“A once in a lifetime experience”—that’s what everyone was saying. This trip was to be a once in a lifetime experience. What the heck is that suppose to mean? Isn’t every moment we experience once in a lifetime? I really had no clue as to what to expect on this trip. We had been preparing for eight months, learning about the culture, the language, our project… but I still felt as though I knew nothing. There is only so much prepping you can do through a textbook. Living what you learn is completely different. For example, I knew we were going to take bucket showers and empty our bodily fluids in a hole in the ground. I knew we were to eat the same food twice a day for three weeks, and I especially knew how much attention we would receive from others. Yet, all that “knowing” was shot out the window when it came to actually “experiencing” it all.

I’ll admit, the first few days I was in complete shock. It might have been due to the  exhausting three days of travel it took us to arrive, but I really felt like I knew nothing. People were blatantly staring at us and talking in a language I could not understand and there was nothing I could do, nowhere to hide. Now that I think of it, I probably seemed like a deer caught in the headlights, but there was nothing to fear. Nothing to fear and a lot to learn… and little did I know that.

People seemed so happy—without a care in the world—and everything seemed to be going well for them. Even when I visited the Chilanga Primary School and sat in on my first English lesson, I found that everything was alright. Sure there were a few too many students crammed into the classroom with little lighting, but that was to be expected. Where was the desolation? Where were the poverty and disease stricken Africans? Oh, how little I knew. How superficial and one sided my impressions had been.

I soon came to know the true stories behind people’s smiling faces. I soon came to know their hardships and heart wrenching tales. Only then did I realize just how strong these people were. Despite having seen and lived what they have, a smiling face to warm your heart is what they have to offer.

My first meaningful encounter was with a young man, 18-year old Thomas Chaponda. I had seen Thomas several times in the village. He always wore a toque and a jacket, no matter how hot it got. I found him to be a strange fellow, who kept to himself and rarely made an appearance during the day; but that might be due to the fact that he was our night watchman. Every night, he sat in total darkness on our porch in the cool, brisk night air and kept guard- not that we really needed it.

I never thought much of Thomas until Doug, our trip leader, insisted I talk to him to hear his story. Doug told me he was an AIDS orphan who recently decided to become a teacher. I thought it would be interesting to find out more. I really didn’t know how to approach Thomas though. I never really spoke to him except once or twice, to apologize for our childish antics, that had the girls running back to the house from the bathroom in a frenzy, to escape the “werewolves” at night.

One night, I finally decided to go out and talk to him. He was just sitting there as usual, bundled up against the wall. It was quite hard getting him to talk about anything, let alone himself. He spoke in a low voice and seemed hesitant to talk to me. Eventually after a couple late night talks, he warmed up to me and wasn’t quite as shy. He taught me about Malawian culture and its beliefs. I soon came to see what a bright young man he was, who had his own views on the world.

In spite of our talks, Thomas never brought up his past. However, one night he came looking for me up at the house. He was oddly talkative and spoke with more ease. That was the night I heard Thomas’ story:

At the age of fourteen, Thomas’ father died of AIDS. His mother subsequently remarried and had two other sons. Two years after his father’s death, his mother also died of AIDS. Consequently, Thomas went to live with his uncle and continued his schooling until Form 2 (Secondary 4). Due to financial difficulties he and his uncle moved to Kasungu District to be closer to family, settling in Makupo Village. Thomas finished high school with the financial aid of his great uncle. Unfortunately, the uncle grew weary of paying and Thomas’ education ended there.

Thomas knew that his future seemed bleak. He lived with his two younger brothers and three uncles, one of which was younger than him, along with his grandmother in her house. Since the death of his mother, Thomas has had a very difficult time coping and seems to fall in and out of a depression. However, there is another burden weighing on this young man. He confided in me a dreadful secret. A reality that so many young Africans face: he was HIV positive.

While he recounted to me how he contracted the virus, I felt as though the ground below me was disappearing. He was too young. He didn’t know what he was doing. He wasn’t given a fair chance! These were the thoughts running through my mind. That’s when it hit me. Thomas is my age. I still believed in Santa and was learning to divide in Math, when this boy’s world began to tear at the seams. Who was I to be so lucky as to be born in a developed country? Who decided that? And why? Why was this young man not given the same chance? My questions overwhelmed me.

His innocence lost, fortune finally decided to throw Thomas a bone. A couple of weeks prior to our arrival, one of Doug’s friends, Professor Christopher Stonebanks, from Bishops University, came to visit Makupo Village. He was moved by Thomas’ story and took it upon himself to help. He decided to help Thomas achieve his goal of becoming a teacher. Thomas is now undergoing interviews and results assessment for Teacher’s College. However, it is still unsure whether Thomas will be accepted or not, but his future seems promising.

Regrettably, underlying Thomas’ story is another harsh truth. The only way Thomas was able to talk about his past and his hardships was through drinking. While in the village, I realized how prevalent alcoholism was. And as many of us know, in any part of the world substance abuse and depression tend to go hand-in-hand. Thomas and I discussed his drinking. Although Thomas is clearly not an alcoholic, he is not proud of his drinking habits. However he says it helps him to talk about his feelings and cope. Nevertheless, Thomas slowly became less shy and more assertive during my time at Makupo Village. He wants a better future for his siblings and wants to provide for them and support them. Despite all that he has been through, Thomas still stands strong and is ready for whatever lies ahead.

As for the query that tormented me, I have come to realize it is better not to question circumstance. On the trip, I felt much guilt and at times was ashamed of the privileges I have. Still, I exercise no control over where I was born and into what society. The fact of the matter is, I can use this fortunate opportunity as a platform to expand my outlook on inequalities in the world.

My experience in Malawi was indeed difficult but allowed me the chance to open my eyes to harsh facts. Instead of allowing a sense of helplessness to wash over me when faced with these realities, I chose to look beyond them. In our society, we tend to choose the path of least resistance. Create your own path–create change. We must aim for what we want to accomplish and never lower our standards; whether the goal is to see the world, or simply to become a teacher and better ones life and the life of one’s family.

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