Sunday after7:00 am English Mass, we met with a Malawian woman we have known from our previous stay, you might say she has been a cultural guide for us. In her early years she received post graduate degrees from, Boston University, in areas of health and education. She returned to Malawi, worked in a variety of government offices, coordinated activities with the Peace Corps in Malawi for a number of years and continues to work on women’s issues in the various Malawian cultures. With her niece, we drove to the lake exchanging life experiences, cultural awareness, challenges and needs. It was a full day, where we are brought to a fuller appreciation of the challenges ahead for the people of Malawi and of the many agencies working to bring about a sustainable growing Malawi.

As we return to the city, power is out, a fairly predictable event on Tuesday, Thursday and Sundays from sunset, say 6:00pm to roughly 8:00pm, so finding our way through unfamiliar streets to drop off our guide is possible only through her guidance. Finding our way out of her neighborhood is hoping we remember all her directions as we face the high beams of oncoming traffic and the uncertainty of street locations as red dust and smoke in the air hides the stars from any possible light coming through to aid us. It’s about 6:30 when we find our way into the compound where the Sisters of Mary Mediatrix have provided us with housing. We pull up next to our little house, collect our bags from the day’s activities, find our way in, light a few candles, find a snack to share and look to get a comfortable chair under us to relax for a few minutes. The heavy shadows from the few candles cast their own disappointing mood. We fumble to find the scripture reading for the day to reflect on in the dim light, and suddenly realize that we are hearing the voices of the sixty girls that are staying with the sisters, their voices moving in a variety of harmonies from one praise song to another without skipping a beat.  With their very strong Chichewa accent on the English language it’s hard to know when they are singing in Chichewa or English. The harmony and joy in the voices is enough to calm any moment, so we simply sit quietly and listen, rather in awe at their variety and smoothness as one song ends and a voice starts another, and within a word or two the harmony with all the variations are in place. “How Precious Is Your Name”, “Oh Lord”, Repeated with many variations in music and harmony caught us relaxing away any tension and singing in our hearts. Just as suddenly as the power came back at 7:48pm the scramble of those sixty girls voices all speaking at the same time, each, it seemed, having something very important to say, filled the air at a continuous volume and urgency for ten solid minutes before dissolving into complete silence.

How fortunate we are to be able to hear such sounds.