went to Malawi on a mission from God be back by 5

So I went to Malawi. Yes.

I’m living in Blantyre, a city in the South, in support of an orphanage project started by Tracy Hills, a woman that my dad introduced me to. I’m here on an volunteer basis to help train their hired man, George (a Malawian who’s worked with other NGO’s), and generally to fill in the gaps as an all-purpose helper, since Tracy herself will be living in the States except for visits every 3-4 months or so. I’m living in a sort of dormitory right now, on the Feed the Children (an NGO) complex, with a number of Malawian staff and disabled children that are being helped by their program. The village where the orphanage is to be built is a few kilometers outside of town, and that’s where I’ll be living for the bulk of my time here, if things go as planned. I’m here largely due to a nice donation from my Grandmother, who recently sold the farm and contributed to my expense debits as a sort of charitable offering/tithe/tax deduction. My plan is to be here for about 9 months, give or take--possibly until the money runs out.

Up to speed? Yes.

And . . . you know, what about the girl? Is she going to . . . you know, wait around?

Well, I wouldn’t exactly put it that way. She’s got a burgeoning acting career to attend to, a psychotic boss to ditch, and my car to babysit while I’m gone. I have, in fact, also put her on my savings account, so if I screw up, she can skip town with all of the $700 stored there. I mean, you could live on that for like, a month. I am worth more than a month. I just know it. But, in a sense, yes. She’s going to wait. How awesome is that? Did I hit the jackpot? Yes, I hit the jackpot. Beautiful, talented, smart (er than me), and patient? I win. Hey, friends: Don’t let me screw this one up, okay?

Had a talk the other day with the villagers. See, they’re looking for a place for me to live. I’m learning Chichewa, but don’t really speak it yet. So through a translator, they said,
“So here’s the problem. There isn’t any place around here with electricity.”
And I said: “Oh, no no no. I don’t need electricity! I don’t even want it!”
“Uhh, right. Whatever. The other problem is, we don’t have anyone to cook American meals for you.”
“No no no no no no no. I don’t want American meals. I’ve been eating nsima. I just want to live like you guys. No special stuff!”
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha let’s kill him and cast lots for his clothing. No, seriously though. You’re lying to us, right?”
“NO!”
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Let’s laugh!”

This could be an uphill battle. Fun though.

Oh, and no diarrhea yet. Which is pretty great. I feel like someone from a Pepcid AC commercial.