Life and death

Returned from Mumbo yesterday with the immediate family - Bush, Ben and Eddie. We went to do a little hosting duty, but also to have some family time and it was a joy and delight. Bush and Ben did many "baventures" into the forest, and Eddie and I frootled about on the beach. The landscape did an about-turn in a mere week: it went from being dry and dusty and crackling, with a heat haze of dust hanging over everything, to a lime green lush canopy with incredible fire lilies among the rocks and roots, clear crisp air and gorgeous wild cloud formations in the sky. We can see all the way to the other side of the lake, to the green mountains there. All this from just four great thunder storms. I'll attach a pic so you can see I am not just indulging my descriptive flights of fancy (which, when I cast an eye over them, are hardly the stuff of great literature, but heartfelt, in their defense.)
Before we left there was a horrible sad day here when Lyoness's sister's third child died (the previous two also died) of some nameless disease, which the hospital always just calls malaria, but may be anything. For all of her children to have perished, it must be some genetic disease. The poor woman was distraught and the truck was sent to fetch her, and the elder women of the family who had sat vigil at the hospital with her, from Monkey Bay. The family got the call at about 4am and we were woken by a terrible wailing and keening. I was so scared it was one of the children we know so well from here, and as it was, he was one of Javi's little friends who spent some holidays here and they would speak on the phone sometimes. His name was Samuel - known as Samwelly.
Funerals take the form of silent gatherings of everyone who knows the family around the family house. This was just behind us. Most of our staff went and the street was packed with quiet groups of people sitting on all the verandahs and under the big baobab waiting for the boy's body to arrive back in a box, along with his grieving parents and family members. There was a palpable feeling of sadness all day. When the truck arrived, everyone began singing and wailing. Poor Javi was utterly distraught at seeing Samwelly in a box but insisted and screamed until she was allowed to. Then the women went off to wash and ready him to be buried and people sat and then preachers preached until the burial service. The whole rite of passage took three days.
The immediate family stayed with the bereft for the whole time. I think it must be very comforting to have all those people giving silent support (they also give money to help with burial costs).
One is much closer to death here.
But on a happier note, Janie comes to work with her mother Mabel every day now after I insisted (we are very forward thinking in terms of looking after our female staff! And so we should be because Fegness our biscuit chef also just had a baby and Irene, our other laundry lady, has her fourth child on January. So it will abound with babies around here next year.) Janie is a complete joy - tries to chat and smile and engage even at a mere 6 weeks old.
No more news really. Times are about to get busy, but are still quite quiet. Jurie and his children and Lyoness leave on Friday, so it will be very quiet and different around here in December, although both islands are full from the 15th til we shut on Jan 12. We leave on the 12th too and get back to CT on the 13th and the boys start school the next week - am a bit apprehensive about that week! Might require depths of organisational ability I simply never have had - tend to flounder in the shallows in that area.
You know what will be so nice about getting back? Not having a mozzie net - I am heartily sick of crouching to get in and out of my bed - and putting the kids into long sleeves every evening and spraying them and me with repellent and taking our homeopathic anti-malaria pills every morning and night. It will be such a relief not to have that niggling anxiety all the time.

Fertiliser

I am sure you are all sick of my refrain' "It's sooo hot!!", but God, it's sooo hot!!
I thought October was as hot as it could get but today takes the cake. Melting, solid, thick heat.
It is so hot that I am spurred into taking a daily morning swim to the yellow boat and back every morning for some exercise and to move the flaccid frame after the long night snuggling up to the fan. I sometimes find Ben upside down in his bed because he has tried to move closer to his fan - not that it blows cool air, but at least it moves the stultifying night air around. I have avoided Mumbo hosting duties because there's no electricity out there and thus no fan. Can't be done! The poor guests - though none seem the worse for it.
Eddie has a heat rash around his neck, on his forehead and down his back - he very sensitive to it. Ben is fine - I think because he swims such a lot.
After I wrote that, it rained during the night and has done for the last two nights - a joy and thrill! Eddie got into a bit of a panic about the accompanying thunder and lightning and the roof leaked over his head, so he came to sleep with me and Bush had his bed (he did move it.) I have to say I loved having his little body snuggling up to me all night - I have always been so adamant that children should sleep in their own beds, and mine always have, but it really is a treat to have that tiny little chap snuffling away next to me on occasion. (But did once make the mistake of having them both share my bed on Mumbo one night - and it was pure hell. Didn't sleep a wink as they tossed and flung limbs about and kicked each other and me in the face and did 360 degree spins and fell out of the bed three times each!)
It is still scorching during the day, but I can see a glimmer of hope. I think the rainy season might be a delight. I will keep you informed (though I can't imagine a tropical weather report really fills anyone's heart with excitement - but it helps to share the enthusiasm!)
We have begun preparations for Christmas. The children collected seed pods on Mumbo ages ago and yesterday they began painting them. Then I had what I have to proudly say was a brainwave. Amos, one of the carvers, came to see me about buying some of his things because it is nearly planting season and he needs to buy fertiliser and it is so expensive this year (I will go into that later). He makes mobiles, so I ordered just the wooden flying birds from the mobile, minus the frame, and we have painted them for Christmas decorations. They are delightful, though I say it myself. And Hyco, another carver, made some lovely wooden stars and we bought some painted monkey apples in Lilongwe and the children are painting the rest at school this morning - now all we need to find is some sort of Christmas tree....
There is a fertiliser crisis in Malawi this year. Last year it cost K4000 a bag and this year it costs K10 000. Apparently it has to do with the price of oil. So that means that the average rural farmer cannot afford to buy it. But, as always in Africa, where people become resourceful because they have to, there is a plan. The government gives the poorest people fertiliser coupons to exchange for a bag of the stuff. A lot of these people live in areas where the soil is still rich mainly because there is only one planting season in the year and the land lies fallow for the rest of time, and of course this is because it only rains once a year here for three months. So they then sell their coupons to people from areas with poor soil - like Cape Maclear. We have given all our staff K5000 towards it, and they have had advances on their wages to get more. So now there is a frantic rushing around to find a village selling coupons. Planting will begin as soon as the rains do - soon now. All the fields are prepared - all hoed and cleared by hand and the season of fires is over at last so the hazy air is clearing. I really hope there were enough coupons to go around the whole country, otherwise there will be another famine. Scary - if your one crop fails, there is no hope of another. This is one of the poorest countries in the world and at times like this, you can see disaster looming.
Anyway, that is to worry about next year, I suppose, and perhaps if the oil price comes down, as it now has, next year will be a boom year.
Too hot to write anymore and have made myself anxious now!

tea and verandahs

Hello all
Just back last night from Lujeri tea estate underneath the towering Mulanje mountain. So very gorgeous, just as I had hoped: all those magnificent green slopes and huge trees and red earth roads and old stone walls propping up the plantations - aah! Lujeri also has a huge river running through it which has beautiful rock pools to swim in, so we spent a very happy morning wallowing there. And the house we stayed in was gorgeous too: all old pink walls and a wrap-around wide verandah with old couches on it for lazing on, and ceiling fans (wonky and a bit scary so we never slept with them on as I always think they are going to come spiraling down any minute to decapitate one!), and two lovely men who cooked and made beds and brought trays of tea at opportune moments. I know I sound like a shocking colonial, but golly it is nice to have a cook on holiday!
We bought a lot of lovely fresh fruit and veg at the Tyolo local market (lots of little old ladies under reed roofs with little piles of home-grown produce: strawberries, custard apples, pineapples (so sweet!), cauliflower, broccoli, marrows and now mangoes as far as the eye can see! We ate huge fruit salads after every meal and lots of veg meals. Most of the time we spent lolling about on the verandah reading books while Ben and Eddie were exemplary children playing made-up games with seedpods they found which they made into characters, replete with different voices and even accents! All day they played that game.
And we had such a treat: a thunderstorm of epic winds and lightning and thunder during our first day. Loved it! So then we were guilt-free about not doing anything with the day. The next morning Pam and I did a tour of the tea factory: when I told the manager that I drank about 12 cups a day, he was my biggest fan and addressed the rest of the explanations to me. We even did the tasting and spitting and examining of the hue and I loved every minute. In fact I spotted a place I would like to work in my next incarnation (when?): The Tea Research Foundation of Central Africa, Mimosa Station! Doesn't that sound ideal? It is a little one-story white building with a verandah on all four sides and rickety french doors and a tin roof all set under enormous shady trees with different coloured bougainvilleas cascading out of them. Not sure what I'd do there, but researching tea sounds within my capabilities!
The flame trees are flowering all over Malawi - beautiful spreading trees with not a leaf, just red or orange flower on every stalk. Will attach a pic. So are the baobabs - if you haven't seen a baobab flower, you have missed out. It is like a ballerina in a tutu/rose/frothy frilly soft white confection, a thing of joy!
There are rumblings and clouds forming every evening now, but the rains have not yet come. Can't wait, though I am sure I will not enjoy the dampness for long! But the heat really builds up now, and you can feel the pressure building up, waiting to be released by a nice big explosive thundery storm!
My computer is doing something strange now - deleting everything in front of the cursor if I try to type into a line I've already written - so no editing allowed! Can only go on from here.
So we are back in the saddle again and no more holidays for us! November is still quite quiet, but December is full and we have the whole of Mumbo booked for two days for a wedding. So that might require some extra work too. Think we'll get Cleartone's church choir to sing on Christmas day on Mumbo and our gnomish gardener, Mavuto (which means Trouble!) and his son, Nindi, to drum on New Year's for the edification and entertainment of the guests... Have to think of something nice to eat too. And what to do here and who with???
Being a bad mum again and have bathed and toothcleaned the darlings and popped them under the net to watch Buzz Lightyear again while I sit under mine to email.
Will affix pretty pics and then do some mothering.

malaria and croup

Hello darlings
Well it's been a time of trial out here in the sweltering tropics! It went like this:
Eddie got malaria
Ben got malaria (while Eddie was still not well with his malaria)
Eddie got croup (while Ben was still not well with his malaria)
Ben got croup (while he was still not well with the malaria)
Ben got chest infection
Clive got sore throat
Trace got exhausted...
But it's all over now, except that Ben is still taking antibiotics and they both cough all night.
Ben had never been sick for more than a day before this and kept waking up from his coughing and screaming "I'm dying!" Very dramatic and heart-rending at first and very tiring on the 95th yell!
Thankfully I could take a day off yesterday on his last day in bed (had them alternating days on a mattress in my office, or I worked from our room.) He watched a medley of Gummi Bears (american gunk which they love!) and Eddie went back to school and they both felt fine in the afternoon so I banished them onto the verandah to play lego with Zoda and I retired to my bed with the Sex in the City extended movie (crap) and my beloved white fan and a packet of expired orange puffy cheese chips. Felt foul thereafter naturally - theory always better than practice! Both right as rain now and full of new games and fight moves after watching Kung Fu Panda...
Otherwise have been embroiled in a little local politics. After a large meeting of all parties involved in tourism pursuits here in the village (the National Parks, lodge owners, curio vendors and 'beach boys' (local term for fellows who speak in fake American accents, wear board shorts and t-shirts with the sleeves cut off and have dreads - who mainly take local boat tours around the place and sell weed)) it was reported back to me that the vendors had a problem with our shop on Mumbo. I got almost tearful, because I have been so careful to buy from a whole range of people to spread the cash around a bit. Anyway, I consulted our new managers (4 guys on the Malawian staff who have moved up a level: Edward, Franklin, Sutha and Joseph) to get advice and Joe went off to consult with Mr Chimombo (Eddie's friend who made his model of Nankappa and is vendor representative) and reported back that in fact that was incorrect, thank God!, and they just wanted to show some of their wares here at Base, and to have us encourage visitors to go out into the road to visit their stalls. Fair enough, so we all shook hands amicably and there was no further need for lumps in throat.
Otherwise life rolls on, sweatily. (Have discovered those deodorant crystal sticks though and can vouch for their efficacy, but sadly one cannot apply them over the entire mortal frame and especially not to the old visage, which beams shinily like a moon these days.)
It's odd, having grey hair has made me feel my age (or perhaps even older). I have no desire at all to party on down at the three local bars or to go out at all. Probably not a good thing and certainly a bone of contention with my ever-youthful and happy-to-party husband! I have been told the salt and pepper makes me look distinguished - and let's face it, no babe of twenty, or even, thirty is ever told that. Clearly I look my age too!
But there is no going back to the bottle or the henna goo - the effort and cost is not worth it I think.
I have accepted this stage in my life here as being very insular and simple. Work and kids and the hammock on the verandah - and the many happy interactions with both guests and staff are enough for me this year. And I have a great sense of accomplishment about what we've done so far too.
But I still haven't managed to start a tree-growing project. That is my obsession, as the deforestation of this country is scary. Have just bought 3 bags of tree seeds and now need to find a place to grow them into seedlings and then my plan is give every member of our staff 2 seedlings and a bag of manure (from our dry composter loos on the islands!) and hopefully everyone will have two big trees soon. Maybe we need to do it every year so that when one is chopped for firewood there is another to take its place. I am also not buying any ebony for our shop or for myself as ebony trees take 30 years to mature and there are almost none left. Our carver, James, says that in two years they will all be cut. So he and I have started to use Mtumbu, the 'fence post tree' for carvings and, though it is not as hard, it has a beautiful grain and is good for carvings.
Today in Cape Town in the Noordhoek Country Fair, where, 3 years ago, my stylish friend Belinda and I had our first second-hand clothes stall. I am so sad to be missing it. B is selling my Monkey Bay treasures for me, but I so wish I could be there too - we had such fun doing it and meeting all those women who went off happy with our finds.

The Heat!

Hello dears
I am not sure you realise what I mean when I say it is hot here: it is so hot the air feels as if it is blowing out of a red-hot heater. The sun feels as if it will give you third degree burns and it never cools down, even at night. We have cold showers throughout the day and the kids swim, even though there are biting things (invisible and unidentifiable) that leave them covered in red bites. I am in love with my little white fan - it is my most precious possession. I carry it into my office and blow it straight onto me at the desk, and I carry it back to our room at night and point it right over me, under the net. It has saved my life. But today the water pump has broken and there are no cold showers to be had. Will have to go to the pool at the lodge down the beach for a swim when the last guests have left after 3.
I don't usually go anywhere, because that would mean going out of this shady property into that dusty heat glare out there. But naturally I made an exception for the Monkey Bay market and went, alone, in the heat of the midday sun. I felt faint and when I saw myself after two hours of trawling the piles, in the mirror at the loo at the petrol station, I was a vile shade of puce. It was rather shattering! I splashed water all over me and emerged looking as if I had tried to drown myself under the tap. The Malawian attendants, with their usual impeccable politeness, merely smiled cheerily and said "you are most welcome" when I staggered out and thanked them from the bottom of my boiled heart.
(Unbelievably, I shopped in that heat for winter clothes for the Cape winter next year. I bought fleece pants and jackets and jerseys - I was a hero in my own bizarre tale.)
Not much going on here in the heat... Ed got a fever for 24 hours and we treated him for malaria but I don't think it was - Malawians all just nod sagely when anyone sickens at this time of year and say "it happens now. It is the lake." The mangoes are ripening slowly and we drink may many glasses of water all day.
We are heading off to the tea estate under Mulanje mountain in the beginning of November - it has an enormous plantation house, sleeps 10 and has huge shady trees and a lawn and a swimming pool! There are also all sorts of mountain streams to swim in. Can't wait. Have even booked for the factory tour (being a tea head, I think it is a necessary pilgrimage.) (Google Lujeri Lodge and then go green.)
Both islands are full now, but are empty for the few days we go away. Malawi has been full of young Poms who came for the Lake of Stars music festival - colonisers. They irritated us with their arrogance - sending beach boys to fetch kayaks for them with vague promises to pay when they returned and infesting our jetty and generally behaving as if Malawi never got its independence 50 years ago and this was their own personal playground replete with cheerful slaves - but perhaps that was just the thoughtlessness of youth interpreted by the cynicism of age (made worse by the irritation of intense heat) - drink more iced water, dear...
Everyone who comes through here gets all misty eyed telling me what an ideal environment this is for kids. It is and it isn't. It's hard for them - the lake makes them itch and there's nowhere to go to get out except for two places - Gecko Lounge for and ice cream, and Cap Mac Lodge for a swimming pool. That's it for outings, and they only happen once a week as the grownups are all working the rest of the time. It is quite a limited life compared with life in town, where you see many other kids and play at each others' houses and go out to see things like the harbour and the shops and various play parks and whatnot. Buj and Javi at least have a wider circle of friends because they speak Chichewa and have grown up here, but my chaps are pretty isolated with only Buj and Javi to play with. So it's very safe and there's the lake and it's a great experience, but they really want to go home. They remember everything about it - every place they went to, every toy that is waiting for them. Still,, they'll miss it all when they leave.So the plan is to always come back for a month or two during the Cape Winter - and maybe every second year to do Christmas here too (and if we can persuade family and friends to visit us then that would be heaven!)
Must go now - hear the boat chugging towards us full of guests coming off and others are on their way here. The dads are taking the kids to swim in the pool and I'll join them there later. (Damn the pump!)

Baby Jane and Edward Scissorhands

Think it's been a while since I last wrote and then it was a bit of a whine, I fear.
Have got over that negative patch and am merrily settled down to the daily business of life here in the tropics. It is fiendishly hot these days and we have cold showers before bed and then sleep with fans blowing all night. But the upside is that all the trees are putting out bright green leaves as if in anticipation of the rain coming in December - even though there is not a sniff of it yet. Even the baobab at the back fence is beginning to sprout.
I was very honoured yesterday to name the new baby daughter of Edward (our head guide) and his wife Mable (our laundry lady). I was taken by surprise so I suggested my mum's name, Claire. But Malawians can't say i's so it was Crare and they looked disconcerted at that, so I suggested my granny's name Patricia, which was also difficult to pronounce and the baby nearby had the name already so they waited expectantly for another. So I suggested Jane, a name I have always loved for its simplicity, and because of my dear friend of the same name. They loved it too, so this afternoon at 3pm I am off to their house again to eat a meal in celebration of Jane. She'll be known as Jani though, as everything in Malawi ends in "i". (Remember the shopping list? Ben is a scream - he speaks his version of Chitchewa where he just speaks English and adds "i" onto everything!)
(An aside: there are very interesting names here - you know about Lyoness already, but some of my personal faves are Godafoloy (Godfrey) and Cleartone (known as Creaton).)
The boatmen are picking tamarind pods off our big tree in front of our office - it's interesting to eat - you eat the inner soft part of the pod - very spicy. They make a drink out of it here by mixing it with lots of sugar and water. And the kids are jumping on the trampoline which Franklyn is sitting on having a chat with other staff.
A very sad thing happened - our guide Foster's wife was expecting a baby which just wouldn't arrive. She was in the monkey Bay hospital and they let her get to 10 months, and of course it was then stillborn. Horrible. Would never have happened in the first world. People get so used to tragedy here. Staff leave for funerals every second day. But are back and cheerful within a few days. I suppose you get tough.
I won't bore you with another shopping saga - suffice it to say Pam and I did the Lilongwe big city jaunt last week and have returned with souls refreshed by cappuccino, home-made gelati and tortellini - and of course adorned with 30 more magnificent chitenjes from the Tanzanian ladies. (There was a leper there - a man covered in seeping sores who was yelled at by the ladies until he shuffled off - another third world vision!)
And I finally made it to the Monkey Bay market again yesterday. There is always a treat there. I was running short of bras (here bras are made of scratchy nylon with no underwire (necessary post-babes!) according to a pattern last revamped in 1955 - all pointy and Madonna circa 1984!). And blow me right over, but there was a pile of the most gorgeous la Senza bras, brand new, albeit a bit dusty, in exactly my size, in all the colours of the rainbow. I now own 10 - in every shade from orange, through the pinks, to lime green and turquoise and maroon. The joy! They cost the equivalent of less than $1 each. Also bought many boy's clothes, Gap and Oshkosh and whatnot - Ben and Eddie don;t own a new garment amongst them these days and are the best dressed kids in Cape Town (well, I think so - love a bargain!) Bush also owns many loud patterned shirts which he wears with his own inimitable flair and ubiquitous grey board shorts. I also dress Jurie (checked shirts and t-shirts), Buji (superhero things) and Java (anything pink!) (And shared the bra harvest with Gloria in the laundry who had requested help in that area.)
We just had a momentous occasion! A gal in the village had friends to stay - a gay couple, one of whom was a hairdresser. In exchange for a night on Domwe, he cut my, Bush's, Ben's, Eddie's, Jurie's, Buji's, Javi's, Pam's and Lucy's hair! Oh the thrill! We all look very smart. Poor guy must have been finished after that, but he was Edward Scissorhands and did us all with a smile!
Must go now - doing hostess duty on Mumbo tonight - kids will join me tomorrow - short staffed as everyone is off to music fest (not doing stall - long story...)

the strangeness of life

Life in the tropics is getting strange sometimes. Feel very disconnected from my old life in Kommetjie and yet not a part of this one here in many ways. I love working for Kayak Africa and seeing things change and move forward and being a part of it all - it is a great business and the staff are a pleasure and the islands are magnificent and the guest are always happy. We have just won an award from the Department of Tourism here as the most environmentally friendly camp in the country, so that was nice. I was interviewed on the radio when the journos came (as Bush and Jurie were away watching rugby!) - never heard it though, nor did anyone who knows me (probably a good thing) - perhaps it wasn't ever aired! We are also on the Times (of London)'s list of the top 24 green places in the world to visit in their Green Spaces Awards. The judge is coming to see us on Nov 10. So we are really doing well these days. Working life is good - it is just the lack of personal life - friends and family and like-minded people - that is a problem.
I have very little else to occupy my thoughts apart from my motherly concerns - copious guilt as ever about not being the mother of the margarine ads - in fact, not even bearing the faintest resemblance to that paragon who laughs and tosses her immaculate hair and rushes about playing lovely outdoor games with her gorgeous clean offspring whilst cheerfully holding hands with her admiring hubby - all this in sparkling white jeans...could throttle the woman!
Instead I sit sweatily in my kitchen office, in increasingly bizarre chitenje ensembles, grey locks all out of style and unkempt (no haircutters in this village!), trying to keep up with emails and little odd jobs and staff requests for cash and 3 million requests from four demanding children to draw boats and pour juice and hand out junk food and then to separate them when they have their hair-raising brawls with much screeching and yelling (them not me!). It all get wearying.
And then, much as I love my dear husband, he is not the chattiest of personas and is usually as exhausted as I am by the end of the day and then we need to do the suicide hour of bathing four children, after which we collapse in our respective hammocks and exchange a few ideas (usually about work) and then I skulk off to bed to read or watch a dodgy DVD (old sex in the city mini-series at the moment - a girl takes what she can get out here - and I find I am actually enjoying them!) Thank heavens for Pam on the island and Lucy in the office here who are gals after my own heart - if they weren't about I think I'd never be able to vent.
Tonight is the opening of a new bar - oh whoopee doopee. Have to go otherwise it will be considered a slight. So will trawl along after kids are asleep and do what is known in these parts as a "French exit" - a quiet, un-noticed slope off home... even Bush is already planning it as he and Jurie are setting off to watch the rugby - a double header - and he knows that that will be about all the beer he'll be able to take!
Looking forward to coming home now, but can't allow myself to think like that, must live every day properly here and come home triumphant!
Must go now - think I have been garbled.