KanganKunde (not that radioactive, honestly)

Post whisky early start for our Society of Malawi day trip was not fun, but the day itself was. A bunch of us had been invited by Tony Patel, the willowy, beyond eccentric, owner of a mineral mine 1.5 hrs north of Blantyre, for a visit.

We thought it may be a gold mine, but apparently that is further up the Rift Valley. Instead we've learnt all about the unusual properties of this carbonated volcanic plug and the uses of the very highly concentrated Monazite found in the hill (this particular form is pistachio green, not yellow – so there you go.) Optical fibres, paints, car exhausts, glass and control rods for nuclear reactors, this is valuable stuff. But the (lack of) planned, rational, exploitation of it seems to be a tale of woe.

The Australians have started mining uranium in the north of Malawi (Karonga, where we're headed next week, for unrelated reasons). Rubies and sapphires are being sporadically mined in the near by hills and apparently its possible to 'collect' Zircons from the top of another mountain range. There is probably oil in the bottom of the lake and diamonds are not unlikely. But none of these seem to be on the scale to make commercial exploitation truly viable and, unsurprisingly I suppose, mineral exploitation is very very political.

So Mr. Patel continues to sit on his terrace, wrangling to Escom to get proper power supplied, and treating occasional visitors like us with excellent hospitality, whilst staring back at his hill full of radioactive treasure.

F x

Oh Caledonia

Turns out there is a Caledonia society here in Blantyre & we were invited along to its whisky tasting evening on Friday. Unlike my ex-pat relatives I was never really that into Braveheart, shortbread and 'I belong to Glasgow' (though I like to think that I do). Now, I LOVE IT. Absence genuinely does make the heart grow fonder, even A is beginning to acknowledge that Scotland “sometimes, in someways, might be alright”.

Sob, Scotland is brilliant, sniff.

The evening was so well done. Tracing the route through the Jacobite rebellion we tried 11 different whiskys. It was in Ryalls, the big posh hotel, and we could have been in the Thistle or the Hilton or any of the places we've been to graduation balls and weddings at home. There were about 50 people there and I only met 7 Scots - I take that as evidence that Scotland is, in actual fact, brilliant and everyone wants a piece (or at least to be invited along to the party).

At first we dutifully filled in our scoring charts, measuring colour (towards amber or straw?), nose before and after dilution (smoky, spicy, caramelly, and peaty were always safe bets) and then the taste. Before long this had descended into a series of ticks and smiley faces and I decided that Talisker is the malt for when you've had bad news, Macallan was probably the best, Glenmorangie reminded me of my Grandfather and Glengoyne, well, it was an outright winner for me.

Controversially they also had Jack Daniels, but that was towards the end of the evening and we had to give the American guests something (a bottle of coke to make it palatable). Brilliant evening, let's see how long we can resist being co-opted onto the committee and having to sort out St. Andrew's Day.

F x
PS – We observed an uncanny correlation between the Jacobite army's stop overs at some of the better distilleries and absolute gubbings by the English.

Jeremy Clarkson Would Have a Field-Day

So, I'm told that Malawians think that we talk funny. All nasally and honky, like the way Americans sound to us. A few times I've had young boys follow me down the street saying 'hiiii' (imagine saying it really high pitched and through your nose). This has made me really self concious and now catch myself saying 'hi' to friends, then try and change my tack to a deep, 'hello' (which just sounds a bit creepy so I have to stop).

This is the only insight I have managed to obtain into what Malawians think of us. If there is a wider sterotype (and I'm sure there must be) everyone is too polite to say anything. I have, however, learnt that Malawians from the south think those from the north are all into witchcraft and those in the north think people in the south are totally greedy and out for themselves. Everyone thinks that those in the middle are kind of gross and will eat anything that stays still for long enough – something to which the mouse kebabs on sale by the road would seem to bear witness. I've also learnt that Tanzanians are reputed to be very aggressive and Zimbabweans very resiliant (!).

All this made me think of Jeremy Clarkson and the classic sterotypes we Europeans apply to each other. But then it also made me think of what I've heard some of the westerners here say about Malawians. There is often an assumption that anything done by a westerner will automatically be better and that, somehow, we need to 'teach' them how to be efficient.

Hummm....I don't know. It is true that English documents will, generally, be better written by a westerner, but that is obvious. I wonder whether its more the case that our notions of efficiency don't quite fit here. For example, Phiri hasn't been using his bike for work much lately. He also hasn't been well and has been leaving for home earlier and earlier. Now, he seems to be responsible for many people, not just his family. So perhaps it is more efficient for him to lend his bike to his neighbour's cousin and take longer to walk to / from work than it is to get to work quicker but leave the bike unused all day. Or, perhaps he is renting the bike out and using the money to get the bus to work, which would be a very western use of capital as far as I can see.

I don't know. There is an inordinate amount of signing and stamping and giving receipts in triplicate. But then, there are no call centres. There's something to celebrate.

F x

Wake Up Africa

Every morning we listen to the World Service (well, we listen to it all the time really) but the breakfast show we get is called “Wake up Africa” - it's broadcast from London at 4.30 GMT and is genius.

Everyday people text in with African 'wise words', little bon mots to start the day. I love them. Here are some of my favourites:

“The monkey that would see the hunter's face will get a bullet in the eye”

“If you want a hen's attention, go for the chicks”

“The contents of a frog's belly belong to the snake that ate the frog”

“The bird that flew to the ant hill was still on the ground”

“Facing something won't always solve it, but nothing can be solved without first being faced”

“If you claim to be an elephant, make sure you don't get caught in a rat trap”

Trying to think of which British sayings to text in....

F x

Global Swapsies

So Mum and Jennie have gone home, holidays are over. It was pure, dead, BRILLIANT, to hang around with them for 10 days. I think they really enjoyed seeing it all and, strangely, things seem more normal and familiar now that they have been here. We had a total laugh, especially when someone saw Mum in one of the big Mary's Meals 4x4s and shouted 'Madonnna!' - she was well chuffed.

Disappointingly we didn't manage to hunt down any Chibuku, the local mead-like drink that Jennie became kinda' obsessed about. We did manage to get her nicely addicted to cheesy puffs (a cross between wotsits and monster munch) and think that A should start trying to get them exported to Scotland. We also hit upon the idea that Malawians, with their v v sweet tooths, would LOVE Irn Bru and Highland Toffee, so we should try and get some of that sold over here. However the master stroke would have to be if we got Malawian gin, which you can buy in 30ml sachets here (a genius idea), available alongside the salt, sauce & ketchup in Scottish chip shops and pakora bars. Excellent.

When dropping them at the airport I managed to stop blubbing in time to greet Enrico, a Swiss guy who is going to intern with Mary's Meals for three months. We've been showing him around a bit this weekend and whilst visiting the rocket stove stall at the national trade fair (they are the wood fired stove things that MM give to the schools to make the porridge) decided that the stoves would, in fact, be perfect for a massive fondue. So we might work on getting Enrico to try and sell them in Switzerland.

A's been working very hard recently and we both went to welcome the gang of 6th formers from Holyrood School in the south side of Glasgow who've just arrived to help build some classrooms at Mary's Meals schools (about 25 of them with Scotland / Malawi flags and posters hanging off their minibuses). We've known their teacher, Tony Begley, for a while. A brilliant guy. I've offered my services and only hope I can be of some use to them all at some point.

But unexpectedly last night we ended up at Malawi's (only?) casino. Unlike the (mostly Chinese and Indian) clientèle, I didn't have a clue and stood around trying to understand as our American friends explained how to play poker (and how what they were playing there wasn't really poker at all). Enrico (whose first degree is in Maths) tried to explain the probabilities on the roulette table to me, still over my head. I liked the spinny wheel thing tho and we couldn't leave without some kind of promise that we would visit the 'authentic' Chinese restaurant. I'm all for good things but I'm not sure about actually eating muts nuts (even if they are deliciously flavoured with ginger and soy).

It really was our first proper night out in ages and was made all the more so when Enrico found he'd been locked out of his guest house so in the middle of the night we had to wake our guards to let him in and fashion a bed with the sofa cushions and a spare mossie net suspended from the light fitting. We've had a lot of fun & A says this is like being back at international school – certainly been a week for 'cultural' exchanges.

Chicken, roast potatoes and peas for tea tonight tho, don't want to take it too far...
F x

Ps – When we were tracking the elephants on safari our guide, McCloud, said that the problem with elephants was that they were too 'movious' - ;-)

Jennie's Blog (part 3)

Our next stop was to a guest house called Norman Carr Cottage on the massive Malawi Lake. Here we went on daily ‘booze cruises’ with the 2 owners Jenny and Taffy. Who we decided were like South African versions of Auntie Lizzie and Uncle Bertie. They were very accommodating, and even cut a booze cruise short when I realised I‘d drunken too much beer and needed the loo (urgently). They took us fish eagle spotting and got one of their workers to blow into the fish bait mouths in order that they’d stay afloat for longer.

The food was amazing - I had my first taste of both Chambo and Ox-tail. Both equally as tasty. Andrew and Fiona got into a heated debated with 2 young south African boys about everything political, and mum taught us all how to play Wist.

On the way back from the lake holiday we stopped off at a Dedza pottery place - mum and fiona got that content in awe look that they get when looking at Anta pottery and many matching plates and mugs were bought.

Instead of going back to the Dude Hut we made our way to Fi and Andrew’s friends house (they were away on holiday and had kindly let us stay). This is where I’m writing this from now. The house is positioned high up on the hill of a gated community in Blantyre, we can hear all the hustle and bustle and singing of the streets but the scenery around is all lovely hills and blue skies.

It’s hard to describe without sounding all smug and bragging, but it’s beautiful! And huge! We have been given a silver bell to call for the house staff. Which we say we feel uncomfortable using but do anyway. The beastie count here is quite high though and we had to remove a millipede (or evillipede as we’ve renamed them) from the bedroom at night. The food, yet again is delicious and we are slightly worried that Joseph and Peter- the people who work in the house - think all we do is eat, sun ourselves, eat a bit more, sun ourselves, drink, eat, drink and eat a bit more. Which is actually pretty accurate. They have two lovely dogs called Mia and Florida. We’ve managed to twice lock Florida in the Dining Room then paniced that she’s run away.

We’ve visited the shops (5 hours to get a half weekly food shop!) which was very interesting. Came across the brilliantly named Hav-Some-More Biscuits and mum found Knorr White Onion Soup stock. Apparently it’s been discontinued in the UK, and her 7-up pot roasts have never tasted the same since. Needless to say she was very excited.

We still have 3 days left, and I’m looking forward to seeing more of Blantyre. We’re going for a curry tonight, then Andrew’s taking us around a Mary’s Meals school tomorrow, which I’m very excited about. Then we’re booked in for some beauty treatments - I’m getting a oxygenating facial and a back massage for £30. Bargain!

Anyway, I fear I’ve ‘blethered’.
Signing off,
Jennie.

Jennie's Blog (part 2)

Safari was AMAZING! A quick run-down of the animals we saw is as follows:

- Warthogs
- Hippos (at first I was really excited to see these but I quickly lost count of the anount we’d seen’
- Crocodiles
- Baboons
- Elephant
- Sivet

This is to name but a few. We also saw a huge number of weirdly named birds. Mum has become a full-on bird watcher now and has taken to reading an Encycolpeadia of birds as bed-time reading. Worrying! I even sacrificed a beloved lie-in to get up for the 5:30 am safari. It was worth it though. We were led by an armed guard around the bush. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it) we didn’t see any of the big scary animals, but did see marks in the sand where Hianas had been sleeping for the night. This was followed by a delicious breakfast where we had to guard our food from opportunistic monkeys trying to steal our muffins. One of the guides stood by with an empty hand held catapult which seemed to put the fear of god in them, and they quickly scarpered.

Our tour-guide was called McCloud and seemed to have an endless knowledge of every single animal and plant. He also knew about every star constellation, and drove us out to a clearing to go through a lot of them. We even spotted satellites moving across the sky.

The lodges were beautiful. We weren’t allowed to walk out of them by ourselves but were given a large drum to sound when we needed assistance. Luckily mum restrained herself from using it to order her G and T sundowners. The animals came up right to the outside of the front door. I was quite amused to discover a monkey swinging on the hammock, on it‘s back with it‘s legs in the air. Mum was less amused to discover a Hippo munching on the shrubbery next to the hut in the middle of the night.

Jennie's Blog (Part 1)

I have hijacked Fiona’s beloved blog account in order to tell you all about mine and mums Amazing African Adventure (so far). We have seen an astonishing amount of stuff, in mum’s words it’s been a bit of a ‘sensory overload‘. But most definitely a good one.
There’s an awful lot to say, and it’s difficult to know when to start…I suppose the airport is a good place. And so I’ll begin……

Mum and I managed to get lost at Johannesburg airport and so very nearly missed our connecting flight to Blantyre. Our rush-tness wasn’t helped by the fact my bag had to be searched as a sniffer dog got slightly too enthusiastic by it‘s somewhat distinctive smell. And no, it wasn’t due to any old mouldy food abandoned in a side pocket.

We were greeted at Malawi International Airport (don’t be deceived by the term International - it‘s small enough to fit in your hand luggage) by a balcony of people watching the runway. Apparently Saturday is a day for coming to spectate all the (two) planes flying on that day. In amongst the crowd there were 2 pairs of white hands waving frantically - Fiona and Andrew! Hooray!

The car journey to the house is a bit of a a blur, it was like someone had pressed the fast forward button there was so much to see and take in! Their ‘Dude Hut’ is very welcoming. Strangely enough reminds me a bit of their Glasgow flat. Bowls of nuts and clever-looking books dotted around the place are still a staple. But there are slightly more gecko’s.

I met Phiri, who talked about his bike (I think he’s well chuffed), and we had a delicious dinner with Davinia their next door neighbour.

The Centre of Blantyre is a hub of activity. Amusingly there is a Ned Bank - unfortunately not staffed by Buckfast swigging youths with tracksuit bottoms on. Spotting funny shop signs has been one of my favourite things to do. So far I’ve seen the ‘Slow But Steady General Store’. ‘The Chemicals and Seeds Shop’(?!) and the ‘Bling!Bling! Of Foods Store’.

Grasshopper Season

Its grasshopper season – there seem to be two types, brown and green and I don't know what the difference is (green one is probably male though). They don't bother me at all, occasionally a bit gross when you stand on one but I think it is them that make the calming crickety noise at night, so its all good with me.

Apparently they are tasty too. 'Land prawns' I'm told. No rush to find out but judging by the lengths people are going to get them, I think they must be. During the day people stop in the street for no apparent reason, bend down and pick something up, then pocket it - reckon they are nabbing grasshoppers.

At night the street up to the hut is one of the few places with street lights and there are crowds of children hanging round them, grabbing up the hoppers as they come to the light. They are so fixated on grabbing the hoppers they dash in front of our car to get the ones caught up in the headlights, they run alongside to pick up the ones we run over with our wheels! It's madness, it is so dangerous!

But their parents have no regard for traffic either – people cross the road wherever and whenever they want to - across the entrances to roundabouts on very busy roads, behind / in front of buses - vendors will run in front of traffic to sell samosas to bus passengers without thinking or looking twice! Old women, mothers with babies – the lot. I don't buy that people here in the city aren't 'used to' traffic, I think they just don't care that much or have some deep faith that the cars will stop. I also think there must be a rule somewhere that says people have right of way. We will actually be lucky if we don't hurt someone or get caught up in an accident caused by this craziness, grasshoppers or no.

F x

PS – Apparently there is also a flying ant season....someone told me to 'get your cook to fry them up with salt for your sundowners'! Erm, think I'll stick to peanuts.
F x

Evilipede

Photo will follow - blast slow internet in the afternoons. America, get offline! Obama did well in his big speech all you need to know....

Evilipedes

This happened a while ago, but people should know that such horrible things exist!

About two weeks after arriving I was sitting outside our front door, trying to relax and acclimatize to being in Africa, telling myself not to be a big girl about the creepy crawlies. Then I saw this long, licorice black millipede crawling about about 1/2m in front of me. It was heading for the front door and I took this as an opportunity to test my new resolve to not get upset by such things. I got a big stick and poked it until it turned around and started heading the other way.

Happy, I got my camera out and started taking shots – it was really deeply shiny and the millions of legs thrummed along in an amazing way. Not thinking A would believe I'd seen such a thing I got a pen and put it down next to it for scale.

Now, it turns out that these things are one of the most dangerous insects and can kill you (or at least put you in hospital for a good while) with one sting! We now call them evilipedes.
Seriously, how was I supposed to know that?! I know to keep away from snakes and spiders – but millipedes?! What is next, evil butterflies that will infect me with sars if I look at them too long? Man eating dragon flies that hide inside shoes and then chew your toes off when you're not paying attention?! (Neither of those things actually exist Jennie, its going to be fine).

I think I'm right to keep my guard up and my panga handy. Shoes on at all times and when not in use hung upside down on empty beer bottles. It seems to be the only way!

F x

A Woman's Work

Note to self: Don't blog drunk.
Blog deleted.
F