Luckybeans

Mulanje Massif Day Four

The last day was the day of our descent. The minunu path is extremely steep, but beautiful. The whole way is through verdant, mossy forest, and much of it follows streams. I had to keep stopping to pet the moss or talk to the ferns, or admire a tree's particularly beautiful roots or buttresses. The air is so clean and pure and moist and fresh. I think I was meant to live someplace like this.

We reached the bottom in good time, exhausted but happy. My knees, remarkably, are still in one piece today. I don't know if or when we will go again, but this felt like such a gift.

Mulanje Massif Days 2&3

We woke up with the light before it broke over the peaks behind us. A magical dawn of fog and smoke on the land below us.

The children were very good at eating (lest you were wondering), and a funny hat was absolutely a requirement on this trip.

Ute and I drank tea and discussed politics endlessly. Wait, I'm lying. There is no way we discussed politics. The meaning of life, maybe. Politics, electricity and minibuses, No.

During the two middle days on Mulanje, we explored waterfalls and streams, and spent a lot of time roasting things and making small projects.

We wrote, carved boats, made wreaths and even carved our own spoons. The second hut we stayed in had no cutlery. Can you guess which one was mine? It worked very well, for the record. Although everything did taste very strongly of cedar.

On the third day, we also crossed over to the second, spoonless hut we stayed in called Minunu. it is tiny, and we barely all fit in. But although the kids and I slept outside on our second night, the wind was too strong for that on the last night. So sardines we were.

The views on the crossover weren't too bad, either.

Mulanje Massif Day One

On the first day, we started from Mulli Brothers Tea Estate. There wasn't any tea to be seen, but it was hot and dry. We made our way up from among the housing through the millet fields. Have I mentioned how lovely the grass is right now?

It takes between four and six hours to get to the top (including picnics), but that is not walking; it is serious climbing. We had to take many opportunities to stop and notice what we were passing. As we climbed, we saw the vegetation change with the elevation as well.

Any hiker will tell you how important it is to take care of your feet. We brought lots of plasters and socks. We used them all.

By mid-afternoon, we reached the plateau (at about 2000m). It is a beautiful, rolling grassland with valleys of wooded forest that follow the streams, and peaks rising from it. There is nothing so good as a bath in a freezing mountain stream. I think that is the real reason I hike to begin with.

We spent the first two nights in this hut, called Thuchila (too-chee-lah). Like all huts on Mulanje, it is built from Mulanje cedar and has a stone fireplace for heat and cooking. Thuchila is a large, three roomed one, and has had its doors and windows trimmed in blue. At over a hundred years old, it is one of the oldest on the mountain.

And yes, the sunset was rather spectacular.

A Busy Weekend

This weekend we were very busy people. We made things. 

1. Asher and I made this tree out of a stick we found. I don't know why I never thought of this before. We stuck it in a round bit of wood from Simon's scrap box, and used wool for leaves. You could stick it in a ball of air dry clay, though, and use anything from felt to ribbons to moss to tissue paper for leaves, too. Our tree has three seasonal changes--- dry season, wet season and cold season (also known as bare naked).

2. While we were occupied with trees, Ana made us a meringue ocean of little capped waves in blues. Mmmmm. She used almond essence in them, and that is very tasty.

3. This may not be so in your house, but in my family tomtens are very important creatures. When I was a little girl, my much adored cousin lived on a farm with chickens and a barn and a fox, and this story became her favourite. She sent the book to me (for my fourth birthday?), and we have all known that there is a tomten in Auntie Lynne's barn ever since. We don't have a farm, or a barn, or even some chickens. But we needed a tomten anyway.  I suspect he and Asher are off to rustle up some porridge (making "Tomten Porridge" was one of Ana's favourite activities when she was a preschooler, lest I forget).

We also went for our weekly nature walk. This time we went up "The Way of the Cross" on the near side of Michiru. It is maintained by the Catholics, and has scenes from the crucifixion on brass plaques the whole way up. It is meant to be a walking meditation (or penance, depending on your fitness level?), I think. I'm not so sure. Anyway, it is the easiest trail to get to from our house when you don't have so much time, so this is where we found ourselves.

This is the time of year when the grasses are in all their glory. The rains have just ended and the evenings are cool. There are literally dozens of varieties growing in stands and along the roads, and they are so beautiful and brief. They are as soft and touchable as they look-- illumined down.

There was also a civet's bathroom near the path. This may not sound all that exciting, but it really was. It shows us how many little creatures are finding sanctuary in this small forest. There was even a wee dung beetle there on duty. I love the blue luminescence of its shell. You can find beauty in someone else's poo pile if you know how to look, I guess.

Nature Morning at Michiru

Yesterday Ute and I took five "big kids" for a hike and some play time on the nature reserve near us. It was wonderful to witness these children in the natural environment. Throughout the hike they shouted and sang, talked then fell silent, ran ahead and lagged behind, went rushing through and stopped to observe. Continual motion and activity.

(stone, beetle, termite "castle", frog)

We spent over five hours on the mountain, and even then headed home reluctantly. There was not a moment of boredom or complaint, no scuffles or disagreement.

The stream is a favourite place to play, and we spent a long time building dams and boats and waterwheels from found materials.

They were asking questions and problem solving, so busy and intent.

(nest, butterflies, velvety seedpod, wildflowers)

We returned home exhausted, wet and dirty, but very happy. And eager to return.

Sweet Days

A trip to Majete park, with a man I love.

And best friends.

Watching rushing water.

Finding such beauty, reminding me of all that God has gifted us. 

Today I pray for mindfulness and to walk this earth with peace in my heart.

It is not easy to live in a developing country. On a personal level, the challenges of daily living can quickly overwhelm-- nothing comes easily, nothing simply works. To withdraw money, I make the rounds to find the ATM that is dispensing cash today. To get onto the main road, I bump may way down a nearly impassable dirt track that our house is on. To buy bread I learn the time and routine of various shops and show up at the right one at the right time and cross my fingers. Electricity is hit and miss, water can go off for days, and the internet-- well, best not to go into it. The traffic drives me absolutely mad. No one follows rules, no one obeys basic courtesy, cars are in various states of disrepair, and most drivers have negligible (if any) training.  Yes, these things are stressful, and yes, they do really get to me at times. But these are all part of choosing to live here, part of what I know I will have to deal with to be in this country.

There are other things that bother me a lot more. Every day, thousands of children from all over the city walk to school. They walk alone, or in small groups, often holding hands. Some have uniforms, some wear snazzy satin numbers from the second-hand market, and a large number are barefoot.

They learn in run-down classrooms, seated in rows on the floor, writing with pencil stubs and poking one another in the back of the head when they think the teacher isn't looking.

Really, they don't learn much. Well, how could they. But they are sweet and friendly, and they still show up most days. Simon's job is developing radio programs to supplement the class work (honestly-- to teach in half an hour what they fail to learn otherwise in the rest of the day). The classes that put it into practice do remarkably well. But that isn't what bothers me.

It is looking at these faces, knowing how fragile these lives are. Knowing that one bout of malaria, cholera or even a basic bacterial infection could be the end of them. Knowing that they live in a country that is so grossly inefficient, there is not the electricity to run the water pumping stations, and when the stations run, 48% of the water from the reservoire doesn't even reach the city as the pipes are in disrepair.

Tuesday morning, on my way home after dropping my children off at school, I stopped because the road was blocked. Looking around the three cars ahead of me, I saw a man pick a limp child off the road and load him into a vehicle. Traffic stopped. People gathered. And after a minute, the car with the boy drove towards the hospital, the driver's face expressionless in shock. The boy had run into the street, barefoot in a uniform. The road was covered with a wide spatter of his blood, too red in that sombre morning light.

And this is what breaks my heart. No cross walk. No street safety training. No one worried about the legislation of such things. It will not even make the paper.

Life is so fragile, and yet it seems too cheap here. 

Hanging in there

Yes, we are alive. Sort of. We have been experiencing "life in a developing country" as of late-- no power or water for most of the day until this past week, and of course no internet in sight. Our connection should be installed this week. Escom has sorted (most) of its electricity problems. We are putting in a holding tank so we no longer have to use buckets lugged from the pool as loo flushing back-up (and you thought of pools as unnecessary luxuries, didn't you?).   I will be back, truly.

Off to the Lake

We are hoping a few days at the lake will clear our viruses up, and see us back on Monday refreshed and ready to go! Back then.

Michiru

This is the forest reserve just down the road from us. We like to go there and frolic amongst the trees and squelch in the fresh new mud. This is more like it.