Louisiana baby!

Quick change from Africa to the South. Here's my theme song for the past few days. Overwhelmed.

Wild Africa... well almost

 Don't do safari if it's rainy season. These were my top shots. 

We had fun though.

Oh and saw some of the cast from Lion King.

Refugees

How desperate is your situation when you end up seeking refuge in Malawi? I mean were talking about one of the poorest countries in the world. Value of Kwacha went down I don’t know how much in only three months I spent there, big percentage of the population suffers from starvation and let’s not even start the HIV.

A refugee in Malawi has to have good reasons to leave ones’ country. And there’s over 20 000 reasons.  I had the privilege to visit Dzaleka refugee camp – a privilege cause at the end of the day I could leave the place. Several others can’t.

Some of the inhabitants of the camp have lived there close to 20 years. They consider it as their home as shabby as it is. Just before you reach the camp coming from Lilongwe there's a small hill with some trees and bushes. It's a cemetery for the refugees. Cause in Africa people want to be buried close to their home.

Where do men go to cry?

Though I’m not in Malawi as a clinician I get a peak, every now and then, of local hospital life. The compound is formed of too main buildings and a few smaller ones. Often in the morning one can hear loud, desperate crying that echoes from shelter that was built close to the hospital as a house of grief. Far too often a corpse is rushed there on a gernie followed my crying women. Their mourning is loud and by no means reserved. Sometimes I wonder, if they want to show their sorrow properly there and then so that they can move on with their lives as soon as possible. After a while the gathering accompanies the deceased for the last journey. Nearly always they’re ladies. Men are there mainly as drivers or play otherwise minor part.

Back home grief is often silent and somehow shameful as if emotions are to be hidden. To be strong in times of sorrow has become almost a standard.

When the former North-Korean leader died news footage showed crowds of people loudly crying after him on the streets. My heart broke as I saw them. Was it genuine or done because of fear?

I’d like to learn from Malawians on this. Cry with those who are in grief. Men included.

Girl in Lilongwe

Feeling like a hick in a big city right now. I'm not a fan of countryside living but just realized that's what I've been for the past weeks.

Lilongwe is a growing town with international dwellers. ..And that's about all I can say of it. I have a sense that the foreigners either work here or consider it a s a place to fill their stocks right on their way to visit a safari or the lake. Pretty much my strategy as well.

But it does feel good to watch TV in a long while and eat oranges. (Yeas I can be lavish.) Guess if I had friends here who knew good places to visit, would make it a whole different experience. In a way that's the case where ever you go in Malawi, or that's at least how I feel. Annoying as is can be that's also a way for people to connect. I've made good friends here thanks to needing their help and advice.

Yesterday someone asked me what I think about Malawi. My response was full of positive adjectives and none over exaggerated. Living here is not all rose pedals, but there's so much good that it helps to get through the rougher stuff.

I Heart Lake Malawi

My eyes are hurting for this beauty. 

No wonder the first missionaries tried to settle down around here.

Only downside being bilharzia, Lake Malawi is incredibly beautiful. 

Thank you God for creating it.

Fly me to the moon

This view was waiting for me couple of weeks back as I got home. 

I'm one lucky girl.

Meet my imaginary Boyfriend

It’s not easy to be a woman blah blah blah. This week I’ve read about human trafficking, domestic violence and how men in power grope very single woman they meet – just because it’s possible.

After those my own encounters seem small but nevertheless they have been from awkward to plain disgusting.  If you’re a single woman travelling around and most of the time in countries that haven’t heard of the women’s movement, you allow yourself one or two white lies.

My little white lie got big. These days it’s living a life of its own. Yep. It’s my imaginary boyfriend.

Last time today I was asked, if I’m single or not. The question came from a man who was very friendly but his motives to hear my answer were… Let’s not go there. Anyway I’ve been saved so many a times by the loveliest man in the world. (Who usually is staying in a nearby town or waits for me just around the corner.)

Meet Jayson. Lovely Brit who has even lovelier accent. He’s dark haired and has a great personality. He always laughs at my jokes and what’s even better makes me laugh. We share a passion to work in developing countries in the health sector. He is the one. And I’m not ashamed. Though if Mr. Right comes along I’m ditching Jayson.

Is it winter somewhere?

This was only two months ago.

Thank you Fia!

I met these wonderful pieces by Fia Backström last year at Stockholm's Moderna Museet. 

Guess who is missing her artsy hobbies