Jonathan - Smells of Malawi

First of all, kudos to my brother for so effortlessly seeing through my clever little game. We did indeed see Michigan-native Madonna Louise Ciccone at the hospital when she paid a visit to the hospital where we work. She even said hello to us! (It was before she was denied the adoption, so she probably wasn't grumpy, yet.)


So, one of the things that has struck me about Malawi is the smells. I have been surprised at just how many times the sensation that sticks out for me isn't what I see, but rather what I smell. The first day at the hospital was the first time I was blown away by a smell. You see, they have an entire room on the male surgical ward dedicated to wounds that won't heal. I can't think of adjectives to adequately describe the experience... pungent? Rancid? Thick? Repulsive? Necrotic? Nauseating? Each word seems to get close to the experience, but not quite describe it fully. Granted, I was taken aback by seeing holes straight through legs and seeing people with no skin on their testicles and other lovely visual images I could give, but the smell was much more powerful.

Another smell that I have yet to get used to is people in general. Like Europe (I'm told), deodorant isn't commonly used here. It's hot. People smell. Everyone smells. It's not something terrible, but it's definitely not something I'm used to. Last week was the first time I had the honor of smelling a rotten egg. The nine of us in the house have a communal food supply. What I usually have for breakfast is a couple of eggs and a couple of pieces of toast. I don't know where the eggs come from or how old they are, but before last week, I hadn't had any problems. One day, though, when I had my pan with oil on the stove, nicely preheated, I gently tapped the egg on the side of the pan and then when I separated the shell, I had a moment of confusion as the brown soupy contents fell into the pan, and then... WHAMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!! Wow! The odor was a strong slap in the face, making me back away from the stove. I gagged, but thankfully the smell diffused throughout the kitchen and became less powerful. I decided I had had eggs many days in a row without a problem, so it was probably a one-time occurrence. So, I through that egg away, got a new pan all ready to go, and cracked another egg. You know what? The second egg was perfect. I was so happy. The third egg, though, which I cracked into the pan with the second egg: rotten. Argh!

Another smell, which I did not experience personally, but Libby described in excruciating detail, was that of cervical cancer. Apparently there is a gynecology ward where the patients are perhaps the most neglected in the hospital, only getting seen once a week by a doctor. This ward also has an outpatient clinic associated with it. It was there that Libby (and another student, Erin) encountered another striking smell. As soon as the patient walked in the door, Libby and Erin knew something was awry. They tried holding their breath at first to avoid it, but it was inescapable. They couldn't communicate well with the woman, but she handed them her little booklet outlining her medical history (a booklet which all Malawians have for their doctors to fill out... in English). It described a doctor's visit one month prior where she was treated for a sexually transmitted infection - no other disease was mentioned. So, when Libby and Erin did the exam, they were not prepared for what they saw. It was cervical cancer. But it wasn't just some little bump on the cervix that might have grown over the past month. It was a massive white hard tumor that took over her entire pelvis. There was also dead, rotting tissue, producing the terrible smell that permeated the entire ward. Not something that developed over a month. Not something that could have been missed if someone had done an exam at her pervious visit.

To end this post a little more pleasantly, though, I have two more smells to tell about. First is rain. I really like the smell of rain... especially at the end of winter, heralding the onset of spring. Granted, in Malawi we are in the transition from wet season to dry season, so it's sort of the opposite (the end of rain, rather than the beginning of rain that is occurring now in Michigan). But, it's sort of like spring for us, since we were in the Michigan winter for the past month and then we came here. It's only rained two or three times since we've been here, but it's fun to know that the same crisp, fresh aroma accompanies rain all over the world.

The last smell is food. As I sit here on the porch, I can smell another wonderful dinner being prepared. Terrie (the doctor who hosts us) has hired a Malawian gentleman named Simoni to cook (and clean and do laundry and do other random stuff), and he is a GOOD cook. He makes amazing pizza and lasagna that are nothing like pizza and lasagna in the States. The sauce is sweeter... there is less cheese... it's runnier. It's hard to pinpoint any one thing that makes them strikingly different. But they are. And they're good. He also makes some traditional Malawian dishes. Tonight, for example, I think, we're having Sobo (orange) chicken. He also makes Moussaka (which we learned the hard way is about 95% beef, and 5% other stuff), and Malawian fish (which I've forgotten the name of). Mmmmm... The food smells so good right now. I'm really hungry.

That means it's time to be done with this entry. We have many more adventures to write about, but I wanted to give sort of little snapshots into life here. Hopefully this non-chronological format has been entertaining. Perhaps the next entry will be about fulfilling our other African requirement...