Lessons Learned

Of the many things I’ve learned being in Peace Corps Malawi a new one added to the list is humility. I used to think this was a negative atribute, being that I saw it as a person not possessing a certan degree of confidence. Instead, I’ve now come to see it as an element of confidence in the sense of being able to admit you are wrong.

All of you know about my garden and how much pride and sweat I poured into double digging, shaping the beds, surrounding it with a fence, planting seeds, replanting (and, in some cases, replanting again…). I desired so strongly to have a bumper crop that I could be proud of and call my own (being that the likelyhood of doing such a thing back in the states would be slim to none). I say that, keeping in mind, how we as Americans generally prefer landscaping to large gardens but also the lack of time, in general, most of us have for such activities.

The rainy season was a weird one this year, having the first rains only to be followed up by a dry spell, then hit with rain again. I can’t figure out if it was the timing of my planting or the seeds that I planted, but things were not growing how other peopls crops were around my house. The book I’d followed as a guide for shaping planter beds left out an important step in how to prevent soil erosion - that, or else I was too quick to read it without considering what the water would do. I’ll let you take a guess ;)

As the rains came, the beds started washing away (as my counterpart predicted when he came to my house and said “You did it wrong.”) and with the water the seeds (I’m assuming) slid did as well. I nursed the heck out of the tomato plants, staking them up in hopes they would soon resemble bright Christmas trees, ornaments substituted for juicy tomatoes. I was so desperate for sweet corn, remembering fond memories of cool summer evenings with my family and how the sweet kernels tasted as they popped in my mouth while we enjoyed dinner on the patio. I adored my four rows of carrots, wanting my grandfather to be proud of me, and hoping they might taste like his. Pumpkin, the only veggie I was indiferent about, grew whether or not I wanted it to, taking over the garden and growing through the fence and up the kitchen roof.

Let’s just say there was no bumper crop. Maybe I was distracted and missed it. Maybe it never showed up at all. But, as with everything in life, we must assess and see where a lesson can be learned. I accepted that, indeed, Malawians know how best to do certain things. They may not be able to make the best village cake in the Bwanje Valley, but sure enough they know a thing or two about gardening and raising successful crops. I have proudly clapped my hands (a sign of respect) to Malawians while understanding that a book cannot teach you how it’s done - instead, you must live it to understand what works and what doesn’t.

Today, with some hired help, we tore down the fence, discarding of the dried skeletans of tomato plants and corn stalks. The first objective was to dospose of the snake houses that undoubtably are there. The second paving the way for a new planting season come this next year where I will hire a Malawian and utilize their skills in doing one of the many things they do best (next to cooking delicious nsima and eggs!)

Humility allows us to accept we are wrong. I feel this trait is as equally important as composure, sometimes more. How often have you learned more from doing something than being told how to do it? Sometimes I feel that is the best way. However, if someone tells you not to jump off a bridge just take their word for it...not all lessons need to be learned the hard way! This was my time to learn, my time to try out a new way of gardening. I truly had a wonderful experience, the good with the bad, but next season will let the professionals take over!