Blog 3

What is with all this interest? Now that a blog exists, I have to fill it? It used to be that I could disappear off into the sunset and write letters now and again that took weeks to arrive in Canada and that was enough. Now if I do not put something on the web every day, I am accused of negligence.

Lilongwe was quite a relief after the long trip. My 2 nieces, Sautso (Ruth’s daughter) and Undeni (Ethel’s) greeted me as I came out of arrivals. It was smooth sailing through immigration and customs. In the past, it used to be such a hassle. Thursday, it was as simple as “Where are you going? What are you bringing in?” and I was out in a jiffy to the waiting arms of the family who had arranged transport to town and accommodation.

My first 2 nights were at Dunstan & Edith Malithano’s Guest Lodge, named the Titanic Off-Shore Guest Lodge, where I recovered from my trip, got things organized and arranged my move to sister Ivy’s Ufulu Gardens. Both of these are upscale places catering to the international development consultant crowd. Gated plots with lush green interiors and flowers that Canadian gardeners would give their eye-teeth to grow. Courteous staff, cold beer…. ???? Does it get any closer to paradise? Hold on!! I have got to get out of here and get going on the projects I came for.

So that is what I did. On Saturday, Sautso, Undeni and I drove up to Makupo to see how things were going and found that everything is beautiful. The new well is an inauspicious apparatus and does not stand out as significant in the geography, but there were no end of thank yous for its existence. The renovations have been carried out and brother-in-law Jack has done exactly what it takes to make a comfortable lodging for our visitors. In fact, the kitchen store room area is too nice to cook in and people will henceforth sleep there. So we will build another kitchen custom designed with the cooks in mind.

Quick meetings were held with the women first and then the men to talk about tasks and roles but they were already organized before we got there. All the houses have been included in the work except for Mr Chikapa’s because of the recent loss of his wife, sister Ruth, and his disability since the stroke. He will still be a good resource person since he speaks such good English and loves to discuss things.

Sunday, the three of us drove to Mtenedere near the Mozambique border in Dedza district to visit Alice Trindade. She is the younger sister of Anna Maria Trindade-Bessette, our dear friend from Orford who died in February this year. I wanted to see Anna Maria’s mother who is now easily 90+ years old. She lives in Mozambique and Alice sent a bicycle taxi to pick her up from her lands the other side of the border and be there to meet us. I had collected pictures of the Bessette children and their families and from the funeral to show them and as is the tradition the Bessettes had sent some money and Nellie and I put in an amount. Pepani is what we say at the loss of a loved one and it was evident that Alice had lost someone she loved very dearly despite the many years of separation. She told how Anna Maria, as the oldest daughter had mothered all of them. That is how we all remember Anna – as the consummate mother.

Mtendere means peace in Chichewa and is a major mission station with two secondary schools, a novitiate, a clinic and of course a large catholic church. I had been there with my secondary school in 1969 travelling the back road from Mitundu/Bunda to play soccer against their side. The Trindade family has a sizeable piece of land dating back to colonial times when this was a largely empty space and land grants were happily given out to people willing to settle and open it to agriculture. It is clear that at some point there had been a major operation, but Alice found herself a widow and unable to keep her small estate up before her eldest son Brian came back from Blantyre to do what he could to keep it in the family. He has ambitious plans to raise pigs and orchard crops which are in big demand in the cities and despite missing city life looks like he can turn it into a productive enterprise again.

The trip was half of the experience. Travelling south from Lilongwe towards Dedza we were supposed to meet Alice’s son Andrew at Chimpiya, a small trading centre and bus stop. She had called me in the morning to tell me that he would be there and that I would recognize him because he is a “coloured boy” the term dating back to colonial times for people of mixed race. In addition, it turns out that the boy is 27 years old. He was sitting on a rise beside the road and did look different enough in appearance to make him stand out from the other Malawians.

The road deteriorated immediately that we turned of the M1, the main north south route. I was still driving city-stule and bottomed the car a couple of times on rocks before I slowed to a crawl. On such rough roads it is not a matter of left side drive or right side drive but best side drive and the approach of another vehicle requires careful positioning when there are so few good parts to pass on. Ten kilometers took almost an hour. That is why the bicycle taxi is so useful. In fact, Andrew had gone to the main road, leaving his place at 8:00 by bicycle taxi to wait for us by the main road. I kept a watchful eye out for rain clouds, because we would be staying at Mtendere if we the rains came. The night before on our return from Kasungu we found that Lilongwe had experienced torrential rains which had turned the township roads into slippery treacherous obstacle courses.

Up and down the country that has been the experience. The north south route is well maintained and heavily used, but any branch into the lesser traveled areas finds difficult roads made more problematic when the rains come. Over 70% of Malawi’s people live in the rural areas so anyone unfortunate enough to live any distance from a main road faces an extra burden of difficult transport. Even in the city, the roads from centre to centre are fine, but turn into one of the townships where the people live in their numbers and the roads turn into gullied and pitted challenges.

End of blog entry 3. This blog is still in need of a theme, but I am starting to realize that I may be standing in the middle of a theme and will only see it when hindsight gives me a chance to step back and reflect on it.