Lessons learned

A training took place. Twenty Malawian men and women, all different ages, gathered here at the center for a one week permaculture instruction. Permaculture can be loosely defined as: a deliberate effort in designing a life that provides a reasonable amount of human needs while rebuilding the natural systems. Let’s just say it is more the sum of its parts, and these parts are very practical and respectable ways of living. For example: conserve resources (water tanks with solar panels and seed saving), reusing resources (composting and redirecting your grey water), and growing a whole bunch of different organic veggies and fruit trees (not necessarily in tidy straight rows) that are beneficial to each other, as well as your health and eventually the soil. I don’t see too many hippy dippy Malawians, and I believe these approaches to be necessary in an environment where resources, food, and money are taxed, limited, and essential. These methods, among many others, are demonstrated here at the center and taught to various Malawian individuals and communities. At the end, a graduation ceremony. Faces are shining as they receive their diploma and energies burst as dancing and the singing create a live band without instruments. Biswick, a lead instructor that lives here at the center, performed like a warrior chief stoking his ramparts for war when he sang. And Sam, the visiting instructor from Monkey bay with the gentle lion heart; danced with the flexibility of a yogi.  Everyone celebrated with such joy and abandon; their accomplishment inspiring release through song and dance and purpose.

As for my own lessons. Bent nails are hammered straight and reused as if new. PVC pipe is ugly but also durable against the termites. Hot chilli pepper water can help clear an aphid problem, but also burn your gloveless hand for about eight hours following. The air potato… it actually grows on vines and tastes exactly like a potato! Colonialism is alive and well. Hitchhikers are as regular as a glass of water. Joyce Banda is the president of Malawi, and also a woman! Hope you like Carlsberg.  Light bulbs here burst to let you know when they are done. Toads like to sleep in shoes. Loofas grow on trees.  ‘Zikomo’ means thank you.

I wake to what sounds like a bonfire party in the distance, but it is only the diversity of birds rising up the sun. Woodpeckers are prevalent throughout the day. So too is the off and on singing and laughing of all the Malawian workers here. I can hear when they just dumped a new bucket of groundnuts near my room. Stories are swapped between me and the interns or else I’m bumbling Chichewa (the local language) to a passing Malawian. A hyena yelps in the distance letting you know evening is setting. Bushbabies (which I really hope to see!) are the sort of clucking noise I’m told. I fall asleep to the sound of crickets, cats scrapping, that damn rooster. It is brisk out and I do not regret my flannel sheets.