Lookin' all official

That was me this weekend: getting up in front of about 20 or so sociologists of religion and pretending like I was one of them. Afterwards, I hit receptions with cash bars and scheduled lunches and basically tried to push my way onto the radars of some pretty significant people in my field.

Is this my life? Someone pinch me.

Why I write

It may seem odd, writing a post with such subject line, when I haven't written one in two months. My life, though, is scattered with moments that revolve around this question of "why writing", and I think I just had one. So, the only logical thing to do....

I was sitting here, in my office hours, recieving a slow trickle of Intro to Sociology assignments (I will be grading about 80 of them this weekend--that fact could be furthered discussed in a post entitle "why I DON'T write"), reading some of my friends' blogs. A couple of them have had babies recently, a few of them I haven't talked to in awhile, and reading their blogs makes me feel closer to them than I would be able to be otherwise. Then, I thought I might mosey on over to my own personal cyber-forum, seeing as I hadn't been in awhile... and then, I started reading some of my past posts. And I started to realize something: I write for ME.

I honestly believe that if I didn't write, I would have a much thinner conception of myself, my past, and where I am going. When I read what I've written a year ago, I think: oh YEAH, wow! That's where I was, and I have THAT in me!! We all know that modern life is like a rushing river, carrying us along and leaving us just enough time to frantically paddle. My paddling has been more frantic than ever this semester, and it's due to a combination of institutionalized norms that I'm living up to and my own D-R-I-V-E. I'm quite good at envisioning projects and accomplishments, and I am capable of seeing them through--I just still don't have the best sense of how much is reasonable to expect of myself in terms of time and energy (and emotional health). Yet thank God, I still from time to time have these moments, where the words I've written along the way mark where I've been, and I realize that the moving rush of my personal narrative is bigger than a career, than a family life, than moving around the country, or simply a chronicle of events and accomplishments. The Intro to Sociology assignments I will be grading this weekend are papers about narratives--how our lives fit into overarching collective narratives, how we understand our lives in terms of those narratives, and how narratives are more than just historical chronicles. They tell the moments plus the meanings of those moments. They enable us to understand ourselves and our world.

My narrative, then, is not about this job, that job, this person, that person; it's about learning love, feeling deep, clumsily trying to mimic the beauty I see around me, cleaning up dark corners, and responding to the spiritual reality of life. There is a beginning, middle, end, hero, villain, climax, plot, theme; and what's more, it's not just about me or even primarily about me....

It's about everyone.

Step into my office.

These days, I have been working some from coffeeshops and some from home. Working from home is, obviously, easier on my grad-student-esque financial situation, and now there's even more reason to: my new house has a really lovely front porch.

Every morning this week I have worked on this front porch. It is, in fact, the only place in the house that I am able to pick up (or pirate, or steal, or whatever you want to call it) wireless internet, and that is an absolute essential for time-wasting email-checking every 20 min. Another thing I like: Austin is hot in the summer, right? Well, and this should be news to all you northerners, it IS hot, but because of the ubiquity of AC, nobody ever really notices. It's not an issue, only very rarely bothersome in any sort of way. Yet true to form, I feel a bit guilty about that (read once in adbusters magazine that it takes twice as much energy to decrease the temp of an environment by one degree than to increase it). So now that the magic happens on my front porch everyday, I get to really FEEL the heat. By 4:30 my skin feels clammy and little beads of sweat are hanging out on my upper lip. And YES, I LIKE that. I feel like I am REALLY living in Austin, connecting to the land and to the seasons rather than to an artificial environment. Wendell Berry would be proud.

The other things that I like, in no particular order, are: the old movie seats (that say "Century theaters" on the arms and have very convenient cupholders) that we have on the porch; feeling like I might actually get to know some of my neighbors this way (or at least, gain some notoriety); watching the grass in our lawn grow (which it is very, very good at); classic Massive Attack albums such as Blue Lines, for example, and the song "Be Thankful for What You Got" (look it up and listen to it, you won't be sorry); parenthetical statements (in case you didn't already notice).

One more thing. Yesterday morning, I had just settled in with my laptop and coffee and the mailman, Harry comes sidling up to our mailbox. I decide to walk out to take the mail from him personally, which I used to love to do as a kid for some reason. I think I associated the arrival of the mail each day with excitement and suspense, even though I recieved a lot less mail than Mr. "Current Resident." Anyway, he looks at me with my coffee in hand and says, "You look like you don't have a care in the world!" I laugh and say, "Well, I guess I don't!" He replies, "Show me how! Show me how..." and shakes his head and drives off.

Well, Mr. Mailman, when I really figure it out, I'll let you know. In the meantime, I just hope that you too have a porch.

One thing I love about Austin is:

Doing my work at a downtown sidewalk cafe and watching the ducky tours go by.

And now, some photos

It's not easy for me to choose just a few of these that encapsulate all that I did and saw when I was in Malawi. So, I'm not thinking to hard about it--just throwing these out there:









None of these pictures are really representative of my day-to-day there. They were all taken on special and unusual days. On the average day, we never get around to taking pictures. There's always "tomorrow" to capture the shop where we buy water everyday, the Malawian friends we've been working with, the minibusses that we ride regularly, the family at the restaurant where we went every day for dinner. True to my form as a poor photo-documentater, I didn't get pictures of any of those things. But at least you can see how beautiful it is there.

Back in Black

... or in Austin, rather.

Life on the return has been a bit of an onslaught. I have been realizing so vividly how many of the considerations and worries of the crazy American lifestyle (and my personal grad school version) took back seat when I was in Africa.

Exhibit A: Personal appearance. Malawian women can, when they want to, do themselves up; but they also have few qualms about walking around with their hair a mess and their oldest clothes on. And they certainly don't worry about "looking fat." I didn't either, when I was there, which demonstrated to me just how pervasive the subtle influence of cultural ideals can be. Back home, the whole comparison, self-assessment, and self-rejection process of Body Image rushed back like a bad memory. I hate that it "has" me, and I just can't shake it.

Yes, here comes the first of many sweeping cultural generalizations: we are much more self-aware here than they are there, as I have experienced it. We worry about being cool, looking great, working out, being thin, glowing skin, bronzing powder, dressing to the nines, etc. etc. etc.; and it's a trap. You never win. It's worth barely a fraction of the energy we put into it.

So, any ideas on how to get free of this problem? Should we all just ship off to Malawi?

Now Boarding to Amsterdam

... so i really shouldnt be writing this post, i should be heading to my gate, but i just cant help myself.

I am in Nairobi, where i spent the day unexpectedly; my flight out of lilongwe delayed 7 hours, setting off my whole itinerary. the only things i mind are: standing in long and motionless lines for about a total of 8 hours, sleeping on hard chairs in the airport cause all the hotels in nairobi are full, and also wearing the same clothes for three days straight, cause my baggage is still checked. other than that, its been a great adventure, and i have talked to people literally from all over the world since i arrived at the airport last night. i also got a hot shower and good food this afternoon, so I am not complaining.

Goodbye, Africa. I can't say I'll miss the hecticness of traveling within your borders, but that of course is nothing compared to all I have seen and enjoyed. Goodbye for now!

Lilongwe Hotel

I have a major confession: I spent the last week in a nice hotel with a hot shower, television, and an unbelievable breakfast buffet.

What happened is this: the National AIDS Commission conference. Most of the people who have been working on the research project here have submitted papers to this conference at one point or another, and it just so happened that one woman had submitted but could not be present to present ( :) ) so I stood in. I stood in for her presentation, her hotel bed, her shower, her free meals, and her wireless internet.

This afternoon, though, I must head away and get back to real life. How spoiled I have been.

Pictures will come. And they will blow you away.

Well I've been absent for a bit. I've been on a tiny little island called Likoma for the past week--you can find it on a map in the middle of Lake Malawi. There really isn't internet on this island. I don't think anywhere. But it IS absolutely, stunningly beautiful. so, refer to headline--pictures are coming.
two and a half weeks left, and the whole "point" of this summer is starting to come into focus. I didn't follow the schedule I had planned initially, and I certainly did not have the structure of research work I had anticipated. Far from it. But I've really had a rich slice of Malawian culture, and so many ideas now are floating around in my brain for future research and writing. I'm kind of broke too, which I didnt anticipate. But I also am starting to think about what it means to be "broke" in an entirely different way. Like, these researchers who were supposed to pay my way and didnt or did only partially are the ones who really provide for me. My life is a strong, purposefully-guided and richly-supplied stream that flows apart from any temporary employment, funding, or lack of income. I believe it sometimes. Just wish I could BE-LIIEEEEEVE it.
I was like a parched and starving pilgrim today when I checked my email inbox. I miss the people at home so much. Everyone of you--it almost hurts, how disconnected I've been from even the people closest to me. Communication is there, true, but complicated and expensive. Soooo.... I am holding out for a few more weeks.
And if you've contacted me and I havent responded, know that I wish I could. Know that I really, really wish I could. Know that I will have plenty to share when I finally do.

The Modern Age has reached Malawi

I am sitting here, in Mchinji district, a VERY rural area near the border between Malawi and Zambia, on the district hospital, picking up wireless internet. If you could just see my surroundings, how rustic, how traditional, how rural, you would understand how wierd that is. One thing that continually suprises me here is just how connected to the world of communications technology even the most remote areas are here in africa. A LOT of people have cell phones (but only very few have televisions). Even people without running water have cell phones. And people out here do have a sense of the global culture, of the West and East and everything in between, that continually takes me off guard. Globalization is for real.
Unfortunately, though, the connection still isn't quite fast enough to post photos, which I had so much wanted to do. So those will have to wait.
Work is starting to pick up here, which is good, and I am more busy than I have been the past two weeks. I am here in Mchinji, at a beautiful and peaceful inn, working on a project where we interview locals who work as HIV testing counselors, asking them about their experiences and attitudes toward testing. In two weeks, I go to Likoma Island, where we are doing actual testing and network mapping on the island. I have heard that Likoma, especially is beautiful; but I have to say, this country has everything when it comes to landscape. Rolling, flourescent green tea plantations; mountains towering into the clouds; wide, grassy spaces dotted with sculptural trees; hardwood forests of towering trees with ivory-colored bark; and lush vegetation in all colors everywhere. And I still haven't been to the lake, the crowning jewel of this small country.

Now, don't you wish I could've posted some pictures??