Friday, July 10, 2009

So, who knew . . .

Tea doesn’t come off the vines in mesh bags with little strings? Did I know there were acres and acres of beautiful green leaves on bushes almost shoulder high that yield the leaves in those little bags? Did I have any idea how the leaves are gathered (by hand) by people with baskets on their backs? They go through the rows of tea, pick the leaves and throw them over their shoulders into these rather huge baskets. The leaves are then brought to a facility where they are dried. Then they are crushed. Then they are sifted. Seems there are other similes for God’s refining fire.

Eventually they make their way into those little mesh bags with strings that we know and love. I never was much of a tea drinker until I met my good friend, Kathryn Jackson. She taught me tea was served best in a thin cup – a lesson she learned from her mother, Mrs. Grady. Since Ms. Kathryn is 90, I figure her mother musta known something we don’t in the 21st century.

On Saturday, July 4th, the MacFarlan clan and I headed down to Blantyre for the celebration of the 45th anniversary of Malawi independence. For Maitland it was somewhat of a command performance, although I am sure he was honored to be invited and part of the celebration. Sandy, Moses, Miriam and I were privileged to go along for the ride – although we didn’t attend the actual celebration.

While Maitland was in the stadium waiting for the President (who came on time), Sandy, the children and I went on an excursion to the border of Mozambique. I would have loved to have put my toe on the edge, but we didn’t know what the visa requirements were. The Malawi folks were ready to let us through, but not knowing the requirements, we didn’t know if the Mozambique folks would let us back into Malawi, so we didn’t go. I’ve got a picture of Mozambique from the Malawi side. That counts for something.

Our journey took us through the most incredible scenery. In particular, we went through two market places that reminded me of the pictures we used to see of Soweto back before South African liberation. Rows of wooden shanties packed together lining dirt streets. I do not have pictures. Perhaps I am just chicken, but it seemed to me to be disrespectful to be out there taking pictures of normal people living normal lives without their permission, and I just wasn’t sure how to negotiate that. I will attempt a word picture, but it will be woefully inadequate.
On both sides of the road were wooden “lean-tos” that were store fronts. They looked rather like Fisher Price children’s play store fronts – only they were larger, made of wood and not nearly as sturdy. They seemed to lean into one another from side to side. If the one on the end collapsed, it looked like they would all go down like a stack of dominoes.

All kinds of goods were being sold: food (tomatoes, potatoes, cassava, cabbage, bananas, pineapples—you name it); blankets (made in Mozambique), enamel ware (remember those old enamel dish sets? That’s the kind of stuff being sold.), all kinds of tin items, fabric for dresses and chitenji. My eyes could barely take in the variety of items offered at these markets. On each side there were cross streets leading up to the main road, each of which had similar establishments.
There were people everywhere – and they all knew pedestrians had the right-of-way. If we drove through these market areas at 5 mph we were making good time. Hats off to Aaron, our driver, who made it though without running over any toes or destroying any bicycles (or the people on them!)! Aaron is a very good, very serious driver who is able to negotiate Malawi’s roads with great aplomb. All of the highways, it seems, are two lane, so there’s a fair amount of passing slow trucks and even slower bicycles laden with amazingly heavy loads. I think in one of my posts I mentioned the bikes being stacked with 50lb sacks of maize flour or other grain. That was a mistake. The bags are 50 KILOS! Twice the weight I imagined – and sometimes there are two and three bags stacked on the back of the bike.

And, of course, wherever you drive and whenever you pass, you have to be aware of people walking – women, young and old, with heavy buckets of water or bundles of goods on their heads; men carrying heavy loads and/or passengers on their bikes – often a woman with a baby on her back (and sometimes another child in her lap!). You have to be aware of the children walking to or from school – horsing around as young children will when set free! You have to be aware of the goats – are they going to cross the road or not? And, of course, there are the never ending potholes – some of which I am sure are sink-holes. Needless to say, there is a big push to get home before dark because none of the streets are illuminated – adding a good deal of mystery and adventure to the sojourn.

Yep. Hats off to and prayers for Aaron! (and for Sandy and Maitland who do their own driving when there is no official business going on.
There really was no way to take pictures of this incredible experience, but it is one I never will forget. It is a graphic mixture of abject poverty (by U.S. standards) and prosperity and entrepreneurship.

Chitenji:
I have no idea if the spelling on this is correct. It is pronounced Chǐ-teń-jē. The cloth is two meters of 36” cloth a woman wraps around her waist to make a skirt. It is used as a kind of apron, e.g., when we went to the Ministry of Hope to spend time with the babies, we put on chitenji over our skirts for “protection.” That being said, observing the women walking along the road, I couldn’t tell if they had skirts on underneath, but Sandy assures me they do. I bought for a Chitenji the fabric that was designed for the 45th anniversary of Malawi independence. I have no idea when or where I would wear it, but it seemed like the historic thing to do. (I also acquired other fabric for a dress. Love those African prints!)

On the way home from Blantyre we stopped at Mua Mission. Mua is a Catholic mission started by a French priest at the end of the 19th century. Those who began the mission were beset with disease and distressed by inter-tribal warfare, and they left. They returned in the really early 20th century, established a mission and within 20 years established a seminary. The first African Bishop of Malawi was trained at Mua. Pretty cool.

We wanted the short tour. (The full tour takes 2-4 hours, depending on the amount of detail you receive.) We got there just before lunch time, which insured the snappy presentation. Our guide was quite engaging. He began his talk by pointing to a picture of Dr. David Livingston who is credited with bringing Christianity to Africa. Then he proceeded to say: “we don’t talk too much about him because we are Catholic.” I thought that sadly funny.

We were whisked through three “huts,” (they were shaped and decorated like grass huts, but were solidly constructed since the huts constitute the museum.) The museum huts revolved around a concrete Baobob tree. The first hut detailed the history of the Mission. The Mission was started by three priests who, when they arrived, pitched three tends around a Baobob tree. Hence, the configuration of the museum. I’ve got a few pictures from the first hut.

The second and third huts dealt with the life of the indigenous cultures of the area. The agreement the Mission made with the local chiefs was that no pictures could be taken in the last two rooms of the museum out of respect of the culture. I understand it, but what a loss! It was amazing to see.

Part of what the museum deals with is how the Roman Catholic Church was able to incorporate elements of cultural norms into its teaching and worship. I would have loved to have had more time wrestling with that. Of course, it is clear there are many aspects of the culture the roman Church rejected. I am sure there are good theological reasons for this, but on the face, the stuff was just plain scary! Yikes! To put it mildly! Someday I’ll get into it. I don’t know what kind of web site they have, and I don’t have internet access where I am staying now, but I’ll keep you posted.

I was sorry to leave Sandy and Malawi. There is still so much to see and absorb and it was so much fun to have Sandy, who has been in Malawi for about 1-1/2 years, as a guide and fellow traveler.

On Thursday I was off to Ghana, where I am right now. In Lilongwe it is winter and quite cold – colder than I imagined it would be. This is Ghana’s rainy season. I got off the plane at about 9:15 p.m. and felt like I had landed in Miami right after a thunder storm. It took my breath away. Temperature was in the mid 70s with humidity that made my keratin-treated hair begin to fuzz. Not quite the bozo fuzz, but it will be another week before I can claim my sleek and sophisticated look again.

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