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.
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.
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