Birds, blogs and bequests.
There is a bird I often hear in the garden with the most unusual song - first a raucous kind of cry and then a long, sweet, piping sound.
I wondered if it was two birds but when I asked Limited he assured me it was only one. I am guessing the first is a warning call and the second a connection call. Limited said it was yellow with a blue face and long tail so I am thinking, having searched both image and sound without absolute evidence, that it might be the White Starred Robin which is so common here.
The squark sound is so raw and distinctive and the pipe - long, high and mellifluous. I have heard it often, through the year and only now have I taken the time to try to identify the source. The sound of birdsong is a constant here - a sign at least that even if many of them did get eaten during the last famine some years ago, that they have returned in number.
In less than a week we shall be on Christmas leave and I am making plans to give Andrew and Limited and the gardener Fred, and guards Charles, Duncan and Stephen, their Christmas bonuses.
Because this year has seen costs in Malawi virtually treble, we are also giving them some gifts of food. I have bought them each a five kilo bag of maize flour, they call it Cream of Maize here and they use it for their favourite dish - nsima, pronounced 'enseema.' The flour is boiled with water to make a porridge and them steamed into cakes. It is relatively tasteless but they love it here - perhaps because as a staple it has saved more than one family from starvation during terrible famines.
Malawi is actually too dependent on maize as a crop. It was not always so. In times past the crops were more varied but famines and pressure from international seed suppliers, fertilizer suppliers and aid agencies has pushed maize to the top of the list. The only problem with that, as the Irish found out with the potato, if your survival depends pretty much on one crop and that crop fails you face famine.
But, emotionally and psychologically nsima is a must in Malawi and so we have come up with a gift which will be both appreciated and enjoyed. We have also bought three kilo bags of locally grown rice for each of them; two bags of sugar and a bag of lollies (sweets or candy).
We will also double the bonus this year for the gardener and the guards who get much less in terms of salary and support during the year. It isn't much but it is better than nothing and it will help. Limited and Andrew are better off because they have a large and thriving vegetable garden at the quarters. I bought them each some packets of seed the other day - okra, cabbage, butternut pumpkin, onions and carrots - none of which they had growing. They can grow to eat and grow to sell which will supplement diet and income.
The fuel supply problem has still not been resolved. The biggest issue is that Malawi does not have the foreign exchange funds to buy fuel and so it comes in dribs and drabs and given the uncertainty when it is here everyone fills up and then it is gone. It is the same in the supermarkets; when something appears on the shelves everyone stocks up and then it is gone and days or weeks or months pass before it re-appears. The cycle of supply and fear-driven demand creates an even more erratic and unreliable environment, which in turn, exacerbates the fear.
But, as expats, while the problems facing Malawi impact on our lives, they do so as minor inconveniences and not as the major traumas which the locals face or fear. It should not be this way and one wishes it was not this way but, beyond large bonuses and Christmas gifts, there is not much we can do.
Between power cuts and telephone cuts and diesel shortages, life muddles on. I have been busy painting and writing and cooking (when I can) and the days pass quickly. I am 250 pages into my my mother's biography, Princess of the Waters, still writing poetry pretty much on a daily basis, keeping up with my journal and editing manuscripts.
Life would be so much harder without both work and pastimes. Our Thai neighbours have left and the new tenant, a woman from Kenya, has yet to move in. At least I think so. I have seen and heard nothing.
On the plus side, given that every cloud has a silver lining, Pawadee kindly gave me some of her window screens before leaving so now we have 'air flow' in the kitchen, the sitting room and when I get it to fit - the bathroom window. We have done well with two out of three fitting given that in the Third World things are rarely 'made to measure' but instead 'made to the moment,' despite careful planning and design by architects and engineers alike.
Our Indian tenant who took up the house where our Danish neighbours lived has never appeared although from time to time someone seems to clean. My bet is that come the end of his lease it will be re-let without him ever having taken up residence.
And so it is a quiet sort of place. A bit lonely when I am alone but quiet - with little more than the serenade of birdsong. I am alone again for another three days - just me and the birds. The avocado tree is beginning to sag from the fruits of its labours and once again we shall have a good crop in the new year.
In the meantime Australia beckons - great wine, great food and family. Not in that order. I have been here for three months and for most of that time have been in the house. Not that I mind. It is a lovely house with a great sense of space opening onto the garden and I am good at keeping myself occupied and good at being alone.
Life is never dull and the days pass quickly. There is always something to do although I plan to bring back my embroidery and knitting when I return in the New Year. There is a limit to how much time I want to spend writing or reading and Eskom dictates how much time I get for cooking so something which does not require power, or, as in the case of painting, equipment like oils and canvases, is what I need. Knitting and embroidery fit the bill on all counts.
But between times there will probably not be much happening on the Blantyre Street Blog - not that much happens anyway.
