journal entry #8~village life

the Jesus film

We're back out in the villages again. Right now the Jesus Film is playing. After the last reel, the sound on the projector died. The guys were trying to check the fuses and find the problem, but they couldn't figure out what was wrong. Finally Carol and Caryl laid hands on the projector and said a quick prayer, and it suddenly started working again! Several of us just finished putting down tarps (we sleep on tarps because there are legions of fire ants everywhere) and setting up cots. It's quite a job to try and fit all of our cots into the space we're supposed to sleep in and find a place to hang all the mosquito nets. As we were unloading the bus tonight, there were several village men standing around, watching us. The translators were suspicious of one group of guys who seemed to be casing the joint--perhaps looking for a chance to steal some supplies. A few men kept coming over and looking in the bus, then huddling up to talk in low voices, and then returning to stare some more. The translators finally went over and told the men that we wanted them to go and watch the movie instead of watching us. The men said the village chief had placed them there for "protection" to keep anyone from stealing our equipment. I think it's just entertaining for them to watch us because we look different and we have a lot of stuff. The entire time we are in the villages, there is a crowd of people staring and watching everything we do. One morning a few of us were sitting perfectly still, reading, and there were about 50 people who sat and watched us with rapt attention. Even in the hut while we're sleeping, you can look closely at the straw walls and see 1000 pairs of big brown eyes staring in through the cracks. I've mastered the art of getting dressed inside my sleeping bag.

church window, photo by travis white

We've all got hacking coughs and sore throats. On top of that, I'm feeling a little sick tonight. If I have to eat insema one more time I think I might die. Insema is the staple food of Malawians. It's corn meal and water boiled until it's the consistency of dough. It tastes sort of like mushy tortillas, except it's gritty and sometimes there are dead bugs in it, frozen in place with what I imagine to be astonished looks on their tiny faces. It doesn't taste all that bad but if I let myself think about 30 people all eating out of the same plates with their bare hands I get a little anxious about the germs we're all sharing. I keep thinking about toasted bagels with melty cream cheese...mmmmmm.

cooking is hard work!

I remind myself often that the villages are sacrificing a huge amount by sharing their food with us, and when I think about that it's a little easier to eat the insema. They make SO MUCH of it, but we all try to eat as much as we can so we don't insult them by wasting the food that is so precious here.

lots and lots of insema

kelly rising and shining!

village kids