Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Weather woes and Ceremonies
Have just seen two fabulous ladies of 84 off to Mumbo. They have been traveling together for 25 years all over the world. One was the professor of anatomy at Wits for 40 years, and took up skiing at 74, but gave it up at 79 as it was just too difficult to catch the ski lift with all that gear. What darlings - very inspiring.
All is going swimmingly here. Joseph is a winner in the office - very charming and a natural. Also one of those people who is so easy to work with as he is not invasive in any way. And Lucy started too - and she, too, is so nice to have around. An English girl, witty and efficient as anything and a tea drinker (in fact all three of us are, so it is a harmonious office these days).
There is a big building programme around base camp these days - we are putting up a bamboo fence to shield sensitive guests from the view of the chaos the children create next to our office! Jurie is also making himself a bedroom upstairs separate from his children so that's a lot of sawing and whatnot. And out in the village it is also roofing season and brick-making season - now that it's hot and the thatching grass is ready for cutting and the bricks can be sun-baked and houses made ready for the coming rains. It has reached that time when the heat begins to build up to a hellish crescendo by November and the rains come to save us from ourselves. Dreading it! Especially as the kids can't swim in the lake at the moment as there are biting midges in it and after one swim they can be covered in little blistered bites that itch like hell and keep them awake. Have resorted to putting a big laundry bucket in the shower and they wash things and frootle about in it and stay cool and clean.
My chitenje outfits are perfect in the heat. But have to get more from Lilongwe again soon as Pam and I want to sell them at the Lake of Stars music festival in October. Let me rephrase that: Pam will sell them there, I will put up cash and organise Billy to sew things, but I will not set foot near the stall. My idea of hell is a music festival full of backpackers all camping on a crowded beach with 24 hour trance music blaring. AAArrrgh. I am very old.
This weekend was very interesting. Irene, our laundry lady, was inaugurated as head of her family. Hers is the family we rent the land from and Joseph is her brother and her father is Phillip the night watchman who sleeps on the boat every night. She shared the ceremony with three others. The party began when family from all the surrounding villages arrived by boat and Jurie's truck and set up fires behind us next to the big baobab. They cooked and sang and the drummers drummed and the party went on until the next morning. Then the ladies washed up and made pala (porridge) for breakfast (after dancing all night). The men by this time were mostly catatonic from beer and there were many lurchers (but always good-natured ones; the Malawian spirit seems to be kindly even when pissed). There was a brief lull and then the exhausted drummers began again and everyone went one by one throughout the day to pay their respects to Irene and her fellow family heads who sat all day on a mat in a hot house and received salutations absolutely impassively. I went to pay my respects and was a bit disconcerted by the solemnity of the occasion. Then in the afternoon things hotted up again and the dignitaries emerged from the hot house, veiled in chitenjes, spouses too, and led by the ancients of the area, they slowly walked to the enormous fig tree on the beach for the real ceremony. This entailed the elders making speeches about the importance of the family (they are of the Madoti family whose ancestor was the first man to come to Cape Maclear. The only reason they are not chiefs is that when the Mazungus (whites) came, they were too scared to deal with them and a fellow called Chembe was the only man brave enough to go forward and talk to the whites. He was then made chief of the area under the British. There is still a Chief Chembe here today, but negotiations are underway to split the village back into two areas, Madoti and Chembe. This is a long story and of course I have heard the Madoti version. Chief Chembe not a popular fellow - he doesn't even live in the village and is always on the take.)
Anyway, back to the ceremony (I am probably boring you all witless, and only continuing in the footsteps of many millions of travelers who think themselves amateur anthropologists and faithfully record their impressions which all turn out to be completely erroneous as we are mere outsiders in the end, but I have a moment and the music blares in my ear and I have nothing better to do and I found the whole thing interesting, if interminable!) - so then the elders got up one by one and renamed the chosen four. This was done by sipping from a cup of sugar cane liquor and then chanting the new name and giving the appointee a sip and then doing it all over again. We were there to represent Kayak Africa - Franklyn had informed us that we were expected to give a large financial gift and to be there in person to present it. So Jurie and I went with the kids to do the thing (while Bush held the fort as by his own admission, it was not his sort of thing - he is a shocking fidgeter!) Jurie had Zoda fetch him beer and was then happy to sit in the shade til called. Ben said the drums were banging his head and was miserable and Eddie was coming down with what later turned out to be a vomiting bug and clung palely to me all afternoon. Not a success with the kids....
We eventually were called by the master of ceremonies and presented our gifts to great applause and then the floodgates opened and all the candidates were covered in new chitenjes and new clothes and cash and whatnot and we sidled off while that continued for the rest of the day.
Poor Eddie then vomited all night and had a high temperature, but was right as rain the next day,if tired. So was I! He spent the afternoon sleeping on a mattress in my office while Ben and Bush went to the pool and Ben astounded his father by swimming perfect freestyle which he said he'd learned from watching Bush and Tintin!
That is probably enough for you by now - sorry if I went on a bit!
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