We have competed against the other two schools on the island- time to compete with the only other school in the district, the school on Chizimulu! For most of the teachers it was their first time.
Ryan felt ill, so it was just Sasha that woke up at 4:45 to meet some other teachers at 5:15, to make it to the boat leaving at 6 am. We set off into the early morning and walked as the sun rose and the air was cool and fresh.
We arrive at 6:15 to a picturesque beach, with lines of tables to dry fish and women and girls doing yesterdays dishes. It was barren of both our captain and any students, and so while Faith and I found a nice rock to sit on, the men went to find the captain. They pointed out the boat- I said surely not; this must be the boat that will take us to our boat! I predicted perhaps 20 could fit, but 70 were supposedly going. One hour in, around 30 students appear with the captain and we board the boat. It was still roomy, with only a few sitting on the floor. We pray, and then set off for Chizimulu. Or so I thought. We just moved one bay over where another 40 people waited on the shore. Realization slowly set that yes, they all planned to get on this fishing boat with no lifejackets and one motor. We shuffle closer, and people wedge themselves in. There is standing room only, until the captain demands everyone find a seat or we will capsize. A baby next to me cries. We pray again and set off. They begin to sing, which helps pass the time of the hour long boat ride. The sun now was rising properly now, and it started getting hot. It was time. I had to pull out the sunscreen. There were stares and laughter as I failed to inconspicuously rub it into my skin.
When we arrive, most students immediately disappear to find their friends and family on the other island. The boat sets off to pick up the second round of students who will arrive around 11. We find a small shop, the teachers purchase crackers and soda and watch, ready to jump in as I purchase water and yogurt in a bag. Fishan (in charge of sports) exclaims “I am surprised! You manage to buy things without any Chichewa”. That is another crutch we have- most people know basic English so we never have to learn more Chichewa.
We share our crackers in a concrete market square when someone comes by to sell clothing and lays out a thick pile of clothing infront of us. We picked out silly clothing for each other, before Faith and I get serious. We find a Lulu lemon shirt, and a shirt with a pirate pirating a movie on another (The joke was not appreciated by Malawians, but it is now my favorite shirt) and Faith bargains the price down until its only MK600 each- around 80 cents.
The school itself is a half hour walk up a very sunny and steep hill, and when we make it we collapse into an office. They have 3 scales, and we have only one semi-broken one so I suggested to the other Chemistry teacher he keep one under his shirt so we both have two “No! That’s stealing!” So unfortunately we still have only one scale. The headteacher comes in, and as we spoke it became clear that Chizimulu would need our help more. They should have 8 teachers, but only have 6 as two are alcoholics that take their paycheck to the mainland and stay there. Each teacher has 3 subjects, and 28 classes a week. The legal maximum is 25. I have 8, and sometimes feel overwhelmed. The headteacher left us to our own devices, and I went to find a bathroom. I found a nun, who did not know the words “bathroom”, or “Bana” (Chichewa for bathroom), but did understand the universally known slight squat and ssss sound. I patted myself on the back for remembering toiletpaper, and enjoyed the view from the bathroom door.
Faith and I went to nap on another teachers balcony, and watched two girls pluck a chicken. The breeze and the view was perfect to recover. Two girls that Ryan had sent with my forgotten waterbottle came by. Eventually lunch was served for us: rice, the chicken we just watched get plucked, and a sauce. Faith came around with the jug and bucket and poured so we each washed our hands. “Ahh, just like my wife used to” lamented Fishan. He is 25, so it was shocking to hear. They divorced as she slept with his bestfriend. We discussed the evils of his friend until we learned he was only 15 as he married, and she 14. This is illegal, but common in the villages.
We head back down to the pitch. Madalisto (Biology teacher) and I prepare to go to the beach. “Be careful! There are crocodiles!” he warned. I said no worries, theres plenty of people around who will tell us if we are in danger. “They cannot tell you not to go swimming, you are azungu” I assure him people love to tell us if something is dangerous. I get in the water, and children that were not there before materialize everywhere, but don’t get too close as Madalisto is there.
I cooled down then we went to go sit in the shade. A student drunkenly swaggers up and sits next to me, asking if that’s my waterbottle. Another student casually moves my waterbottle away. The dentist also comes by “ahh how many teeth have you pulled today?” I ask. “fourteen teeth” “Fourteen? That’s a lot, those poor people” “No, FORTY, and more coming. But my arm is tired, I need a rest” He explained how most Malawians don’t go to the dentist until it hurts, and by then the only thing you can do is pull. Even if it were caught in time, it is a free clinic and the ingredients to fill a cavity are expensive. He will do a teeth cleaning, however, as long as the person buys the distilled water for MK1000 ($1.50). He wishes to open his own dentistry office one day, but needs a dentist chair. They cost a fortune here, but if one was from the states or another place it would change his life. Germans donated one to the hospital on LIkoma, but on Chizimulu patients must just lie on the ground. By the end of the day, 53 people were a tooth short.
The netball game finally begins, and I made it about 15 minutes in the sun before retiring again to the shade with a bright red arm. This place is unforgiving. A student, Harold Ng’uno (pronounced close to Harome) sits next to me. I admire his name and he explains his last name means cow. and asks if I could please give him K1000 for his trip across. He had not paid and they were threatening to leave him there. I agree to talk to the teacher in charge as I did not pay for myself. I figured I should pay for someone! When I do ask Fishan, he laughs, and explain everyone has paid but Harold just wants beer.
We must leave before the soccer game ends, and we pack back into the boat. Someone pulls out lollipops, and we start on our way. Once the captain gave instructions, the Gospel singing comes again. The waves got rougher and higher, and began to crest. The sun got lower in the sky. The captain was skilled, but a wave just a bit higher would overturn the boat and I have no doubt that more than a few people would die as very few could swim and panic would hit. But they sang through it, getting louder as waves soaked us all, and people dove for the sides of the boat to get sick. I did feel God on the boat then. The songs were in Chichewa, though I joined into Hallelujah. It was the most powerful rendition I have ever been a part of.
Two hours later, we make it back to shore and we cheer. Faith swears never to go to Chizimulu again. I search for my waterbottle, as the captain throws it into the water. I manage to scoop it up before it disappeared and we walk home. This is a plastic waterbottle we brought all the way from Greece so it is particularly valuable. The water was too rough, and so the boat would not set out again until very late that night. The other half of the school would not get back until 4am.
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