My Education in Malawi by Audrey Vanasse

“Be objective, whatever you see, whatever you experience, just remember to remain objective,” was one of the last things my father told me before I boarded the plane heading towards Malawi on June 17^th 2009.  I rolled my eyes, as I so often do, and figured his instructions would be as effortless as breathing for me. 

Prior to this journey, I prized myself for being able to remain emotionally detached from people or situations, and I considered it to be a quality of mine to always be able to understand both sides of a story based on history and other underlying factors. I remember my friends and family warning me I would come back a changed person, and to be fully honest I didn’t believe them.  I felt so completely positive that I was as emotionally strong and sturdy as a brick wall that I could go through this learning experience and come out unscathed and unchanged.  But, I was wrong.  The people and students I met, my fellow group members, and the village I came to love so much revolutionized me and rearranged my priorities and values in a way I never thought possible. I learned, through these remarkable individuals, that I have absolutely no excuse for not succeeding and thriving as a person or as a woman.  I realized my duty to cherish the importance of my education, because with this education I can now change the world.

By now we had become accustomed to the children in our village running up to us barefoot in their oversized jackets or ripped pants and urging us to pick them up in our arms. Even the kids from neighbouring villages would come and sit on our laps and wheeze or cough on us like it was totally normal.  However, the event that made my heart pump a stream of mixed emotions, that I didn’t quite understand at first occurred on Sunday June 21^st 2009.  We had been invited to attend a celebration in the honour of Child Africa Day.  This day encouraged children’s rights, and advocated against child abuse. Children from all over came to this merriment, sporting proudly their school uniform. Each school had their turn to perform a little something such as a song or skit concerning children’s rights.  The rest of the kids sat quietly in the scorching hot sun, forming a semi-circle around the performers. Some kids wore shoes and others didn’t and some little girls half my age even carried babies wrapped up around them. I felt like I was sitting next to mini mothers in children’s bodies, and I remember thinking how much more grown up they were than me. A famous band had come to perform, and all the kids flocked around the stage and they were dancing and singing and eating sugar cane.  And I realized that they had probably never seen a live band perform and most of them don’t get the luxury of being able to listen to music often. On that day they got the chance to actually be a child, forget helping around the house and doing chores and forget the struggles of school, today was their day.  A strange sensation passed through my body and at first I thought it was because of the nauseating heat but then unexpectedly, tears formed in my eyes and poured down my cheek. I was ashamed. I was ashamed that I had allowed myself to leave my heart in a box and look at this experience with pure logic and rationality.  I realized that by allowing myself to feel, it would bring me closer to this project in a way that could allow me to learn more because I now felt like it affected me personally. I had become a Malawian.

The following day, our group went on to visit and later help out at the Chilanga primary and secondary school as well as the school for the blind.  Having been already emotionally deflowered by the Day of the African child event, everywhere I went and every place I visited I felt something. Anger is what I felt after visiting the schools. The ceilings were rotting and falling apart, the walls were dirty and gloomy, and there were no desks, no chairs, no black boards and only a few books to share among 60 or more students.  Nonetheless, the students showed up every day for school hungry to learn even if it took place in this barren room.