Little House in the Woods

The past 24 hours have featured some of the most significant, joyous, and simply heartwarmingly domestic moments in Malawi so far.  Friday marked the 3-month anniversary of my arrival in this country, the 3-week anniversary of my move to my permanent village, the finale of my first week teaching a full schedule of classes, and the first real, shining, honest-to-goodness moments of feeling my house becoming a home. 
This has been my first weekend with a fence around my yard, pictures on the wall, vegetables resting on a real table, and not just one but two kittens perpetually resting in my lap or perched on my shoulder. All these little things together have built up a lazy, consummate sort of contentment that is exactly what I’ve been needing – the soft mental hum of a slow Saturday spent in my own space, with the autonomy to do whatever I want.

But before I get too caught up in the present, let’s retreat back to the land of last month’s news: when it comes to permanent sites, I lucked out.

            My village is a mysterious land that goes by many names: a place in Mzimba district that is locally known as Mtangatanga, sometimes conflated with the nearby village of Chikangawa, but most often just known as Raiply (pronounced “rye-ply,” not “rapely,” as I originally thought), the name of the timber company that employs most of the area’s residents. In fact, Raiply built most of the local houses and the school where I teach, resulting in something that feels less like a remote village and more like a piece of Malawian-flavored suburbia.

Topping my list of favorite things about my village:

- The fact that it is the last major outpost on a windswept plateau at the edge of the largest artificial forest in Africa, and yet…

- it’s still on the main highway and only a one-hour minibus ride from Mzuzu, the northern region’s largest city.

- I have fantastic Malawian neighbors, all sweethearts, who drop by several times a day to chat in Chitumbuka and make me feel loved and supported in every possible way

- …along with equally fantastic Indian neighbors who give me delicious food and free rides

- …and a community of vervet monkeys that come just close enough to be entertaining and a little thrilling, but not close enough to be scary or annoying

I'm staying in a little brick house with (usually, but sometimes just theoretically) electricity and running water, two freshly painted rooms, an open porch, and a bathroom with a shower and sit-down toilet (in the former there’s only cold water, and in the latter the seat is actually missing…but still). The company has generously donated the space, the fence, and the furniture, while footing all my utilities-related expenses, and any worries about my safety while living alone can be assuaged by the fact that I’m located within a guarded compound that is itself within another guarded compound, located within the grounds where the senior staff stay.

And this iiiiiiis...Annie and Elsa! They like stealing my oatmeal and jumping on my shoulders from high places when I'm not expecting it. And they have snobby taste in books. We were meant for each other.

Decorating is a work in progress, but I’m shooting for a kind of colorful sub-Saharan whimsy, like if Karen Blixen’s house was furnished from an Anthropologie catalog. Stay tuned for bookshelves, chairs, chickens, and a PUPPY.