Dance Party

Both Nicolle and Camille have had their birthdays here in Malawi. They turned 21.

To celebrate, they wanted to have a little casual dance party here at SAFI. We invited some people and whatnot, and somehow it got turned into this huge affair. People were asking Nicolle if she was providing drinks and snacks (she wasn’t). And had we planned the decorations already (what decorations?)?

People told me they’d heard about the disco and were excited to attend. Disco? What?

All those expectations were kind of stressful, mostly because we weren’t planning on meeting any of them, I suppose.

Then the night actually arrived.

Chimongo, one of the Malawian interns here with us, wouldn’t let any of us leave to go to the party until we looked presentable (You can't go out looking like that! Fix yourself!). We eventually just snuck out, while she was getting herself ready.

Earnest, one of the Malawian interns here, got speakers and a tv and set up everything in one of the empty rooms at SAFI. He then turned himself into the self-proclaimed DJ.

Adam and Nicolle on the left. Earnest is on the right.

It would have been great had he not been quite so drunk.

There weren’t a ton of people, so I felt this pressure to dance 100% of the time to keep the party going. So I did, and it was actually pretty fun. I really love dancing, and so do the Malawians. But then I got tired, and the night just got stranger.

Earnest changed the song about every 10 seconds. He didn’t like most off the American music on our playlist, so he played Hey Ya about four times through completely, and about eight more times with only the first 20 seconds. He played Malawian/Zambian music the rest of the time, which would have been okay if he didn’t keep switching songs after the first 10 seconds. He was so upset about the music not being up to par that he almost cried at one point.

Eventually all of us Americans were exhausted and just wanted the party to end. But we weren’t sure how to go about doing that. I ended up leaving when the room filled up with drunk farmers who had heard the music and decided to join the party.

It was definitely one of the weirdest dance parties of my life.

The next day Earnest told Nicolle that we’d have to have a redo.

She politely disagreed.

Going from left to right.
Sarah, me, Chimango, Marta, Betha, Camille, Joyce, and the security guard.
Sarah, Marta, and Joyce help to cook our meals. Chimango is the college-educated Malawian intern who lives in our dorm. Beta is the nutritionist here and helps us quite a bit to get everything that we need for the research.  I don't know the security guard's name, but I tell him hello in Chichewa practically every day.

All of us girls (except for Renee).
Whitney, Camille, me, and Nicolle.

I never wear makeup here, but I put on some eyeliner and mascara for the party and wore jeans (which I also hardly ever do here). Chimango was very pleased with the transformation and said something to the effect of "Wow, you look so different! You look good!"

And I said, "Thank you," because I take what I can get here. 

She's a city girl, and we American girls are her projects. She always tells us to shower more (none of us care enough to take a sponge bath if the water's not working, so we just wait it out) and to do our hair (our ponytails just don't do it for her). She's also not too impressed by our usual long skirts/dresses or capris + plain tshirt outfits.

We've tried to convince her that we don't always look like this in America, but I don't think she believes us. 

She means well though, and we like her.