One day not too long ago I walked into my bathroom here in Malawi and saw a spider scurry along one of the white-tiled walls. I am by no means well-versed in arachnids and can’t tell an innocuous garden spider from a potentially deadly black widow. This one’s body was fat, spotted, and tan and its legs were short and thick. From my vantage point (frozen by the door), I swear I could even make out a couple of sharp fangs glistening with venom. After this rudimentary initial assessment, my lizard brain computed “Danger!” triggering my flight response. I did a quick about-face and ran away.
That episode all but forgotten, I later went back in there to brush my teeth. Interrupting my idle daydreaming, the spider scuttled from behind the mirror and peeked out. Both of us immobile and me foamy-mouthed, the spider and I stared warily at each other for about a minute. Without taking my eyes off of the bugger, I slowly pulled off my right flip flop and went to strike it. Quick as a flash, it crept back whence it came. Fine spider, you win this round and I went back to brushing my teeth. Turns out, it would win many more rounds. And that is how a spider came to live in the small space between my bathroom mirror and the wall.
As unlikely as it sounds, learning to live with a spider turned out to be pretty emblematic of my experience moving and adjusting to my new life in Malawi as a Global Health Corps fellow. Unconvinced? Read on and I’ll tell you why.
1-When I first saw Spider, I instinctively froze, too overwhelmed and intimidated to move. Similarly, upon first moving to Blantyre, I experienced sensory overload whenever I went to the busy and bountiful town market. The place is a wondrous but daunting maze of stalls teeming with fresh produce, colorful legumes and grains, exotic spices, second-hand clothes, electronics, DVDs, wicker furniture, hair accessories – basically anything you could ever need and more. The rush of people, clouds of dust, and sheer number of THINGS can be really overwhelming, however, and initially I would kind of just stay glued in a daze and eventually come out of the whole excursion light-headed, empty-handed, and defeated.
2-Eventually, I got used to Spider having set up shop in the one room I am most vulnerable (i.e. pantsless) I learned to deftly avoid its usual haunts, – I didn’t look at myself in the mirror at all – I became hyper vigilant about scanning the bathroom when I entered it, and I even began to appreciate Spider’s pest-controlling capabilities. My new crawly companion was probably eating a bunch of pesky mosquitoes. Thanks buddy!
In the same way, I became used to and even reveled in all the novelty Blantyre had to offer. I learned how to enter and exit cramped minibuses without ripping any articles of clothing or bumping my head against the roof (I may or may not have done one or both of those things a few times during my first couple of months.) I discovered where I could find delicious and bountiful $1 plates of BBQ chicken and rice. In other words, I adapted and adjusted and Blantyre began to feel like home.
3-Despite these adaptive strategies and near constant vigilance, I sometimes inadvertently let my guard slip, falling into a false sense of security. It was always in those moments of smug confidence and inner peace that Spider chose to demonstrate its formidable leaping abilities. By jumping right at my face.
Likewise, one day I was sitting contentedly on a minibus on my way to work. Sure one of the other passengers’ elbows was digging into my ribcage and my knees awkwardly knocked against the row of seats in front of me every time the minibus suddenly lurched forward, but apart from that, the ride was relatively peaceful. About five minutes in, I looked down to my right and did a double-take –a large live chicken was sitting comfortably on my neighbor’s lap, clucking away. Oh hey chicken. That was not the first or last time I found myself unknowingly seated next to a large live animal while riding public transportation.
Lesson learned: let yourself settle into complacency, and you’ll be ill-equipped to deal with life’s unexpected hurdles and surprises.
4-Finally, cohabitation with Spider resulted in an increased ability to reframe adverse experiences positively and to keep things in perspective. For example, I was about to step into the shower early one morning when I groggily spotted a tiny spider on the outside of the tub. I smiled fondly at it. Dainty little spiders were no big thing now! Really, they’re harmless and even kind of cute. I have large scary Spider to thank for this newfound nonchalance in the face of Malawian wildlife.
Moving to a foreign country, and a resource poor one to boot, proved to be – to my surprise, as I’ve lived abroad before – challenging for me. Needless to say, my new life has been rife with hurdles big and small. Yet, I find as I near the end of my fellowship year, I am better able to cope with challenges than ever before. In fact, I can now find at least a silver spec (if not the entire lining) in most adverse experiences. Just as my tolerance for insects and bugs has increased, so too has my resilience and my optimism. Overall, no matter how challenging the year has been, I know wholeheartedly that it has also been life-changing and life-affirming. In this experience, I have found unexpected sources of support, kindred spirits, and lots of laughter and dancing. I have been fortunate to work with and for an amazingly resilient group of young girls and women and I believe, at least I hope, that I have affected some positive change in my limited time here. I am learning so much, not least of all that the road to living a meaningful life and doing fulfilling work is lined with all sorts of windows of opportunity disguised as obstacles – and spiders.