I like my blue eyes, but I might be better off here if they were brown...

We got to experience a third-world market this morning, complete with dried fish, people who stare and water running through the pathways. It was hard at first to look around and soak in everything that was going on because if you weren't careful, you might step into one of the drainage 'ditches' where water was running freely through the middle of market. They sell everything from cell phone accessories, mops, dried fish, beans, shoes and bed sheets.

There are different sections of market for things like clothes, food, housewares, etc. but all of it mainly consists of rows and rows of little wooden huts full of supplies and a person either inside or outside in the walkway screaming at you to come buy from them. Its all very confusing sometimes.

A small little girl, who couldn't have been older than 3 saw Danielle, Madam Darlene and I and promptly started crying for surprise and fear of three 'muzungus.' We gathered this fact from the adults around us who thought it was hilarious that she was so scared of us, enough to cover her face and hide. They, of course, were talking about us in Tumbuka, but hearing the word 'muzungu' several times clued us in.

One young lady, who appeared in her early or mid 20's spoke to me as I walked by her, but it took me a second to figure out whether she was speaking English or Tumbuka and to be sure that she was talking to me. I was able to respond to her greeting in Tumbuka and I think she like that, and was slightly amused. She threw her head back and smiled while sort of laughing, then stuck her hand out to shake mine. Danielle turned around when she heard all the laughing only to find that I was yards behind talking to this girl.

The young national men seem to get some entertainment out of making eyes at us and asking us how we are doing. They also seem to appreciate getting paid for every picture we take of Malawi; they usually don't end up with any change burning in their pockets. But, when we walk by and one of them says hello to us and starts talking about the 'muzungu' in Tumbuka, we usually get skittish and move on. I wouldn't know how to respond in America, let alone here!! They really want to con us into buying something from their spot in the market, but chances are, we don't need leather belts or socks. It also helps that we are never far behind a Rafiki staff person, all of which except one are easily old enough to be our parents, and in some cases, our grandparents. Danielle would easily remind my parents that she's on this trip with few purposes, the main one of which is to keep me out of trouble...

We went into a couple of grocery stores; you master the art of figuring out which store will have certain items on your list so as to get all the things you need before running out of stores to go to. Mzuzu is the largest town anywhere in the North of Malawi-the border is about 2o0 miles north and Lilongwe is 250 miles south of here; this is your best chance of being able to buy things like milk, eggs, Nutella, Kellog's cereal, soft serve ice cream, etc. The soft serve is actually pretty good, too. But, ice cream here is quite expensive, which should come at no surprise.

We also went to a dairy for fresh milk and yogurt, but didn't actually see a cow. The people who own this dairy helped Rafiki get started here in Malawi, so it is nice to support them whenever possible. Milk comes in sealed plastic bags that you cut across the corner to open; they spoil remarkably fast as they have absolutely no preservatives in them and are lucky to have been pasteurized.

The last exciting thing from our Saturday so far (besides packing lots of antibiotics into baggies) was that lunch was barbecue chicken sandwiches with chips (French fries). The barbecue here is sweet, so the children tend to like it a lot, and you cut your sandwich up into pieces and eat it with your fork; I got teased by Grace for picking it up with my hands. They enjoyed the fact that, "yes, we eat a meal like this where we live."