Day's Diary

March 7, 2007 ~ Martyrs' Day

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Monday was Martyrs’ Day, a national holiday in Malawi. I’m told that under the President for Life, it was a solemn day of mourning for those who gave their lives for the independence of the country. During that time, one could be arrested for dong anything lively on that day. All stores were closed, without exception. No one, under any circumstances, was to be out engaging in life as normal. With a freer democracy, that has all changed. It is still a national holiday, which means that schools and government offices and many businesses are closed, but stores are open and many people go about life as normal, except that many don’t have to go to school or work. It is similar to Presidents’ Day in the U.S., except without the major sales in the department stores, since there are no department stores to speak of.

What it meant for me was that I had no classes. Sue Makin, an PC(USA) medical missionary at Mulanje Mission Hospital called me on Wednesday of last week and asked if I had plans for Martyrs’ Day and when I said no, she suggested she come up to Zomba and we do something together. That sounded like fun to me, so we made plans. She was on call on Saturday and couldn’t come until Sunday and I had to preach at Balaka on Sunday and then do a partnership meeting afterwards. Balaka is about an hour north of Zomba. Scheduling is just as tricky here as in the States. She decided to come up after church in Mulanje, play 18 holes of golf at the Zomba course, which she enjoys, and by that time I should be back from Balaka, or at least soon after. Sunday morning, I left instructions for Ella and Ephraim to let her in and make her comfortable until I got back and off I went to Balaka at 6 a.m. with three students to do the service and the meeting. Only one of the students was coming to the service. I was taxi service for the other two, so they could visit their homes, which are along the way and we would pick them up on the way back.

The second service and the meeting took longer than some others had; then we had dinner with the committee, and went to see the Women’s Guild’s construction project. That was about 3 p.m. The student from Balaka had hoped we could visit her home and experience “home grown chicken.” Her sister had already prepared it. The compromise, at her suggestion, was that we stop and pick up the chicken and take it with us. I agreed and so we headed back, via her home, about 4 miles off the main road in Balaka.

While we were waiting for the chicken to be packaged, I heard thunder in the not too far distance. That is never a good sign late in the afternoon after a very hot day. Storms are coming. We left as quickly as we could without being rude and headed back to Zomba, picking up passengers along the way. We had everyone in the truck and all the katundu (stuff – everyone had something to bring from home) loaded in the back and were underway when the rains hit. They hit with a vengeance. I can’t remember when I have had so much difficulty seeing as I drove in rain. The wipers were going as fast as they could; I slowed down to be able to see better and we all prayed. Between oncoming cars whose drivers were having the same problem I was seeing, pedestrians still walking, regardless of the rain, and rivers of water flowing on the road, it was an adventure. This kept up for about half an hour. When we finally drove into lighter rain, we all praised God for the safety. Needless to say, the trip took longer than an hour.

When I finally arrived home, Sue was waiting, relaxed and comfortable. She had had some rain on the golf course, but not enough to stop her from playing. She had been made welcome and was enjoying reading. We decided to just make it a comfortable evening at the house which was fine with me after the drive home. I unpacked the truck, hung out to dry all the things that got soaked because the back of the truck had not been secured with the last of the katundu that was loaded, and got into jeans and a t-shirt. I was on holiday with a friend! Sue is the first American I have spent time with since I arrived in Malawi. Now, please don’t get me wrong. I enjoy being with Malawian friends and other internationals. That is part of the fun of living here, but every once in awhile it is nice to have time with someone who speaks the same language, with the same accent. If we had done nothing but talked, I would have thought the time a success. I think Sue felt the same way. We talked until late into the night.

Monday morning, after sleeping in (I didn’t get up until 6:30 and Sue came out of the guest room about 7 a.m.), we had a leisurely breakfast and decided to go for a walk through the Botanical Gardens here in Zomba. I didn’t even know where they were, but Sue had stayed in Zomba for 6 weeks when she first arrived 8 years ago, to learn Chichewa, and she had explored the area and knew the spots to see. We had a great time walking around the grounds. Zomba was the seat of Parliament during the British rule and the gardens are just across the road from the old Parliament buildings. The buildings are abandoned, but the gardens are not. They are well kept. In addition to the plants and trees, there is a stream and water falls, rocks to climb and Malawian woodlands to be explored. The way they were placed reminded me of Southern California, with the lush vegetation of bougainvillea and Natal plum and cactus plants of all varieties. Then there were places that reminded me of Ohio Pyle Falls, in the mountains for Western Pennsylvania, with a stream and rushing water (thanks to the rain of the day before) and rocks. And then there were places that could only be Malawi, with a grass shelter for rest and a precarious footbridge over the stream. It was a delight of sight and sound and smell. We walked for about an hour and just enjoyed God’s creation and man’s cultivation.

 

Sue wanted to visit a small cemetery she had come across that was a final resting place for soldiers who had fought in World Wars I and II in the African campaigns. One was an English soldier by the name of Makin. She wanted to look more closely. I had driven by it a number of times but didn’t know what it was. We walked through and looked at markers and read headstones. It seemed fitting on Martyrs’ Day. The cemetery has graves from the early 1900’s to the present. Many who are buried there died young, either in war or from disease. Some of the headstones were quite elaborate – Malawians and internationals buried side by side. It was a place for quiet reflection in a different way from the Gardens.

Sue had to leave shortly after lunch. She is sponsor for 2 young men who are enrolled at the Polytechnic in Blantyre. One is an orphan and the other has only an elderly grandmother. Sue has helped them with their education since they finished secondary school. The Polytechnic resumed classes on Tuesday. So she drove to Mulanje (through Blantyre – a 2 hour trip), picking up the boys and their katundu and took them to Blantyre to get settled. Then she returned to Mulanje. She was delighted to do all that driving because she says her “boys” are worth it. They are bright and hold the future of Malawi.

I don’t know what Martyrs’ Day should be, but from my perspective, this one was a good holiday: a welcome change of pace and time with a good friend. What more could you ask for?