Temptations in July 04
Temptations
Nearly every day I feel tempted to buy something for Joseph or his family and it is getting quite difficult to resist that temptation. Few days ago I visited his home, bringing blankets for the children. These multi-coloured blankets were assembled from small knitted pieces of wool, created by the ladies in a Woking Day Centre for the Elderly. I love the idea of this ‘heart to heart’ present and so did the children; these were after all their very first blankets. They giggled happily, sitting on their new beds, clinging into their new colourful gifts.
The house is high up on a hill, reached only by foot. I was spacing my toes carefully on the rocky path, winding between houses and wandering what it is like in the rainy season; it was slippery enough now and it hadn’t been raining for days.
“It is bad then” admits Joseph “but my wife likes living up here, we have a good view”. What a wife! Every drop of water- apart from the rain water they manage to collect on rainy season – has to be carried from the bottom of the hill. Minnie balances the metal bucket on her head and delicately climbs up. “Wouldn’t it be a bit lighter to carry a plastic bucket?” My question has slipped out before I realise what the answer would be. Of course it would be easier to carry a plastic bucket, but plastic is expensive, they don’t have such a luxury.
Minnie is a hairdresser and a customer of hers is sitting outside the house on our arrival. Women here go to great trouble for having their short curly hair transferred into a long, straight one. Most commonly – if one can afford it - artificial hair is platted into the natural one. This takes several hours, even a whole day and can be quite painful. These new curls last about a month and then there is another ordeal of having them taken out. Minnie’s customer has only few more bundles of hair waiting to be added before her new creation is finished and 120 kwacha (60 pence) will change hands.
Maize porridge is cooking on a coal fire. Vegetables and eggs have already been cooked and when ‘nsima’ is ready, we all sat down on a straw mat, wash our hands in a bowl and start filling our plates with steaming hot food. One spoon is sticking out from the egg bowl and Minnie carefully rinses it before offering the next course. “Sorry about this, we have only one spoon” she apologises. Family of five having one spoon! I know they have hardly anything, but I am still surprised. My western mind finds it difficult to apprehend the lack of everything and even more so when the people seem to accepted that, even thanking for what they do have.
Traditional Malwian custom is to eat using fingers and we all start rolling our ‘nsima’ in order to pick vegetables or egg with it. Nothing wrong with that custom, except messy fingers as a result, but when I arrived to Limbe, I walked straight into a shop selling spoons and plastic buckets. Temptation was too strong to resist.