Full of colors, faster paced life, businesses.
Chilamoni where I stay I am surrounded byTEXTURES in every direction.
From dusty gravel roads to jaged stones as a pathway; hand made bricks in all hues of
redish orange to fresh fruits and vegetables of all different shapes and colors.
Angles that allow you to appreciate and houses in hues from the an artist’s palet.
Wind blows, and my skin shivers. I feel good. This expression of the earth makes all things new and warm and good.
Breathtaking beauty is brought to my attention by belief that God is an artist.
I find myself is a valley– times are unsettling, with new challenges daily.
Yet, the hilltops have heights that have me higher than high…
I know this is not now the time for full comprehention, however, someday Ill understand the lessons for which I am passing through and see why the struggle to the top was so tough.
Seriously, if I am not fascinated with the make and model of the mwuezi(moon), I am obsessed with the abundance of colors God splashed in the sun
Setting up a back drop for the prettiest photographs — only for my mind to capture.
Night is near, with a subtle exchange to the afternoon, and I hope one day I can recreate the depth of this serenity
You have to see to believe, that this is the WARM HEART OF AFRICA for yourself.
When I awake and arise from my slumber in the early morning,
Madzi is slowing boiling for the shower I shall soak up..
Adding some flowing water from the faucet, I prep for the day.
Two legs in my skirt, which skirt/shirt combination today?
Breakfast; bread & butter plain or taken with Chombe tea?? grown just an hour away in lushious green fields…
A trip to town, grab my kwacha.
Sometimes crispy money, most of the time, wrinkled, overused and dirty–so I walk to the bus depot
Down the unpaved trail, across the river, hope to hop to the rocks that rise out of the water…faithfully I leap!
Passing shops with open doors, music blarring on the radio, mostly praising God;
Catching stares from the littlest ones — maybe they’ve never seen someone like me before;
I am there
I am greeted,
Madzuka Bwangi? I reply, dadzuka Bwino, Zizomo!!
The minibuses* zipping by with the callerman shouting “80Kwacha to town,” I climb inside, and squeeze in. Crowded with people in colorful dress,
carrying brown potatoes, green apples and furry, lively chickens
Put- put- put as the petrol in this country is scarce, I pray we progress
Picking up people along the way, this is how Malawi’s bus system works.
One out, 3 more in. Did I mention the squeeze?
Personal space is no comfort here, the callerman is now the conductor and he collects coins and bills.
We whip around corners and sometimes I secretly suggest for seatbelts….
In town, the streets buzz with people. Smiles abound, and hands seeking change.
Here, I am overcome with the beauty I am exposed to
I’v become more creative & have aquired an attraction to art.
Remember to look around, to reach up and smell the flowers around you.
Pick one off the limb and feel the texture, and then offer it as a random gift.
I beg you
Sense it all
*Minibuses are 15 passenger vans. Not buses. Come to Malawi – experience the fun. 🙂