The Last Lap Begins

Once Damien and Emily left I realised that very soon I'd be leaving Malawi as well. This realisation brought mixed emotions. Yes, I was glad I'd soon be reunited with Wendy and the family; but life had changed. I now had dear friends in Mbame and I wasn't looking forward to being parted from them. However, although I had only 3 full days left in Malawi, and 'full' was the right word - I had lots still to do here, and, although I didn't know it, some of the best was still to come! But the Lord knew!

Sunday 2nd May

Today was my last Sunday in Malawi. I was a bit sad I wasn't going to be worshipping in Mbame Church, but it had been arranged I'd preach in Nansembe Prayer House. The Rev Joe came to the Fisherman's rest to pick me up, along with his driver and Stevie, Amos and Aubrey. Nansembe was well off the beaten track and the road was the worst I was on in my time there. In fact, to call some of it a road was a serious exaggeration and the further we went the worse it became. There were several occasions where I thought we'd have to get out and walk, because even with the 4x4 in 1st gear we needed more than one attempt to get up several very steep inclines. However, it wasn't the inclines that were worrying me - it was the declines! There were parts of the road where, had a wheel slipped over the edge, we would surely have rolled a very long way down a very steep hill. I quickly informed the Lord that it was quite possible I'd be standing before him a good bit earlier than I had expected, and implored him to forgive my many hitherto unconfessed sins; I also let him know that I'd really enjoyed my time in Malawi and was really quite keen to carry out the church's plans for me over the next three days. Well, some time later we arrived safely at Nansembe. I told the driver that he was my new hero, and he seemed quite pleased about that.

The church folk were outside waiting for our arrival. After much shaking of hands the Rev Joe and I sat in the shade, as apparently we weren't quite ready for the service to start. It was then that I noticed an old man sitting by the church door; he had no fingers or toes; he was blind; he was a leper. Inside the church women and children sang their songs; outside, this dear old man joined in. What's more, he sang with a lovely smile on his face. My heart was deeply moved. Trying to fight off my fears about catching leprosy myself, I felt drawn over to him and held his hand. He was so pleased I spoke with him. So am I.

The service was wonderful, as always. The choirs were fantastic, all the more surprising as we really were out in the sticks. And the children's choir was fantastic. I tried to video them on my camera, but it was really too dark inside for that. The Lord had burdened me, once again, to preach about his love for the poor, the outcast, the seemingly unimportant. I preached from Luke 15 on the Prodigal Son. I'd felt the Lord wanted me to speak on this chapter, even though I wasn't sure it was the best passage to develop my theme. However, later that day I was told that my presence had meant that several 'prodigals' had returned to the church that morning. So the passage was, indeed, the right one after all! Once again I preached without any notes - something I'd have found impossible even a few weeks ago. And I never felt worried that I'd run out of things to say. It just seemed this was the way the Lord wanted me to preach. The Lord put things into my heart and he gave me the words. Wonderful! The Rev Joe then led the congregation in the Sacrament - a fitting conclusion to my times of worshipping with the believers in Mbame and the surrounding area.

After a cooling swim in the pool I got dressed and walked down to see Esnat who I knew would be working in her shop. Esnat is one of the dear women who serve me at the Tea-House. She is a lovely, gentle believer who exudes a serenity that makes her such a delightful person to be around. The other day I heard Rory, the manager of FR talking to her about her shop. I asked her if I could come and see it. She seemed very pleased and told me she'd be working there Sunday and Monday.

Esnat's shop is built on to the home she shares with her husband John Mwasola and their three children Alinafe (God with us), Takondwa (Happy) and Trinity. It's just a stone's throw down the road from FR. When I get there Esnat is delighted to see me. We talk outside for ages, then she invites me to come in. We sit in the shop, which is open. I sit on the seat (probably the only seat in the house) and she sits on the floor. Two of her girls are there. They are lovely. I ask Esnat if she is happy with her life. With a lovely smile she looks up at me and replies, "Oh yes. I am so happy!" As customers come and go, buying very small amounts of oil for tonight's cooking, or candles or matches or whatever, Esnat shells ground-nuts and the children and I eat them for her. You know me - always willing to help! I told Esnat that, until I went to the Chief's fields, I didn't even realise these nuts grew under ground. I asked her how she cooked them. Apparently they can be baked, boiled, eaten as they are, or even shallow-fried. She gave me a bag full of nuts and said, "Ask Lucy to shallow fry them for you." (Lucy is one of the other helpers in the Tea-Room) By now it was getting dark, so I thought I better get up the road. Realising it was too dark for photos I said I'd pop back tomorrow to take some. I went up the road feeling so honoured that this lady had welcomed me into her home. At dinner that evening, Lucy served up shallow-fried ground nuts, along with the meal she had prepared. They were delicious!

Monday 3rd May

Today was a sort of Rest Day. I always feel the need of a proper day off after preaching the day before. But today I'm visiting Chief Binale for afternoon tea! He's asked me to come, but it's not until 4pm, so that allows me to spend the morning reading at the Tea-House. Then, in the early afternoon, I walked down to Esnat's house. This time I got the photos I wanted. John, Esnat's husband was there, so I got some nice family shots. Again I was invited in. John showed me round their home. It was very bare. It had a thatched roof - pretty to look at, but not very effective in keeping the rain out during the wet season. I saw the girl's bedroom. Like the rest of the house it had an earth floor. There was only one piece of furniture in it, a single bed, in which all three children slept. On the floor were three different coloured bin-bags. These served as 'drawers' for the children's clothes. We went into the shop and we chatted awhile, and, all too soon, I had to say my goodbyes. I felt sad to go, but was consoled by knowing I'd see Esnat at the Fisherman's Rest before I left for good on Wednesday.

When I was walking back up the road, deep in thought about the experiences I was having and the people the Lord was bringing into my life, I bumped into another person from FR - a 'chance' meeting which was to lead to one of the most wonderful experiences of my life! "Hello Sir, how are you?" It was Pelirani, a young woman I've mentioned before, who also works in the Tea-House at the Fisherman's Rest. Clearly as surprised to see me as I was to see her she wondered where I was coming back from. I told her I'd been down visiting Esnat at her home just down the road. And instantly I received another invitation. "Oh Sir, would you come to visit my home!" I said I'd like to do that, but I couldn't come just now and only had tomorrow left. "Will you come tomorrow sir?" And so I arranged to visit around 4pm, as long as I was back from a visit to Mulange that the Rev Joe was taking me on in the morning. And with that Pelirani said goodbye and continued down the hill on her way home. I turned a moment later to watch her go; she was skipping happily down the hill with all the joy and innocence of a young child. I turned and head on up the road. I felt happy too.

After I got back to FR I had a quick swim (it was a hot day!) in what now feels like my own private pool - there's never anyone there except me! Stevie and Amos come down to the FR to collect me. These men are so faithful; I'm not allowed to move without them by my side to look after me. When we get to the Chief's house his wife, Abigail, a lovely lady, has put on a lovely spread. There is nsima (obviously!) fruit (the largest bananas I've ever seen!) and, amongst tow local specialities, Cassava and ground-nuts. Cassava is a root-vegetable that has the texture of coconut and a very mild taste. The ground-nuts have been baked in the oven and are delicious! After the food and much good-natured conversation (the Chief is a bit of a joker) the Chief disappears and then returns with two walking-sticks that were made, especially, at his Cane Furniture Business. Once, soon after I arrived in Mbame, I had looked around his show-room, where we were not sitting, and I'd picked up a cane and admired it. He told me it wasn't good quality, and he'd make me one much better. And here it was. So thoughtful had he been he'd had two made, of different sizes, to make sure I got one that was just the right size. With his and his wife's help the choice was made, and I am now the proud owner of my very own, custom made, Benali Cane walking stick!

In the evening I had a farewell dinner in the Lodge with Rory and Charlotte, Rory's mum and Rachel, the young English girl who is working at the local nursery school. Later we watched a film together, 'Faith Like Potatoes', which tells the story of a farmer's struggle to keep his farm alive, and of the miracles which happened when he turned to God for help. A good way to end the day.

Another Engagement

Saturday 8th continued ...

After lunch we walked back to the main road, where, after a long wait, (I should be used to this by now) we were picked up by some elders from Kelvin's Church, who took us over to meet Mrs Tembo and the three Kelvinettes. On the way the Session Clerk told me that before we went into the church we'd join the open-air celebration, in the church grounds, which was the engagement party for their Reverend's daughter.



On arrival, I was taken to the front of a huge marquee, and sat down, in a place of pre-eminence, beside the local Reverend and his wife. There were several hundred guests present. No invitations are sent out in Malawi; it's just sort of assumed the whole village will turn up; and turn up is what they do. And now I had turned up too.

The Reverend was a lovely man, and welcomed me, a total stranger, right into the bosom of his family and their big day. It was just like a wedding celebration. Lots of dancing and music and speeches. I suppose I should have seen it coming. No sooner had I sat down and just started getting to know Kelvin's pastor when I heard the MC (a cool dude, straight out of the Rockford Files - dark skin, dark glasses, bright bling) announcing that a very special guest, a pastor, all the way from Scotland no less, a friend of Kelvin's, was here and was just coming up to address the gathered throng! You know, there are times in my life when I look around and simply wonder at the surreal nature of the twists and turns that the Lord brings into my life. And this was a belter.
So there I was, in the grounds of Kelvin's church, in front of this jubilant engagement party, at which I had been present for two minutes, and the microphone is thrust into my hands. The noise calmed down, as they awaited my words of wisdom. And what did I say? Do you know - I haven't got a clue. But when Mr Cool took the microphone back I'm pretty sure he said, "Hey there nzunga, nice one!"

I was glad to get out of the limelight and let the real proceedings of the day get back on track. Just as I was being taken away (by my hosts, not the local psychiatrist) to the church, some girls in traditional Malawian dress performed a wonderful, traditional Malawian dance. They were fantastic! The picture above is of them dancing; but, to be honest, the picture doesn't really tell the story - you had to be there. Except me, of course, because by now I was supposed to be somewhere else - Kelvin's church, which was just a few paces away.

It was great to see the people and the building Kelvin had told me so much about. When I arrived at the church there was a small gathering there of about 50 people. As I entered the building they all started singing in that typically enthusiastic Malawian way. The noise was incredible; the welcome genuine and the music rhythmic and uplifting and full of joy; and the words so familiar; "Fanana, fanana, fanana, naye Jesu" - "Make us like him; make us like Christ." It was a wonderful moment; a moment I wanted to last even longer than it did! Later I met Kelvin's family. Like the man himself his wife and children are lovely people. I also had a meeting with some elders who showed me their plans for a new church building, due to start being built very soon. The current building holds about 300 people. The new one will hold 1,500. Amazing!

Later that evening I retire to my lodgings and lay down on my bed, exhausted. My mind is full of so many things, so many people. And then I remember I need to think about a sermon for tomorrow. I spend a little while in prayer and the Lord leads me to a passage. I'm tired. I'll sleep on it and write it at breakfast tomorrow. No need to worry; the Lord won't let me, or the congregation, down. Malawi is changing me; so is the Lord. Night-night!

A Reflection on Beauty

Saturday 8th May

We've been invited to lunch at the home of someone in the church (I'm not sure who) who lives on the outskirts of Blantyre. Diana and Marquita, the two American ladies, whose company I've enjoyed often at the dinner table, are leaving this morning. When Godfrey takes them to the airport mid-morning I catch a lift with them to Blantyre. On the way we pick up Amos, my body-guard! The rest of the committee have to make their own way there.

During lunch a familiar pattern develops, one I'm getting a bit tired of; the women make and serve the food, and then are hidden away in the kitchen while we men eat. I feel more and more uncomfortable with this routine. I recently asked a woman, who had made my lunch, why the women weren't allowed to come and eat with us. She replied, "It is our tradition; we like it this way." I looked her in the eye and said, "You like it this way?" She smiled, but didn't respond.

However, during lunch today the father of the household made his daughters come out, one by one, to introduce themselves. I'm not sure if this is normal, or whether it's done because the folk here are getting the idea that I'd like to meet the women and children as well as the men. One of the young ladies caught my attention. Her sisters were shy in their introductions, but she seemed confident and self-assured. She had a lovely face, with sparkly eyes and a bubbly personality; she also spoke good English. So I grabbed my opportunity. After her brief 'hello', where she gave me her name, rank and serial number as expected, I invited her to sit down and join in the conversation. She clearly wanted to, but glanced quickly at her father. I asked if it was ok for her to stay and her father looked at her and barked, "Sit!", pretty much the way you would with a dog that was misbehaving. I looked at Regina and said, "I hope this is ok; I don't want to get her into trouble." Regina was clearly glad I had asked the girl to join us. She has tended to be the only female who eats with us. She said, "It will be ok. You are the Reverend and you have asked her to sit here, so that is fine." It may well have been fine officially, but for the first few minutes after the young woman sat down, every woman who came into the room to take plates away or whatever, her sisters included, glowered over at her disapprovingly.

It turned out that this 'girl', who I thought was about 15, was, in fact, 20! We chatted about school, which she still seemed to be finishing, and about life in Malawi. She was clearly enjoying being included alongside Regina and the men. I asked her, if it was possible, what would be the job, or the career, she hoped would open up for her. To my amazement she replied, "A truck driver!" Regina and I both burst out laughing and so did she. Dad perked up at this point and said, "We have women truck drivers in Malawi!" But what made it so funny is that the trucks she was talking about are huge; think enormous American rigs, because vehicles similar to that thunder up and down the main road through Malawi. This young lady was rather petite, and not really built to man-handle one of those monsters.

Funny as it was, it was also, perhaps, a bit sad. Was this career hope made out of a poverty of opportunity? She was intelligent and very presentable, attractive. In the West she would have so many opportunities. But here? A truck driver? Funny, but not funny.

Oh, I forgot to tell you her name; her name is Beauty, and she has been well named. I pray that the Lord will open up a way for this beautiful, intelligent, young woman, and for so many others like her in Malawi, to fulfil all of the potential that shines out from within.

Weary Women and Worried Weans

One or two folk have been asking if I'm still jet-lagged. But the good thing about going almost due south (and then due north back) is that you don't get jet-lagged because Malawi is only one hour ahead of us. Having said that, in Malawi I was working to a different timescale than usual. The folk there work in tandem with the rising and setting of the sun, getting up with the dawn about 5.30am, working in their fields until it gets dark about 6pm at night, and going to bed at 'Malawi midnight', which is 9pm in the evening! And so my body-clock is still waking me at 5am in the morning. I tried to go back to sleep when I awoke at that time this morning, but couldn't get back to sleep, so I've been up since about 6am this morning. However, I'm going to stay up really late so that Wendy and I can watch Wallander at 9 o'clock! (That man is so depressed he fair cheers me up!) But before then, let me tell you about last Friday.

Friday 30th May

Today we went to Chingalumbe Prayer House. Rory, from the FR, drives us there. Chingalumbe (for those of you who haven't been there) is north of Mbame up the main road (ok - the only road) and then you drive off into the wilds and keep going for quite a while. The dirt road is very, very rough, and I half expect the car to fall apart, Laurel and Hardy style, at any moment. On the way we pass another Prayer House, and as we do so some Mvano women come out onto the road and start singing for us. These folk are just fantastic. They've probably been waiting for us coming by for ages. We stop and get out and chat with them for a few minutes, then we're on our way again, with the ladies singing us a send-off song. Wonderful.

When we get to Chingalumbe the reception is, by Malawian standards, low key. This is probably because people don't normally get together for church at this time of day, but are just doing so to meet us, and they really need to keep working until they know we've arrived. Just across from the church some women are pumping away furiously at the bore hole, trying to get water. However, it seems that the pump isn't working properly and hardly any water is coming up. Some women have given up and resorted to the pre-bore hole routine by walking several kilometres to the river and then walking back carrying huge plastic buckets, filled with water, on their heads; and all this in baking heat. The women walk past us as we sit in the shade outside the Prayer House. It's a tough existence out here, but no-one complains. When we say hello to them they give us a big smile.

Gradually, Malawi-style, people slowly gather for the meeting. However, we're told that other folk are expected, so while we are waiting someone suggests we go for a walk through the village. At the far end of the village the view down into a valley, where another village lies below, is stunning, and worth the walk. Also stunning is the heat. An umbrella is found and I use it to shield myself from the midday sun as we head back to the church. I real feel quite the missionary as we stroll along!

Just before we started back to the church, while we were at the far end of the village, a funny thing happened that shows how unusual our visit was to the locals. Because they hardly ever see any white people some of the children we come across just stare at me, almost in disbelief. Others are clearly frightened of me. When we were looking at the wonderful view some children came a bit closer to see this strange being in their midst. I beckoned one wee boy to come over and see me. When I did so, he totally freaked and ran, screaming, in the opposite direction, for about 100 yards, before he even looked back! Children who live near the main road don't seem so scared, but they are wary. When I say 'hi' to them, often they will run away giggling, but once I'm a safe distance away, they pop back out from where they are hiding and shout 'nzunga' as I walk on. 'Nzunga' means 'white man.' These kids ain't too PC! Well, neither am I, and I think it's quite funny.

When the service finally starts the church has filled up a bit - not bad considering it's the middle of the day in a village well out into the countryside. I preach from Luke 15:1-10, on the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin. My theme is that those the world sees as unimportant, those the world would forget, they are special, valued, precious in the eyes of God. After the service we have lunch in the home of the church leader who started this Prayer House a couple of years ago. As always these folk who have very little serve up their best and I am treated as the honoured guest.

In the evening, as I am finishing my dinner at the Tea-House, Emily and Damien come round to say goodbye. They are going home tomorrow. This makes me feel kind of funny. After lunch time tomorrow I'm going to be here in this foreign land, thousands of miles from home, on my own. When I get back to my room I commit this worry to the Lord, just like I've done with all the other worries I've had while I've been out here, and, knowing that the Lord has answered each and every one of these previous prayers, I fall into bed and sleep like a baby.

The Traveller

Hi friends. That last post left me a bit down. Maybe you too. And who needs that? But that's the nature of the world we live in, isn't it? We're on a journey in this life, and sometimes the road we follow is not an easy one. So let me finish for the night (I'm definitely away this time) by leaving you with a beautiful song that will lift your spirits, I promise. It's called, 'The Traveller', is sung by Clifford T Ward, and, if you listen right to the end, you'll go to bed with hope in your heart. Goodnight, fellow travellers.

Abroad Thoughts From Home

Yes, as the title suggests, I am now back home in Scotstoun. It's a strange experience - one minute you're immersed (sorry, not a very Presbyterian word that) in a culture you are just getting to grips with and enjoying, and the next, or so it feels, you're back in the familiar, but very different, culture that you are supposed to feel at home in. But at the moment I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable, a bit mixed up. I'm home, and delighted to be reunited with Wendy and the family, but the truth is that much of my heart is still in Africa.

As I've mentioned before, one of the frustrations of my visit to Malawi was not being able to get connected to the internet very often. I really wanted to keep folk at home up to date with what I was up to. However, as far as my church friends are concerned, I won't see most of you until Sunday, so I'm going to do my best to bring you up to date today and tomorrow, before we meet.


Wednesday 5th May

Apparently Rev Joe is still down in Mulanje with his relatives, which is quite understandable. I'm disappointed I won't get to see the Tea Estate there, but it can't be helped and I didn't come here to sight-see, so I leave it with the Lord and say, "Your will be done." It is very hot this morning so I decide to put this free morning to good use - I go for a swim in the lovely pool up by the Lodge House. When I push off into the water it is the most wonderful feeling; soooo refreshing, as the cool water glides over my scorching skin - just delicious - and one of the best swims I've ever had! I stay in the pool for about 45 minutes, swimming a bit and then, every so often, propping myself up with my fore-arms on the side of the pool to soak in the stunning view, down the escarpment, towards the Shire River.

Later, in the afternoon, I walk up to Mbame in the hope of finding the 'country' route home, which Emily has told me about, which will enable me to see some more local homes and people. On my walk up the main road to Mbame I get stopped many times by locals, adults and children alike, who want me to take their photographs! It's all great fun and the children are just brilliant. Well, to cut a long story short, I fail miserably to find the 'country' road and end up back at the main road much sooner than I wanted. And when I get there, there's a great commotion going on as 4 men are involved in a fight, apparently about one man having stolen an other's money. It's not a pleasant scene, yet a large crowd gathers. The men are all drunk, and start to head my way. I begin to feel a little uncomfortable, realising that my pale skin singles me out as different and a potential focus of the approaching mob. However, at that moment, Roy, one of the elders at Mbame, appears and beckons me to join him across the road. We walk away smartly and my concerns evaporate. Roy tells me he works in forestry, is away during the week normally, but is on holiday this week so he can harvest his maize. He walks me well past his own house and escorts me safely back to the haven that is the Fisherman's Rest. He really did go the extra mile. These folk look after their guests, especially their ministers, with such great care and respect. Wonderful.

Thursday 6th May

Today is an official Rest Day for me, but as I ended up having a day off yesterday I'm keen to get out and do something. One thing I really want to do which hasn't been possible yet is to go to St Elizabeth's Hospital in Blantyre to see the children's wards where Emily worked when she stayed out here for the year. Damien has been up in Lilongwe, about 4 hours north of Mbame, since Monday, but he is due back at lunchtime. Emily has suggested that perhaps we might go to the hospital when Damien gets back with the car. I spend the morning reading at the Tea-House and Emily texts me at lunchtime to say Damien is home and they'll pick me up at 3pm to go to the hospital. I tell them they will find me at the pool, and suggest that, as the day is so hot, and they've both been working very hard, that they should come before 3 and join me for a refreshing swim before going up to Blantyre. This they do, with no further encouragement from me!

Once we are all out the pool we head up to the hospital. As we enter the building and start walking around its many corridors I remark to Dr Emily that it reminds me of the old war-time hospitals that were thrown up very quickly during WWII and which were then added to higglety-pigglety over the next 40 years or so - hospitals like Philipshill and Mearnskirk and Ballochmyle. However, such thoughtful conjecture was soon interuppted by a spectacle I have not been able to eradicate from my mind. A strange wailing sound wafted towards us from the far end of of the very long corridor we were walking down. As the noise got closer I could see that a woman was pushing a hospital trolley towards us, and behind her were about 30 other women singing mournful songs. Emily turned to Damien and me and said, "Oh no! This is a funeral coming. Quick, get in here!" And with that she ran forward and darted in to another corridor that branched off to our right. Moments later the funeral procession passed within feet of us. And there, lying on the trolley, right in front of me, was the body of a child which had just died. The body was covered, only just, by a thin cloth, which left the outline of the little body clear to behold. At a guess the child was maybe 3 years old. It all happened so quickly. Momentarily I was in a state of shock, and I felt shaken for the rest of the day. I wasn't prepared for this. And yet - what did I expect? This is Malawi, the 10th poorest country in the world, and I was approaching the children's wards of a hospital where 4 children die every single day. To be honest I felt quite sick after that.

After gathering ourselves we went into the ward. It was stuffy, warm, over-crowded and quite depressing, and not a place you'd want to stay in too long. There were children in cots and mums on the floor beside them. There weren't many smiles. To be honest I can't really remember much about it. When we were leaving I asked Emily where the Burns Unit was that she is now developing through her new initiative. She told me and then asked if I wanted to see it, to which I replied that I did. Dr Em hummed and hawed a bit, concerned for me that the sights I would see there, of young children with horrible open wounds, would be too upsetting. I said I thought I should see it, as I was very interested in Emily's project and wanted to see where it would all be happening. Damien agreed. So off we went, but with precious little enthusiasm. When we got there Dr Emily went in to the ward and asked us to wait outside for a minute. When she reappeared a few moments later she said to me, "Richard, I can't let you go in there, it would be just too much for you." And, in my heart, I know she made the right decision.

Dr Emily had some work to do, so we left her there and Damien and I headed for the supermarket to get some much needed essentials - he bought food, I bought chocolate. On the way we talked about the commitment and dedication that Damien's diminutive wife had which had enabled her to work in that less than appealing environment during the year they lived in Malawi. Damien told me there had been times she thought she might not be able to carry on. But she did. Dr Emily is one of the most amazing people that I met in Malawi.

Just thinking back to that day, reliving it, has made me feel quite uncomfortable. I think that's enough for now. I'll write some more tomorrow.

Preaching, Presentations & Pilirani

Sunday 2nd May

This was a big day (aren't they all?) as it was the first Sunday service I was at in Mbame and I was preaching there too. The church was busy and we got a nice welcome; a bit lower key than before, but that's because we're now part of the furniture here. Damien & Emily were welcomed and Emily presented the church with the banner be brought for them. We held it up for them to see and it was clear from their response that they liked it very much.

As always the choirs sang and danced, and I doubt I would ever tire of hearing that wonderful music in church. What a blessing! The children's choir sang too, and they were just so special. When Rev Joe introduced me he asked me to say a few words. I started by saying I was now almost a Malawian (which they liked) and then I gave the reason - 'I've eaten nsima every day since I got here! (which they found very funny) Nsima is a maize-based porridge that Malawians eat at every meal and are very proud of. It is not to every westerners taste, but I have made a point of choosing it every time I am in a Malawian's home for a meal.

Later in the service I preached on 1st John 4:7-21 about loving God and loving our neighbour. I told the congregation about my wonderful wife, about how I loved her, and how she was 'the most wonderful woman in the whole world.' I then introduced a subject not talked about in Malawian society, but which, I'm afraid to say, is not uncommon, which is the abuse of wives by their husbands. I didn't want to raise this issue, but the Lord laid it clearly on my heart, so I had to be obedient. I said we also had this problem in Scotland, but we now talked about it and found it totally unacceptable. I told the women that God loved them and valued them. I told the men that violence against women was completely incompatible with being a believer; 'whoever says he loves God, but doesn't love his brother (or wife) is a liar.'

After church we went to the nearly completed manse for lunch. Damien's colleague, from Strathclyde University was with us and he presented a cheque for 610 pounds, from his mother's church, Westerton Parish Church, which was to help finish the manse. His donation was greeted with great joy. After that we went back down the road. Emily had work to do and Damien, Graeme and I went to FR and had a coffee outside and admired the view down over the escarpment to Mozambique. Wonderful! Damien then left without paying the bill. I like Emily.

Later in the afternoon I was asleep in my room when Steven, the Session Clerk, appeared and told me to 'wake up!' because some men from 'your friend's church' are here. It turned out to be the Session Clerk and two elders from Kelvin's church! They had been trying to contact Mbame church all week to find out where I was, but with no luck, so they had just got into the car and driven to Mbame to see if they could locate me. When they got there they found Steven and he brought them down to FR. The purpose of their journey was to invite me to their church next Saturday, where we will have supper together and I will meet Kelvin's wife and his three children. I, of course, said I'd be delighted to come. What a great surprise!

Monday 3rd May

At breakfast today I was served by Pilirani, a beautiful, graceful, young Malawian woman who works at the Tea-House. She asked me if we had a good service the day before. I said I had enjoyed it. She told me her mum had been there and had said that she liked 'her' minister (Pilirani's) very much, who was staying at the Fisherman's Rest, who had given a 'lovely' sermon. I was very pleased to hear this as I wasn't sure how my sermon was going to be received.

Just as I was leaving the Woodland Cottage to go for breakfast Emily appeared, coming down the path towards where I am staying. She came to say she was working at home today (just up the road at a friend's house) and would I like to come up and use her net-book as they have a good internet connection there. The blog I sent yesterday is the result. It was a relief to me to post that blog and let folk back home know what I was up to. I like Emily.

Tuesday 4th May

Today I'm sitting in a very posh hotel in Blantyre writing this post for my blog. In typical Malawian style the day's plans have not, er, gone to plan! I was supposed to be meeting Rev Joe at the Synod offices in Blantyre. Sadly, a relative of his died last night, and in Malawi the funeral takes place the very next day, so he's away down south somewhere. However, we came up to Blantyre anyway, visited the Presbytery offices, and then had a look round St Michael's Cathedral, which is built upon the site of the first Blantyre Mission Station of the 19th Century. I was supposed to be staying over at Rev Joe's home tonight, but that's cancelled, and he is supposed to be taking me to visit a Tea Estate, about an hour and a half south of Mbame, tomorrow. I'll just need to wait and see.

So, as they say, watch this space .......