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Our motorbike

8/30/2015

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This motorbike is old by now and always requiring spare parts....in fact it can break down anytime anywhere. This has happened many times...but if it does, its all part of the deal and can turn into quite an interesting experience.  This is when the bush telegraph used to come into operation but now being surpassed by the mobile phone which even the “dogs in the street” possess. I often think that the bush telegraph was more efficient since phones have to be charged and with the intermittant electricity and this is a constant headache ...bring back the bush telegraph.! If its coming on to dusk when we break down this is an extra bonus since this is the time when the whole environment is transformed and a new life emerges. Little trading centres pop up under trees lit by fires or candles, and the night buzz begins. I almost feel that Im  in a different place at night...a more magical place and when the  mechanic arrives ( by some other kind of magic) and we are ready to go again the stars in the night sky are assisted by all the little fires dotted along the way and on the sides of hills as evening meals are cooked. Since I'm rarely out at night I enjoy the night spectacle and of course the bonus being the nice cool air .

But travel by motorbike is a much richer experience than travel by car. For one thing you are more part of the environment and theres a feeling of freedom which is a thing all humans aspire to. You also tend to see more.....you see the drudgery of  tilling the land by hand using the hoe which has been used for millenia for the same purpose and get amazed that such a big piece of land could be tilled by one person...often a woman!  At this time of year you see the roofs being regrassed on houses , bricks being burnt and houses going up since this is house building season. Mosquito nets seem to have a million different purposes...though not the one some Ngo had distributed them for! I have seen them covering vegetable patches, guarding young trees, fencing, tying bundles of firewood and I found myself sitting on one as a mat while visiting an orphan family ! As julius observed ...”that  anti malarial project was really successful “...but priorities are priorities. It reminds me of all the uses condoms are put to. So we now know that Food is the priority above all else . !This is also “Initiation “  ceremony time for boys but also for girls....and celebrations are seen all over the place with dancing and music to celebrate the occasions. We met some of the boys on the way down our track today together with the initiators...however the boys were hidden in a tent made of reed mats and so we could only see their legs.
Riding on the back of the bike is by no means a passive experience! You have to be alert for all sorts of eventualities since you wouldnt hear the warnings from the driver. First of all theres all the bumps...its like riding a horse, you have to go with them, then theres the ricketty bridges where you have to be ready to jump  if necessary though Julius is good at not attempting the worst of them. What about chickens, goats and children either sitting on the road or running across and so you have to be ready for a jerky stop.  Then we have the dust whirlwinds which travel across the scrubland and across the road...you have to  accelerate  before they hit you because if they do you will be absolutely covered in dust...up your nose , in your mouth etc. Probably my two most dreaded experiences  are the soft sand where I have to be ready to fall off in a good way as we slither and slide this way and that, but no...the really worst is the corrugated main dirt road. This is really like a touch of torture....as its not your seat that suffers but your intestines, head teeth and brain are put into spasm and you just hang on and wish for the torture to end...that I really hate .
However you get used to being ultra  alert  and you can still enjoy the scenes of life as it is... in the moment you pass. Its a must to wave to children, they hear the bike from afar and are there ready and waiting for their wave. I find it amazing to find a child of no more that 3 years walking along alone with no visible person in sight and I put it down to that sense of security which they have had from being tied on their mothers back  untill the age of 2 or beyond and experiencing life in all its manifestations. This may be why I find most Africans to be so secure and “comfortable in their skins”. I also like travelling on the motorbike as I myself am less conspicious...although people are so observant that the glimpse of a white ankle is enough to find my “fame” as the children shout in excitement “ msungo, msungo !“( white person).
But you do see life as it is and all life as it is lived...at least outside of the home and bearing in mind that most life is lived outdoors. Any houses that Ive been in in these rural parts have nothing in them except for  grain, and any other precious pulses, maybe also a sleeping mat and if people can afford it a blanket or two....but other than that ,,,..nothing, completely nothing. Animals are also seemingly welcome as Ive also met chickens in houses , in Mthobwa's house I recall that  the top of the computer was the hens favourite  perch.
I cant believe that I actually traversed all these roads and tracks on a bicycle for years...I must have been really fit.....climbing down river banks  and through rivers in the rainy season pulling and pushing that bike. It was a  happy day when I got the gift of a motorbike which served me well until my leg couldnt manage the kick start  and so Im now relegated to the pillion..... but the Motorbike really is the best means of transport in rural Africa...it can manage roads, tracks or no tracks...long may our motorbike live and with it those on it in safety.
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A place called Migowi

8/19/2015

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Migowi is where one of our furthest community Groups live and  meet. Although its more than 30 klms away in actual fact its not so difficult to get to since the road is partly tarred...a tar which comes off the dirt road and then returns to it. As we go I remind myself that  since Im no stranger to these parts I have to   see with “new eyes” - so that I remain in Awe, Wonder and ...Despair !
We began our journey down the mountain track passing a line of women with huge bundles  of firewood on their heads...having climbed as much as 1000 metres up the mountain in the hour before dawn and now on their long journeys back to their villages ...some as much as 10 and more klms...a little moment of Despair.... no change here over the long years ! En route we stopped to get fuel and I had an Awe moment when I saw a thing which in all my times here Ive never before beheld..a man giving a piggyback to a big goat...not over his shoulders as in the Christmas Crib...but like you would carry a child. Ive seen big black pigs being carried on the backs of bicycles but never this.! When we got to our group of volunteers we  found them sitting in their roofless centre...since the winter floods had taken part of the walls and roof. They looked as bedraggled as their centre due to this bad year for everyone....houses fallen, crops destroyed.  We all sat around the inside of the walls in the baking sun while they got on with their weekly meeting while I just wonder that they are here at all since many have walked a very long way in this hungry time. I had a Wonder moment when the home care supervisor was able not only to rattle off the statistics of the patients but also the day and date when the group was founded way back in in 1993 ! wow!
As we left julius rememebered that Luka..a handicapped shoemaker whom I knew about 15 years ago had met him and asked for us to visit and so we deviated into the Trading. Centre. Migowi Trading centre is a boisterous higgildy piggildy shambles of all sorts of little businesses....bike repairs, groceries, hairdressing, traditional medicines etc...all having their own little  business shacks. We managed to negotiate the bike without knocking anyones business over and arrived at Luka's ...him sitting amongst piles of shoes just as he was the last time I had seen him all those years ago. After greetings he climbed down from his high perch and crawled on hands and knees  to the backroon with us following.It was so dark that at first I couldnt make out all the photos on the wall , but as my eyes became accostomed I saw that the   wall was covered with photos of himself, family and the donors whom he had manaed to find ( through browsing on the internet ) to help with his handicapped bicycle organisation. Also on the wall was a blackboard with english words...it turns out that hes also trying to teach himself english. He has to be admired not only is he profoundly physically handicapped, is HIV positive ,has no education...but has managed to start a small organisation to get bicycles made for hanidcapped peoples. He also has a wife and 6 children...one now in secondary school.! Awe ! He is also now stuck for the internet as are we since the only internet “cafe” in the area has closed. I did wonder if a person such as he  would have been able to live such a fulfilled life in our western world or would he have joined his friends in a “comfortable” institution  and left on the outside of “normal” society.
We stopped at “The holy” market to get our maheu drink ( a sweet “pick - me-up” maize drink) and I asked one of the traders if the “Dancing man” was still around and was gratified to hear that he was.....and that he was still dancing there every day. He has been there for as long as I can remember...a tall man with long twists of hair and dressed in rags. No one seems to know his history but he has perfect english ( very unusual) the mark of being well educated but somehow “lost the plot” way back when. Hes also unusual since he wont accept charity and if you try to   give him money he just gives it back. Luckily I think that the traders look after his food needs and he sleeps in the abandoned bus shelter full of rubbish.
Having forgotten to get phone credits and to recharge my radio batteries ... Despair...a long night ahead! However I had a call from Mthobwa in blantyre and he sent me credits through his phone ... I had forgootten that little” trick” ,can we do that at home.? And so I end in wonder!
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Sundays

8/16/2015

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What  is it about sunday ? No matter where you are you would always know its sunday....its a feeling of loneliness...it pushes you right into yourself...maybe thats its job! Here I find it very lonely since everyone is gone back to their villages and so after coping with many sundays over the years...this year I decided to make plans for these sundays just to assuage that great overwhelming loneliness.
First things first ...I must eat..and so i set to making a pancake on the little clay stove. I set myself up with a low stool made from a plank on top of an old paint tin and then twigs and wood  and a bit of candle to help the fire to go. And it did! The pancake was a bit of a blob since it stuck to the pan but it filled my belly. Next I did my church ...me taking the priests part and reading some sacred readings ...just as Julius arrived all dressed up for his church...I invited him to attend mine but he declined.My little church just adds to the proliferation of churches of all types with all sorts of names  though mine remains unnamed with only one member!

I knew I had a certain duty to perform and that was to visit the chief of the village to which this land if not the house belongs. I dreaded this little visit for no reason only that since Im now back in the western world so long it brings me right out of my comfort zone. Anyway I put myself in order and went off down the track to the real village crossing the main dirt road and right into the heart of the village. Its a nice shady village with lots of mango trees and as i went the call was sent that a visitor was coming. A few people came out to greet me as i passed...even hugging me which also the wife of the chief did when she appeared. You dont see hugs in public really so its quite a special greeting which i needed on this day! We sat on the little verandah with the chief himself ..a small old man with twinkly eyes, his wife and the inevitable horde of sweet little children. We caught up with news as best we could with my poor chichewa and I came away with a bag full of beans. As is usual  I was fine once I made myself go and it was enjoyable especially to see that everyone had survived yet another year.
I had arranged with julius that we would go to the lodge for our lunch...a treat for both of us. He had been too tired to go to see his wife who lives quite a distance away and so was free to accompany me. Off we set up the mountain path for about 3 klms  to a lodge which a local business man had set up in the hope of having tourists. On the way we met some of our volunteers who were doing piece work on his land. One poor old woman bent double was just finishing having worked since 6am ...a lovely sweet lady....oh my heart! But I have never seen a tourist staying at this lodge  and I think its  mainly used for weddings or conferances etc. ...so it seems that the tourist  part of his business has failed.....but as for us we just go up there to sit in the garden and have our chicken and chips. Its actually a beauty spot with a lovely mountain pools and huge rocks as tall as a skyscraper further up...but today we just relaxed and ate. We did go up to see the tourist cabins in case sometime we may need them for our “tourists”( who also fail to materialise)! The big wound on this lodge is the caged monkeys and caged snakes...in a bush place where their friends are jumping from tree to tree around them or slithering around in the grass! I hate to see this and have complained many times ...but all to no avail. I feel that this is a real slur on the beautiful setting. Anyway out of site of the poor caged animals we enjoyed our chicken and chips  sitting under the shade of beautiful ancient trees.

And so by the time  we got back it was dusk  so this Sunday had passed leisurely and well.....and I had a nice hot bucket bath and settled down to read at my round table under the stars.
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The cycle of my living

8/3/2015

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After more than a week back at Likulezi I am well back into the rhythm of the Day/ Night cycle of my living...having re -kindled the little forgotten habits necessary for my sojourn here in the bush.
Im awake at around 6 am...at least an hour after the villagers in these parts who have already worked their fields while I doze on. Never good in the morning I hear Mpaha arriving from his village , chopping firewood and clattering around, sweeping and making breakfast. Breakfast for me is rice porridge mixed with banana with a sprinkling of powdered milk ....watched by a few monkeys sitting on the gatepost.! This of course is luxourious living for the people of these parts would be lucky to have some nsima left from the previous day or maybe some sweet potatoe. This year being particularly difficult since the crops have been decimated by the winters floods. Tea is my biggest luxury and comfort and I have a big flask which sits on my table to give me a necessary boost throughout the day.This same flask is carefully stored away when I leave and reappears on my table on my return here yearly...even though I would have forgotten all about it. Its not common hereabouts for people to drink tea...tea leaves are a luxury so tea to them is hot water and sugar...itself also a luxury!
All the staff have arrived by 7am ( 4 in all) and there are always stories from the villages...from villagers battles with guards over making charcoal to (most likely true ) to 3 boys being killed by ants (doubtful!)...but there never seems to be a dull moment...if not seen by me since the nearest village is about a kilometre down the track.
Since Friday is designated while Im here as orphan family visiting day so we set off on the motorbike ...me on the cushion to protect someone not well endowed from all the bumps ( the cushion is a bit of an embarrasment for Julius).. but still it appears though I myself would have again forgotten its existance. We had decided to visit 3 families and update the orphan photos but life is never so simple and the tracks to the houses were so hazardous due to the decimating floods of this year that we only managed to get to 2. Even the motorbike couldnt negotiate the boulders, broken bridges and slippery sand and so we spent much time walking and balancing on rickety bridges while women below washed clothes and I hoping that I wouldnt land on top of them. But anyway bad as the journey was it was worth it to visit these resilient families.
The first family was headed by Roseby....a grandmother herself ....caring for her own blind mother and 7 orphaned grandchildren. Of her own 8 children only 1 is still alive ...this being the Lost Generation due to AIDS. But Oh......I was humbled by her sheer resilience and accomplishments. There she is with all this burden......husband long dead...and she had year by year saved what she could from her tomatoe sales and managed to build a very decent house with iron sheet roofing. This was verified by the blind old mother who nodded in appreciation as she told us how she managed. She had also been using her permaculture skills ( taught yearly to orphan families by the project ) and made a success of the venture.
Our second family was in such a remote area that we had to get a little boy ( a very clever litlle fellow ) to guide us while sitting in front of julius on the bike since the tracks to the village had almost been obliterated. But these peole were really impoverished.. the chief dressed in a ragged ladies blouse rags .. a clever and literate man. By the time we did manage to reach the house we had a following of about 50 children all gathered along the way . This lady...” Mwandida”.. also a grandmother was keeping 4 orphans. Of the 15 of her own children only 2 still alive......that same generation wiped out! We took the photos of the orphaned children and also had to take photos of the follower children, the chief and of course Mwandida herself just so that no one feels excluded. Its really painful to see these children so full of life, joy and intelligence and to wonder what sort of life they can muster....it is to be hoped that some will be lucky because its lucky they would have to be in order to surmount the difficulty of emerging from dire poverty such as this.
And so we arrived back to the centre to transfer the photos to the computer...(here at the centre we have electricity ..though intermittant ) and to chat to chief mangoza who is the orphan programme coordinator about our visits. And so on to our place 2 kilometres up the mountain track with the majestic mulanje Mountain ahead of us..... hot and dirty to a welcome lunch prepared by Mpaha...nsima, Beans and turnip leaves...and I of course had my cup of tea.
      And now its dusk and all are gone back to their villages and I here alone ...well not really since we have 3 watchmen who are sitting out on the front balcony in the shadow of the great mountain... chatting. Im sitting at my round table writing this and enveloped by the symphony of the bush...the singing of the crickets and the occassional bark of a hyena and the comforting chatter of the watchmen....and suddenly the extra little comfort of a text from my sister. These watchmen have been with us for years and even though Solomon looks like hes on his”last legs” and can only limp along I would hate to lose them...I know them too well by now. They never want to give up work because that means back to dire poverty and so they usually die on the job !! Its a dark night but star spangled...the stars seem so big and bright here and some nights I lie in my hammock and enjoy the spectacle. But tonight I'm tired ...soon I will go inside . I'll chase all those little fellas out....its a pity I'm not an entomologist...I would be most happy!...I'LL make sure none have got into my bed and them ill snuggle down under my mosquito net and have the luxury of a read by candleight...and then zzzzz.
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Visit to Malawi 2014

6/18/2014

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    Today we are on the way to Nalijiri community group which have a few days training on. Each group is supposed to get at least one if not two trainings per year for capacity building and also as a motivational tool. We cross the main dirt road and onto the smaller road that leads to Nalijiri’s Groups hall which is situated on the side of a hill. When it comes in sight I note that the track to the little hall is obliterated such as it was and so Henry just takes a turn up a non visible track and straight through someone’s compound!
 Peeping over his head on the back of the motorbike all I can see are rocks ahead and so I wisely ask to get off and let him bump over himself. Nalijiri Hall is a small mud hall which they built themselves and there we find 20 of the 30 members already started their Training. The absent members are either sick, at funerals or doing ganyu (casual labour )somewhere. I was happy to see all the old faces and to see how the trainers (themselves upgraded volunteers) are managing to conduct the Training. 
   The Training is a conglomeration of different sessions from an Aids Education session, a session on Home care and a session on Capacity building and leadership. Billy (one of the Trainers) has been a volunteer since he was 13 years of age and has worked his way up to being in charge of 3 groups…no mean achievement for someone with only Primary education! The Training seemed to go well and for me that’s really gratifying since it’s a sign of empowerment for these poor village people. 
   The Groups were originally formed to try to combat the spread of HIV/ AIDS and to care for those infected. This of course is still a necessity but the good news is that most of our patients are now on antiretroviral drugs and so can keep well for most of the time apart from lapses. Since this is the present situation  these groups can now transit to the alleviation of the continuous poverty of their lives…..and so we have added a 3rd day to the trainings to teach on small business and accounts. 
    All of the Groups have been working Revolving funds ( micro finance) for several years and so we are lucky to have this basis for going forward into trying to get them into better circumstances and hopefully extend to patients. The small businesses are usually just buying and selling sugar or tomatoes, making doughnuts or beer and so we need to get them to expand the ideas.
       I’m quite in awe of these volunteers since they really get little for their efforts but we do buy goats into each Group, top up the revolving funds and give bicycle spares when funds allow. They live such harsh lives ( I saw several of them with the firewood on their heads this morning) coming down from the mountain ) and still they fit in the time and effort to be a volunteer – would I in their position? 
   Most of the groups are predominantly women and they are the ones who do most of the households work as well!. Work is strictly designated between men and women’s roles. However the bigger lot is a woman’s ! If women had the chance of education here what a place this country would be.! When we had funds to run Literacy circles…the participants were of course mostly women, women with babies on their backs and toddlers in tow, old women who couldn't even see the blackboard … but still they came!
        This great spirit of resilience has most likely been honed from hardship and uncertainty and given that they cant afford to think into the future people tend to "live in the present" Of course all the other human circumstances are there as well..the  sufferings, griefs,loneliness insecurities etc. that we all face and they are all borne so well by a people who live as no one should nowadays in our world, by a people living "on the edge of survival".
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    Gemma Brugha

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