Pa Msika

When I meet new Malawians, they always ask what the differences are between America and Malawi. Obviously there are a ton, but one of the biggest is the market, or msika in Chichewa. I know I'm lucky, I live close to a pretty big one, Ntaja, only about a half hour walk from my house.

I can actually get quite a lot there - the market is sort of like the town center, with a couple schools, a department of agriculture office, post office, hardware stores, health center fertilizer distributors, a couple bars I avoid to keep up my reputation, tailors, carpenters, two bakeries, even a Chipiku (the Malawian version of Costco, which sadly does not give out samples or sell hot dogs) and Carlsberg distributor. All of this, of course, in addition to the amayis selling basic produce (tomatoes, onions, greens, beans, rice, any seasonal fruit) laid out on mats on the ground, men selling dried fish that I buy for my cat, the guys in stalls selling blankets and chitenjes, the people hawking heaps of clothes in what's known as the "bend-over boutique". There are even a couple butchers who'll hack of a brick of goat meat for you. And since last year, I've found a few trusty vendors to frequent and rely on for certain things (always know who can get you carrots and green peppers).

Anyhow, the point is I can get pretty much everything I need at the market, and I'm grateful for that. There are plenty of volunteers who can only find onions and tomatoes in their area, whereas I can find okra lretfy regularly, even sometimes green beans and eggplant on "market day" - for us, Saturdays. On Saturday vendors come from all over, increasing the produce of course, but also throwing up racks of chitenjes for sale, displaying mattresses and cookware, offering reed mats. It's awesome.

Yet the market is not always a great place, especially on Saturdays. The market, as the hub pf the community, is where men come to hang out and get drunk, and harass any ladies passing by. Many villages have a crazy person; this is where he hangs out. As an azungu, I often get shouted at, and this often happens on market days, since so many people are around, and many of them don't know me. Most of the people who live close to me don't ask me for money anymore; walking to Ntaja on market day, requests from all age groups toddler through senior are much more likely. Yesterday a teenage girl grabbed my haor as she walked past me with her friends and laughed at me when I tried to ask her why.

It's not particularly terrible, but it can be a frustrating experience to have. It's a little like going to a crowded mall or theme park, with lots of sassy teenagers running around trying to look cool in front of their friends. For some reason to Malawians, when azungus talk they sound like their talking out of their nose, so when I greet children, they often respond by speaking nasally in return. It's befuddling and annoying.

It's silly to complain, because honestly I'm really fortunate that I can get so much so easily. And most people are so kind to me and willing to help me find whatever I need. It's just one of those weird universal truths of Peace Corps that no matter what you do, it will be a roller coaster and you will be a spectacle for everyone to watch.