Women's Rights: I'm not a feminist.

I do not consider myself a feminist, gay right's advocate, or an advocate of any other group that is discriminated against. I am stand for one cause; equal rights. If you treat a person differently because of race, gender, religion, sexual orientation, or any other classification, you are wrong, and you're an asshole. In America we still have a very long way to go on these issues. I will never understand the issue anyone has with gay marriage, if you do not like gay marriage, don't get gay married! Also for those people who say the sanctity of marriage is ruined by allowing gays to marry, look around, the heterosexual people have already fucked the sanctity of marriage, the divorce rate in our country is 50 percent. Also allowing any two people who are in love to be married is not going to ruin marriage, marriage is about love and commitment, I do not know why anything else matters.

I have been very lucky, I am a heterosexual white woman from a middle class family. In my life I have not had to deal with discrimination. I know that not all women in America feel this way, I do attribute a lot of security in being a woman to my upbringing. My father worked for our family business of running a golf course, this meant even on long work days I was able to go along. He also has always had the ability to take off work to make it to any event I have had. I remember being a little girl and my dad telling me I am capable of anything in the world and to never let anybody tell me I cannot do something because I am a girl. I have tagged along for hunting trips, assisted in taxidermy, learned to change spark plugs in a golf cart, was taught to mow greens and fairways before I was even heavy enough for the safety switch to recognize I was actually in the seat (this meant we had to put bricks behind the seat and my dad made me promise to not fall off), my dad rooted for me when I was racing my older brother across the yard, and he loved nothing more than when I was scrappy while playing coed soccer in high school. I know this is not the normal behavior of every father and I am very lucky, I definitely will fight back any man that every tries to make me feel less for being a woman. That does not make me immune to issues in our society though, cat calls while running down the street, being looked at as a slut for having sex, and being judged because of what I wear or how I behave. I am lucky that my upbringing has made me confident in who I am and I do not often care about judgement from others or feel the need to follow society's rules for women. I will do what I am comfortable with, and I have my own morals and values, if I wanted your opinion I would ask. I wish that women did not have to even deal with this sort of judgement by society. This is also a problem everywhere in the world. Mhango told me at the dance we had on Friday, "Kendall, do you see how those girls are dancing? Look at them, they are probably prostitutes." I replied, "Yes I see how they are dancing, I was just dancing with them. Not all girls who dance or even have sex are prostitutes. If they want to have sex, fine by me, I hope they use protection. I am not worried about sex, I am worried about girls who have to have sex to make a living. That is what needs to stop, but these girls have the right and freedom to do as they please."

But we have things a lot better than many places in the world. This has been very evident to me here, especially not that I live right in the village and am aware of what happens. I have already told you about the prostitution, and sexual practices that make women victims, this time it is domestic violence.

*Disclaimer, if the word fuck offends you do not read this, and I also don't know how we are friends, you should know by now it is my favorite word, well second favorite, I will keep the first for only very special occasions.*

On Thursday I was sitting in the library charging my phone and laptop waiting for a meeting with the chiefs to discuss the chicken project. Mhango comes up to the library and says, "Kendall, a woman has been badly beaten at Khomera, are you coming with me?" I said yes, I will go. We start walking and I said, "Who beat her?" Mhango replied, "Her husband, he is the man who charges your phone at Kaminga grounds." I immediately was shaking with anger, I lately have just had enough, as you know, and I am especially sick of the way women are treated. I flew into a complete rage, I do not remember what all I said, a few key things were Mhango saying things like, "Kendall, Kendall, Kendall" while chuckling, "We do not even know the story, we need to investigate and counsel." I said things like, "Fuck you, fuck your culture, and fuck this country, I am so tired of the bullshit! I will not counsel a man who beat his wife! She needs to leave him and he needs to go to jail! If you do not like what I am going to say to him then I suggest you do not come with me." He ended up stopping to talk to some guys while I marched on, I knew where the man lived and I had a few things to say about the situation. I had also heard that this event was seen by many people in the community and nothing was done, this outraged me even more. I got to the man's house and was shaking I was so mad, I yelled the usual, "Odi! Odi!" this means excuse me and that is basically how they knock. He came out and I said, "Hi. I have heard you hit your wife." He said, "No." I also do not remember a lot of this one way screaming match either, I was too mad. I said things like, "You are a fucking asshole! I would love to beat the shit out of you so you know how it feels! You do not hit women! I hope you rot in hell!" You know that sort of thing. His wife had come out upon my request and was sitting on a chair, she had a split eyebrow that was bandaged. The husband became very angry with me and walked away. I was very glad that his wife was there, his daughter, and all of the women in the surrounding houses, I wanted them to know that I will not tolerate this behavior and I will stand up. Mhango got there and the husband was speaking to him in Chichewa, well I am not an idiot I know what he was saying, she is out of line coming here to yell at me and stuff like that. It just set me off more, "Oh you do not know what to do for once in your life when a woman stands up to you, funny how you are not so sure how to deal with it." Mhango told me to, "Keep quiet." Wrong thing to say, "Oh yes you are right, I am a woman I should just keep quiet and let of you men deal with this is a calm manner. No women do not have a right to get angry and speak up, I am not going to keep quiet! Somebody needs to stand up for the women and girls of this country!" He then did not respond and I said, "Well are you going to fucking translate for me or not? I want to ask the wife if she has any other injuries." He said, "We are waiting for Mr. Chapomba and going to do some counseling." I said to the husband that was staring at me, "Here's your fucking counseling, stop being a fucking asshole!" Then I said to Mhango, "I am not sitting here and holding the hand of a fucking wife beater to tell him how to work on his problems, it is wrong and he needs to go to fucking jail!" I then stormed off, I could no longer contain my anger, and there were garden tools nearby that were begging me to put straight through Mhango's and the husband's heads.

I went back to the library and called my dad, I just needed to vent a bit. I know that for anyone that is not here they think, oh it is just culture and that is the way it is. I'm sorry but this is a poor fucking excuse for a man to be a prick. It is not a culture I will accept or tolerate, I plan to try to do something about it. I also feel that I am living in this community and I have a responsibility to stand up, sitting idly by would be just as bad as beating the women myself. I also think of the beautiful, strong, and joyful little girls I have in my life. They do not deserve a future like this. I love these girls, loving them means fighting for them and fighting for a change.

Luckily once back in the library I had work to do, so it took my mind off of the situation and I had already done some brainstorming earlier that day about how to empower women. I conducted the meeting and then went straight to Mary's house, I told her the situation and I also told her other things I am very frustrated with. She is a very good listener and I know that she fully understands the way women are treated here is wrong. I have decided I want to start a women's rights group, I think one committee should consist of women and the other should of men. I also went to the police station this morning and have asked them to come speak to the community about this issue and what the legal ramifications are for men who do beat their wives. It is jail time. While in the police station the officer I yelled previously while we were looking for my stolen belongings was taunting me by laughing and making statements while I was talking to the officer in charge. When I came in I decided I was not going to bring up the issue of my stuff not being found, but he asked for it. I stopped my conversation and said to him, "Hey, how is the investigation going?" He started talking, I interrupted and said, "Actually I do not give a shit, you still have not returned my stuff so you can shut the hell up." I then returned back to the head officer with a smile. I am fully aware I am a bitch at times, but he should know by now that I am not going to tolerate his taunting behavior. We ended up agreeing that they will come to the school near my village and do community education on Thursday afternoon. I did learn that women themselves have to report the issue, it cannot be reported on their behalf. This is going to be a much harder battle to fight, I hope if we get a women's right committee started they can be advocates for these battered women and encourage them to press charges. I left the office with a very cheery, "I hope a lot of assholes go to jail. Zikomo (thank you)!"

My computer every so kindly crashed in the middle of writing this blog post, I want to remind my computer that I live in the middle of nowhere in one of the poorest countries in the world, this means I may not be able to even find parts or get it fixed in the largest cities! It is working for the moment so I am just trying to enjoy it.

Yesterday I wanted to charge my phone which Mary has been very kindly letting me do on her battery, she said that Davey was going to be playing music at a house brewing local beer and if I was ok with it I could charge my phone there. I said sure, so Queen (her 16 year old niece) and I went. I have seen these men drink and I know they do it to extremes, I was prepared for this, I was also prepared to play mama bear to Queen. If any man even looked at her wrong I yelled at him. A boy and I got in a fight over where she could sit, of course I won. I was prepared for their comments, looks, and even the drunken dancing when they are unable to stand. I decided to try to be a good sport, after all I did not have to be there. I even tried their local beer, it basically tasted and had the texture of vomit going through a blender on crush mode, there were chunks of what I assume are maize flower in it. I was thoroughly disgusted and wanted to throw up. Needless to stay my drinking ceased after two sips.

There is something very sad to be about the local drinking scene. I cannot quite put my finger on it, maybe it is the overly drunken men who are not at home caring for their families or the miserable looking dog that keeps getting kicked and squealing. I try not to judge these things. I love to drink, I just feel my relationship with alcohol is very different than theirs, but I also know that if I had been born in a village and this is the way people drink than maybe I would be no different. What I was not prepared for was the drunk child who could not have been more than four years old. I saw his grandmother give him a sip of alcohol and this even made me very angry. I could tell that he was feeling it, he had a hard time walking and was very focused on the ground when trying to move. I said something to Davey about it, he said yes the child's parents are drunkards and they are not educated so do not know what they are doing. Then I saw the grandmother give the child a full cup of the "beer" which I should point out is much stronger than normal beer, there is no way of controlling or even knowing the alcohol content. The child took the cup and drank it in less than a minute. I was so upset, but I knew that the mother and grandmother were drunk and this was not the place to cause a scene. I kept hoping the child would fall asleep so they would stop giving him beer. Well he more than passed out not long later. I am hoping he kept breathing though the night. I told Mary and we are going to go talk to his mother tomorrow. I will be informing her that I will report this issue to the police if it happens again.

I really wish the people in my village would focus on one major issue at a time, it is becoming rather difficult to deal with them all. But how do I not do something about domestic violence, child abuse, and young girls prostituting. There are laws against all of these things, but like many things in Malawi they are not enforced. Nobody reports these issues, they just look the other way. This is something I am not willing to do.

Lose weight fast! All you have to do is follow three simple steps!

Ok since I have given you one blog post where I was bitching the whole time and another one that is horribly depressing I thought I could share my weight loss secrets with you. Consider it a gift for being so kind to me lately. Yes, I am writing this blog while eating a pizza and drinking a coke, and I have lost thirty pounds since being here. See I knew that gaining that disgusting 15 pounds before I came was worth it! I promise if you follow these steps you will loose weight too.

1. You know that nice convenient car you have sitting right outside your front door, time to move it. Find a huge hill where and park the car about 3.5 miles down it. This means no more multiple trips to the house with groceries, what you buy to eat for the week you must carry on your back up that hill. If you get excited and buy a small can of paint and a bottle of wine one weekend you will be carrying almost forty pounds up that dreadful hill. This also means that if you have forgot to get a phone number and need to set up a meeting you must get there somehow, even if it is four miles away up a very different hill. Then you want to charge your phone and laptop, well you better add five miles of walking unless you want to sit there for three hours waiting for things to charge. Oh look I just covered 13 miles today, where is my half marathon medal?!

2. Throw out that refrigerator, microwave, stove, and oven. You now cook over an open fire or a small charcoal stove. No fridge means you should say goodbye to those dairy products and meat you love so much. You can have meat when you go to town, it better be frozen solid because you have a hot 3.5 mile walk home, after hauling it around all day in the market of course. Cooking over a charcoal stove or on a fire will have you questioning if you are really hungry? I mean I did eat yesterday, that is good enough right? Is it really worth the preparation and waiting time? If you do decide you want to eat you should start the preparation about two hours before desired eating time. That means your blood sugar may drop a bit, keeping a jar of peanut butter and a spoon nearby is always handy.

3. The final step is attempt to live on a food budget of $15-20 dollars per week. Chips would be a great snack, oh they are $1.75 per medium bag, well they are going back on the shelf. Tuna would be great for an easy meal, it is $2.40 per can, well that is more than out of the budget! Same goes for all canned foods, drinks, and alcohol. These must be bought sparingly. Also you need to decide if it is worth carrying up that bloody (you're welcome my British friends, look what you have done to me) hill.

Hell if you feel like it, go crazy for awhile before starting this diet. Eat fast food six times a day, it does not matter. Once starting this diet all of the weight will just fall right off.

This picture makes me want to throw up the pizza and coke I just consumed, but I remembered I have that lovey walk home with so much stuff today. I will more than work it off.

Capetown for New Years, sorry about the awkward body shots, but I am not posing for any! Also sorry about the spills all over my dress, I knew I chose black for a reason.

Me in August vs in December. 

Little Whores: Volume 1

From the first few days in the village I had become aware that prostitution is very much present, and it starts very young. One night while Mary was showing me where a nearby grocery was we passed girls dancing along the dirt track. I assumed they just liked the music playing from the very over sized speakers on the porch of a brick house across the path. I noticed the girls were very young and I was watching them dance. Mary whispered, “Those girls dance along the path to attract boys, see that one with a baby on her back, she is 15 and had to drop out of primary school.” I said, “Are these girls prostitutes?” Mary who I think at first did not hear me said, “No.” I rephrased the question as I so often have to do, “Do these girls have money in exchange for sex?” Mary said, “Yes, they are trying to earn money, many of them are school girls.” My heart ached seeing the young girl with a baby strapped to her back swaying along to the music on that dirt path. I knew I needed to know more. 

 This week I asked a 21 year old school student that lives close to me if he knew any girls that were prostitutes. He said yes. I told him I wanted to speak with one and if he would let them know that would be great. This is how I met Ruth, she is a 17 year old girl who lives in my village. Ruth came to my house yesterday morning while I was cooking breakfast, I was not expecting her at this time. I also thought I would need a translator because Ruth left school during form two (which is equivalent to 10th grade). Ruth did not know why I had wanted to meet with her but I thought I would just give it a try. I offered her one of my two plastic chairs and cleaned up a bit. I then explained to Ruth why I had asked her to come meet with me. I told her I am looking to know more about prostitution and hear girls' stories. I also told her my ultimate goal/dream is to compile a book of these stories and maybe be able to start a scholarship program so girls could go to school. I asked Ruth if she was involved with prostitution, she said yes. I then asked if she was willing to tell me her story, and she was.

In July 2012 I was a border at a secondary school. I had heard from a boy that my father wanted to kill me. The boy lives in the same village as my father and said that he overhead my father saying he wanted to be a rich man, he needed to kill me so he would no longer have to pay my school fees. One night I was sleeping in my bed and I heard a knocking on the door. My roommate went to answer the door. Standing at the door was my father with a knife, I remembered what the boy told me about him wanting to kill me. My roommate asked, "Who are you?" My father saw me and screamed, "Yes, I want you! Just come out!" I said, "I am not coming out, I have heard you want to kill me." My father then became afraid and left. I went to tell my teacher that my father came to the school with a knife. The teacher gave me money for a minibus to go visit my father's mother. When I got to my grandmother I told her what had happened. She was very angry. She called my father and said, "You cannot kill her just because you do not want to pay school fees! I want to kill you!" Then my grandmother took me to the police, my father was arrested and put into jail.

One month after being in jail my father was released. When he got out, he came to the school, broke into my room and took my bedding, clothes, and books. He later burned them in front of his home. Because I had no more money for school or to replace my items I had to drop out. I then moved back into my mother's house. My mother has two children from a different man, a girl who is 23, and a boy who is 20. My brother is being supported by my grandparents to attend secondary school, because I am a girl, I am not supported. While living in my mother's house my brother got poison from my uncle and tried to kill me. Because I was afraid to stay at home I got money from my mom and some from my teacher and went to live in Lilongwe with another uncle. Life in Lilongwe was very good, I had clothes and plenty of food. I stayed with my uncle for three months until I heard the uncle that wanted me dead had been murdered. He stole two bags of maize from a rich man, the man became angry and poisoned him. I wanted to go home. I still did not feel safe at my mother's house because my brother was living there, so I moved into my dead uncle's home. My family supported me with some clothes and things for the home, also other family members have given me some food. But it is still not enough, many days I only eat once, and it is because a neighbor will see me walking by and offer to give me food.

On December 15th, 2013 I was visiting my grandmother in Ntcheu. While walking on the street I saw a boy that I had known. He asked me why I was not in school, I told him my story. He said, "I will pay your school fees if you will be with me." I agreed that I would have sex with him. We then went to his house. Yes, I enjoyed the sex and he was kind. I also insisted that he use a condom. When the sex was over he gave me 9,000 kwacha, this paid for my transport home and I bought some more clothes, and a mat for my house.

I asked Ruth if she had continued prostitution and she said no. When I asked why she said this boy had died in a car accident exactly two weeks later. She also said that her friend told her about HIV and that it is dangerous. Something tells me Ruth is not telling the whole truth, but it is her story and I have promised to keep it private from anyone in the village, so there is no way I can be sure. I gave her quite a few potatoes and two eggplants for telling me her story. I had the feeling she was not leaving until I gave her something, I am more than ok sharing some of my food with her. If even half of this story is true it is more than appalling. So many girls here are the victims of crimes and sexual crimes. I had learned of a cultural practice recently. When a girl starts her period she is seen as mature, but the family does not want to speak to her about sex, so they call in a man to take her somewhere private and have sex with her. The children are not told what is happening to them or even that is what sex is, they are just shown. I am not sure how common this practice still is, but it is sickening. Yesterday Mary and I spoke to two young girls about sex because she overheard one being teased by her older sister at the water pump, she was saying, "What are you doing? You are supposed to be matured, many of your friends have babies, you should be having sex." The girl is 15 and still in primary school. When I asked her if she has had sex Mary said, she may not know she has but there is a cultural practice here that happens when a girl reaches puberty. The girl did not admit to having had sex, but I can never know how much of the truth I am being told.

Tomorrow Mary and I are going to a nearby market to try to interview more prostitutes. The headteacher at Bilia secondary school told me many girls are absent on Wednesdays and he believes they go to the market to prostitute. I will see what I can uncover.

I love my girls Martha and Kate, I hope they will never have prostitution in their future. Living in a very poor place like Malawi has made their future very uncertain. 

I'm laughing because if I don't laugh I will cry.

Well these past three weeks have been more than testing. I have wanted to completely loose it several times a day, and I have lost it a couple of times. I am not trying to complain or make anyone feel sorry for me, I am happy, very happy. But it is not easy, and I knew it would not be easy. If it were easy, I would probably not be here. I am the type of person that likes a challenge.

One of the most frustrating things I am dealing with is the lack of motivation. The organization has not had any funding therefor cannot pay any of its employees. Well it turns out that people getting paid do not want to work. I need a translator in order to get anything done! I have decided my Chichewa is equivalent to that of a two year old's ability to speak. The other day I told a man, "You, we go home. You, I am coming tomorrow morning at 7:30." I think he figured out I said he could go home and he actually did come the next morning at 7:30. But other than knowing how to say, goat, eggs, chicken, baby, you, me, and let's go, I am lost. I cannot communicate with any villages chiefs let alone teach a lesson on my own. This makes me feel very helpless and lazy some days. One day everything was cancelled for the day (which seems to happen most days since I have been back from South Africa), I was so bored I read an entire book, washed my clothes, cleaned my house, and walked about 3 miles just to charge my phone, by three o'clock I did not know what the hell to do with myself. My frustrations just kept growing with each little thing. It is hard to not be able to talk to anybody about things either. Every time I try to tell a Malawian that I am upset or even if I am just trying to stay on top of something they say, "Don't worry, don't worry" and laugh. I think they are pretty lucky they have not been punched yet. A very good example of this was, I had been talked into lending somebody money, 8,000 kwacha, she still owed me 2,000 kwacha from two months before. That equals about $25. I know that does not seem like a lot, but that is my weekly budget right now, and I really cannot afford that much. Anyway, I asked her if she was going to pay me back before I left for the weekend, she laughed and said yes, yes, don't worry. Well I was fucking worried, and guess what, I only got 6,500 kwacha back. So now she will owe me the other 3,500 until I leave I am sure.

The day before I was due to meet Anna (friend I met at Ripple) in Lilongwe I was just fuming mad, everything had beyond built up. I just wanted to charge my phone. Well this was even a chore, nobody had power. I finally found somebody that would charge it for me almost two miles from my house, because I did not want to walk 8 miles I stayed and waited for it to charge. I am smart enough to always bring a book with me wherever I go now. Well children were gathered around watching me read, this was annoying me, but I did not say anything. Then they were fighting and running with wet feet on concrete floors, pushing baby goats down who were slipping and falling onto the concrete floors. I was more than annoyed, a few times I told them to stop and that would last about ten seconds. But I did knew it was not fair to take my frustrations out of them, instead I very passively aggressively would mumble, "If you have a head injury to not expect me to be your fucking nurse today, I am not in the mood." Then I decided it was best if I just left because it was not their fault I was angry. On my way back through a kid, who yes was the one doing most of the goat pushing and running around, was being carried out by two other kids. An older man walking by just grabs a stick and starting beating the kid. I am still not sure what the kid did wrong, but unless he murdered somebody he did not deserve to be beat this way. The kid who was probably around 10 years old was screaming and the man was hitting him with this branch, first I just stopped and said, "What did he even do? Why are you hitting him?" Then the man hit the kid in the face, pushed him to the ground, and broke the stick off so it would hurt even more. I had enough, I lost it. I went over there and was screaming at the man, how I kept my hands to myself I am not sure. But he finally stopped and looked at me, "I said you do not hit kids in the face!" He just continued to look at me, I said, "Fuck you!" I know he did not know English, but I am sure he can guess what I said. I have decided I think I need to add fuck you to my toddler like vocabulary. I am not sure it will make me feel as good though. I know that was not the proper way to act, but I think I need to just let it out here, nobody gets really angry or talks about frustrations or listens, so if screaming fuck every now and then helps me, then I am ok with it.

I then walked as fast as I could towards home, I need to call my dad and let some of it out. Of course skype barely works in the village anymore and all he could hear was me crying. He said, "Why don't you just come home?" I swear sometimes it is as if he does not know me, all this did was frustrate me more. I screamed, "How many times did I call you crying from home? I never call you crying from here! I am just mad! I am allowed to be mad sometimes!" He then said he thought I could do more good at home. Well that got me on another rant. I think he just gave up after that.

Thankfully the next day I was off to see Anna. Just knowing I was leaving that morning for a bit made me feel so much better. I then got to Lilongwe and was immediately frustrated by drunk men in my face, a few more fuck yous were thrown out but I managed to make it to the office to work on my visa. Before I left for South Africa I applied and paid for a Temporary Residence Visa, I was told it was valid for 6 months regardless if I left the country or not. Well on my way back in Malawi they told me it was no longer valid because I left the country. So I went back to try to sort it out. The same officer who gave me the last visa now said, "Oh no it is not valid if you leave the country." Me, "Why did you tell me it was then? I said I was going to South Africa." Officer, "Well if you want one that is good to leave the country you have to go to Blantyre." I was so annoyed, she could not have told me that before? So I got two more months of an extension and will have to go try to sort it out in April. It sucks though because it makes my visa not match up with the amount of time I want to be here. My new goal is to make it til December. My money is running out and it is just nice to have a goal sort of close. We will see what happens come December though!

So I finished up at the immigration office where I of course had to stand in line for over an hour just to pay. A woman behind me was not happy that I wanted to not be smashed in the line, she stood so close her boobs where hitting my back the entire time. You can imagine what this did for my anger level, then at one point I maybe let the man in front of me get about 12 inches away (in America I would have still been invading his personal space) and the woman behind me tapped me and said, "Scoot up!" I turned to her and said, "It is not going to get you to the front of the line any faster!" She left me alone after that. So when I finished I went straight to Mabuya and ordered a double rum and coke and waited on Anna. She showed up and we had dinner, then decided we should go out. Neither of us had ever been out in Lilongwe, I have been invited by a lot of people but have always just went to bed. Well we were immediately offered a ride and to be chauffeured around. We drank and danced and had a good time. After about two hours of sleep we woke up and got ready to head to Liwonde National Park, it is only about 40km from my house. Of course when we got to a bus we had to sit in it two hours before it left. We were a bit worried about getting there after dark, just because we did not know the place and how to get there. When we arrived to the bus stop there was so many men in our faces as usual. They were insistent on taking us on a bicycle taxi, it was rainy and getting dark, plus we had a lot of things, so we said no. Then a man finally agreed to take us in a car, well he took forever and another truck pulled up, so we got in. The truck was barely functioning, bicycle taxis were passing us, the windshield wipers did not work either and it was dark and raining. The man we had promised to take yelled at us and jumped in the back of the truck, I kept checking to make sure he did not throw our stuff out. I was also worried Anna was going to fall out of the truck, the door would barely shut, we joked that at least we were moving so slow she could just get up and climb right back in. The ride down was so long and I was not sure we were going to make it, they kept trying to raise the price also. Anna at one point said, I am laughing because if I was not laughing I would be crying. I was glad I was not the only one feeling this way. Well we finally made it and I refused to pay what they asked. After dinner we went straight to bed.

The next day we went on a boat safari, the river was filled with hippos. Our guide had pretty much no knowledge of animals I am sure. She would say, see they are greeting you, oh these hippos are so friendly that is why we get so close to them in the boat. Umm... lady did you know hippos kill more people than any other type of animal in Africa? One day I think a hippo will decide it is not actually so friendly and they will see they are not greeting everyone, it was a warning all of these years. She did know that hippos produce pink milk, Anna and I felt the need for google to back this up for us, it is actually true. We were unable to go out on a truck safari that afternoon so we went the next morning. Our safari truck was a pickup with a bench set in the back. But it worked! I was really disappointed we did not see any elephants. Well they kept trying to show them to us about 1 mile away in the binoculars, I did not care to see them that far away, I wanted them close! I think during the dry season I will go back, you see a lot more animals then. We did see lots of warthogs which have become one of my favorite animals, they are so funny.

Monday afternoon Anna and I headed back to my house, she wanted to see the village. I was excited to have a visitor. Walking up the huge hill to my house we met Mary on her bike. She said, "Kendall I do not want you to worry but we saw that your back window has been removed. Your wardrobe is opened and stuff is all over the floor." I realized somebody had broke in. I thought, well I have my valuables with me so no big deal. I did not think of what else they would want in my house. Anna and I got back to survey the damage. There were so many people I have worked with gathered around my house. They were all concerned about what had happened. I started going through my stuff and realized a lot of stuff was gone. They took one of my huge duffel bags and filled it with tons of stuff; running shoes (I think I am most angry about these missing), my small backpack, tons of t-shirts, running shorts, tank tops, chitentes, all of my bedding, battery charger, solar battery converter, rice, sugar, soy sauce (so annoying because I cannot find any around here!), milk powder, and all of my dvds (about 70). I am pretty annoyed that somebody thinks they can do this to me and get away with it. I finally realized, wait people here are so nosy and somebody saw something. Well a woman did see the man with my stuff. So my neighbor Davey has been working endlessly to try to find the guy. On Wednesday I went with Davey to a market nearby to make sure he was not selling my stuff there. I did not see anything except a goat being tied to a tree and slaughtered, it made me want to throw up. I have decided not to go to the market early in the mornings anymore and to stay away from the meat section. After the market Davey wanted to go into the village because he got a tip from somebody. I went to the police station to file my official complaint. I was already annoyed when I got there because they acted like they did not know what I was talking about, Mary had already been to the police station twice. He took my statement and I asked what are you going to do about it. He said we will investigate. I said how? He did not have an answer. Davey called and said that he found the guy in the village and I should come with the police. This policeman and his colleges were moving much slower than I do. The policeman said, "Oh Kendall you like moving." I said, "Yes, I do not like to walk slow, I also like to run." He said, "I am the best runner, like a cheetah." I said, "Well I bet I can run further than you." He said, "I do not think so, I ran 10k once!" I looked at him and laughed and said, "When I get my running shoes back we will see who can run further." I am determined to show him I am better than he is. Well we got into the village, they did not want me to come because they said it would be suspicious. I told him they do not know how to work or get anything done so I need to monitor that they are doing so. The guy ran before we had even got there. I said, "Well you need to go back and get him then! He will return home sometime." They laughed and said, "Kendall he is a criminal." I said, "Oh I see you do not know how to catch criminals." One police officer kept saying, "You see Kendall we use intelligence to catch them." I said, "Actually you do not do jack shit. You have never caught anybody in your life." He said, "We will arrange a time to go back to his house." I said, "When?!" He said, "We will arrange a time." I said, "Oh in two weeks? It has been two days and you have not once left your office trying to help me!" Then I started walking faster and was getting angrier. One policeman was laughing and I heard him saying, "Two days." Well I lost it again, "I said oh you think it is fucking funny? Yes it has been two days and you have not done shit. By the time you get off of your fucking asses to do anything my stuff will be gone!" They shut up for a few minutes then and stuck to speaking in Chichwea. I felt bad that Davey saw me get this upset and yell, but I knew in order for them to do anything it needed to happen. Davey told me later that night the policemen said they are going to work as hard as they can, they do not want me to be angry with them again. I guess a bystander also said, "Oh Kendall was very angry." I think I might have a temper added to my reputation soon. It is more than true so I am ok with it.

Oh course I have heard nothing back about my stuff, and I do not think I will be getting anything back. The organization hired a watchman for me. They wanted him there 24/7. I am not sure how one man could be there full time and I want my privacy. I am fearful what they wanted was my laptop, I think the break in happened because I have been taking my laptop out to charge now. But I do not think anybody will come in at night, and if they do I am prepared to fight. Nobody here is malicious or violent. I think I am probably the most angry violent person in this whole country. I have been told I should hire a witch doctor. I was all for it if the witch doctor knew the robber and said he would cast a spell on him if he did not return my stuff. But then I was told a witch doctor in Ntcheu was good, this is over 20 miles from my house. I quickly told them magic is bullshit and I am not paying them for anything.

In other news I have continued my teaching HIV at the schools. Turns out I hate primary school kids and trying to teach them. I would like to stick with secondary school if I could. I also did sexual behavior surveys in one school. I am not sure how truthful the kids actually were, many of them said they have never had sex. Some did admit to many partners, never using condoms, and either taking money or paying for sex. I will be interested to see what the next school shows, I may try to conduct the surveys in a different way. I then met a 17 year old girl who is a prostitute and pregnant. I was shocked at her honesty, she said no she never uses condoms, men say if I am paying for sex I am not using a condom, she also started prostituting at 16, she has about one man per week, for each time she has sex she charges 2,500 kwacha, this is almost $6. I was shocked that she actually gets paid that much, it angers me because of the level of poverty here, yet people can find that much money to pay for sex. She is an orphan, both of her parents died when she was a toddler, she has been living with her grandmother. Her grandmother knows she is a prostitute and has not said anything to her about it (I believe it is encouraged), her sister told her that she needed to become a prostitute. I asked about the baby's father, she states that she knows who it is, it was one of her clients. I asked what is she going to do if the father does not take responsibility for the baby, she said she will find another man that will.

Prostitution is such a problem in the village I live in. I think this week since I have nothing to do I want to go to the markets and offer girls some money to tell me their stories. I want to know more about what is really happening. I have also heard there is a 13 year old orphan that is pregnant, I want to talk to her as well. It makes me sick that young girls must live this life, and then they have babies that cannot be properly cared for.

I have also picked up a bunch of condoms and HIV testing kits, I plan to do some outreach teaching and offer HIV testing on the spot. I went to the closest clinic this week and it is appalling how few people are tested. This needs to change! I am also planning on meeting with the District Health Officer in a couple of weeks, I am going to ask if I can volunteer on the Pediatric Ward every couple of weeks for a shift. I need some hospital and actual medical work, teaching is great but I miss being a nurse. I also hope they will appreciate my help and stock me up with things like condoms and HIV testing kits when I come. And maybe it will make them do something about the clinic in my village! It will be hard to ignore me when I am always around!

The last project I have on my plate right now is trying to get a grant from the U.S. government. The grant is supposed to be for income generating activities. I had already been brainstorming that I could do before I knew about the grant. The most simple and (hopefully) effective thing I could think of is a chicken project. I want to start out with about 100 chicks, raise them, and when they start to multiply give them out to villagers. I also want to make an application process, if a person meets a certain criteria, for example has an under fiver year old under weight or has so many children and has lost their spouse, is caring for orphans, they can get a few chickens for free. If people are not eligible for free chickens, or want more chickens,  I would like them to do a job to earn the chickens, such as build toilets for the preschool, participate in a HIV awareness campaign, or other things to help the community. Chickens can be useful to a family in many ways, eggs, chicks, manure for fertilizer, and meat. They can sell some of these things and if they do not sell they can also use them in their household for an improved diet. I also would like to buy as many chick as possible for my start up flock in the village, it will be a great way to put money into the village. I need to look at the application and get working on it. Not easy to do when I do not have power in my house.

Well I will stop my ranting, I think it has went on long enough. I need to get ready to head home. I only have about 50lbs to carry up my 3.25 mile hill. Yay! I am currently debating if I can afford the bottle of wine I want, I didn't buy a blanket so I could afford it. I figured I will just layer up my clothes at night and be fine. I have priorities.

If you do not want to read all of that here are some pictures from the past few weeks.

This is the baby the family has requested I name. Meet baby Douglas. No I did not tell them it is after my dead dog.

Martha and Kate are best friends and pretty darn cute.

Our fancy safari truck.