is a small, very energetic man who has helped countless vulnerable children and families over the years through, among other things, a breakfast program he used to run out of his house and his former job as National Coordinator of Pendulum Project Malawi. Today he, his family, Arichie and I, and a few young HIV positive people he’s helped over the years will eat a special meal of chapo (a Malawian fish that supposed to be delicious) together and I’ll have the chance to conduct some interviews.
Wednesday evening:
I’ll learn how to make nsima (remember? stiff cornmeal porridge eaten with everything here) from one of Arichie’s friends.
Thursday:
We’ll return to Mitundu area for more initial interviews and some follow-up ones with the two women to whom we gave the cameras.
Friday:
Morning - Paradiso House Home Based Care for a second interview with members of their support group. Last time they drew/wrote a timeline of important things that have happened in their lives (related or not to HIV status) and now all who want to will have a chance to share their stories on the recorder. Something tells me it’ll be everyone. I’ll also collect the Youth Club’s camera.
Afternoon – the University of North Carolina has a clinic at the main hospital here in Lilongwe. I met with the community outreach worker, and Arichie and I will be going out with one of the nurses to meet families and conduct interviews.
Saturday:
Return to Mchenga for initial and follow-up interviews.
A few highlights this week:
This afternoon:
We’ll go to Mr. Chiunda’s house. Mr. Chiunda is a small, very energetic man who has helped countless vulnerable children and families over the years through, among other things, a breakfast program he used to run out of his house and his former job as National Coordinator of Pendulum Project Malawi. Today he, his family, Arichie and I, and a few young HIV positive people he’s helped over the years will eat a special meal of chapo (a Malawian fish that supposed to be delicious) together and I’ll have the chance to conduct some interviews.
Wednesday evening:
I’ll learn how to make nsima (remember? stiff cornmeal porridge eaten with everything here) from one of Arichie’s friends.
Thursday:
We’ll return to Mitundu area for more initial interviews and some follow-up ones with the two women to whom we gave the cameras.
Friday:
Morning - Paradiso House Home Based Care for a second interview with members of their support group. Last time they drew/wrote a timeline of important things that have happened in their lives (related or not to HIV status) and now all who want to will have a chance to share their stories on the recorder. Something tells me it’ll be everyone. I’ll also collect the Youth Club’s camera.
Afternoon – the University of North Carolina has a clinic at the main hospital here in Lilongwe. I met with the community outreach worker, and Arichie and I will be going out with one of the nurses to meet families and conduct interviews.
Saturday:
Return to Mchenga for initial and follow-up interviews.
Monday, May 25
I just got back from spending a weekend at a town on the lake. There’s a group of really nice University of Pittsburgh students doing work here, so we all went together, along with Arichie (friend, driver, interpreter) and Mara’s son. The lake is gorgeous, and we stayed in a small fishing town, which was interesting after these days in Lilongwe. The children there either shouted the usual “azungu” at us, accompanied by either a wave or a thumbs up, or stared and even scowled. I was even more careful than usual about taking pictures of people after I heard adults making remarks at being caught in the photographs of others in our group. I think people in that area know very well the good and bad sides of tourism. The poverty is palpable as it is everywhere in this country, and whether all those small fishing boats that go out each night will catch anything is unpredictable. I wore my clothes rather than a bathing suit and am glad I did; the only locals in the water were men soaping up and bathing in their underwear, and children. Local women spent hours at the lake washing clothes, and the majority of men sat on the shore making huge fishing nets. For a few really fun hours I played with three local boys on the beach. When I asked one of them why he wasn’t in school, he said that his uniform wasn’t clean, but that he’d be back tomorrow. I’m not sure if he was telling the truth. I showed them how to use my camera and was impressed with how quickly they learned. They were so sweet, playful, and respectful, and almost ran the battery out since they wanted to see and show each picture they’d taken. I was able to communicate with them with what little Chichewa I’ve picked up, which was so exciting. I’ll get to see them again because at some point I’ll be heading back to that area to conduct interviews. A man I met there says he knows people who would want to be a part of this project as it allows local people to have a voice, and that he will start speaking with potential participants today.
I just got back from spending a weekend at a town on the lake. There’s a group of really nice University of Pittsburgh students doing work here, so we all went together, along with Arichie (friend, driver, interpreter) and Mara’s son. The lake is gorgeous, and we stayed in a small fishing town, which was interesting after these days in Lilongwe. The children there either shouted the usual “azungu” at us, accompanied by either a wave or a thumbs up, or stared and even scowled. I was even more careful than usual about taking pictures of people after I heard adults making remarks at being caught in the photographs of others in our group. I think people in that area know very well the good and bad sides of tourism. The poverty is palpable as it is everywhere in this country, and whether all those small fishing boats that go out each night will catch anything is unpredictable. I wore my clothes rather than a bathing suit and am glad I did; the only locals in the water were men soaping up and bathing in their underwear, and children. Local women spent hours at the lake washing clothes, and the majority of men sat on the shore making huge fishing nets. For a few really fun hours I played with three local boys on the beach. When I asked one of them why he wasn’t in school, he said that his uniform wasn’t clean, but that he’d be back tomorrow. I’m not sure if he was telling the truth. I showed them how to use my camera and was impressed with how quickly they learned. They were so sweet, playful, and respectful, and almost ran the battery out since they wanted to see and show each picture they’d taken. I was able to communicate with them with what little Chichewa I’ve picked up, which was so exciting. I’ll get to see them again because at some point I’ll be heading back to that area to conduct interviews. A man I met there says he knows people who would want to be a part of this project as it allows local people to have a voice, and that he will start speaking with potential participants today.
Saturday, May 23
This morning we went to Mchenga, a community based organization that helps families and orphans, especially through home visiting and assistance with food security. We conducted two interviews that morning. One was with Fani, age 19, who lost her mother to “sudden illness” in 2005. She began to cry as she remembered her mother and I struggled with whether or not to take a photo. The social worker in me won, but when I later asked Mara what she thought, she said that these emotions are very real and important to capture, and that she’ll mention this to future interviewees so that next time this happens I can more comfortably take the picture. Fani has a disposable camera, which we’ll pick up on Saturday.
In the afternoon, I interviewed the Youth Club at Paradiso House Home Based Care. What a cool ending to the day! They greeted us with a traditional dance and continued to sing and dance as children and orphans gathered around them. This is one way that they educate their community on HIV and other health-related issues. The interview went well, and I can’t wait to bring their message back to the US. They’re so bright and full of energy, utterly inspiring. Also young and insecure. Some of the girls are on scholarship so that they can attend secondary school, but more money is needed to assist the other girls and any of the boys who can’t afford to pay school fees. Most have lost at least one parent to HIV, but some haven’t and are in the club because of what it teaches them about themselves and their lives, and because of the opportunity to bring about positive change in their communities. I gave them a disposable camera to use as a group and they discussed possible themes, deciding to focus on their outreach work. Along with taking pictures, their homework is to think of questions they would like to ask members of their community, as next time we’re going out as a group with the microphone and recorder so that they can take turns interviewing people and learning how to use the equipment.
This morning we went to Mchenga, a community based organization that helps families and orphans, especially through home visiting and assistance with food security. We conducted two interviews that morning. One was with Fani, age 19, who lost her mother to “sudden illness” in 2005. She began to cry as she remembered her mother and I struggled with whether or not to take a photo. The social worker in me won, but when I later asked Mara what she thought, she said that these emotions are very real and important to capture, and that she’ll mention this to future interviewees so that next time this happens I can more comfortably take the picture. Fani has a disposable camera, which we’ll pick up on Saturday.
In the afternoon, I interviewed the Youth Club at Paradiso House Home Based Care. What a cool ending to the day! They greeted us with a traditional dance and continued to sing and dance as children and orphans gathered around them. This is one way that they educate their community on HIV and other health-related issues. The interview went well, and I can’t wait to bring their message back to the US. They’re so bright and full of energy, utterly inspiring. Also young and insecure. Some of the girls are on scholarship so that they can attend secondary school, but more money is needed to assist the other girls and any of the boys who can’t afford to pay school fees. Most have lost at least one parent to HIV, but some haven’t and are in the club because of what it teaches them about themselves and their lives, and because of the opportunity to bring about positive change in their communities. I gave them a disposable camera to use as a group and they discussed possible themes, deciding to focus on their outreach work. Along with taking pictures, their homework is to think of questions they would like to ask members of their community, as next time we’re going out as a group with the microphone and recorder so that they can take turns interviewing people and learning how to use the equipment.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Everything’s going really well. Pendulum Project people have been gone above and beyond in introducing me to community members, interpreting during interviews, teaching me Chichewa, inviting me to meet friends and family, and answering all my questions. I stayed with this amazing Couchsurfing couple, Frauke and Saqib, the first two nights, and am now at a Malawian woman’s house until June 1. My host works at an embassy here and I’m very lucky because she’s really sweet and my rent includes meals (prepared by a cook), laundry, great company, and a gorgeous garden. Okay, not rustic at all, and a totally different world from the one in which I spend the rest of my time, but that’s just how it worked out.
So right now I’m not going to try to summarize everything that’s happened during the past week. Here’s yesterday’s interviews:
A 16 yr old girl who lives with her 17 year old brother, and has been cared for by her grandmother since the age of 2. Her grandmother is old and can’t help as much anymore, so she spends her day in the fields gathering up things such as peanuts leftover from the harvest. She sells them for food for herself and her brother. Her friends go too, but they use their money to buy little things their parents won’t get them, not staples. Her brother doesn’t do anything but wake up, eat, and hang out with his friends all day but she can’t tell him what to do because he’s older, and because if he leaves she’ll be without a blood relative. We showed her how to use a disposable camera and she tested out two pictures. We’ll pick it up in a week.
A young girl, Irene, and her grandmother, Agnes. Agnes has outlived all of five of her children. She depends on people in the community to help her and her grandchildren, as she dislocated her hip a few years ago. She has been caring for Irene and her cousin since they were toddlers. Irene fetches water, does the dishes and the laundry, and prepares warm water for her grandmother’s bath. She said that what she really wants is new clothes to wear to school, but her grandmother chided her, saying that that their need for food is too great to wish for new clothes.
Tankulengi, 11, Machuona, 12, and their grandmother, Nachuletsu. The girls’ mother died in 2000, so Nachuletsi and their aunt care for them. Machuona’s favorite subject is math. Nachuletsu says that she has never seen or heard of anybody in her village having or dying from HIV. Some die of headache, others of rheumatism, and some just drop dead. She said that four times a year there’s an assembly where all of the kids do skits related to HIV prevention. There’s also a joint session held once a week for all children grades 1-8 (!), but she doesn’t feel comfortable asking questions there. She has questions. It isn’t appropriate in Chewa culture for a mother to educate her daughter on sex – this is the job of aunts, etc – and her grandmother says she’s old and that this kind of thing is none of her business at her age. This question keeps coming up - who is talking to these orphans about HIV and sex?
Liknet, 29, who has two children. She was 25 years old when her mother died and we were incredibly impressed by her resourcefulness, kindness, and strength. She works in the fields and started a small business so she could build a place for herself and her children, but is still struggling to feed her family. From her mother, she learned to be a well-behaved person, to work hard, and to learn from the achievements of others rather than being jealous of their success. She ended the interview with prayers for me and for the American People. We gave her a disposable camera, which we’ll pick up next week.
There was a sixteen year old who didn’t want to speak with us. First she said that she had nothing to say to a white person. Then she said that if she missed work she wouldn’t be able to eat. So we went to the field where she was working and one of the volunteers with us offered to work for her while she talked with us. We knew from the local organization that both her parents had died of HIV and that she lives with her grandmother, who is very sick with the virus. During the brief interview, however, she gave one sentence answers and painted a rosy picture of her life, saying that she was just working in the fields to get extra money so that she’d have something nice to wear to a friend’s wedding. Mara, who was interviewing her, eventually said that “you can’t interview someone if they don’t want to talk with you” and we let the girl know that if she changed her mind, she should let us know. I keep thinking about her though, because it’s obvious that she must have been through so much, and is having a hard time with it all.
People are willing to talk about HIV, but in general terms. Abstinence and good behavior are repeated over and over again. When I asked three orphans ages 16-18 how HIV is transmitted, one girl said through sex, the other “sharp objects”, and the 18 year old boy, who travels back and forth between Malawi and Mozambique for seasonal work, said he didn’t know. As the conversation continued, the girls also mentioned transmission through breast milk (but only after the baby turns 6 months, they said) and blood transfusions. In our conversations, witchcraft is usually at the root of a loved one’s death, and people die from accidents or an unknown, and often sudden, illness. Mara seems sure that all of these deaths are due to AIDS, and it will be interesting to see if people open up about the virus as we get to know each other.
As we went from hut to hut, village to village today, we were escorted by a group of volunteers from the local community organization. They wouldn’t let us carry our bags and a woman in one of the villages made lunch for us (sardines and nsima, the Malawian staple of maize porridge) even though I know she couldn’t have had more food than anyone else we saw.
So right now I’m not going to try to summarize everything that’s happened during the past week. Here’s yesterday’s interviews:
A 16 yr old girl who lives with her 17 year old brother, and has been cared for by her grandmother since the age of 2. Her grandmother is old and can’t help as much anymore, so she spends her day in the fields gathering up things such as peanuts leftover from the harvest. She sells them for food for herself and her brother. Her friends go too, but they use their money to buy little things their parents won’t get them, not staples. Her brother doesn’t do anything but wake up, eat, and hang out with his friends all day but she can’t tell him what to do because he’s older, and because if he leaves she’ll be without a blood relative. We showed her how to use a disposable camera and she tested out two pictures. We’ll pick it up in a week.
A young girl, Irene, and her grandmother, Agnes. Agnes has outlived all of five of her children. She depends on people in the community to help her and her grandchildren, as she dislocated her hip a few years ago. She has been caring for Irene and her cousin since they were toddlers. Irene fetches water, does the dishes and the laundry, and prepares warm water for her grandmother’s bath. She said that what she really wants is new clothes to wear to school, but her grandmother chided her, saying that that their need for food is too great to wish for new clothes.
Tankulengi, 11, Machuona, 12, and their grandmother, Nachuletsu. The girls’ mother died in 2000, so Nachuletsi and their aunt care for them. Machuona’s favorite subject is math. Nachuletsu says that she has never seen or heard of anybody in her village having or dying from HIV. Some die of headache, others of rheumatism, and some just drop dead. She said that four times a year there’s an assembly where all of the kids do skits related to HIV prevention. There’s also a joint session held once a week for all children grades 1-8 (!), but she doesn’t feel comfortable asking questions there. She has questions. It isn’t appropriate in Chewa culture for a mother to educate her daughter on sex – this is the job of aunts, etc – and her grandmother says she’s old and that this kind of thing is none of her business at her age. This question keeps coming up - who is talking to these orphans about HIV and sex?
Liknet, 29, who has two children. She was 25 years old when her mother died and we were incredibly impressed by her resourcefulness, kindness, and strength. She works in the fields and started a small business so she could build a place for herself and her children, but is still struggling to feed her family. From her mother, she learned to be a well-behaved person, to work hard, and to learn from the achievements of others rather than being jealous of their success. She ended the interview with prayers for me and for the American People. We gave her a disposable camera, which we’ll pick up next week.
There was a sixteen year old who didn’t want to speak with us. First she said that she had nothing to say to a white person. Then she said that if she missed work she wouldn’t be able to eat. So we went to the field where she was working and one of the volunteers with us offered to work for her while she talked with us. We knew from the local organization that both her parents had died of HIV and that she lives with her grandmother, who is very sick with the virus. During the brief interview, however, she gave one sentence answers and painted a rosy picture of her life, saying that she was just working in the fields to get extra money so that she’d have something nice to wear to a friend’s wedding. Mara, who was interviewing her, eventually said that “you can’t interview someone if they don’t want to talk with you” and we let the girl know that if she changed her mind, she should let us know. I keep thinking about her though, because it’s obvious that she must have been through so much, and is having a hard time with it all.
People are willing to talk about HIV, but in general terms. Abstinence and good behavior are repeated over and over again. When I asked three orphans ages 16-18 how HIV is transmitted, one girl said through sex, the other “sharp objects”, and the 18 year old boy, who travels back and forth between Malawi and Mozambique for seasonal work, said he didn’t know. As the conversation continued, the girls also mentioned transmission through breast milk (but only after the baby turns 6 months, they said) and blood transfusions. In our conversations, witchcraft is usually at the root of a loved one’s death, and people die from accidents or an unknown, and often sudden, illness. Mara seems sure that all of these deaths are due to AIDS, and it will be interesting to see if people open up about the virus as we get to know each other.
As we went from hut to hut, village to village today, we were escorted by a group of volunteers from the local community organization. They wouldn’t let us carry our bags and a woman in one of the villages made lunch for us (sardines and nsima, the Malawian staple of maize porridge) even though I know she couldn’t have had more food than anyone else we saw.
Monday, April 27, 2009
mic? check.
I finally bought an ElectroVoice RE50B. Omnidirectional, dynamic, and apparently (according to everyone I've talked to) a really good all-purpose mic. I might have to get another kind for backup and to handle the various situations in which I'll be recording, but you won't believe how much better I feel to have checked this off my list. Oh, and I tried the POGO printer and am so excited to use it in Malawi!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
STORING AND SHARING DREAMS AND FEARS
This comment was emailed to me from a friend, Jennie, in response to ones made about ways to incorporate Flat Stanley into this work. Though she has a Google account, she wasn't able to post a comment. If anyone else runs into this problem, please let me know because I want to hear what you have to say. Thank you all for your ideas - I love them! Keep them coming.
Have a great time working on a great project.
Another idea re: Flat Stanley
Suppose the doll carried something into which the kids could put their dreams/wishes, fears as per Lill? Might make for interesting discussions.
And/or have them make boxes that would serve that purpose--perhaps a Chinese takeout box that would fold flat again for your return visit?
Have a great time working on a great project.
Another idea re: Flat Stanley
Suppose the doll carried something into which the kids could put their dreams/wishes, fears as per Lill? Might make for interesting discussions.
And/or have them make boxes that would serve that purpose--perhaps a Chinese takeout box that would fold flat again for your return visit?
Saturday, April 18, 2009
I'M LISTENING
For someone new to audio work, buying a microphone or two is confusing to say the least. Interviews will take place both inside and outside, with individuals and groups. I'll need to capture voice, music, and ambiance. I've asked a few people their opinions and will stop - soon. Each one contradicts the other, and with every conversation comes more conditions to consider. Any advice that will simplify my search is very welcome!
Thursday, April 9, 2009
FLAT STANLEY
During a meeting with Bernard and Linda yesterday, I got some great feedback and creative suggestions. For example:
Could I incorporate Flat Stanley techniques in some way? If you don't know about it (I didn't) here's a link: http://www.flatstanley.com/ Basically, imagine if one of the Malawian children makes a paper doll, decorates it, and takes pictures with it as it accompanies her in her daily life. I bring the doll back with me and give it to a child at a Durham, NC school who does the same. Pictures are somehow exchanged, the doll somehow returned, and now there's a connection between them. I think that in the US, the main focus is on writing journals, but here it would be on photography as a way to document life. Obviously, this would require the utmost sensitivity (orphans, child headed households, poverty, children, illness, etc), but I love the simplicity of it and the opportunity for them to learn about and feel closer to one another.
How can I bring together photography and health/nutrition messages? Bernard and Linda explained that when vaccination visits have included a family photo, made into a basic calendar with return visits marked, completion rates have gone up. What is needed, and what role could documentation or interviews from this project play in addressing that need?
What might participants want to do with the photos? Some examples: have photo books made, hang photos, make simple scrapbooks. I'm not sure what significance the photos or other documentation might have - or not have! - for the participants, and will have to learn more about this when I'm there.
I bought a great little printer - Polaroid "POGO" - and will test it out. 2x3" instant photos, no ink required.
Could I incorporate Flat Stanley techniques in some way? If you don't know about it (I didn't) here's a link: http://www.flatstanley.com/ Basically, imagine if one of the Malawian children makes a paper doll, decorates it, and takes pictures with it as it accompanies her in her daily life. I bring the doll back with me and give it to a child at a Durham, NC school who does the same. Pictures are somehow exchanged, the doll somehow returned, and now there's a connection between them. I think that in the US, the main focus is on writing journals, but here it would be on photography as a way to document life. Obviously, this would require the utmost sensitivity (orphans, child headed households, poverty, children, illness, etc), but I love the simplicity of it and the opportunity for them to learn about and feel closer to one another.
How can I bring together photography and health/nutrition messages? Bernard and Linda explained that when vaccination visits have included a family photo, made into a basic calendar with return visits marked, completion rates have gone up. What is needed, and what role could documentation or interviews from this project play in addressing that need?
What might participants want to do with the photos? Some examples: have photo books made, hang photos, make simple scrapbooks. I'm not sure what significance the photos or other documentation might have - or not have! - for the participants, and will have to learn more about this when I'm there.
I bought a great little printer - Polaroid "POGO" - and will test it out. 2x3" instant photos, no ink required.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
ABOUT THE PROJECT
The HIV/AIDS epidemic continues to devastate social lattices, as families, communities, and an entire country must compensate for breakdowns in traditional structures.
It is a crisis that heavily affects children. At the end of 2007, an estimated 91,000 children in Malawi were living with HIV. In a general population of about 13.5 million, almost one million children are living without one or both parents due to the virus.
Every hour, eight people in Malawi die of AIDS. The country’s rate of HIV prevalence is among the highest in the world. It is the leading cause of death among adults, and is a major factor in the country’s low life expectancy of just 43 years. HIV/AIDS, poverty, and recent famine have created a heightened vulnerability to preventable diseases, food insecurity, low literacy, trauma, and violence.
With guidance from The Pendulum Project, the University of North Carolina, and others, I plan to facilitate a project that is both empowering for participants and valuable to providers, educational institutions, and the public in Malawi and abroad.
This work will consist of:
• Visits to homes, community-based programs, and clinics
• In-depth audio interviews with children, families, health workers, teachers, and others
• My photographs and video of participants
• Documentation by the children of their stories, through the use of disposable cameras
My goal is to raise awareness by honoring the voices, experiences, struggles, and triumphs of the Malawians I meet.
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