If beauty seeks out a man and finds him. And if the soul of that man realises he has been found, that beauty becomes whole, sincere and  truthful to everything that ever was.
Beauty in the eye of the beholder is conclusively only beauty for one , not for the  experiencial beauty of everything and everyone.

This very facet of our existence extends into our experiencial world of concious emotion, the present happenings; how beautiful moments are looking for us all the time, and how they will find us if we give them the space to.

The most beautiful part about this wonderful attribute of our universe is that it gives us comfort and true relative understanding of natures ever exceeding peace and  forgiving love that surrounds everything everywhere, inside, upwards and outwards. It allows us to keep on living and loving with pretty relaxed conditions on our ever so vunurable existence.
Sometimes, if not often; we forget that.

An expression that needed to escape from me. Everytime I go travelling, I become more aware of the beauty that surrounds me. I say beauty, because thats what best describes it for me. I guess it can translate into love; whatever you want to call it, its everywhere.
The more people I meet, the more I realise that this is universal. But only if we let it – be it liquid, solid, gas, organic, speaking, running or kicking; it really is possible to relate with things/beings on a level that will only amplify this feeling more.
I usually forget this in everyday society. But when I travel, I become very aware of it again; something re-lights the candle.
It is only when I let my predujiuces flow by, my skepticism sink away that I get to experience this.  Yes there is the issue of trust, people are devious. But everyone still has a soul, that can be tickled with this very feeling. I notice this in people’s eyes, even if they are trying to charge me three times the fare.

Every living thing wants comfort, and it is the extents to which it will push itself in order to gain this comfort that solicits the judgements to passed throughout the natural world. We see this not only with fashion, racism, sexism or predujice. But all throughout nature, infact as I understand many animals judge their pray, sexual competition or other species purely on the way they l0ok and act. It is the way our world identifies itself.

I feel like this trancends any philosophy, religion, or theory of existence and conventional living. Purely because it is what is, its not complicated, and it doesn’t need to be debated; its just the way things are, and its amazing.  To me, it would seem that the more people realise that thinking beyond our inhibitions and differences allows us to experience this, the more peace would prevail on earth.

I am writing this purely as my observation of the way things seem to be. It doesn’t seem like an opinion, it seems like natures strate of being, and how it really does have the power to make every living thing realise the joy of living and experiencing the moment – life.

However, I am here in Bangalore. A central City in Tamil Nadu region of India. Also known to be the silicon valley of India, due to its involvement in the international I.T industry.
It is funny, as being a Caucasian British guy, nearly every conversation that presents itself seems to be in the interest of ‘business’ in the entrepreneurial sense, I love that I still present that image despite the way I look. Got to give them Kudos for their enthusiasm, even if most of the ‘western’ travelers (well, most of the ones I have met anyway) are not necessarily as business minded as the people here seem to think they are.

I’m here in Bangalore on a stop through to Hampi (supposedly the area which the story Jungle book was originally based on) which is another 9 hour bus journey away, due to depart at 10.30pm. My bus from Kodaikanal arrived here at 6am this morning, so I have alot of time to kill here in this crazy, friendly and smelly city.
I’ll work my way back from here, otherwise I’m not going to be able to write anything coherent especially being in the environment that I am in; its pretty hard to concentrate!

So I came from a place called KodaiKanal. Labelled as one of the many Hillstations set up in the more mountainous areas of India, it was originally set up by Christian American Settlers in 1845 as a retreat from the diseases and heat. So in contrast to many places in India, its actually very pleasant.

Its 2000 meters up, so Its quite a journey from sea level, let alone the opposite coastline (where I traveled from) So if you decide to go, be prepared for some  freaky driving up a never ending and meandering road.

Its totally worth it though, especially if you manage to find residence in VataKanal, which is a small community that has arisen in a more remote area in the mountains. It seems to be predominantly occupied by Israeli tourists, but I’m pretty sure an eclectic bunch will always be found there. It seems like one of those environments on this space bound rock we live on – where people, be that travelers connect on levels that strangers do not usually do so. There are also all kinds of things to do here; boat trips on the lake, hiking through the mountain forests, biking, Yoga and some amazing views that should not be missed – note: Dolphins Nose Viewpoint (picture to come)
I will not forget the people I met here; Nicole – the plastic leg percussionist from Ukraine, Eddy – the Bearded Wizard Artist, long term resident and landord in Vatakanal. And of course, all the other amazing people I met.
We even had a nights session muralizing the inside of one of the guest houses (sara’s place) so if you go there, go and take a look to see if they are still there. By the way, if you do paint on the walls – make sure they are big paintings, otherwise the owner won’t be satisfied with the vandalism.
Oh, and there are lot of monkeys up this mountain. Rhasus monkeys – they all look like Bruce Foresythe. They are pretty cheeky and will try to steal off you/attack you if you look like a tourist. I also found out first hand that they retaliate to verbal insults with a fanged hiss. Pretty evil little things really.

Prior to Kodai Kanal I was in a place called Mamallapuram. This is a costal town just below the big city of Chennai. I actually backtracked on myself here from the more southern town of Puducherry, I did this to meet with friends. Its a nice place, but it has been heavily infected with the typical wrath of what is assumed to be tourist appeal (perhaps it is for some)

There a lot of shops with nice things here, so it is a good place to go if you like buying things (which I don’t) But also prepare for beggars, and a following of merchants if you happen to be seen purchasing pretty much anything from anyone. Actually, on the weekdays it wasn’t so much like this, and no-where near as bad as Puducherry, and I’m guessing that as a pretty novice traveler of India, there are places far worse for this kind of thing. There are some pretty cool and ancient Hindu temples here too.

There is also a giant boulder that looks like it will imminently squash any person who braves to walk its shadow. Its name – Vishnu’s Butter Ball.

I had the option to go surfing here, but there aren’t really proper waves, just too frequent beach breaks. I went swimming, but later regretted it after noticing the very obvious stream of sewage leading to the beach. Still feeling dandy though.

Man, rivers really smell here. Its so strong that the smell can linger in any vehicle until you can pretty much taste it.
The very nature of the sewage infested rivers initiated a conversation about sess pits with a very well spoken and intelligent resident from Puducherry that I met. He had actually never heard of one! I was surprised that they don’t seem to use them here, especially after seeing the common use of long drops in Africa. So the Gent got me to draw a diagram of one, and how it worked. We both later agreed that It either must be laziness or over-population that was the reason such systems were never implemented. However, there may be in other places in India that do use such systems.

Which leads me to my first real destination after Chennai; Puducherry or alternatively – Pondicherry. Its actually a French region, and part of the EU. Anyone who is born here can have a French  Passport, which I find very bizarre. This town is ok, but I wouldn’t go out of your way to visit it. There a few colonial buildings along the seafront and some nice restaurants, Cafe’s and historical monuments/temples. But apart from that not too much else to experience. My best experience in Pondicherry was with the guy I mentioned earlier, who was actually the owner of the airtel (phone network) simcard distributor. They managed to organize a simcard for me after they established I wasn’t a terrorist or threat to national security not long after me asking where I could find an orphanage to dump a 26kg bag of donations I begrudgingly brought over with me. He was so delighted with me that he invited me in for tea and snacks for a long philosophical, political and economical discussion about India and the rest of the world. What a nice guy Dave was, yes Dave is a common name in India too!

I forgot to mention the elephant. I hope to upload the video soon. The elephants are common outside Hindu temples, they are very well trained and calmly ‘bless’ people, or tap them on the head after being given cash. But they are definitely not happy. I couldn’t bear this sight for more than five minutes, as I could feel the sorrow of this elephant resonate inside me as I watched its blank stare towards nothing. Carrying out its duties so willingly and gently. At any moment this elephant could obliterate anyone in the area if it wanted to, but it doesn’t – ever.

Between my trip  from Pondicherry back up north to Mamallapuram, I stopped at the famous commune/city of Auroville. Originally started off by a french woman named Mirra Alfassa (Now cited as ‘The Mother’, that from my impressions would probably have her turning in her grave). I was excited by the prospects of a self-sufficient community, not burdened by modern day politics or bureaucracy. However, these things often seem too good to be true, and it pretty much was. Logistically, it kind of works. But the city still has to interact monetarily with the outside world. Which is kind of a fundamental contradiction towards Auroville’s overall mission. Yes it does have to gain its foundations from somewhere (inevitably monetarily) but this is not the only reason that I wasn’t so sure of this place…
Religiously and Ethically, its meant to be completely open and neutral. With no inflicted agenda. But after seeing multiple references towards the founder ‘the mother’ as ‘the mother’ pretty much as a church would to Jesus, I got an uncomfortable sensation of a cultist reckoning hanging over the place like a dark cloud with a silver lining. As soon as I found out the giant meditation temple in the middle (the Giant Golden golf ball – see pic below) had twelve parts that each represented a different attribute of ‘the mother’ I was pretty much out of there.

Scarily, I actually got fished from the crowd by a Aurovillian couple and asked If I would stay. No thanks, no matter how well you keep your grass in the unforgiving Indian heat!
I then trekked onto the coastal road where I would travel onto Mammalapuram, where I found the Auroville beach. This is definitely worth a visit! Beautifully kept, clean and some lovely places to stay away from that cloud I was talking about.

So far, from my point of view, India is pretty damn awesome. Its so cheap you could live here for as little as 5 pound a day if you wanted to. It is dirty, and people do hassle you. But thats to be expected; Most people are so unconditionally friendly, and love to know who you are and help you out. The country and its people are really paying for the negligence of its government; never a new story. But it seems that many here are becoming more politically aware and are starting to stand up for themselves.

Socially and spiritually the country is most eclectic I have ever been to. In that sense it is very, very interesting. I believe that this experience deserves a post on its own that I will try and get round to writing at a later date!

My advice to India – Teach the Bruce Monkeys to Pick up litter.

So, now in Bangalore, where everything is idling, mooing, shouting or bubbling. Soon to be in Hampi to go and chill with Mogli. Love you all!

Rusty bike with the pedals falling off, soft tyres and a saddle that can only support itself, no suspension – just the forgiving soft sand of the disjointed tracks that lead you to where you want to go; in that second of that hour of that day, under the hazy sun in the heart of rural Malawi in Africa.

I am living with wonderful people, people living Malawian.

Living Malawian is living now, feeling the warmth of the sun, searching the words of a friend, feeling the hunger of your belly, working from dusk till dawn for the 30pence to spend on what seems best that day, and praying to god to give thanks for it all.

“Joshua! Joshua!” – My name is not Josh I am told, I am Joshua Like in the Bible. “Joshua! How are you?” Every child calls out running from random bushes I pass, all dressed in the clothes they have found and worn till the last thread falls, Boys in girls frocks, Girls in Boys tee’s.. It doesn’t matter here.

Crickets mask the silence that this place boasts; through day and night. Night where the sky drowns everything in a tint of blue light from the expanse of stars that span the sky, concentrated in a cloud – the Milky Way that stretches from opposite Horizons.

I am teaching in a school, a kind lady’s house she has donated for education, built by herself alone from the bricks sourced from the dusty clay outside. No electricity, no kitchen, one chair, one door – three doorways, no cooker – just a fire, no bed – just mat made from bamboo.

Dozens of eager smiles all focused on my every word… all ready to listen, ready to play, ready to learn. Mischievous, undisciplined, slightly selfish (You would be too with what they have) but wonderful and innocent children. Amused for hours by as little as a leaf on a stick to act like a form of impeller, or an old tyre rolled by a stick. English, maths, geography – The children love geography; the enlightening nature of knowing ones location, when before you only knew what village you live in and that sometimes a white man (mzungu) might come to visit.

My guitar draws crowds.. I’m not even a campfire guitarist (I dont have a big repertoire) Even so ‘The lions sleep tonight’ (that is easy for a malawian child to grasp) can entertain indefinitely and over a matter of minutes gather a crowd of near a hundred people of mixed ages all dancing and singing.

People are alive here, they don’t know about fashion, they don’t know about Facebook, they don’t know about the latest scandal by what ever celebrity. They don’t know about the tyrannic nature of corporations around the world that help perpetuate their living conditions and influence their endeavors and potential demise. These people don’t care, but as they learn more about the ‘West’ they want to know more, and they want more of that ‘more’, they want to advance, which I can only assume is natural and inherent in Mankind. We can try and help, but we can also implement; these people are/were self sufficient, but making life’s priorities about commodities that one can not afford can be potentially damaging to the sacred and fragile way of life here in Malawi. It is something I have learnt here; I am ambivalent.. I want to help, but to help these people I think is to help them help themselves. It is very hard to do it in the right way, and to not go with my initial assumption about what things are done ‘wrong or right here’. One thing is for certain, these people need money, they have gone beyond a point of living without it. So they need it to build their lives in the most productive way possible. I intend to raise this – whatever it takes, people in Malawi, people in Africa need Aid.

So far I have designed an outdoor oven that can be constructed for as little as £5.

I Have been teaching in a school called Hayo School.

I Have been contructing a Website for the organisation which is currently unfinished and will be completed upon my return.

I created a notice board for the community that is based near the main dirt road. Here announcements best reach the community.

I have been painting Murals on the schools which make them more appealing.

I have been painting the organisations logo on various buildings aswell as other artwork, and getting involved with whatever I can.

Everyone here is doing so much, everyone helps, everyone is buying, talking, teaching, fixing, building, cooking, and helping. Its a team effort.

Since I have arrived Tikondwe has starting building a local orphanage, an education centre, a new volunteer residence. It has hired a new Malawian Headteacher for all seven schools, it has a woman empowerment group to improve sexual equality, it has an HIV awareness program, it has a business education program, it takes the sick to hospital, it serves the community with whatever aid it can given the funds it has.

That is why it needs your help, it needs you to volunteer, it needs you to donate, it needs to grow, to reach more of Malawi.
It is as little at £150 to build a homeless person a house, or £1 to feed a child a month.
This organisation was started by Joshua Mbozole, a family man, a very clever, and very kind Malawian. Its base is here, in the rural village of Napwanga.

Soon it will have a registered associated charity in the UK. It will be possible to donate straight into its Malawian bank account. SOON.. I will have pictures, more information and eventually a website all about it. So if you don’t trust me to donate now (through my donations page – the paypal button, that I will be able to give in cash before I leave) then please consider when the website is set up. I will have the full blog posted soon…along with photos.

Thankyou – “Zikomo” for reading.

SO…I’m hoping this will get up there on to this forsaken blog! Unfortunately this post should be the most poignant one on my blog. Carrying the main objective of having a blog in the first place for my trip to Malawi; that being to show the people who contrubuted donations where it was going to. It is shame that i thas been so hard for me to post this artcile, or the article it was, as I had some good descriptions of the oprhans that were donated to, and the experiences we had distrubuting the material. However, I intend to persevere, and will include such information when the technology here permits me to.

So yesterday, after much anticipation and four weeks of organising. Kat and I, along with the help of some of the other volunteers had managed to sort through the donations you gave to us to bring over for those who need it. Deciding to whom it should be given and where they were located in Domasi. Domasi is a large region in Malawi that contains many villages in which these people are located – it spans over many square miles.

So yesterday, Kat, Myself, wyson and peter (local volunteers) dispatched on some bicycles to distrubute this material around Domasi. It was a very exhausting experience, and sometimes very upsetting, some of the people here literally have nothing. We gave out the things to those of all ages, male and female. They were very appreciative, so thankyou very much for your contributions.

I had linked all the images of the people donated to (holding what they had received) But as you know already, I lost this post many times. So to view the images, you can just go to the Gallery page, and look at the most recently added images (the last pages) To see the hands in which your contributions fell. Thanks again!

Pictures below showing all of the material before distrubiution, and then pictures of the distrubition to all of the local teachers.

There will info and pictures for distrubution of orphan donations soon!

Officially Four weeks in Malawi!!

After the initial arrival, which involved turning up in the middle of the African Bush in the middle of the night, opening the door to many local villagers giving me and Kat the largest and most special Welcome I have ever received anywhere. I woke in the morning to a small concrete room with a single light bulb and various sized cockroaches crawling around the room.

It is actually quite a humble little house I live in, and much more than I ever expected. The project has developed a long way since the documentation I have received about it. Now we have solar powered lighting for night, running water and flushing toilets, which in this environment is such a commodity. I actually feel quite guilty with having these luxuries when some of the villagers are sleeping on bamboo mats, have long drop toilets, and no electricity what-so-ever.

Nigh vision

As stated, I arrived to complete darkness, not really being able to see anything or anyone around me, all I could see was what reflected the lamination from the moon like teeth and eyeballs. The locals however, seem to be able to see everything! Even after my eyes have adjusted and what appears to be pitch black, I hear people call out to me ‘Joshua’ or ‘Muzungu’ (which means foreigner/white person) The eyesight of the locals here is amazing, pretty much night vision. Sometimes people will walk back from market for hours in complete darkness, normality here.

Recruitment

So I open my door to a quaint little hamlet, locals refining maize (The staple diet here – like sweetcorn, but not sweet) The sun is blazing, a cloudless sky, the slight smell of bamboo wood smoke touches the air.

“Muli Bwanji!” A local shouts. This means “Hello, How are you?”

Of course, I didn’t know the reply, and coyly responded with a smile and half shrug, they laughed and instantly spoke English; telling me what they had just said. This turned out to be Papa who is the father of many, including Joshua Mbozole (the founder of the Tikondwe project) He is a very respectable man, with a very kind heart. He is a leader of the village as such which is called Napwanga Village. He has brought up the family with his wife known as Mama, also very kind. She cares for everyone it seems, taking on more cooking, washing and other tedious tasks than I have ever seen. These amongst all the other villagers have made me and Kat feel very welcome, and have introduced us to many aspects of the Malawian culture which I hope to describe on this blog.

*I am trying to beat the daylight as I type this as quick as I can in this internet Café, so please excuse my grammar and spelling. I did have a post typed up on another volunteer’s laptop, but they had a visa issue and still have not returned from Mozambique.

After being shown around the local schools, and surrounding villages to get an idea of the environment we would be working in, we then had to decide where and how we would be working. As I have had past experience teaching and working with children I just said I would work where I was most needed. This turned out to be Hao School.

In the mornings I am working with around thirty 2-7 year olds attempting to teach English and maths and general knowledge. This is easier said than done, as the children want to climb trees most of the time and have an even shorter attention span than I – which is pretty damn short! I’m slowly getting grips with it, learning implemented into games is the way to go, alongside a reward system involving sweets (behavior bribery) that I will be implementing this week.  In the late morning there is a scheduled feeding program where the children receive phala (Maize porridge) with a little sugar added. This keeps them going, as many of them are malnourished.

In the afternoon I teach ages 8+ (anything up to adult) teaching  English, Geography, Science, History, Expression (Art) and general knowledge. This is very rewarding as everyone is very eager to learn, meaning they pick up things fast and progress quickly. So my only stress is making sure I am teaching them correctly, which is possible with my Stone Age internet connection and books available. I have a translator who is there to help, her name is Violet. At 17 she is very clever; adapting the English language and many other skills at this age is very good in Malawi. This is why another volunteer has sponsored her to go to private school where she will be able to build her career.

Hao school is hosted in the house of Rose, a mother here who built the house completely on her own. Unfortunately this is too small for the classes here, and they are desperate need for a new school, which will cost about 300-400GBP. I hope to be able to fundraise for this so that Rose can have her home back, and the people have a proper school go to!

Travelling from Reading to Lewes was, to say the least, an interesting experience. The hustle and bustle, the fast moving trains, all co-coordinated so precisely in order to move the a great abundance of human cattle. Everyone with their own direction, motive and ambition. The transition from being such an avid participant to what I felt to be an enemy of the crowd was not an easy challenge. People do not take kindly when having to dodge a scruffy looking guy with four massive bags that he can barely carry on their way to work!

I thought patience would be the answer, I thought that waiting to get my bags off the train at the end of the journey woud deem a more admirable gesture. But it seems that this attempt would just mean that the train conductors would have to resort to throwing my bags onto the platform for me. Kind intentions, just a job and late train!

For me, this experience has proven to be very important towards my initial interpretation of Malawi.
The heckling, the complete abandonment of safety, the hundreds of eyes on the dollar sign floating above your head and the many other extreme twists on culture, safety and hygiene that I never would have expected all seem so trivial when the warmth of the Malawian people is taken into account.

Arrival

The plane journey to Addis Baba involved a great deal of trust in the airline (Ethiopian Airlines: which I note are very hospitable) after seeing the sorry state of the chassis on plane entry. I could have sworn I saw duct tape, but then duct tape does hold my van together pretty well.

The journey was very long, seven hours. It seemed so much longer when presented with Jack Black’s latest attempt at acting in a bird watching movie. Both Kat and I were so tired, fazing in and out of lucid sleep the whole way. At one point woken by what I thought as the most impressive in-flight meal I have ever had, though apparently my standards for plane food are not that high.

The seatbelt light finally came on, we were landing! But I only became aware of touchdown as the impact woke me from my final sleep as I shrieked and grabbed the arm-rests. Grabbing attention from the whole plane. I guess this experience would put a whole new twist on falling dreams.

Addis Baba airport expressed an instant difference to any other airport I had been to. Not only was it quiet, but it hosted the most exquisite and eclectic shops that you would only usually expect down a side street in London somewhere. After three hours of lying down for the first time in what was probably over a day we then got on the plane to Lilongwe, only three hours… It passed quickly.

Lilongwe airport was buzzing with motions from diplomats, police, travelers and tourists. A mix of people all crammed into the smallest arrivals area I’ve seen. After writing down my travelling intentions on a piece of paper, we then had to wait for our bags to come through on a decrepit conveyor belt that seems pointless as it is only a small distance from the plane. I believe it is only there for Lilongwe airport to compare to other international airports… I think they should allow people to retrieve their bags straight from the hold, as this would only add to the charisma that Lilongwe airport possesses.

If you do ever fly to Lilongwe please be prepared to wait for a long time for your bags to come, i thought one of mine had gone forever… The one with all my personal belongings. At the time my mind was running through all the possible solutions, one being how I might fit into age nine clothes from the donations bag I had already retrieved. Having two 23kg bags for hold allowance is great benefit, especially for the Thikondwe organization. But it can be a mental burden until at least one of them gets to their final destination.
Funnily enough, they do actually check through everyone’s baggage after you have retrieved it (I can only guess this might be incase the bag has been planted with something along the way) But if you state what you are doing to the people checking, they let you through pretty quickly.

TAXI!

The poor taxi driver must have been waiting at least two hours since our original arrival. We left at 9.00pm from Heathrow on the Monday and arrived in Lilongwe at 12.25pm Malawian time. We didn’t meet our taxi driver until around 2.30pm. So expect this if you are ever to land in Lilongwe.

The taxi driver was very friendly, and was to be our initial guide to Malawi. After cramming all of our baggage (probably about 120kg in total) into the back seats of a banged up Toyota saloon, not facilitating the empty boot whatsoever, and after I struggled to refrain from giving into any of the tipping requests off the numerous men who kept trying to scale my bags..I mean ‘help’ with my bags; we finally set off on what was probably one of the most nail-biting journeys I’ve ever had!

After his kind introduction and unveiling of a very British music taste (lil’ Wayne, Craig David, M&M) The taxi driver took us into Lilongwe (the Capital, but not oldest city of Malawi) To a shopping precinct to get our food and our money exchanged. The money Exchanging in Malawi deserves a whole article written about it in itself, foreign money is often changed by an ‘independant foriegn exchange bureau’ you might call it; often involving sitting in a car with a gentleman who will discreetly pass you a chunk of cash – so large in size, in exchange for your very valuable British pounds. This kind of transaction is not unusual in Malawi and at first may seem very conspicuous. You just have to remind yourself that you are in Africa, and that if you want to get any kind of decent and realistic rate this is normal practice – In the current political situation here anyway.

Politics are at a penultimate stage here in Malawi as you might already know, many things are changing and a lot is happening. The exchange rate is something that will hopefully soon be truly reflected by all of the legitimate organizations. Free trading and alternative markets are crucial to the lives of the Malawian people. Without these trading methods, people would not have any way of affording to buy or sell.

“BOILED EGGS, FIFTY KWACHA!”

The style of trading in Malawi is present in all areas of consumerism, transport, and tourism… It’s not really possible to be an introvert in Malawi. People are very personal and will approach you with confidence. In some situations you may find yourself swamped by many traders trying to get you to buy their products or services (sometimes with accompanying beggars!) This may seem overwhelming at first, but is really a normality here and inevitable if your are a ‘Westerner’. Most people assume you have lots of money.
However, it is not necessarily a negative aspect of Malawi. From my observation, it appears that people here are very warm and sincere in some respects. Although not always honest, you can be assured you will always be treated fairly if you know the price. You can barter and people will negotiate; often laughing and joking as they go. This country has an un-systemized, organic and very humanistic attitude towards business, commerce and life in general. This of course can be chaotic and inconvenient. Sometimes people can be aggressive towards other traders, but generally it’s all very trivial. I have not seen many incitation’s or acts of violence whilst I have been here apart from a few domestic incidents in the village.

The famine however, is very apparent – especially in Lilongwe. What I saw after leaving the shopping precinct evoked many emotions in me. On one road I had to look away… I’m not going to describe what I saw, as most already know about the terrible living conditions some people in the world endure. But I can tell you that these places existed with a severe lack of hygiene, nutrition and general resources. The smell was terrible. However, fortunately I have not experienced anything that bad since I have left Lilongwe and have been told that is known for being that way. Lilowenge holds title as the Capital of Malawi, but not the oldest city. It was built with trading motives, and has adapted various western attributes; some of which have no doubt had a negative effect on poorer classes in the area. Blantyre (the oldest city in Malawi) Where I am at time of uploading this post appears to be much more civilized, affluent and cleaner.
So if you do visit Malawi, or want to Volunteer, please do not be put off by Lilongwe if you land there. Malawi is a VERY beautiful country with beautiful people.

ROADS – please wear you seatbelt

If you like adrenaline, then you will like being on the road in Malawi. The buses, Matola’s (pickup trucks containing as many animals and people that can be squashed into and onto), and taxi’s all drive at ridiculous speeds, barely missing pedestrians and ‘Jingers’ (People on bicycles; often carrying other people or luggage) along their way. This is very hair-raising. However after while of being here I have now realised that this is a normality, drivers and Jingers alike seem to maneuver each other like ambulances do traffic in the UK. Most of the time not showing any cause for concern or loss of control (there are occasions).

The Taxi took us a very long way. On the M3, a road that spans most of Malawi, crawling its way through one of the most luscious, green and interesting environments I have ever seen. Planes that escaped the limits of human vision, mountains that broke the clouds, rivers and lakes that shone like needles on the green infinity that sung its presence underneath the Cliché looking African sun falling slowly behind the ever so hazy, pulsating horizon.

After many stops to trade with locals and go through police barriers, the driver got us to the Village of Domasi. The road to Domasi was very bumpy and barely a track, it ripped off the taxi driver’s exhaust (which he shrugged at). It shook us up a bit, but if anything was beneficial in waking us up to be ready for the welcoming we were about to receive.

Not having any idea where I was, in the middle of the African bush the car came to a halt. Still half sleepy, the door opened, I was surrounded by 20, 30 people of all ages. Eyes and smiles gleaming in the dim light that shone from nearby residence.

“Welcome to Malawi! Welcome to Malawi! Welcome…. to Malawi” They sung.

It was possibly the warmest of welcome’s I have ever received.
We got shown to our room, kicked away the cockroaches, and set up our mosquito nets. We briefly said hello to everyone and quickly got to indulge in a video of the project organizers wedding, being shown on an old cathode television run off a car battery. Being absolutely exhausted from our journey, both Kat and I went to bed pretty early. Not really allowing much socialising. The days after and up until now have been very for filling, and a lot has happened. I have alot to copy from my journal to the blog, but my hands are tired along with everything else. So I will take advantage of the technology in this town whilst I am here and complete my updates tomorrow.

One love

I never ecompassed how much would be involved in getting everything ready for this trip. I have spent just over three weeks gathering resources, donations and purchasing supplies. Seemingly much more preperation than needed for my hitchiking trip across Canada a few years back!

For my last night in cardiff, to what was meant to be a quick farewell to some friends turned into a near nightmare. A brief stop at Buffalo involved my initial goodbyes followed by hours through the night searching for my car keys; eventually leading me to the conclusion that I had locked them in the boot!…45 minutes later, in 3 minutes flat with a long rod and door pump, me and the recovery mechanic quickly found out they were not in there.

So after another few hours amongst phseudo-zombie like customers; some very considerate and some completely arrogant…scraping around on the floor, gathering help of fellow Buffalo bretherins… I had no luck. So I used the bed sheet to cover me in the chill of the night in the little Ford Ka, and attempted to sleep.

Literally seconds after the initial dissapointment of realising my short slept dream of finding my car keys appeared untrue (mostly due to tha fact that I didn’t lose them in the car with me, and in the dream – thats where I found them) I heard running footsteps coming over to my car. They had found them! Heather’s face beaming with Joy! I could not of been more relieved!

Thankyou for finding my keys Guys (Will G especially) it turns out that on my intended quick drop in visit to Buffalo I had walked back to the bar with my keys to say Goodbye. Dropped the keys in a box used to switch the glasses from glass to plastic at that particular time of night!…
This box gets taken down to the cellar… and BEWSH.. I’ve lost my keys. Forces beyond work in mysterious ways, I guess I was meant to be there all night.

Now on to the frantic last moments before I leave, trying to ensure I have everything with me that I will need to stay alive in the land of Africa.  Can’t wait to get on that plane, to ride the storm!…