Yesterday I went to the mountains further south, near the border with Mozambique. There was a rural village called Dedza, where several of the huts had been turned into art and craft shops. It was fascinating to walk along the muddy track, and wander into the different buildings to see wood carvings, paper making and pottery. One house had a maize grinder on the go, spitting chaff and flour out of the hopper.
The wood carvings were mainly of elephants and crocodiles. The paper shop had paintings of giraffe and hot African scenes. In the pottery there were plates with zebra prints, cheetah paw prints and more mud huts with removable lids for your biscuits. I had to laugh at one sculpture of a four by four stuck in the mud, with a group of men heaving to release it.
Some young girls walked past, carrying firewood, they had long bundles tied up and carefully balanced on their heads. They walked with the dignity and composure of super models elsewhere in the world.
A group of boys had a goat, and were pulling it along by dragging one of its legs. It remonstrated a bit, but then started grazing happily on the plants in someone's garden.
Occasionally an overloaded bicycle would wobble past, slewing sideways in the ever present mud.
The backdrop to the village was of what looked like volcanic mountains, with pointed peaks and jagged slopes.
It all felt a long way from home.
The wood carvings were mainly of elephants and crocodiles. The paper shop had paintings of giraffe and hot African scenes. In the pottery there were plates with zebra prints, cheetah paw prints and more mud huts with removable lids for your biscuits. I had to laugh at one sculpture of a four by four stuck in the mud, with a group of men heaving to release it.
Some young girls walked past, carrying firewood, they had long bundles tied up and carefully balanced on their heads. They walked with the dignity and composure of super models elsewhere in the world.
A group of boys had a goat, and were pulling it along by dragging one of its legs. It remonstrated a bit, but then started grazing happily on the plants in someone's garden.
Occasionally an overloaded bicycle would wobble past, slewing sideways in the ever present mud.
The backdrop to the village was of what looked like volcanic mountains, with pointed peaks and jagged slopes.
It all felt a long way from home.
2 comments:
Please some more pictures….
My laptop has broken, so I can't download anything off my camera. You will have to wait until April I'm afraid! Love to all!
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