Hi, first post. I’ve been in Malawi for 10 days. Currently volunteering at the Maru Research Center in Kande Beach, Nkhata Bay district. My time here will mostly consist of doing fisheries monitoring at Masakahunju, a local fishing village, conducting underwater dive biodiversity surveys in the lake, and meeting local people in nearby villages and trading centers while I work on my writing.
Some initial notes: 1.) I live in a small thatch-roof cabin by the lakeshore in Kande Beach, 2.) I have running water and electricity and a couple bars of 3G most of the time 3.) A gecko fell on me today, it had the consistency of a fat leathery stress ball, 4.) I am now officially PADI open water SCUBA certified, 5.) I saw a submerged jeep on the lake floor (18 meters down) with colonies of cichlid fish living in it, 6.) I’ve written a grand total of one poem, 7.) it’s about the gecko that fell on me.
As of the last few days, I’m getting quite settled in with my living arrangements and my role at the center, and I’ve been taking my free time (of which I have quite a lot) to explore the lake, learn the language (Chitonga), do some diving with Justin (center director) and Douglas (Malawian staff member + great dive buddy), and do some writing. I don’t think the whole being-super-far-away-from-home thing as really hit yet, and I’m just taking my time getting comfy here. It’s weird because my Watson Project is at its core based on the relationships and conversations I have with people (specifically about their relation to fish), but I feel like even non-conversation interactions are bringing me a lot of joy and insight, and not specifically about fish. Of course, I’m sure it’ll all connect in the end.
With the project, I originally wanted to use fish and fish tanks as a loose metaphor to explore containment and artifice, what’s natural and what’s constructed, and patterns of community/migration—my 20 gallon fish tank at home, for example, has fish and plants from Australia, South America, Trinidad, Thailand, Malaysia, all thriving in unnatural harmony.
Here in Kande, there’s the local people, the Tonga, who live in Kande and Mbamba village (4-5 thousand ppl), and then the folks at the temporary fishing village (4-5 hundred), most of whom are transient migrants from Kalombe and other areas, and are just here to fish seasonally. Then there’s the Australian/British/American/European tourists (Mzungu=foreigner) who come here to swim and beach and vacay. And finally there’s me, technically a Mzungu, but also a special kind of foreigner—some kids I met on the beach called me “China,” which I responded to, to their delight, with a Bruce Lee karate chop combo, before explaining that I was American and my parents were from Vietnam. I don’t think they quite understood the specifics of my identity, but I’m still trying to figure things out too (lol) so I don’t blame them. There’s a whole lot going on here.
Interestingly enough, many of the species of fish in this lake, some of which are fished and some of which are ignored by the fishermen, are incredibly popular back home in the US in the aquarium trade. African cichlids are known for their territorial nature, intricate mating/brooding/childrearing behaviors, and bright colors. Look em up. The beautiful rockfishes are called mbuna. A majority of the aquarium cichlids back home aren’t wild-caught here in Lake Malawi, but bred in Thailand and Singapore and other Asian countries. There’s a strange web of movement here, something that crosses borders of nations and communities and species. A lot of stories that began in the lake have since migrated across the globe, translated and reinterpreted along the way. I’m doing my best to investigate and learn about each connection, each current, each path. Hopefully I’ll get to write the perfect crazy fish poem I’ve been trying to write for years, but for now, I’ll stick to getting to know the people and the lake and my gecko roommates.
If you wanna talk or read anything I been writing, hit me on WhatsApp. My Malawi # is +265 993 97 67 18. Or email me at duonste@grinnell.edu.