This morning I woke early wondering what it will be like to find myself back in “the civilised world” in three days’ time. I imagined waking to a cold grey London morning, full of bustle outside, dense with everyday purposeful activity, but with far fewer smiles than I have become accustomed to in Malawi. And I felt a little bit of panic, to be honest. Panic not simply about finding myself in a literally and figuratively colder part of the world, but also panic about losing my own sense of purpose, not knowing where to fit in, of being superfluous and unimportant. Even though in Malawi we have complained and argued about, and often doubted, the effectiveness of our work, and of “Aid” in general, I don’t think many of us have regularly woken without a sense of being somehow needed and valued. This sense of purpose may be misplaced, perhaps artificially maintained by our status as mzungus, our sense of “knowing what should be done”, being part of a larger organisation like VSO, or a vague notion that we’re “helping”, somehow. At some level we can always fancy we have a “mission”! This sense of being needed is of course frequently bruised, usually when our Malawian workmates and employers seem to ignore, forget, resist or undermine what we suggest, and then we become frustrated and fed-up. This is not uncommon. It is then that we turn to our other important source of feeling part of something and of having a place, when we complain and rant with our friends and fellow volunteers after work. Our social networks here, formed early on but always flexible and welcoming, are powerful sources of support and identity in this odd situation. Volunteers are an interesting and varied bunch, from diverse backgrounds, people who we would probably never have gotten to know under ordinary circumstances. But arriving in a strange place with no family or friend support nearby, with a new culture, language and challenges to face, is hardly a normal circumstance. Superficial differences between volunteers are overshadowed by our common predicament and goals. So we end up supporting each other in an unusually open and inclusive way, knowing that we rely on and need one another. Friendship and trust are assumed, and freely given. (A similar though perhaps less intense environment forms when a group of international students arrive together in a new city, as happened when I was in Edinburgh in 2004.) On the flip side, tensions can also escalate in this pressure-cooked environment, with resulting flare-ups and fallouts. Volunteers are all slightly odd individuals perhaps, and David (fellow VSO volunteer in Dedza) and I were wondering this evening whether we’re all either escaping from something, or just weird, as has been rumoured. That’s probably a but cynical, but probably not completely off the mark. (I of course am an exception, neither escaping nor weird.) [Update: 24 March – Returning to Edinburgh for a visit now, reflecting on the life and issues I left behind, I’m no longer so sure I wasn’t escaping.]
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Noel’s brilliant hand-crafted scrabble board, Jess and I playing along. |
This sense of being a team has become more apparent as I say my goodbyes. Read the rest of this entry »
Gareth in Malawi 