Paradise

You have heard me rave about the glories of Rwanda. The green that permeates everything, the frequent rain, the mild climate, pineapples whenever you so desire, a bus schedule, and people willing to help. If you visited and I inquired where you were, one of your first thoughts would be paradise. All of this land is grand and dandy, but what really is a paradise? I have been contemplating what a utopian snapshot of life is. What makes it so idyllic, so perfect? If you are a wee munchkin, it might be a summer day at the park with your mates and a monstrous birthday cake. A engineering student would agree that a day with sleep and without homework ranks at the top of the list. Me? I would like a day with people, people who speak English, people with whom a conversation is more than a formality, people who live and think the way I do.

Last week, I got my wish. On March 1st, I boarded a plane bound for Lilongwe, Malawi. Another purchase shipped me to Blantyre. Despite planning and attempts to contact friends, they were completely unaware as to where I was and I was oblivious to their cluelessness. Needless to say, my second arrival in Malawi was as disorganized as my first. But I stumbled through the door just in time for a glass of water, a stocked fridge, ten smiling faces, and open arms. I also arrived just in time to not join a conference call about my own project, but after 6 hours of sleep over the previous 60 hours, I didn't care.

Wednesday and Thursday, it was back to work, albeit volunteering at Malamulo. With a dam inspection, a roofing project, some sink faucet issues, CAD projects, and a water board account assessment, who had time for Snickers bars in Elisa's office or a trip to the movies? Friday morning dawned, earlier for some of us than others. Cristy, Elisa, Diane, and I jumped into the car and headed to Blantyre for some food, petrol, and Jonathan. With the car filled on all three accounts, we departed for Lake Malawi. The weekend plan? Read, swim, eat, sleep, repeat. And we stuck to it! Our only deviation was a kayak trip with snorkeling on Sunday. This slideshow doesn't even begin to convey the extent of our good times. (Facebook has some more pictures)



What did I take away from this excursion? It reminded me of the importance of people. People with whom you can share a cup of tea, a memory, and a laugh. People with whom you can keep a secret, divulge a struggle, and embrace after a rough day. You say that I can call you any time on any day, which is true. But your digitally reconstructed voice won't allow me to chop onions for your soup, it can't rub lotion on sunburns, nor will it let me take your mug to the kitchen. A phone call won't let me sit on your sofa, read a book, and be glad you joined me. I had impatiently waited months for interaction like this, but have now returned to live in a different paradise.