Teaching in Malawi
By the second year, I began offering weekly classes at my home to four individuals. Two of them, César and Julia, whom I mentioned earlier, continued until my departure and are still taking theoretical lessons via video conference. Through them, I was introduced to Brazilians working for an NGO developing Montessori schools. Their largest project was an hour’s drive from the capital in the Dzaleka refugee camp, managed by UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees). At that time, the camp housed nearly 50,000 people. Malawi, the fifth poorest country in the world, hosts refugees from regional war-torn countries. Most refugees globally are not in Europe or North America but in neighboring African, Asian, or South American nations.
UNHCR provides a monthly income of $5 per refugee to survive. It’s nothing when you think about it. So, my proposal was simple: learn Shiatsu for free and turn it into a livelihood. If they could provide one-hour treatments for $1—or even $0.50—it could double their monthly income, significantly improving their ability to afford food. Despite this, initial interest was low at the introductory evening. Most attendees didn’t grasp the concept of massage or meridians or healing hands. Assuming they were all Christians, I explained, “It’s a bit like Jesus laying hands to heal people. Except we’re not Jesus, but we do our best.” Instantly, 40 people rushed to sign up for a year of classes.
We held lessons in a hut that served as the infirmary, initially under the curious gaze of two enthusiastic nurses. The concrete floor was barely covered with a woven plastic mat. There were no cushions, futons, or blankets—just the bare minimum. Yet, the warmth, laughter, and incredible thirst for knowledge made that year unforgettable. Aware of the African adage, “You have watches; we have time,” I emphasized punctuality and attendance. Despite this, and attendance sheets, it was challenging to maintain consistency. New faces often appeared, claiming to have attended all prior sessions. Women often brought their infants, who slept on infirmary beds. Sometimes, goats tied outside bleated incessantly, or chickens squawked from shopping bags in the classroom. Adaptability was essential, as leaving animals unattended for three hours risked theft.
By the end of the first year, we had completed only half the first-year Shiatsu curriculum. After my departure, César and Julia continued teaching the basics, taking in total 2.5 years to complete the first level. They eventually had to stop, not for lack of money or motivation, but due to practical issues. The two-hour round trip to the camp became impossible with the increasing scarcity of fuel. Malawi faced widespread shortages, with empty gas stations becoming the norm. After months of effort, skyrocketing costs (a 50% rise in one year), and logistical hurdles, they were forced to close temporarily the program. From January 2026, they will resume classes in the form of occasional workshops at the constant request of students. I take this opportunity to thank César and Julia from the bottom of my heart for their dedication.
The School That Was Never Built
During my second year, I met a Tanzanian karate instructor, intelligent and friendly, with long dreadlocks. We became friends, and I proposed building a dojo on his land, 20 minutes from the capital, under the cool shade of large mango trees. Estimating costs at around €3,000, I launched a crowdfunding campaign, which quickly met its goal thanks to friends and Shiatsu practitioners. Materials were delivered to his land, but then…nothing. My friend disappeared. I visited the site for months; the bricks and sheets of metal remained untouched, and no one had seen him. A year later, I heard he had resurfaced briefly, though details were uncertain. The materials, however, were still there, unused.
My dream of establishing a proper school for Shiatsu and martial arts faded. Instead, I organized monthly weekend workshops in a restored gymnasium within a garden, which proved successful. Each weekend focused on a theme: back treatments, foot massages, neck therapies, and so on. A community of about 12 students began to form, but my time in Malawi came to an end. I should have started with this approach.
A Rich Experience Full of Lessons
I navigated without a clear plan, adapting as opportunities arose. This approach cost me more money than it earned, but I learned a great deal. The fruits of these three years allowed me to share numerous tips on the Shiatsu Mission Humanitaire website so that others could benefit from my experience.
The most evident lesson is that being physically present is crucial for things to move forward; otherwise, it’s exceedingly difficult. Imagine unknown places, unfamiliar languages and cultures, immense poverty that inherently alters social dynamics, widespread corruption in the police and administration—nothing is simple. Yet, with determination, projects can be brought to life. They must be carefully thought out in advance, with stable and reliable local contacts, backup plans B, C, and even D to adapt, and a commitment to years of regular presence before seeing the results of one’s efforts materialize. I think of my friend Jean Smith, who develops Shiatsu in Madagascar, and the people of the International Traditional Shiatsu Association (AIST), who bring Shiatsu to India, Benin, and other countries. To them, I say bravo!
On a human level, I also learned much about the wealth of the heart and the power of a smile, rather than material riches. I gained a deeper understanding of life’s purpose, the meaning of sharing, the rhythm of daily life, the harsh reality of true poverty, the prevalence of injustice, and, of course, Shiatsu itself. How to adapt techniques when dealing with only dry and wet seasons? What pathologies and physical ailments are most common? For instance, in Belgium, I often treated depression and burnout. In Malawi, I mostly encountered digestive issues, back pain, and, depending on the season, dry-heat or damp-heat conditions, along with the lingering effects of malaria and recurrent fever episodes.
I also learned about the preciousness of life. Barely a month or two would pass without news of the death of someone I knew directly or indirectly. Life expectancy in Malawi is, at most, 60–65 years, and even that is far from guaranteed for everyone. On my 50th birthday, my cook arrived in tears. Concerned, I asked her what was wrong. “It’s because I care about you, and you’re going to die soon—it’s so sad,” she replied. This daily contrast was part of my life and taught me many valuable lessons.
When it comes to Shiatsu, the greatest lesson was that this technique is universally well-received for its simplicity, its lack of tools, and its ability to touch both the body and the heart of people—wherever they live, whoever they are. Shiatsu always brings us back to the essence of who we are: white, black, brown, yellow, or red; living in cold climates or under the sun; young or old; wealthy or poor; men or women—human beings. Its benefits are universal, and it consistently brings smiles and gratitude. That, above all, is the principal lesson that motivates us, as Shiatsu practitioners, to spread, share, and teach this magnificent art wherever we may be.
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