Sorry for the stall. I've been busy, you see, in the middle of nowhere. Not only has internet connection been seldom but my time has been cluttered with eating, learning about kudu and sable, and finishing a novel I recommend. It's called The Corrections. The author can write.
The travel literature is filled with references to Malawi as "the warm heart of Africa"; the country has been pegged Africa for beginners which could be because all the other catchphrases were taken by the brighter and bolder, or because it's true.
I'm compulsively skeptical, of people, primarily, often of their intentions. And I'd be lying if I said I've rung that component out of me completely, like the suds of hand washed laundry. I've actually proven pretty dismal at hand washing laundry. Probably not the best metaphor. But what I'm slowly narrowing in on is the fact that the people I've met here, the Malawians, may be some of the kindest, most honestly genuine, truly interested and invested, and relentlessly caring people I've ever gotten to know.
It's a case in point that I honestly have gotten to know the people I've interacted with, even those I've only spent time with minimally: the taxi drivers, the waitresses, the men who led us to our villa/cabin by torch after dark. The nursing students, the village headmen. Lillian, the HIV/AIDS advocate I sat next to on the bus to Lilongwe and Gordon, the pastor I sat next to on the minivan to Mzuzu. (I had two missed calls from Lillian when I delayed in notifying her I had arrived at my final destination.) The local village health officers (Oscar, Alfred, Rirchard, and the one in Chilida) and their wives, that student we met crossing the street in Lilongwe our first full day in Malawi. The exchange of e-mail addresses and phone numbers with the majority of these people is standard. Cos, our first cab driver in the capital, called to say hello a week after our last ride together.
The smiles in Malawi come fast and big. Like the effect of barbs and benzos, the lips and eyes and teeth are perpetually ready to curve and squint and rupture into a laugh.
As I've eluded to prior, life here is not easy. I remain that the living in the moment lifestyle could be multifactorial in origin. But in the moment, at this moment, I think Malawians have it figured out. Just wanted to get this down.
On the way out of Majete; will write soon.
Love,
Rebecca
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