7 quick takes....

1

. We had a fantastic few days of hiking and arrived back home last Wednesday. The hike was exhausting, there were times that I just wanted to sit down and not walk one more meter, but it was also exciting and unimaginably beautiful. There is no better way to experience the local village life than by walking through it, spending the afternoons after arriving to explore it and sleeping and eating with the people who live there. We were humbled by the hospitality we experienced, people would sleep on the floor so that we could sleep on their mattresses and complete strangers would run after us in order to bring us fresh fruit for on the way. We feel so privileged that we get to live, work and learn here.

2. I slowly undo my shoe laces and stare in the swirling river in front of me. My legs feel wobbly and I am not sure how well I will do. The lake shore path leads over many rivers. Some have bridges, many don't but they have always enough big boulders and stepping stones so that we do not have to get our feet wet. Except for this river. This river is ten meters of swirling rapids wide and seems rather impressive. The lake shore path on the other side seems far. I tie my shoes together with the laces and hang them over my neck. Doris sits in the carrier and tells me that we will be fine. I watch an old lady cross, strong on her feet, it's not the first time that she does this. I get handed a stick to probe in front of me as I wade through the river. You do not want to stand on the rocks, they are slippery and the force of the water will throw you over. The water covers my knees, my thighs are halfway in the river. I move slowly, the water is strong. I think about myself, but especially about Doris, her toes touch the water. The old lady could do it, but I did it too. Not as fast, and I certainly did not look as skilled, but I made it. Next time will be easier, I'm sure.

3. 

The sun sets quickly this close to the equator. The coolness of the night swiftly takes away the heavy humid heat of the day. We sit on the doorstep of the house of our host and watch them play. Sophie, Doris and about ten kids from the neighbourhood who came to see something they had never seen before; 'mwana mzungu' (a white child). They sing a song and dance in a circle. The dance is wild and fast but the bigger kids have a gentle awareness  around the little ones to make sure that they don't get hurt. Doris little voice pipes up: 'Ring a ring a rosie', the other kids get quiet and let Sophie and Doris sing their song, they hold hands and dance along to this new game. Small voices start singing, join the two voices I know so well. Sophie turns around to see if I am watching. Her face is sweaty, strands of hair stick to her face, she beams. The sun is gone, stars are appearing and the children dance. There is no moon, no light. Colours fade and become different shades of grey,  the different dancers get harder to distinguish. Together with the light the stark contrast between the mwana mzungu and the kids from the village disappears. Children's voices sing, bare feet tramp the soil, laughter and shrieks of joy escape. The language of play is universal.

4. Our destination for the day is not too far anymore but I am in need of a break. A break from the sun that tirelessly beats down on us. A break from walking on uneven grounds. I am thirsty. Samson, our friend who is helping us, tells me that he has an uncle who lives just up the hill.  We could visit him. An uncle is anybody who is vaguely related and older than you but that does not change the warmness of a welcome that you receive. At our arrival a mat is put down on the sand so that we can rest and before we know it a fresh papaya is fetched and we get to replenish our energy. We meet the uncle. He is an elderly man, full of stories and full of joy. I have rarely met a person who radiated contentment in such an authentic way. He used to work in the big cities, had a lot more money but then decided to move to the country side where he lives in his simple house on his cassava field. The view over the lake is stunning, the mild breeze cooling and the land gives enough to eat. We meet his wife.They have been married for almost 60 years. She had a stroke, her movements are slow and she has trouble speaking. He introduces her with pride. A meal of fish and kondowole nsima appears. We eat and the old man smiles. He has nothing that he wants. Only plenty to give.

5. A friend of ours, told me that his mom was sick, she lives not far from us so going to her for a quick visit to encourage her would be no problem. I should have known that it was never going to be a quick visit. Old people can't be rushed, anywhere in the world. Old people in a small African village, who have always lived with the rhythm of nature and never by the ticking of the clock should never be asked to do things faster than they intended to do. And that's why I still sat on her porch, an hour after I said that I should leave because I had to cook. When I arrived she had send one of her grandchildren to quickly go to the village to buy me a Fanta and some biscuits. Just for me, everybody else got to watch how I drank my Fanta. I did not have the heart to tell her that I actually really don't like carbonated drinks, and especially not the way-too-sweet cooldrinks that they sell in Malawi. After that the grandson had to climb the tree to get some fresh oranges for me. This was the point where I told her that I had to leave but that was obviously far too early. A few weeks before that I had said that I would love to learn how to make a local dish with sweet potatoes and peanuts and 'mama' was determined to teach me every intricate step of the dish before I would go home. She got out a big wooden mortar and pestle. Before I got to use it I learned how she bought it in Blantyre and how she carried it with her on the boat, even though it was quite heavy. She threw a handful of peanuts in the mortar and showed me how its done. Strong arms, steady pounding.  I am clearly a slow student because she wasn't quickly satisfied with my efforts. After an hour the handful of peanuts was transformed into half a cup of peanut flour, cooking from scratch without electricity is a tedious process. Now I really had to leave but not before 'mama' showed me how to peel and cut a sweet potato with a massive knife. I left her home with a bag full of food and some new knowledge. It was an interesting visit.

6. One of the best parts of our work is that we do not need to travel to 'see' the world. We get to spend time with people from many different countries because guests and volunteers come from all over the world. At the moment we have three French students who will stay with us for a month and I am loving the fact that I get to brush up my French vocabulary. Because we don't have internet or electricity most of our guest stay after our communal supper in the restaurant for chats and boardgames and nobody ever gets stuck on their phone or skipping through tv channels. I can recommend it 😉.

7. We try to make to do lists and plan our work but not one day goes by where nothing unexpected happens. Sometimes great, sometimes frustrating. That said, we have some pretty exciting things on our list this week. I will go up in the mountains to the coffee fields with one of our staff members who is from that area to map a new hiking route to our lodge. It will take a day to get there and to explore the area. We then hope to spend the night in a village up in the mountains and the next day we will hike back. (If I post this I am probably up in the mountains because there is also internet reception.) Hartmut will stay behind with the girls and hopefull make a start with my oven. He has made drawings and collected material to make me a real old fashioned clay oven. I cannot wait to be baking muffins, fresh bread and cinnamon rolls!