102 Signing church

Today I have had an extraordinary morning. I have known that one of my students, Memory, is a fluent signer for a long time, and I have recently appointed her as one of four special needs support workers for the children's centre, but I had never enquired where she learned her skills. It appears that she is a Jehovah's Witness and that she belongs to a signing church. This project has its origins in America. All the members of the congregation learn to sign and services are conducted in sign language. Apparently this attracts many members of the deaf community here in Blantyre. I suppose there must be such organizations across the world, but I have never been to any of them myself and I found the whole experience fascinating. We were a few minutes late and the service was already under way with about 20 people ' listening' attentively to the signing preacher. A video camera was fixed upon him and the image projected on the plain white wall at the front of the Kingdom Hall. There was some translation into Chichewa, but by no means was all of the signing translated. Memory's sister Elissa sat next to me and translated in a soft whisper a lot of what was happening. I was further helped to understand because the service, which was something between the sort of act of worship I am familiar with and a bible study, was based on an order of service in the local JW newsletter and contained references to the Bible and a number of JW publications which turned out to be all in English. Memory's large handbag seemed to be full of all these books and leaflets and the two of them kept me well supplied with literature that meant I was able to understand quite a bit of detail about what was going on. They both had extremely well-thumbed Bibles which they obviously knew very well as they found each reference very quickly and thrust it under my nose with a pointing finger showing exactly which verse I was supposed to take note of. More and more people trickled in as the service proceeded until there were about 50 altogether. We spent a lot of time considering relationships and marriage, things to consider when choosing a suitable spouse, and how to behave morally. Attention was given to the temptation to get so caught up in wedding arrangements that you give no attention to the marriage which will last for the rest of your life. Later the emphasis moved to the duty of children to honour their father and mother, including advice not to spare the rod for fear of spoiling the child which caused me some concern. The hymns were interesting. I am well used to signing along while singing songs with children, but this was signing without vocals or accompaniment. We were led by a video of enthusiastic and spirited white men signing expressively, and the congregation joined in with obvious enjoyment and great gusto. There was rustling of clothing, but otherwise the hall was quiet. Next came the 'study' part of the service. The newsletter had questions about the history of the JWs and there was a video with photos and dramatizations about various historical characters important to their development. All members of the congregation seemed very ready to participate and contribute from children of ten or eleven up to grandfathers. Both men and women 'spoke' from the floor, not only in the study time but also during the service part of the proceedings including Memory and her sister. However all those who actually got up and led from the front were men in smart suits. We finished with another 'song' and a prayer. The girls had taught me the sign for 'Amen' in the Land Rover on the way so I knew when we had reached the end! Everyone was friendly and welcoming. I think Memory got a fair amount of kudos for having brought an azungu to the congregation. I was introduced to Brother Ken who seemed to be the leader of the congregation and whose wife was wearing the same earrings that I bought for myself when I took Joan to the airport last week. It's shallow I know, but I notice things like that! Brother Ken was interested in the work of the CC and I asked him about the work the congregation is involved with for deaf children. It appears that the emphasis of this is to go into the homes of deaf children and tell them about the Bible. Brother Ken said he feels guilty about this as parents ask them for help with education as it is only the relatively wealthy parents of deaf children who are able to afford specialist education. I offered possible help for a few deaf children who live in Chilomoni through the CC and he is coming to have a look at the place next week. I asked him to request any business contacts he may have to consider sponsoring places for pre-schoolers at the CC.

As I left the Kingdom hall I phoned Francoise and Kirren who were busy buying up the second hand market in the middle of Blantyre! Kirren emerged with a nice pair of shoes, some designer trousers and three tops for not much more than a fiver altogether. We met up in the Mount Soche hotel for coffee. I was there first as shopping appears to take longer than church (!) and I amused myself with a copy of The Watchtower, which does not seem to have changed much in content or appearance in the thirty years since I last read it. Back at Mitsidi I changed out of my respectable clothes into cut-off jeans and a t-shirt and spent an hour or so starting this blog. We finished setting up a room for Alison (Children's Centre manager – Hoorah!) and Jason (Builder) who arrived later this evening. Then we decided that since the President was lying in state only about a mile away in his official Blantyre residence at the top of Sanjika mountain we really should take advantage of the opportunity offered and go and view the body. I put a chitenje over my jeans as I thought it would be more respectful, and we set off. We left the Land Rover at the side of the dirt road and followed a long line of people walking more or less in single file and at a cracking pace for Malawians, who apparently according to some study or other are the slowest walkers in the world, along the tarmacked road and through the gate into the usually private grounds of the presidential palace. The grounds were beautifully landscaped and the lower slopes put me in mind of a well kept deer park at some British mansion with manicured lawns and spreading trees. Different species of trees of course…. but that kind of atmosphere. The pavements were concrete covered in what looked to my inexperienced eye rather like chips of white marble. We climbed steadily for maybe a kilometer and passed through three majestic gates before coming upon the palace; a collection of imposing concrete buildings which looked more like a military establishment than a palace to me. The views were magnificent. What a beautiful country Malawi is! Kirren tried to take a photo of the mountains but apparently photography is not allowed. We followed the single file of people around the back of the central building and then back through it past the open coffin. We were instructed not to stop but to keep walking slowly past the body. My memory of the room is very blurry. We were there for such a short time. There were at least two women's choirs singing as walked through. Guards with guns and policemen were in evidence. I think he must have been quite a big man. We passed straight through and down the front steps but were stopped and asked to return and write in the book of condolence. I had not expected this and did not know what to write, but as the last three people had just put R.I.P. I did the same. It's a wish I can genuinely make for anyone who has died. Francoise encouraged us to go back around the building and sit for a while to listen to the choirs. We had a chat with several women who were singing. We even had our photo taken with one choir by an obliging guard, so the rules must be different around the back. One women linked her arm in mine, saying 'I will be photographed with Marian!' I have no idea how she knew me. I didn't recognize anyone in the choir. The garden is high up and although surrounded by trees there are beautiful views over Blantyre and several surrounding townships. I could see bits of Chilobwe, where we went to record the choir, on the lower slopes of Mount Soche. We caught a glimpse of a decaying Chinese-style pavilion in the further reaches of the garden. The only way out was to file past the body again and we walked by a slightly different route back down the mountain to the Land Rover. I was slightly disconcerted to be told by a guard 'There is a man, just down there, looking for you'. I wondered for a moment whether I had inadvertently committed some kind of misdemeanor and an official was going to pop out from around a corner and tell me off, but it turned out that Alan had followed us up on his bike and was looking for us. But we didn't catch up with him until later as he went home after actually being told off by yet another guard for loitering at the bottom of the hill whilst waiting for us to emerge.

We arrived back at Mitsidi just in time to welcome Alison and Jason, which was just as well as I had their door key in my handbag! The eight of us now resident at Mitsidi spent the evening variously settling in, cooking and eating supper and getting to know the new volunteers just a little. Kirren made an excellent orange and banana cake and we sat for a while over cups of tea. The cake disappeared!

I feel I owe some of my regular readers an apology. I have received several messages and comments upon the fact that it is a month since I last posted. I have in fact started one or two entries and these may eventually be completed and posted, so watch this space! I have been working such long hours, and conversely I have also taken two weeks of very necessary holiday. I have had the pleasure of the company of John and Joe for ten days and helped Joe with his university dissertation about charcoal use and the law in Malawi, which was fascinating and worthy of a blog entry in its own right. I wonder if I can persuade him to write it! I also owe you an update on the changes at the Children's Centre. Sponsorships are gradually coming in and we now have 53 children, which is great. If anyone wants to sponsor a child, either as an individual, a church, or a group get in touch with George of Krizevac via george.furnival@krizevac.org I think it costs just over 750 pounds a year for the whole package including uniform and three meals a day. Anyway it's 10.18pm which is very late for Malawi and I will turn into a pumpkin if I don't get my beauty sleep, so that's it for now. Only six weeks from today 'til I come home!