Friends

When I first told my mum about my 'rent a friend' she said that she would be praying that this woman would become much more than that- a true friend. After the firewood chopping fun on Thursday and yesterdays visit to Saw-'s village I came home feeling invigorated- not exhausted and I thought 'wow- even though I can barely put a sentence together in their language- those ladies really are my friends'. There is something about a sense of belonging/being 'ok' with a group of people that just makes ya feel good :)

Friday night one of the ladies had a baby, so we spent the whole time visiting her and eating ugali and beans together and they gossiped and tried to teach me a song. Little baby 'Hawa' is SO tiny and almost as white as me! I pray she survives.

Collecting Firewood

writing twice in one day? thats gotta be a record :)
I had an amazing afternoon. the background: I dropped in at the village of my 'rent a friend' late in the avo cos i missed last week due to lack of voice and the recent struggle of fitting everything in with work orientation and nasty cold etc. ANYWAYS... I wanted to give her some photos I took a few weeks ago and find a mutually convenient time for a proper visit- but when I got there the village was deserted. Eventually a lady came out and explained that they were gathering firewood and headed off to show me where. I hadn't really planned a firewood gathering excursion at 4.30pm after a particularly long day, but I thought 'why not?' and followed.

The story: The young women were in a nearby woodlot, felling a tree. They all stopped to admire the photos, then went back to chopping, then decided that I should have a go. I quickly proved to be quite useless, so we stood around watching while one of the young girls finished the job. Timber! then we set to, breaking off all the branches and stripping the twigs off the smaller branches and putting them into piles- well, that was my job because I quickly proved as useless wielding a machette as I was with the axe :) Next thing I knew I was deemed the babysitter, had a 1yr old strapped to my back and was busily de-twigging. I loved the atmosphere of working as a group, the banter, the babies, the giant knives... As it started to get dark they said it was time to go and I asked if I could help carry some of the wood back tot the village. They wrapped a tiny bundle in my chitenje which I carried as far as the next pile and added a few more substantial sized sticks so I wouldn't be completely useless. The chitenje acted as both a rope and padding for my head.

As I made way back along the path with 3 women in front piled up with wood (twice the size of my bundle and they weren't even trying!) babies tied to their backs, and several behind- i realised I knew every one of these women and was actually a part of this very familiar spectacle. Although my attempts were met with raucus laugther in the village- I couldn't help beaming.

Trouble in Paradise

Im sure you've all heard about the troubles and xenophobia in South Africa- but what you may not have heard about is the repercussion shock waves through the suppounding countries as those fleeing arrive home.

Apparently the Mangochi area in Malawi has the highest proportion of their population seeking their fortunes in South Africa. This isn't a new phenomenon- men (mostly) from this region have been migrating South to find work for decades. Some villages are mostly women as all their men 'wapite ku sout afika'-often promising to send back fortunes and rarely delivering.

Reports filtering back are horror story material- people being beaten, hacked with machettes- even accounts of houses being set on fire, then the inhabitants shot one by one firing squad style as they flee the flames. Many people are unwilling to leave as they have businesses and new families there- they never intended on going 'home' - but each new wave of violence is flushing out even the most determined. The Malawi Government has sent busses to bring the men from the refugee camps springing up around police stations. They've been dropped in Blantyre and are starting to arrive in the villages. Utes (new ones with nice paint jobs) loaded to the max with people and all the earthy possessions they could salvage- those universal blue, white and red striped bags, bicycles, cane arm chairs, the occasional sound system...however , most were lucky to escape with their lives and arrive with the blanket, plate and cup issued at the refugee camp. Some funerals have already been held- without the body.

I chatted to a policeman today (the police stopped me at a road block and asked if I could take him back to Mangochi) and asked how he felt about all the arrivals. He was worried. These men have come from the city, where jobs were available and where they had food and were able to make a life for themselves. They are returning to families that haven't counted on having an extra mouth to feed, children that don't know them, angry wives (perhaps cos they haven't sent money, or simply started a new family in South Africa), no jobs and very quiet village life. The police are expecting a much higher crime rate and general unrest. So-plenty of excitement in this neck of the woods.

Speaking of excitement- the former president who was planning on running again in the next election (our area are his die hard supporters) was arrested the minute he stepped off the plane (on his way back from the UK) and put under house arrest for treason. More episodes of this story to follow no doubt.

The Farm...

Sorry I havent had time to type the last week or so- busy, sick etc I hope these pics will suffice for now

The Farm

My Office

I start work for a Malawian NGO 8am tomorrow morning. Its hard to believe. Im nervous :) I realised this morning that I haven't started a new job for ... 4 years! and this is one Ive been working towards for almost 2 years and its in a different country with a different culture and a very loosley phrased job description. what do i wear?! hehe
I cleaned my desk this evening, and ironed my clothes and packed a shoulder bag- notebook, pen, wallet etc let the next phase begin!

So, what else is happening in my world? well, country wise- there was an assasination attempt on the President last week which is a bit of a worry.
Also at least 12 'foreign workers' (probably malawians and Zimbabwians) have been killed in anti-immigrant protests in South Africa. Apparently South Africans have to be members of unions to work, and foreigners don't- so foreigners are scooping the work which has lead to protests, bad sentiment and murder. not cool.

On the completely insignificant front- I had a lovely time gardening today. Spread lots of manure and mulch, started a compost heap and planted a heap of kidney beans as part of a long term 'fix nitrogen in the soil' plan. Weekends get pretty lonely when you don't have anywhere to go or anyone to visit. poor me :) nah- im thinking i really need to be more proactive about making some friends 'outside team/work' but 'in country'. Email is great to keep in contact re big stuff going on in Aus- but i am really missing sharing 'life' with physical people :) people my own age. Somehow compters and the wonderful technologies of blogs/facebook/skype just dont fill that longing to have a good goss curled up on the couch with a coffee and a pack of timtams...or a walk in the park with someone. hmm I either have to really improve my language -fast, and/or look further a field :) i think i'll go with the 'and' option.

g'nite

Update to 'Rambling'

the meeting happened!
the meeting went well :)
I start orientation Monday!
Woohoo!! (joy dance)

Rambling

Can you believe...("YES" I hear you say!) ...that my parents had all their luggage stolen on their bus trip from the mine to the airport?
They pretty much boarded the plane to Europe with the clothes on the back and their hand luggage- which thankfully contained passposrts, wallets and cameras.
What a way to start the holiday! Well, they did some major clothes shopping once they got to London, and today...they'd be having lunch in Italy I think? hopefully having an absolute blast :)

Today I had a language lesson this morning and am hanging out with my colleagues kids this avo and watchin 'spongebob squarepants' - I can't wait! seriously. I love spongebob.

The meeting Ive been waiting months for is happening tomorrow afternoon. Too good to be true? I hope not. The plan starting next week is that once Ive done a few days orientation in the TLC office and spent a few weeks heading out on the back of motorbikes with some of the guys, I will be facilitating the development of a TLC farm property as a demo farm and training centre. Some of the existing ideas for the site are constructing a training area and accommodation, demos for water management, crop diversification, agroforestry, house gardens, animal husbandry, low input maize growing methods, as well as seed trials and the tourism potential of setting up a ‘real’ village on the site- lived in by the workers but suitable for tourist groups... So heaps of potential!! I’m heading up there this Friday (its about an hours drive away) to have a look at the property and start feasibility planning and, at some stage soon I’ld like to go and have a look at other similar projects around the country to see what works...what doesn’t.

Im really struggling with the role of ‘westerners’ in an environment like this- our attempts to ‘help’ come complete with huge cultural packages- usually, it seems, for worse. I spent all Friday at ‘development training’ where a bunch of people- easily classified as amongst the worlds poorest spent time brainstorming ways they could reduce their poverty. They came up with a great list-
send your kids to school,
get an education yourself,
work hard, farm and plant extra to sell,
work together to solve one problem in the village at a time,
use initiative-don’t wait for handouts,
start a small business,
learn a trade...
They have great ideas of what they can do. Are they doing it and its not working? Or are they not doing it- and if not- why not?
I suspect our/my expectations and agendas are vastly different than theirs. We're aiming for ownership, self empowerment and sustainability - which Im fast realising doesnt gel with the bigger permeating culture here (of Africa?) - and its patron –client- culture. The wealthy are obliged to help the poor (whom they have relationship with) that is their duty. Im not convinced that ‘economic stability’ or standing independently on their own feet is the goal at a national level let alone a village level. The culture is very much about dependence and /or interdependence. Has it always been that way? Or is it a cultural coping mechanism in abject poverty? Someone asked me last week- can you improve the lot of one group of people in Africa in the setting of another group of people? I dunno. I almost feel guilty for being here- being arrogant enough to think that I have something to offer- and yet people here DO starve, are dying from preventable diseases... and the system isn’t working- so maybe there is a place for outsiders to ‘help’...I guess the question for me is –what should that help look like? Maybe Ive had too many months to think about all this :)

Happy Birthday sis!
I miss you so much
x

naughty...

I haven't posted in over a week amah!
Well, there has been lots of talk about my official 'role' soon to come to fruition, I celebrated 1000 ciYawo words in my word log/dictionary and on Friday I attended my first African funeral. An Aids toddler no less. Im not traumatised- but i am taking a while to process it all I think. its different than TV when you know the mother.
What else...my folks are off to Europe! for their holiday! today! how exciting. (It all got confirmed yesterday- thats how it works in out family!) yes, they invited me but I felt this year wasn't great timing. Ive only just started getting into the African headspace so popping over to Europe (where Ive never been before) would be a bit much spin.
Today we're off up the mountain to visit some training being held all week up there - basically an intro to all aspects of development. Swa- will be translating, I'll be observing and my house mate is presenting about health promotion. Then we're continuing on 2 hrs to Blantyre- me - so I can get a perscription for asthma preventative puffer cos the smokes getting worse and apparently won't clear now till the rains start ...October.
SO better shove some last minute stuff in my backpack and hit the road. I'll write properly soon- promise!

Village time

Another afternoon visit to the village. Another priviledge (sp?) to sit and soak up village life. Popping the kernals off the maize (my thumbs feel sandpapered now!) holding/passing the babies, listening to people talking about me- then trying to talk to me hehe Im doing a lot better than when I first started! They tried to teach me to 'kutwicila' today- the amazing african art of carrying stuff on your head. I had previously failed with a small container of water (it had a huge hole in the bottom!)- so they set me up to succeed with a small pot of maize kernals. I did it- but i still have to stabilize it with a hand ..or two :)


Anyways- today I pulled out my camera for the first time in this village, and after the kids had gone nuts and got bored and wandered off- I got some nice shots that Im looking forward to printing and taking back next week.

Poetry

Im in the mood for poetry so today, I have for you my favourite poem. yup. all of it.

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
By T. S. Eliot (1917)

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question …
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair—
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
. . . . .

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old …
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

'Be' ing

Some days my senses are so alive it almost hurts. I feel I’m floating, slow motion in a parallel universe-savouring every detail... the women gliding past elegantly balancing buckets on the heads, their babies peeping out from behind where they’ve been safely strapped with a colourful chitenje, wide smiles, the smell of burning plastic mingled with fried potatoes, a waft of cow manure, the distant sound of bicycle bells mingled with voices and children laughing, each grain of sand in my shoes, deeply inhaling the cool dusty air.
I feel invisible ...until a kid I know runs up to me with a raucous laugh for a ‘high five!’ and the next thing I know I’m ‘high fiving’ most of the 40 odd children on their way home from school. I smile at the familiarity of their faces- their exuberance as they run past single file – jumping to slap my outstretched hand.

I know...my blogs have slowed- probably as the culture shock wears off and I struggle to describe the nuances of day to day life. I struggle with the fact that I do not yet have a formal ‘job’ and yet in another sense Im relishing the opportunity—perhaps the first I have ever really taken to just ‘be’. Not ‘cope’, ‘perform’, ‘strive’ or ‘produce’ ...just be. Africa is teaching me lessons Ive never taken the time to learn before.

How’s language going? Well- Swa- said in Chiyawo this morning
‘right now, rina can speak Ciyawo very well’.
I took that as both a compliment and a gentle reminder that I really do have obviously ‘good’ and appallingly ‘bad’ days when it comes to ‘language performance ability’. But although it may be 2 steps back- its usually followed by 3 steps forward. Like realising, for example, that the words ‘this’ and ‘that’ are not only specific to the class of the noun it is describing – but there are also different variations of the word indicating the speakers distance from the noun in time in space. In short the English words ‘this’ and ‘that’ are probably represented in Ciyawo by about 50 similar sounding words. I dunno- i haven’t counted- but it was a huge break through for me.

It’s hard- but Im in awe of the language. Every sentence ‘matches’. Someone described it like music- if you play a note- there is a chord that goes with it for the particular key- so, in Ciyawo, the noun in the sentence determines the prefixes to many of the words for a particular tense. Write me a comment if you actually read this far. I have started (another) new language learning method where I get my helper to record a simple story about something in her life, or I try and tell her a story in Ciyawo (Lots of help) and she records what I should have said – then we listen to it lots together and write out all the new words and discuss why they suddenly disappeared into another word when the tense changed...and then I listen to it lots when she’s not around, and the next day we practise the new words from the story by taking turns making different sentences with them which helps me grasp the range of meaning. Its relaxed and we both get to be creative and Im learning lots about the Yawo culture through the stories!

Ok- ive written an essay, sorry. Making up for less posts recently.

So, comments- what is with all the advertising comments?! I’m not clicking ‘here’. No way. It could set off a bomb or something!
What is maize? Yeah- i wasn’t sure before I came here either- but its corn that isn’t sweet. Speaking of which- Im gonna plant some sweet corn on the weekend! Yay

Maize

Hey cuz- I swam in lake Malawi today. It was beautifully cool- but alot more turbid than i was comfortable with considering the chances of crocs lurking. I could barely see my feet in knee deep water. Did i mention how lovely and cool it was?! hehe With sunsets like this one you'd be forgiven for thinking its paradise.

It was great relaxing out at the lake after another week of visitors and language lessons and waiting. waiting can really take its toll can't it? But Im assured the meeting to discuss my formal job role will be held next week. here's hoping!

Well this week in Mangochi harvest is well and truly under way and the air is beginning to thicken with smoke as people burn off their maize fields after harvest. The women are busy drying the maize cobs, de-kernalling them, drying them some more and putting it all into grainaries as the families primary food source for the year. I visited the lady who we helped harvest last Saturday and was stoked to see how much maize she got! Then we sat talking for several hours preparing the maize and putting it out to dry (see pics below).

After the maize kernals are dried they get pounded in a giant mortar and pestle looking thing, then seived, pounded again, dried, and then stored or eaten. Elaborate process huh?! Puts our fast food world into perspective.

Thought for the Day

'What the heart has once owned and had, it shall never lose.'
Henry Ward Beecher

snake, cakes and birthday celebrations

Happy Birthday to me! 27- what a blah age- but it certainly wasn't a blah day of celebrations!


I was up at 6am awaiting a call to go harvesting maize. Harvesting seems to be very much a family affair- where the owner of the garden supplies lunch and the extended family joins in to help. A friend of mine picked me up, then we picked up Swa-, her children and 2 of her sisters and met the men out at the garden. The work itself doesnt require much muscle- but it requires tough hands and it gets pretty hot working in the sun all day. Us whities lasted from about 8am till 11am- at which point i wasn't convinced i had much more skin on my fingers to lose- and I had to get back to help prepare for my afternoon teaparty.
While we were harvesting I felt something sharp in my shoe ( I was wearing crocs) I kicked it off and as it didn't hurt wasn't worried 'til it got really itchy. i called my friend over to inspect my foot and said 'a snake bite would hurt would it?- What do you do for a snake bite?' she answered- 'pray!' so we did. There is still some speculation as to what bit me (take a look- what do you reacon? ok- the pic is a bit small but i can't be bothered waiting to upload a bigger one) - but im thinkin its a real-deal miracle that Im feeling fine- and Ive learnt a lesson- DONT WEAR CROCS IN A MAIZE FIELD.


Back home my lovely house mate had cooked up a storm- 3 cakes and 3 slices. About 11 adults and 15 kiddies came for afternoon tea and it was lovely - sitting in the shade on the back lawn enjoying each others company, sipping coffee and indulging in cake- they were all dairy free! yay.

Afterwards some people stayed for dinner. What I love about living in a small, isolated place is that it is unpretentious (sp?)- as in- often everyone will pitch in to prepare or clean up a communal meal- and its not a 'show', not 'entertaining guests', its more about spending time with people and community. We had sausages and steamed veggies. We all helped prepare it (even if it was moral support!), pitched in to clean up, and sat around chatting enjoying my second (third? or was it fifth?!) birthday cake for the day- a devine orange poppyseed cake. mmm.

Pretty cool day huh?

The only sad bit was missing my mates wedding in Australia today- and not being able to get a 'telegram-email' through in time cos the internet was down overnight. I guess part of the cost of choosing to live overseas is missing the major landmarks in your friends lives. I wish I coulda been there guys.

Well Im zonked. goodnight. goodbye 26.

photos

Im back- AND the internet is operational :) ...for now at least. The last week has been very eventful- most of it spent in Blantyre- or travelling the road in between- BUT my crook mate is better, my housemate is back (I met the on-time South African Airlines flight myself), and a group of aussies have come to visit (I met the 3hr late Air Malawi flight myself)...and Ive been chief tour guide for the last few days AND I didn't get lost! yay. I wont tell you about the vehicle I had to drive- i think I migth dedicate a whole blog to my hatred of the Dyna another day- suffice to say, driving it on corregated-pothole ridden roads resembled trying to control a bucking bronco- 'welcome to Malawi guys- hold on!'. So, below is a picture summary of the last few days.

The maize fields are ready for harvest

The original Malawian Presbyterian Church- a sobering death toll

View from Zomba Plateau

Driving and more driving...

Crazy Week

Its 9.15 on a Friday night, and Im so tired i reackon if I'ld fall over over if I tried to stand up. What a week- filled with highlights at both extremes; beautiful familiar western-ness and precious glimpses into the life of my host culture.



Some highlights from the village:

Dancing and singing with the women for over an hour at one of the village meetings- we were then treated to a meal of dried fish and ugali. I realised I don't feel self-conscious dancing with the women anymore. its the highlight of their week and mine.

My solo vist to the village of my 'rent a friend' was better than I could have hoped. She was a perfect host- made me feel comfortable, repeated herself exactly if I didn’t understand (instead of launching into a huge explanation resulting in more confusion) and took me around her daily afternoon chores: we pumped water and carried it back to the house. My attempt at balancing my teeny tiny bucket on my head was aborted when we realised the hole was bigger than anticipated, then we washed her clothes & laid them out to dry, sieved maize flour and lit a fire with the dry corn cobs to cook it, began pounding maize for the next day, finished making the ugali (my wrists weren’t strong enough to stir it in the end), fried some teeny tiny fish, ate, washed the dishes, held the babies, they tried to plait my hair, prepared the greens for the evening meal- all while chatting. I was amazed at the amount I understood and was generally able to make myself understood even if it wasnt grammatically correct.



Some highlights that reminded me of home:

you wont believe it, but the smell of anticeptic mopped hospital corridors put a huge smile on my face. I was in Blantyre dropping off a very sick colleague at one of the private hospitals for checks...and the smell reminded me of home. yay for western style hospitals when you're feeling super crook.

While he was getting checked out I went and sampled a nearby Italian resteraunt (?!! so exciting). I cannot rave enough about how perfect my cheesless pizza was. crispy edges, toppings still moist...the first salami Ive had in 6 months...heaven...

Although the hospital tests showed nothing, my mate was evidently very ill, so we stayed in Blantyre and headed back to the hospital that night when his symptoms were more prominent. He got a diagnosis! :) amoebic dysentry and malaria combo- so we decided to celebrate with a late night munchie run to the servo nearest the hospital. I actually did a dance when i stepped through the doors- it was a real BP servo!- with shelves crammed with lots of different kinds of goodies, a drinks fridge- operational and clean, an icecream freezer, the dodgy hot food corner and rows of choclates and chewing gum at the counter. It was such a special moment hehe I brought oreos and jellybabies and the patient got some jellybeans and a milobar. milo bars in malawi (wiping away a tear of joy).

ok im really tired and prolly over reacting- but it was cool.

But before I go to bed- i cannnot justify summarising the past week without at least one whinge about the traffic. I will leave you with one scene from today: in front of me, from left to right across the rough edged, narrow bitumen road- all going in the same direction were; a bicycle piled high with goods teetering on the outside edge of the bitumen- refusing to go into its rightful place on the gravel- the rider with no helmet, a truck dangerously overloaded travelling at about 110 km/hr, a minivan with about 12 on board passing at about 130km/hr who had pulled out from about 2 cars behind me to pass us all, a pedestrian- as per bicycle ...all approaching a corner with an oncoming vehicle iminent.

Im back to Blantyre tomorrow picking people up from the airport on Saturday and Sunday. please pray for my safety. missin you guys- drop me a line sometime.

Dictionary

I've had a rivetting Saturday. After a lovely sleep in I sat down to... update my dictionary. grrr for getting so behind, but I want my whole word list (english to ciyawo) entered before my solo visit to the village on Tuesday. its almost 4pm and Im up to 't' which would be great except that all my verbs have been entered in the spreadsheet as 'to ...' so Im really only half way. Oh well, I also made some biscotti with almonds I found in Blantyre last week, so at least I have something nice to snack on.

I need you help- Im starting to get total writers block on this blog. I guess nothing is new anymore and I assume you are bored with my language learning?! (i am) Is there anything in particular you want to know about? anything I can go photograph for you? hehe. what do you want to read about? Any suggestions would be helpful- otherwise you'll just get irregular updates on my language progress until I start 'work' ...then Im sure I'll have plenty to write about :)
So, in the spirit of sharing my joy with you, here is a teeny tiny portion of my word list thus far...

mosquito -ususu
mosquito net -masikito
mother -mama
mountain - litumbi (pl. matumbi)
mouse - likoswe
mouth -pakamwa
movie house- movidiyo
mucous -manila / mamina?
friend (my) -ajangu
friends (my) -acimjangu
husband (my) -walume wangu
wife (my) -wamkwangu
my/mine -wangu
nail (building) - msomali
near -kwakuwandika
neck -lukosi
necklace -nikilesi
need, want, like -kusaka

My Head Space

Hiya! sorry for not posting regularly these days...Ive been getting distracted by language study (woohoo! miracles do happen :)

As of this week I have upped the ante (sp?!) on my language 'regime' having realised I only have 1 month left to get to the stage of cummunicating by myself.

My repertoire now includes chatting to our night guards, daily lessons with 2 language teachers, one day a week driving/village visits - observing and listening AND as of Tuesday - a “rent a friend”. Saj- is a beautiful lady, early 20’s, 3 kids, doesn’t speak English, has spent her whole life in a little village about 20 min drive outta Mangochi. She seems really nice and the plan is for me to go there every Tuesday (just the avo's to start with) and just hang out and try and chat- doing whatever she and her sisters are doing- which on Tuesday was destringing pumpkin leaves and shelling beans for their dinner. 2 guys took me out to introduce me so it was all a bit- unnatural...but I hope as I head out there regularly by myself I’ll blend in as well as a white chick with a car in a small African village can...

So, whats on my mind this morning?
- Zimbabwe's elections are tomorrow and Im praying for a miracle. This link: http://www.sokwanele.com/map/all_breaches is really interesting- but abit depressing. A summary guide on how to rig an election...ya know- i always thought that dictators just didn't count the votes- or didn't allow the votes- but I was so naive!! there is a whole plethora of ingenious ways of swaying votes, deciding who does and doesn't vote, intimidation, payoffs etc that would result in a much more ego boosting positive indication in the dictators favour than just not counting the vote at all. Everybody likes to feel popular.

- Our own politics are abit interesting- apparently the current president created his own party AFTER he was elected (ignoring the constitution), hasn't allowed parliament to sit for at least 6 months now and gave away all the countries reserve maize to a relative (Mugabe is his father in law) - and I just read this morning that the previous president (currently facing serious corruption charges) has got the all clear to run for president again in the elections next year. yay.

- What else- can green curry paste be swapped in for red curry paste in a recipe? surely...

- I need to do some more languge prep. We are going through wordless kids books and, in 30 min blocks we are constrained to only using Ciyawo, and I have to describe everything I see on the page, with Swa- helping. Its great- I can say stuff! Im also getting her to record stories about her day/life and I tell her what I think its about-then we listen to it together and she fills in the gaps- then I can listen when she's not there and here a 'normal' monologue- already knowing what its about. very cool.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love Fridays? Im not sure if its Fridays themselves, or the anticipation of the weekend. no can't be the latter cos the weekends aren't that different out here- just time to catch up on everythig that didn't happen through the week :)
Its 8am. gotta run.
ps got a phone call from Oz yesterday- thankyou thankyou thankyou! floating on cloud 9.

Catch up

I hope you all had a lovely Easter break! I feel like I've been away for weeks. So rather than bore with lots of words about my parents visit, I thought I'd write a summary and post a few pics taken over the past week.

My folks arrived 9.15pm Tuesday night after a gruelling 13 hrs drive. We were up crack of dawn Wednesday for an overview tour of the work here and some of the projects I may be involved in ...soon. We had lunch at Neptunes (my fav restraunt) and met up with most of the TLC staff (future colleagues) which was awesome.

Crack of dawn Thurs we drove to Blantyre and shopped all day. We went to a Chinese resteraunt for dinner where Dad had his first sweet and sour dish for about a year. The resteraunt doesn't have much of a reputation but we hit a winner that night.

Friday we slept, and chatted and read books etc. I wanted to go to the Mohammeds Birthday parade but i had such bad hayfever/allergy that I wasn't really up to it. Apparently it was attended by tens of thousands of people and was pretty amazing to see.

Saturday the manic shopping continued as M&D are trying to purchase everything for their new house in Karonga cos the shopping is better in Blantyre than Lilongwe. Blantyre actually has a shopping centre!

Sunday I woke up to the sound of church bells ringing out over the valley. Beautiful. Christ is Risen! He is risen indeed. We were once again up too early to get to Liwonde National Park for a Birthday Safari for mum. An elephant showed up especially for the occasion :)

Monday we were back in Mangochi and lounged around for the day completing 'jobs' that revolved largely around cooking food and eating it. lovely.

today...M&D headed off with relatively little phaffing after brekky and meeting Swa-. Dad also helped me move my desk so I now have a view out the window rather than a beige wall. love it.

Happy Easter!

My folks are here and though its been flat out- its also been alot of fun showing them what I do now, where i'll be working in a month or so and today...up at crack of dawm (again) to head to Blantyre for shopping! Tomorrow is both Good Friday and Mohammeds Birthday so it will be interesting spending it in Muslim/Chrisitan city. I pray it will be peaceful.

Well, as I consider what Easter means to me I want to share with you quote form my favourite book- written thousands of years ago, but shedding so much light on the life of Jesus:

Phillipians 5-11 - 5 Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:
Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,
but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself and became obedient to death-- even death on a cross!
Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
May you have a blessed Easter.

Monday

Todays achievements include 7 sparkling clean ceiling fans and getting to 'C' in my 'words Ive learnt recorded english to Ciyawo' dictionary. What an exciting day. Village visits was cancelled, so i (with an amazingly willing Swa-!) took advantage of my lingering cleaning bug and had a spring clean marathon. windows, bathroom shower bays, curtains, walls, floors (with polish!)...you wouldn't know a humid, wet country could be so dusty. Unfortunately I forgot to get a photo of one of my super-clean white ceiling fans while I was up the ladder (boohoo), so a few pics taken at intervals thoughout the rest of the day will have to suffice.

A cameleon in the back yard

A quick trip to the markets for fresh food supplies- my folks are coming tomorrow for a week! Trying to find some exciting veggies to roast with the chicken Baba Lemon is going to bring 'prepared' for me tomorrow. Did I tell you that a few weeks ago they moved the market?! there one day, gone the next. the old market burnt down just before I arrived, so everyone had just 'squatted' and set up their stalls in the ashes. Then one day the local authority decided it was time to start rebuiling and moved everybody on...so the market is now around the corner in a narrow street with the fish section located right in the middle to ensure maximum exposure to the aroma on a hot, still afternoon.

Upholding a long standing tradition of HungryJacks for late lunch after a cleaning spree :)

Musings, golf and reality

Well, my taste of poverty ended on the 6th morning. Nothing major- i just woke up with an overwhelming desire to clean the house in preparation for my folks visiting next week...and there was no way I was going to lug in all that water to hand wash 6 sheets, 2 towels and mop etc so I ceremoniously made myself a piece of toast for brekky-spread with vegemite and hopped into the cleaning.

What did I learn? Malawian food is simply wonderful -and ugali is a great comfort food that is quick and easy to cook. I made it on MK1745- but only because I was feeding 1 person, had no relatives and no unbudgeted needs or emergencies. I really missed my fruit and I'd be struggling to buy clothes or medicine on that. It shocked me how labour intensive life was- not just carrying heavy buckets of water, but ladelling it out one cup at a time, hand washing clothes and wringing them out, making fresh relish and ugali for every meal- no refrigerator or microwave, making extra trips to carry things whilst carrying a candle...and at the end of it all, a cold splash and a hard bed. I didnt even have to pound my own maize or gather and carry firewood or squat over the fire to cook (all with a child strapped to my back!)- and my muscles were still sore! yup- they do it tough.

So what do you do after a week of hard work? Play golf. haha. yup, today we went for a game of golf at one of the lake resorts (I didnt even know there was a golf course there!). It was beautiful- green, shady course, boabab trees, lakes (a little croc arrived with the winter flooding!- one potential problem growing). We played 9 holes in 4 hours with much laughter and fun and Gilmore shots and victory dances...and it was good. Good to laugh, good to have fun, good to do something outside the house and Mangochi, good to forget the world and all its cares for a moment and try and find that little white ball and get it in the hole. It was a breath of fresh air. Many photos to follow Im sure :)

On the way home we passed a matola (minivan country bus/taxi service)by the side of the road and the driver and another man were beating the *#!* out of one of the pssengers dragged form the van while the rest of the passengers looked on. We prayed, slowed right down and discussed whether it would be wise to stop and intervene in such a volatile situation. As we passed they stopped kicking him and got back in the matola. He lay still for a moment then slowly got to his feet. I could see him gingerly limping away as we rounded the corner. We came back to earth with a thud- much like a golf ball landing on the green.

A must see Swiss movie- ' As it is in Heaven'

A Taste of Poverty III

Wednesday to Friday- variations on a theme.

I have discovered that hot restless sleep magnifies the sounds of the night...crickets, the breeze rustling the trees, over-ripe guavas thudding to the ground, the close footsteps and muted voices of the night watchmen- all punctuated by the neighbourhood dogs goading each other into a choir of howls.

I have enjoyed the simplicity of eating within my budget- rice with a little sugar for brekky (the cassava I bought were no good), ugali and greens for lunch and steamed pumpkin with kidney bean 'soup' for dinner. I look forward to ugali at lunch time- but don't seem to to be able to face twice a day :)

Kidney Bean Relish/Soup:

bring one cup of dried kidney beans to the boil with plenty of water in the morning. Take off the heat and cover. In the evening, simmer for an hour or so until soft (pre-boiling cuts 2 hrs of simmering time). In a separate pot heat 0.5- 1cm of oil, add a diced onion and a diced tomato or 2 and some salt to taste and allow to cook 'til tomatoes are breaking up. drain most of the bean liquid into a separate bowl and pour the oil mixture over the beans. leave on low heat for a little while to allow the oil/tomato/onion flavour to permeate the beans.

serve the bean relish with ugali or rice OR If you prefer the soup option, serve the relish into bowls and add the reserved bean liquid to taste. simple and delicious.

Wednesday both my language helpers arrived for the lesson having not eaten one or two of their previous meals. I guessed from their restless lack of concentration and served up anzacs and bananas with the usual glass of water. 'pangali' was said with a shrug or the 'malawian gesture' of clapping both hands together then holding them apart with a resigned shrug- 'there is nothing' AAAAAAAH!!!! How do I respond? they are both very well off by malawian standards- not only do they work for me, one is a teacher and the others husband has a well paid job. If they're running out of food on a regular basis- then what about the rest of the population?Budgeting doesn't work in this culture- the extended families needs come before the individuals - but at the same time- i know my generosity has been factored into the equation. take a deep breath and respond to one at a time....

the power has been on and off a lot this week which hasn't effected me much- except for internet access and the outside taps running out of water haha another bout of divine sense of humour :) I haven't been using my alotted 4 buckets of water a day- partly cos my wrists and lower back hurt from carrying it. By Thursday night everyone elses houses had no lights cos their transformer batteries had run out- but my place was a conspicuous glow of outdoor security lights :)

speaking of lights-I haven't minded spending each evening reading by candle light but I don't feel much like spending Friday night alone with no lights- so Im breaking that one from now on. thought I had better be honest :) well- have a good friday night- I would love to go out fo rdinner with friends and go see a band afterwards...oh the things we take for-granted

A Taste of Poverty III

Tuesday afternoon: Who'd have thought this would become a foodie blog?! well its not your average foodie blog and its definitely temporary. After a delicious lunch of ugali and greens (pictured), I sat down to do my budget...and im scarily close to having spent my (generous) $2/day already.

Rent (equivalent for a 2 roomed, tin roofed ‘apartment’ with shared ablutions), charcoal (fee for using gas stove), soap and candles come to 610MK. 4 Buckets of water a day and food items already purchased brings the grand total to 1515MK. My food supply so far consists of a weeks supply of maize flour, oil, salt, onions, beans and rice, and a few tomatoes, cassava, a pumpkin, a days supply of greens and some peanuts. Im really hoping there’ll be room in the budget for an egg with dinner tonight.

I’ve chosen a bad time to take on this challenge. With harvest still a few weeks away, maize flour is at an all time high price and tomatoes... I dunno why they are so expensive- but they are 20-25 MK each which means if you are working a manual labour job- your days wage could buy you...4 or 5 tomatoes! Go figure.

I also have a confession to make- this afternoon as I was starting my grammar lesson, my blood sugar levels dropped and I got the shakes and couldn't concentrate...so I ate an anzac bikky. I guess it shows that the ugali looks impressive in quantity but doesn't have substance. Esn- then informed me that i could buy a quarter kg of sugarfor 30MK, so, as soon as the lesson was over I stunned a shop keeper and she introduced me to the evening markets- amazing seeing the whole place bustling with people in the cool of the evening and lit with candles!

I ended up having my egg for dinner. yum!

If you like the look of the food - or you're curious to try it -the recipies are all in my blog archives somewhere tagged with 'cooking'. Im amazed at how tasty oil, onion and tomato can be- and how comforting a stomach full of ugali is- Im really enjoying this challenge.

A Taste of Poverty II

Your challenge should you chose to accept it is to taste poverty for 7 days.

yup, I say 'taste', cos as was pointed out- we cannot truly have any any idea what its like to have nothing- until we have lost everything...so until then, my goal for the week (starting Monday 10th March am) is to live as close to the standard of a middle class Malawian as possible.

Monday & Tuesday morning: So far, it has gone much as could be expected...
The bed wasn’t too bad- not too great either, but I slept ok. I decided to forgo the cold splash this morning- but after and hour of hauling water and scrubbing to get my clothes clean...Im dripping sweat at 7.30 am and a cold bathe is sounding pretty good...except that means carrying more water...

Breakfast yesterday was abysmal. I was assured that it was possible to make a nice rice porridge using just rice and water... but I ended up with plain rice for brekky that only marginally improved when I poured my black tea over it. This morning Im trying cassava which is a root vegetable that smells almost like bread...but tastes like a whole lotta starch- again, not too bad, but not great either!

After a day in the villages where 4 of the 7 meetings were cancelled due funerals or attendees busy in their gardens protecting them from elephants, and 2 villages inaccessible due to road conditions...we got back early and I decided to visit our neighbours over the road who were sitting out the front braiding hair. Communication was pretty limited as only one of them spoke Ciyawo and another a little English, but they were very friendly and shared their baobab fruit with me (ish!) and tried putting my hair into 3 braids which slipped out within minutes :-)

Dinner was a candle lit affair of steamed corn, pumpkin and left over rice (not a Malawian meal as such but I wasn’t hungry enough to eat ugali), whilst reading ‘Kidnapped’ by Robert Lewis Stevenson. Its all about atmosphere I say!

Well, I would post this now if I could but either our internet connection is stuffed or google/blogger is experiencing some problems... and just when I finally got a microphone that works for skyping too :-( ok..its now wednesday and we've finally got internet AND power back (not that Im using the lights- but its handy for powering computers... hehe).

Blantyre

we wandered up and down every aisle- soaking in the colours and variety of the ...supermarket shelves :) It's been about 2 months since I last made it to the 'big smoke' of Blantyre, so even grocery shopping was a real treat. We also indulged in 'Indian' for dinner and had iced tea and spice cake at a cafe in one of the old colonial buildings- what a lovely day! the next day I took my housemate to the airport for her holidays and proceeded to get lost trying to find the right road to Mangochi. no helpful road signs here - BUT I made it home with a greater appreciation of the size of Blantyre.
my first though this morning was 'oh no!' hehe my week of tasting poverty has begun. A cold dipper shower, proceeded by carrying more water in from outside and boiling up myself some plain rice and tea for brekky. yup its gonna be a long week!
Im off on a village visit this morning- then Ive got all my washing from the weekend waiting for me. God has such a a sense of humour- I had planned to use yesterday to catch up on all my washing to minimise the amount of water lugging etc this week...but the power was off all day wasn't it?! so I ended up handwashing all my sheets and towels anyways :) they who want to taste hardship cannot be choosers about when it suits them !!

A Taste of Poverty

Your challenge, should you chose to accept it is ...

Most of us have never experienced true poverty. We’ve never wondered where our next meal is coming from. We’ve never needed an ‘essential for life’ commodity (ie food, medicine, clean water etc) and not had the means to secure it.

The closest I have come to being in true need was backpacking (where banks were fewer and farther between than I had anticipated) and at uni. The first year at uni we lived day to day- and it was amazing how God provided- even if it was weeds from the backyard (nettles) and rice for dinner! Another year at uni I was working 3 jobs and living off $10 a week for food. But even in those ‘tough’ times- I was in such a position of wealth and power! Backpacking; the need was temporary- I am wealthy enough to travel!- that is not poverty. At uni; my money was being spent on rent and paying bills for a car and text books, and later- paying a mortgage!- that is certainly not poverty- especially when there is centrelink to fall back on.

In contrast, the poverty here is true poverty. Systemic through the whole community. No government welfare system to fall back on. Day by day, living on the edge.
Then I read the world stats:

Half the world — nearly three billion people — live on less than two dollars a day.

The poorest 40% of the world’s population accounts for 5% of global income. The richest 20% accounts for three-quarters of world income.

According to UNICEF, 26,500-30,000 children die each day due to poverty. And they “die quietly in some of the poorest villages on earth, far removed from the scrutiny and the conscience of the world. Being meek and weak in life makes these dying multitudes even more invisible in death.”

Its hard to believe isn't it? I thought living here would make it more real for me- but in many ways it hasn’t. We are great at blocking out that which we don’t understand- and even better at seeking out our personal comfort first.

I have felt challenged to use my resources more wisely (see 'Food glorious food'); I have been challenged by my own double standards of what is good enough for me vs what is good enough for others (see blog ‘money money money') and I have been challenged – as a global citizen to proactively identify at a deeper level with 3 billion of the people I share this planet with.

My response? At a life and heart level- is to leave the wealth and comfort of my home and see what can be done practically. But even in that I can cling to my comfort, my way. So, as an experiment, as a step towards identifying, Im going to cut my standard of living for a week- and i would like to invite you join me (pregnant and nursing mothers excluded).

Your challenge, should you chose to accept it is to taste poverty for 7 days.

I’m not going to prescribe how, or what that looks like for you- if you join me in this you need to own your commitment. But i recommend you set the bar out of your comfort zone. It may be forgoing your take-away latte for a week and giving the money saved to a charity. It may be halving your grocery shopping allowance or choosing to not use electricity in your house for the week. think about over the weekend. If it is something you would like to do with me -write me a comment/email to let me know you’re on board (accountability! :-) and savour the experience and the insight the week will bring.

My goal for the week (starting Monday 10th March am) is to live as close to the standard of a middle class Malawian as possible. That means:
-Money for the week: 1725Mk- approximately $14 (usually supporting a family of 6+ so Im being soft!)
- no electricity (except for my computer so I can tell you how its going!)
- no running water- and paying the local rate for every bucket carried in from the tap outside
- cardboard instead of a mattress (but Im keeping my pillow!)
- pay rent and pay the equivalent of a weeks supply of charcoal to use the gas stove
- pantry access denied :-)
To be honest- Im not sure how I’ll go- I may not be able to make it the whole week- or i may go hungry- but Im going to give it a good shot.

Im off to Blantyre tomorrow- so I'll 'see' you Monday!

Philosophising goals

Enough about driving and accidents- why do you do what you're doing?
what is your motivation?
what is your criteria for success- or failure?
I think we all have multiple motivations for the decisions we make- and rarely look at our criteria- until something happens that gives us the impression we've either really succeeded- or really stuffed something up...or in my case, have been sitting around thinking for too long :)

Why am I thinking about such things? because Im in Africa- ive taken all the steps to do and be what Ive always wanted to do and always wanted to be... Its not a dream anymore-its reality. Im doing the language learning, about to embark on figuring out where I fit within the evolving organism of aid work in malawi, and the particular approach of the organisation Ive aligned myself with and all the different expectations of the people involved and I find myself thinking- 'why am I here?'

In any life circumstance there are multiple 'things' that can be pursued or achieved- relationships, the 'job', self development, $, status etc
My answer to 'why am i here' will influence my experience. If I don't have a clear answer- then my experience will be shaped by other peoples answer to my question.

I want to build meaningful, mutually beneficial relationships with Yawo people. I would love to spend lots of time in a particular village and become part of their daily lives and understand their world view...but i wonder whether this would be an indulgence- given the time preiod Im here. 2 yrs is nothing in the life of the village. im a flash in the pan.
I would love to wrestle with the practice of wholistic development- taking people seriously. This involves alot more relationships- at a very superficial level- relying on the strength of the deeper ties of our malawian co-workers. Its a lot less relationally satisfying- but achieves a greater positive impact in the community here and personal training for the future.
Is it possible to balance the 2? Is it possible to achieve a degree of 'success' in either in the 2 years Im here? how do i define success?
well, on that note I have finished my brekky and 2 cuppas and desparately need to do some language prep in the next 30 min before my next lesson...
I'll keep thinking about it...

Ode to Malawian Drivers II

Every week we drive down this crazy hill with hairpin bends and long grass and bicycles. Right near the top though, the road goes sharp left- but there are skid marks and a mangled safety rail where somebody evidently didn't make the turn.

I asked a local Malawian about it. He said 2 trucks went over about a month ago- both loaded with gravel, the second truck without breaks. 4 people died. Why am I telling you this now? cos today I discovered that my colleague Ben had photos- and they are such a sobering reinforcement of everything Ive been whinging about... that they deserve to be posted as a sequel. I promised Ben I would reference him and share a cut of the royalties, so- thanks for the pics Ben- the cheque's in the mail.

these pictures may disturb some viewers.

Ode to Malawian Drivers

Another day in the village...another exhausted me. more driving. more intense listening. more understanding. more attempts to be understood in an obscure African language... followed by more grammar (woops- forgot to cancel my 4pm language lesson!).

Nothing new, just slow progress on the old. So, I thought I would dedicate this post to all the wonderful Malawian drivers out there who load their vehicles to capacity with maize, strap a bicycle or 2 on top with 5 to 65 people around the edges and then proceed to crawl along the road at 40 km/hr because:

a) the engine's not big enough to carry the load;

b) their suspension/dif/ axel are completely stuffed (see a);

c) they don't have any breaks and they know it;

d) their steering is stuffed and anything over 40km will send them careering out of control;

e) all of the above.

And who, in the mean time motion for you to pass on a blind corner, drive in the middle of the road- or stop (in the middle of the road) to kindly pick up more passengers who stand scattered across the road while their produce is loaded on top. these guys are awesome- they are the lifeblood of this country- ok thats a bit excessive- but think of how many bicycle trips they are saving- and how many car trips- greenhouse gas emission?! they are saving by cramming 6 loads onto 1?!

unfortunately the best ones don't get photographed cos Im gripping the wheel trying to keep everyone alive- but here is a taste of what I came across today. I hope you enjoy the scenery too!

And of course my favourite...

And the winner is...

Green.
All I can deduce from that is that all my readers are conservatives. Happy Green won with 75% of the votes, with Stereotypical African getting 25% and 1 person-really didn't care. Whats wrong with candy pink? its nauseating thats what.

Why have I suddenly felt the need to re-decorate my blog? hmm- be glad I wasn't in a house with a can of paint handy- in fact, if i remember correctly a certain apartment is still painted 2 shades of jungle green with a sky blue fridge and eggplant purple ' feature wall'... my interio decorating has never been subtle.

The header? Dr Seuss- a painting called 'Free Bird'. Google it to see the whole pic and tell me what you think. how does it make you feel? hehe I was it in a Dr Theodore Seuss exhebition and absolutely loved it- what a metaphore! Feel free to buy me the original any time :)

Doing life

I visited Swa-'s family village yesterday- and decided to photograph for you a fairly typical scene on the major highway (it has 2 lanes of bitumen- its a highway :) between Mangochi and the Mozambique border. I hope this gives more perspective to my previous post :-z

When we got to the village we heard that her cousin was sick, so we walked through the village to where the patient was being cared for at her fathers house. We paused to greet every person we passed, and for each an explanation of relation was given; 'this is my sisters daughters husband', 'this is my fathers brothers wife', 'this my fathers other wife's sister', 'this is my other sisters daughter', 'this is my husbands relative' (too hard basket :).

We entered the large, half built brick house, greeted everyone in the dark corridor and were seated at the door of the patients room. He was probably early 30's, stretched out on his back, skin and bone, every breath an effort. 'He has sores on his legs' Swa- explained helpfully. We sat in the dim, resigned silence of the house. This man was going to die.

After afew minutes my 'western analytical' brain kicked in. 'Have they taken him to hospital- why isn't this man in hospital?' I asked. I knew he wouldn't have a bed there, but there might be something they could do- something they could give him more than orange cordial... Swa- spoke with her parents in hushed voices and finally answered 'they say they do not want the doctor to yell at them for bringing him now, and if he dies there it will be too difficult to bring his body back'. We took our leave and walked back to where her sisters were sitting, but she was troubled 'too many people are dying of strange sickness now' she said.

I enjoyed hanging out with Swa- her 4 sisters and their cloud of children. We sat and ate guavas and maize while the kids played or suckled and the sisters talked and laughed. It made me miss family and appreciate the strenght of this matrilineal culture. Here, the women usually stay. Men marry into the womans family and move to the womans village. In this village each daughter had a house within 30m of their mothers house. Their auntys were 100m away, creating a strong sense of community and belonging. It also creates a level of security whereby the women have support if their husband takes a second/third wife- or he is trouble and they send him packing...

The conversation turned serious again- back to their cousin. There were raised voices, frustration. Swa- explained. The man had been taken to the hospital a long time ago- for 2 months, but then they took him to his wifes house. His wife stayed elsewhere and didn't care for him so they brought him to her fathers house to die. She offered to take him to the hospital- we had a car here- but the family said 'no'. They were afraid of the hospitals way. If someone comes back too many times and is not getting better, then they give them an injection and they die. They reminded her that when their sister was in the hospital the nurse came to give an injection and everyone around said 'what is this? is she that sick?' and a few minutes later their sister was dead.

How can I process this?! Is the hospital proactively killing terminally ill patients-or is this belief a culmination of too many people being taken to the hospital too late? There is a strong belief here that the hospital is where you go to die- no wonder the doctor yells. My housemate who did 7 weeks of nursing at the hospital assures me nothing of the sort goes on. Its all coincidence and rumours.
Before we left I took some photos and captured some of the dynamics of these beautiful sisters. I felt honoured to be included. They said I had to come back to eat ugali and pumpkin with them as a proper welcome. I look forward to it.

I was woken by a phone call this morning. ‘Hello Lina- I just want to tell you that patient we visited- he is dead. Yes. I am going there now'.

Random amazing fact heard on BBC news this morning:

Zimbabwe's official annual inflation rate is: 100 000%