Visiting an African Hut (4)

Depending on what part of the world you are in you are going to understand the terms “garden” and “orchard” very differently. If you come from western, developed nations you probably contemplate long rows of corn, tomatoes, green beans, and other vegetables as a “garden”. An “orchard” to most from the west will bring the vision of long rows of fruit trees; apple, peach, and perhaps pear trees in full bloom or heavy with fruit. But this is not the way it is in Malawi, or in most other developing nations. An orchard may be a single tree, and a garden may contain only one of two rows of maize corn, and a few, very few, vegetable plants. Understanding this will help you not to be too surprised as we continue our tour of the outside of the house.

Cleaning and Drying Maize

 Leaving the makeshift cooking area, and bathing tub, we go around the corner of the hut toward the north. In just a few steps we come upon one of the grandchildren using a sifter to clean the maize being dried on a bamboo mat on the ground. The grain is tossed in the air, and then caught in the sifter. As it goes up and comes down the slight breeze caused the chaff to drift away. Another of the grandchildren is down on hands and knees picking foreign elements out of the maize power drying in the sun. As we watch the kids cleaning the grain the old grandmother picks up one of the sifting devices and shows us how she has used this for so many years as she prepared thousands of meals for her children and grandchildren. The method is the same as it has been for hundreds of years and she has become very proficient in its use.

Orchard

Beside us is the orchard. It is composed of one banana tree near the north side of the house. A number of ripening bananas hang down in front of us, and the fruit tempts us to reach up just this once and bring down one of the small tasty morsels. Then, thinking better of it, and realizing this is a precious small amount of fruit for such a large family we turn our attention to a small building sitting out and away from the main house (hut). 

Outdoor "Rain" Kitchen

This one we might call the “rain kitchen”. It is a small mud hut structure where the grandmother has cooked meals for longer than she can remember. The fire is built near the center of the room when the heavy rains come so the rain does not put out the wood fire before the meal can be prepared. Again, the grandmother wants to demonstrate for us. She goes inside where a small fire is already burning and she demonstrates how she prepares a pot of beans on this makeshift stove. Before long the smoke becomes so dense it is almost impossible to film. We have to move outside and look in from the doorway. She just sits there smoke an all, stirring the beans until they are done. One has to wonder how she still has her eyesight, and her lungs must be grey from all of the cooking fires she has endured inside this small hut.

 Garden

We walk next to the east side of the house where a small patch of weeds seems to be off limits to any trimming. Suddenly we realize we are looking down into the garden, small as it is. One has to wonder how in the world this family can raise enough food in this small space to survive. But, it seems rude to ask, so the question goes unanswered as we peer down into the pitifully few vegetables, and broken corn stocks that represent a garden in the third world.

Next: Boy faces goat in a confrontation as to who will keep the maize.

Visiting An African Hut (3)

I stepped outside the back of the darkened hut, and was greeted by the blinding African sun. After the darkness inside it took several minutes for my eyes to adjust to the light. I wondered what it would be like to spend much of my life in such a darkened environment. Also, I considered if the house were to catch fire would everyone get out alive? The dry thatch roof material would burn quickly, and there is no fire truck and no fire protection available. There is no water near her house, and nothing to impede the progress of the flames.

Outside we looked at the round, bamboo grain storage bin. It was over half empty, and obvious that the family would be rationing their food; if they were not already. It is eight months to harvest, and last year’s rains were not conductive to good crops. The old lady has no savings, and no food reserve, except for what is in the maize bin, and a 25-lb., half-filled bag of potatoes suspended from the living room ceiling to keep them away from the mice. We knew none of her neighbors had much more than she, so there would be little help available from them if she ran out. Neither did the government have much in the way of food reserves, and even less in the way of money to expend to feed the poor. There are just too many; and when food shortages come, starvation will not be far behind. As our eyes grew more accustomed to the light I looked at her intently. How many famines had she experienced in her life? When will her aged eyes see the next one? This year? Next? Or ten years down the road? The next one will be far too soon for her weakened body to withstand, and with so many children to care for, she and they, are far too vulnerable to any problems that come along.

 I stood for several minutes before we continued the tour. The view of such a disparity flooded over me, like a heavy, drenching rain coming in off the Indian Ocean. Near the backdoor of the hut was a large tub; the bathtub for the entire family, and just a few feet away was a kitchen. It was composed of several long sticks of firewood, and two blackened bowls. Nearby sat two old buckets, one partially filled with water, and the other sitting on the fire. How could I explain this back home? Words won’t do it. Words are understood within the framework of one’s life experience, and culture. Poverty in America is far different from poverty in Africa where even a glass of cold water is a rich man’s commodity.

Next time – The garden and family orchard

That is Close Enough

 "At a time like this one has to be glad to be safely in a boat, with a wise and prudent guide. If we were on land we would be in a bit of trouble getting this close to the elephant herd. But when on water, with them on the land, they are not as fearful of us ... and neither are we of them (I think). It is morning in Liwonde National Park in Southeastern Malawi, and we are on boat safari on the Shire River. This is the same river David Livingstone traveled on his quest to explore the interior of Africa over a hundred years ago."

Relax at Lujeri Tea Estate

Our trip is a two-day get away in southern Malawi. We have learned about a quaint, quiet, and scenic place that is just the setting where we can recover our strength after a case of malaria. Our destination is nestled on the beautiful slopes of Mulanje Massif, a 9,842-foot (3002 meter) peak, and 13 x 16 mile (22 x 26 kilometers) circumstance. From nearly level plains this majestic Isenberg leaps up out of the earth. Just the description made us want to visit. It’s isolation and beauty is going to give us time to rest, recover and plan for the next few weeks. It is not what many people do who come to the magnificent Massif. Hiking and camping probably take precedence over resting, relaxing and sleeping. But to each his own, right? Our destination is the Lujeri Tea Estate, and we have heard the elegance will remind us of a past era that we can only read.

        Lujeri is approximately 120 kilometers, or 74 miles, south of Blantyre, the commercial hub of the nation. From Blantyre the road is tarmac and easy. M-4 is relatively new, and we follow it to its end at the junction of M-2. The Marif looks at us from high above. As the clouds complete their trip across the top of the Marif, they come to the edge, then roll and tumble down the side as though they are riding a long, sloping slide to the bottom. The mountain fills the windshield of our approaching vehicle, all the way across, and from top to bottom. The view of the mountain seems to flow over the landscape in a cascade of green that is as breathtaking as we could have imagined.

           It is late morning as we pass the small trading center of Mulanje. There are the three of us, Suzi, Elias Mwale and myself. This is Elias’ first trip ever to Lujeri, even though he has heard of it all of his life. He is from the central region of Malawi, and most Malawians seldom have the opportunity to see the beauty of their land. This is a sad commentary that lives with the poor. Walking is their only means of transportation. It is also the first trip for my wife and myself.                                                                       

After passing the Mulanje Trading Center we come to the sign pointing the way. The excitement begins to build. At every curve we can see the mountain, and it continues to loom higher and higher in our view. On both sides of us are the tea fields, and the homes of the workers. Suddenly we comer around a curve and arrive at the sign pointing to Lujeri. We are staying in the main house, and it is a striking site as it lounges casually on the side of the mountain. As the dominate manor of the plantation it has a commanding position overlooking the tea estate, as well as a clear view of three other houses positioned on distant ridges, where the previous managers once lived.

There is just the three of us, but we have two housemen, and a maid hosting us. They will be taking care of our every whim. It is such a surprise for Elias, since his entire life has been filled with serving, but never being served. For the next two days he will learn what it is like to have someone serve him. Suzi and I are both recovering from a bout of malaria, so the time to relax will be great for us as well. The bedrooms, living room, and wrap around veranda are fit for a king, or queen.

Because of the distance we have traveled, we decide to just stay close to the house for the afternoon. We’ll rest, and just absorb the splendor around us. It is hard to imagine this scene sits in a land of such poverty, and pain. Just over the mountain there are mud-hut villages as far as one can see. But here, on the former plantation, there is little evidence of the deficiencies that exist in every village and trading center for hundreds of miles in every direction.

  

       After lunch it is time to read a paper, explore the rest of the house, and then go outside for a dip in the pool. 


            We spend the rest of the day just getting in touch with this wonderland, relaxing, and watching the sun paint it’s ever lengthening shadows along, and down the east side of the mountain. Every few minutes the growing shadows and dwindling sunlight combine their resources to paint an entirely different scene. All too soon the afternoon passes, dinner is served, then a relaxing, roaring fire in the fireplace, and finally a good nights rest.

After breakfast the following morning Elias and I decide it is time to explore the estate. We take the camera and follow the winding road down, and down, until we are immersed in the green leaves of the rows and rows of tea. We spend time just admiring the scene in front of us, while at the same time talking with some of the workers coming up the side of the mountain with baskets of ripened leaves. Suzi remains behind and tries out the veranda … napping!

The road winds ever lower into the valley beside the mountain, and soon the house disappears somewhere behind us. The sound of water in the distance grows in our senses and Elias and I make our way to the nearby river. It is happily splashing and tumbling along the valley floor. The scene is breathtaking and quickly immerses the visitor in the splendor of the mountain, accented by the blue sky, white clouds, and the vivid green of the tea plants. It overwhelms the senses. Even as I snap pictures I know there is no way this scene will ever be taken into custody. It is just too immense, too complex, too complete, and too beautiful. No camera can ever catch its full enormity.

Near dusk Elias and I make our way back to the main house where the staff has the evening meal prepared.                                                                                                                                             

As the sun disappears behind the mountain, a member of the staff brings in a bundle of logs, and a roaring fire springs to life in the fireplace. A wonderful meal awaits us in the dining room nearby, and we settle in for the meal and the small talk that accompanies it. After a fine dinner, we sit in front of the fireplace until the flames begin to look for a place to sleep. It is the signal for us to settle into our rooms for the night. It has been a good day, and we still have part of another day to enjoy before we head back to our work responsibilities. It is certainly what the doctor would have ordered had he known about this place. Already, the pressure and stress of our work has been lifted from our shoulders and we are in touch with the sounds of the night as we lay there listening to the quiet hum of the tiny insects that hover near our screened window. The non-threatening rhythmic sounds lull us to sleep within minutes.

Additional pictures from Lujeri may be found at:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/malawiproject

For more information about the Malawi Project:

www.malawiproject.org

Adventure of Buying Car Parts

The Adventure of Buying Car Parts

Making even simple purchases in this part of Africa are often a near death experience. What we mean by this is that after going from place to place to place you are dying to find the item, yet it often remains so elusively you will age immeasurably before you find it, if you find it. To ever go into the first store that seems it would have your item and actually find the item is improbable or often impossible. If your list is too long you may actually grow old and die before you find the shop that carries that particular item. Even if you want to buy things that are used all the time by the local people, the experience can still be a harrowing encounter. Take the trip we recently made so we could purchase an oil filer, air filter, some motor oil, and springs for a very popular vehicle in this part of the world. Experience has taught us that these trips usually take much longer than expected, much longer! The stores are often out of the very item you are greatest in need of purchasing. In recent weeks we have found the stores out of prepaid telephone cards, diet coke, diesel fuel, sugar, milk, and various other commodities that a person from the west cannot imagine a major city running out of. One has to wonder who the purchasing person is that is asleep at the wheel so often as to allow this to happen repeatedly.  

Concern Causes Us To Leave Early 

Because of our concern over the possibility of having trouble finding one or more of the items we decide to go to town early, so we can be there the minute the stores open. It is Saturday, and the stores close at noon, so we do not have a minute to waste. We have very little fear about finding the popular oil filter, the air filter, or the oil. It is the rear springs that we have some concern that we might have to check with more than one location before we find them. And so, with some trepidation we gird ourselves for the expedition and head out on another of our travels in the “warm heart of Africa”. In this case we are on the way into the capital city of Lilongwe, population 700,000, so we ca make a few simple car maintenance purchases. What can be so hard with this?

       The dashboard clock indicates it is 8:20 AM. Remember, the purchase list only includes an oil filter, air filter, several quarts of oil, and a set of springs for the rear of a very popular model in this part of the world. Lilongwe is the biggest city of the nation and the capital. If we were home in America this would be about a 20-minute project at a single car parts store, or car dealership.

A Traditional African Trading Center

       By 9 AM we are inching our way through the bumper-to-bumper, person-to-person, traffic in the oldest portion of Lilongwe. Our first stop is “the most reliable shop” in the oldest portion of Old Town. Before we get out of the car let me tell you about Old Town. This is the part of the city that was here before Lilongwe became the capital of Malawi. In fact Old Town was here before Malawi became a country. 

     For many years Lilongwe was Malawi’s second largest city, always trailing the commercial center of Blantyre in the southern part of the nation. But in the past 40 years the population of the capital city has literally “exploded”. In 1977 it was at 98,718, by 1987 it reached 223,318. In 1998 it had nearly doubled to 435,964. In 2008 the figure had nearly doubled again to 866,272, and a year later, in 2009 it was up to 902,388.

Old Town is Really Old

          Today, in Old Town, a sea of street vendors outnumber the stores, and the store fronts are nearly hidden by mop venders, guys carrying car parts (including bumpers) and various other items they are sure you want to buy. All are moving beside and in the street trying to find a buyer (maybe before the owner finds them. There are hub-cap vendors, tomato and carrot vendors, and all other types of commodities including cell phones, cell phone chargers, and a large number hacking cell phone cars that may or may not work when you try to put the time in your unit. Just to be on the safe side I snap the lock on the door and smile back at a guy standing very close to the window smiling in at me. After traveling through the virtual sea of humanity that is milling about the street we reach the most reliable shop, Ngoni Shop # 2. With that name, and since the Ngoni tribe has traditionally been the warrior nation, I wonder if there is a group of warriors inside waiting for the first unsuspecting arrival of the morning. Our mechanic disappears inside to explain our needs; one oil filter, one air filter, several quarts of oil, and the springs for the back of the vehicle. He is gone for some time, and when he exits the store, instead of coming back to the vehicle; he turns to the right and disappears from view toward a second set of shops. It either means he is deserting me, or he has not found what he is looking for in the first shop. I decide in my mind to vote for the later. Probably it is the springs that he cannot find, I decide. In a little while he comes back with success … he has found the air filter. We move our vehicle down the crowded street to a second set of stores. Again, the mechanic disappears inside a dingy looking storefront. I check the lock on the driver side of the vehicle. Secure. Good. We are in the center of the open-air market area, and somehow the crowds have intensified. That is hard to imagine since there were already packed in so tight no one could move faster than the pace of the crowd. Opening the door of a vehicle is now a more pronounced challenge, and to drive through the area will put every door that is opening on both sides of you in serious jeopardy of being torn off in the far too narrow street. 

         While waiting for the driver to return from his scouting trip I scan the crowd. Gaining the eye of a street vendor I extend a request for a copy of “The Nation” newspaper. I carefully hand sixty Kwacha out the slightly cracked window. The exchange is made. Now I can settle in to get a handle on the news. Since I have only looked over three newspapers in the past three months it is strange the way the news still seems so familiar. Politicians are fighting over the budget. The highway department is closing two more roads for road repair. A trial is scheduled of a politician who is being accused of corruption. The local sports team has lost a recent international soccer contest. A water shortage has occurred in two of the trading centers north of us. On the international scene the Middle East is still in turmoil. North Korea is threatened to shoot off more test missiles. Two North African nations are suffering a several famine. The news is the news, is the news. I finish the newspaper from front to back, and then lean back in my seat to watch the various pedestrians moving soundlessly past the front of the car. An occasional horn reminds me of the vast traffic jam that is clambering past the vehicle behind me, while trying to find its way out of the maze called a street.

Mechanic Going from Store to Store

        Behind me and to the left our mechanic is going from store to store looking for the parts. He returns to the car to announce the need for a new location. We are up to 20 stores, and to almost no avail. However, I have caught up with all of the news of the world, and I can also tell anyone where this guy was born, as well as the name of his prospective wife, and a host of other details about him and the part of town we are traveling through.

Try the Expensive Side of Town

          By this time we give up and head back over to the “most expensive” side of town in order to get the parts. Back on the “expensive” side, the place our mechanic avoids like the plague because of its prices we start a systematic search for the parts. No luck. 

          The time is now up to 12:05 and it is too late to attempt to find another store that might have our parts. We have been successful in the purchase of an oil filter. No success on any of the other items. Before leaving this part of town we are able to stop at a Petro station and obtain the oil, but nothing else. 

           We head back. We’ve spent the entire morning and have found just one oil filter and several quarts of oil. All in all though, it has been a rather good time. We did find one of the items we need. We’ll go back on Monday morning and canvass some more of the stores. We’ve said it before, and we will probably say it time and again, “That’s Malawi.”