I've never seen anything like it. The minivans that shuttle us to and fro Mzuzu fill to double the capacity. Without exception. Every time. And this doesn't even include the children, spread across mothers' laps'. I was sitting in one such minivan this morning, on a makeshift seat extending into the aisle. I was right up against the left lateral window of the sliding minivan door, with a huge view of the sky. It was congested today (the sky), with bloated grey rain clouds that hung low and overlapped. Edging each other out. I was cold all day; it wasn't until late afternoon that the blue sky staged a breakthrough. And even that was short lived.
En route to Mzuzu we pass an outdoor market. I mean that rather literally: these are markets outdoors. (We also pass them in Mzuzu, Ekwendeni, everywhere, really.) Women sit in the red dirt earth with their offerings spread out in front of them, bright extensions of their faded but colorful skirts: pyramids of tomatoes, mounds of dried rice, large plates of green beans and peanuts; clusters of small purple onions, bananas, sugarcane, heads of lettuce. Potatoes, bloated avocados. There are none-food items too, sometimes, but this is what catches the eye.
I've been curious my whole time here about the supply and demand, when it comes to these outdoor markets: unlike the minivan seats, the quantity of fruits and vegetables and grains laid out on flattened plastic bags seems to dramatically outnumber the sales being made. I wonder where the leftovers go. I wonder how the money is made, the sales are puny too. For the equivalent of 1 USD (400 kwacha), 40 small bananas. See how carefully they're counted. Emily bought a distended mango-like fruit this week for 150 kwacha. It's at least 2 times the size of the American variety.
When the fruits and vegetables aren't squatting on the earth, in front of the women, they're paraded around atop heads. It's true: there's no limit to what an African woman can carry on her head; a vertical extension of the cranium. Earlier this week I saw a young woman balance rods of sugar cane, six feet long. A human seesaw.
Okay, I think that's all I'll say for now. I have 2 more nights in Ekwendeni before I leave for Lilongwe. Did you hear? My parents are coming. There's so much for them to see.
Love,
Rebecca
PS: we saw some incredible things at the hospital this morning, will recap that soon.
En route to Mzuzu we pass an outdoor market. I mean that rather literally: these are markets outdoors. (We also pass them in Mzuzu, Ekwendeni, everywhere, really.) Women sit in the red dirt earth with their offerings spread out in front of them, bright extensions of their faded but colorful skirts: pyramids of tomatoes, mounds of dried rice, large plates of green beans and peanuts; clusters of small purple onions, bananas, sugarcane, heads of lettuce. Potatoes, bloated avocados. There are none-food items too, sometimes, but this is what catches the eye.
I've been curious my whole time here about the supply and demand, when it comes to these outdoor markets: unlike the minivan seats, the quantity of fruits and vegetables and grains laid out on flattened plastic bags seems to dramatically outnumber the sales being made. I wonder where the leftovers go. I wonder how the money is made, the sales are puny too. For the equivalent of 1 USD (400 kwacha), 40 small bananas. See how carefully they're counted. Emily bought a distended mango-like fruit this week for 150 kwacha. It's at least 2 times the size of the American variety.
When the fruits and vegetables aren't squatting on the earth, in front of the women, they're paraded around atop heads. It's true: there's no limit to what an African woman can carry on her head; a vertical extension of the cranium. Earlier this week I saw a young woman balance rods of sugar cane, six feet long. A human seesaw.
Okay, I think that's all I'll say for now. I have 2 more nights in Ekwendeni before I leave for Lilongwe. Did you hear? My parents are coming. There's so much for them to see.
Love,
Rebecca
PS: we saw some incredible things at the hospital this morning, will recap that soon.
Congested sky staging a breakthrough? just brilliant
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