Below is the follow up to the village drama of this week, since I'm sure you're all breathless in anticipation of how my escapades concluded.
Friday morning, I headed off to powwow with my head teacher and deputy head, who had both heard the news of the night before. They agreed that the theft was unacceptable, no matter how small, and that we needed to go at once to the catechist to determine how to best handle the situation. (Please note that these complete events occured during school hours, one of the myriacof reasons classes end up not being taught.)
Back at the pastoral center, the catechist and my had teacher engaged in a strange, calm disagreement about what to do. Both wanted the other to take the lead - the HT saying that the house where the theft occurred belongs to the church and the catechist is therefore the landlord, and the catechist saying thay the house was given free of charge to the school so he has no responsibility over it, and he only helped me the night before out of kindness. Additionally, the head teacher wanted to report the matter to the police, while the catechist wanted to speak to the boys and their families, admonishing them privately. Yet both wanted the other to take charge. Eventually, as my frustration ebbed closer to hysteria, I mentioned that I should call the PC and that they were very opinionated about what was being done to fix the security risk. Even though the theft was minor, if the PC was not convinced that the commubity would be able to prevent another, they would remove me and place me at another site. A bit melodramatic perhaps, but with a grain of truth: security issues are one of the few acceptable reasobs for site changes.
Perhaps due to the threat of PC Lilongwe and our very own Mad-Eye Moody (here in the Muggle world he goes by Hector), the arguments subsided and we agreed to meet soon to go to the police and request that the boys be disciplined, not arrested or prosecuted (also the Hector-approved plan). Back at school to retrieve my things, my HT confided that the catechist didn't want to go to the police because he would be seen as a snitch, and his daughter's husband is somehow related to those people. Or he is from that village. Or something. And then my HT, true to form, excused hinself to teach, and sent the deputy with me in his place.
I have to say, talking to the police was much more comforting than the conversation I'd just had. The police chief saw us at once, and went on about how I am a foreigner and a visitor, but they know me, I speak in Chichewa to people, and I should be free to move around unafraid for my possesions. We met back up a few hours later with the addition of the boys, their mothers, and the village headman (local chief). The boys were sternly admonished (in Chichewa), and it came out that they wanted empty bottles and didn't want to get their parents in trouble, so they hid them in the bush. However upon realizing the bottles had stuff in them they were deemed useless. I'm not totally sure what they wanted the bottles for besides to play with, but there you go. The village headman was asked to sensitize the community and urge parents not to let their children climb over my wall into my backyard.
Since Hector wanted to know details on the suspects, I can tell you all now to avoid if at all possible: Charles Gwedeza, age 11, of the Yao tribe, Kapita Village, traditional authority Liwonde, standard 4 student at Kaombe Primary School; and Macdonald Msisya, age 12, Lomwe tribe, Kapita Village, TA Liwonde, standard 3 student at Kaombe Primary. I was also asked for my information but unfortunately didn't know my tribe when asked, so had to substitute my nationality.
And that, as they say, was that. Funny aside: one of the police officers present for the scolding of the boys was a woman, not in uniform, who came up to chat with me before our meeting. I'd never met her before, and didn't realize she was an officer. She asked me, in utter seriousness, the following questions, in order:
Who are you?
Why are you here?
Why are you not having the boys arrested? What if they were older, or broke into your house?
Are you married?
Why not?
Would you marry a Malawian?
You don't like the drunk people who propose to you?
Why don't you marry my brother? He's not a drunkard.
Well, are you a Christian?
What's a Jew?
And then it was time to go inside, and when the officer in charge asked why she hadn't introduced herself to me yet, I explained that we'd been too busy talking about why I wasn't married to her brother yet.
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