Morning

I wake up at about 4:00 a.m. Lying in bed, I hear a man’s voice in the distance begin singing a gentle but penetrating chant in another language — the morning call to prayer. This is the first time I’ve ever heard it. It is, indeed, beautiful.

I get up and do a few exercises on my new yoga mat. My hands and feet are still swollen from the flight, even though I slept with my feet raised on pillows. I hope that the exercise will help relieve that. As the sun rises, I start to hear birds — chatty, melodious, querulous, proud, insistent — a small orchestra of sounds. Some, like the doves and roosters, I recognize.

When I arrived at the hotel, one of the first concerns I had was whether I could drink the water. I found a small bottle of water in the little fridge, so drank that to start. But I absolutely don’t want to be reliant on bottled water while I’m here, and I have no idea whether the tap water was safe for me to drink. What is the alternative? Before I went to bed, I boiled tap water in the kettle, put it in my water bottle, and left that in the refrigerator over night. I’m grateful to have that this morning

(Later I learn that while tap water in Lilongwe is chlorinated, there was a contamination problem late last year, so boiling it is still advised.)

After getting dressed for my first day of work in Lilongwe, I walk across to the restaurant building and enter through open French doors. There to greet me are two women standing behind a table with hot serving trays and a griddle for cooking eggs. On another table against the adjoining wall are coffee, tea, and covered platters of cold food. 

I’m pleased to discover slices of papaya and watermelon, and also get two fried eggs with baked plantain and a few pieces of roasted potato. I take my breakfast through the simple dining area where other guests are eating and watching a news broadcast, and find a table on the patio facing the garden. Another man is seated at the table next to me, absorbed in reading something on his laptop as he eats. A laptop case, open briefcase, and stack of papers suggest he’s here on business.

I was told to expect someone to pick me up at 7:30, but when I come out to the parking area at 7:20 with my briefcase, ready to go, a very friendly man approaches me, introduces himself as Jeremy, and tells me he’s been waiting. Am I late? This is not the Africa time I expected! I go to get into the passenger seat of the Toyota Land Rover, but find (as I did at the airport) that I’m on the driver’s side. Jeremy laughs, and asks whether I’m ready to try driving here. I grin, and I walk around to get in the other side.

Jeremy drives down a couple well-treed streets, skillfully dodging the potholes, past a long brick wall with “Korea Garden Lodge” painted repeatedly along it, and pulls up to a gate in another brick wall. He honks for the security guard to open the gate, and we drive into Savanna Courtyard, pulling up to the first in a row of small, red brick townhouses. Jeremy honks again, and Marine and Jonathan, the other Cuso International volunteers working at the CARE office, emerge from the house to join us.

Jeremy parked outside Flat #7, Savanna Courtyard

Savanna Courtyard is two rows of brick townhouses in an L-shape set on one side of a circular driveway, with a large brick house in the middle. The first row of townhouses, on the left as we drive in, are one-story two-bedroom dwellings. Those along the row at the back are larger two-story units, each with a small balcony on the second floor. Outside each townhouse is a dark green or blue water tank atop metal scaffolding. There are rough, crabgrass lawns and many trees. Somewhere in this complex is the townhouse where I’ll be living.

Copyright © 2019 Lynn Thorsell, All rights reserved.

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Malawi album on Google Photos

Please note that the views expressed here are mine alone, and do not necessarily reflect the views of Cuso International.