Life on Kabula Hill

I had a seamless introduction to the airport and received my one month visa without complications (to be renewed at a latter date).  It was the easiest customs/landing ever so I was happy.  We landed early so I was surprised that I only had to wait 10 min before my ride faithfully arrived.  Indi, a pediatrician and ID doc that oversees the children's malnutrition study, picked me up and oriented me to Blantyre while manically driving us home.  That was my first insight into the madness that is driving in Africa.  Those of you who have been to Africa/lived here (you know who you are) already know what I am talking about.  For those of you who don't I will paint a picture in an upcoming post--don't you worry.

St Louis Research Project in partnership with the NGO Project Peanut Butter leases land in the Kabula Hill neighborhood in Blantyre.  Blantyre is the commercial capital of Malawi and has 1.9 million inhabitants.  I had signed up to be a clinic volunteer for two months but luckily I receive a weekly stipend plus room & board so my main expense was my flight out to Malawi.  Kabula Hill (a.k.a. The Compound) is a gated area that has multiple houses on the compound (I know what you are thinking...this sounds like a cult!).  My family will be happy to know there is 24 hour security and two adorable guard dogs Maximus and Cesar that become ferocious when encountering newbies (a.k.a. me day one in Africa).  I didn't know what to expect with housing but for Africa we have a pretty sweet deal.  The landlord lives on the property in the main house and the three other houses belong to the project.  I live in middle house which incidentally is the house with the patio. The patio converts into happy hour central when everyone descends after a long day of clinic to drink Carlsberg beers and enter data, talk smack and eat chips and chocolate.  Prime location for sure but mostly for me because of the view. (Don't worry I have my boxed South African wine).  Pics are of my room in middle house and views from the patio.

Up house (I know these names are so inventive) houses most of the dry ingredients for our nightly dinners and where we all meet to cook meals or see what the housekeeper has cooked for the night.  Down house is sadly the only place where internet lives on the compound and thus prime real estate when of course the internet isn't on the fritz.  When I came onto the scene two boys had vacated my room so I had no roomie for two weeks but she has since arrived and she's lovely.  Heather is attending Tufts University for her Doctorate in Food Policy and Applied Nutrition so we geek out a bit.  At any given time there are 5-8 people working/living on the compound so nightly dinners are a great chance to have lively conversations with health and science minded individuals.  I seem to learn something new every dinner, and as we get to know one another more and more laughs ensue.  We are all here to work on one of two malnutrition studies (pregnant women and children) so we talk clinic shop more often than not, but it makes sense because that is the common denominator that brought us all here.  So I casually mentioned having a housekeeper-- which is no minor detail.  We, in fact, have a housekeeper Ruth who comes M-F to do laundry and clean the three houses.  She cooks some staple grains and/or veggies as well to add to our nightly dinners.  She's a godsend and a good person to practice my Chichewa with (the language in Malawi in addition to English).

The sitch on mosquito nets

I have a confession. I like my mosquito net. No--like really like my mosquito net.  Which could seem strange if you understand I have a touch of claustrophobia.  How does a person who gets slightly anxious with confined spaces relish the thought of trapping herself into netting for the night? My theory is two fold--safety for one. Remember when you were swaddled as a child? No? Me either. But chances are your mother swaddled you and your newborn brain thought....ahhhh yes. Safety. Comfort.  That is kind of what mosquito netting feels like to a 31 one year old cocooned in a blue net hanging from the ceiling. A safety that nothing bad can make it into the net--and by nothing I mean malaria carrying mosquitoes ;). The other reason I think I secretly love my mosquito net is because it reminds me of an age old pastime that should never get old--building forts. My mosquito net is an adult mini version of a fort. Every night I crawl into my bed and tuck in the net that creates a canopy not unlike any multitude of forts I made with sheets in my childhood.

A chameleon we found in the yard (down house in background)

Maximus-- guard dog extraordinaire

Until next time!