The second leg

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(Sat here listening to Sorry I Haven't a Clue at 8:15am. Life doesn't get better than this)

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, Nundwe. Not only did we arrive in time for the end of the football match there (ISIHAC has finished now so I can concentrate on this once more), but I also had the pleasure of turning on BBC World Service to hear the end of a very boring sounding, yet ultimately satisfying FA Cup Final. Which was nice.

(By the way, I wrote that yesterday. Now it's Friday afternoon and it's time for BBC 6music - I like this internet cafe - it's cheap, and it has headphones)

(Also, as I read this back I realise how boring much of it is, but I've written four letters in the last couple of weeks, so I'm not that excited about telling everybody about it again)

So, stayed in Nundwe for one night, and then sat through their religious leaders' workshop, which was pretty unexciting, except for the chips at lunch time. However, I did start driving again so I stayed another night - and so did Vende (though he went back first thing in the morning). Oh well. So, Vende went back to Ihalimba with Oswin, who said he needed to rest before coming back in the afternoon (how that constitutes a rest is still a mystery). I was even worse, so I spent all day reading (and finishing) a book, and then it came to the point when it was going to get dark, and I had to make a decision, and Althea turned up, complete with Pineapple, oranges, and chocolate. Can you guess which decision I made?

Unfortunately, on Tuesday I was supposed to go shopping with Mwenda, one of the teachers, for the primary school event on Saturday. I elected, however, to stay and eat chocolate. So, on Tuesday afternoon, after making tortillas that all stuck together and had to be remade, while Julia, Hannah and Althea went to teach English to the little kiddie-winkles, using a guitar, I went back to Ihalimba. With Althea and Hannah. On the way I discussed with Althea the possibility of installing a conveyor-belt and monorail transport system between the villages in our ward, and whether Tesco would be likely to invest in such a scheme.

So, we got to Ihalimba in the evening, and then went for chipsi mayai at the local mgahawa (restaurant, if it deserves such a fancy description), as we had already run out of fuel. And then (I must point out at this juncture that I was feeling much better now and had forgotten I'd been ill), we went and had some beer in the very comfy bar I'd never entered before in the middle of the village. I don't think many people ever enter it, to be quite honest, as beer costs 750/=, and ulanzi costs 50/=. No prizes for guessing where most of the locals drink.

Of course, all this indulgence was excused by the fact that we were "making up for Althea missing her school prom". We met the owner of the bar, and he told us all about how he wanted to start an IGP group (Income Generation Project) for his five wives, by buying an ox to plough the fields. Fine apart from the fact that it was all clearly for his benefit rather than his wives', and that it was going to cost 100,000/=, more than 3 times the size of the largest permitted IGP. And then he fell asleep, but not before proposing to Hannah.

We took our last beers back to the house with us, and then played cards, before going to bed. Unfortunately, Althea hadn't brought her sleeping bag, so she had my proper sleeping bag, while I used my sheet sleeping bag. Then she got up in the middle of the night and knocked a pan of boiled water over, searching for a jumper, because she was cold. Cold? Cold?! I just wasn't buying the old "San Francisco is a Mediterranean climate" line. I was under a sheet, and she was telling me my sleeping bag was crap - I was bloody freezing!

So, after a night's lack of sleep, I started driving again, and Vende took Hannah back to Nundwe on the bike.

(In a different internet cafe now - got a bit fed up of emailing before)

So, it was just Althea and me and my bowels left in Ihalimba most of the day, and I had a very nice surprise in store. We couldn't be bothered cooking properly, so I thought we'd use the cup-a-soup from the last food parcel from home (can't remember if I'd mentioned that before - but the jaffa cakes were exceedingly good). So, we opened the box, and I discovered that it was not only soup, but also contained eight sachets of belgian hotchocolate powder. And there was much rejoicing. Mmm, soup, hot chocolate and we made lemonade too, so it turned out to be a very liquid day in more ways than one. Did pretty much nothing else all day, apart from writing a silly letter to a non-specific "Althea's friend", which also included our theories on the potential of a futuristic transport system for the local area.

Althea went back to Nundwe that day, and then I spent all of Thursday feeling even worse than before. Hoorah. So, still no participation from me in the event day, and Vende was running round like a madman making sure things were getting done. Suddenly, though, our previously useless waste-of-space of a CAG sprang to life and from now on my opinion of them changed completely. The teachers also seemed to take up our request of helping the children come up with songs for the event - another pleasant surprise.

Friday,I was much better, and returned to Nundwe yet again to haggle over the cost of the PA system, and to find out if the potatoes were ready. I was very happy to be part of the preparations of the event at last, although I had to wait a while during Nundwe's guest speaker day in school. They had a headmaster from another school (who had previously had SPW volunteers) who spoke about child rights, and he was very good.

When it came to the PA system, it became clear that haggling is a strange phenomenon, the mechanics of which refuse to make sense to me. The last time Vende was in Nundwe, he had haggled the man down to 8000/=, from 10000/=, but was still keen to drive the price down further. So, the man said, "Come back later, and we'll talk again." And then I came along a couple of days later, and he said, "How much do you want to pay?" So I said, "7000." And he said, "Fine." This is something that recurs time and time again - a bizarre ritual where you have to get within reach of an agreed price, and then leave, and then come back
again. It just doesn't make sense.

So, I eventually returned to Ihalimba the same day, with not only an agreement on the pA system, but a shedload of potatoes and Hannah. Traffic between the two villages really has been picking up. Nundwe had their teachers' workshop the day after - it was going to be the Sunday, but then the teachers decided they wanted to see the final of Nundwe's football league. It can get quite heated, and in a previous match the captain of their CAG's team (in a sense, as much representatives of SPW as the volunteers themselves) decided to start a fight, so I don't think the teachers wanted to miss any of the entertainment.

Hannah ended up going back to Nundwe first thing Saturday morning, and then we had our event. And it was really good. The CAG had built the stage and decorated with kangas, and Mwenda's house was being used for the cooking, which started from early in the morning. The Guest Speaker even turned up on time (well, 45 minutes late, but that counts as "on time" in Africa), before any of the village leaders. The event ended up starting about an hour and a half late, but the school choir was warming up with their ngoma (traditional dancing) for that whole time. Everything seemed to be under control, so I assumed the important position of "official photographer" for the whole day, as I was the only person with a camera.

As the leaders arrived, one of the teachers, who was MC'ing the event, introduced them all in amusing fashion, some of them clearly relishing it, and others more than slightly embarrassed by the attention. But then something unexpected happened. In the Kamene Post newsletter from Iringa a couple of days before, the SPW staff had apologised that they hadn't been able to attend any events before the holiday (which is just starting now), so we were both very surprised when a white NGO land cruiser rolled up and Jesca and Suzy got out. And now I've run out of time. Oh poo.

See ya (wouldn't wanna be ya)

Phil :)