And then there were three.

There's something about Africa that draws folks in.

Well, there's something about living on the other side of the world, no matter whether you're in Timbuktu, Kalamazoo (yeah, yeah), or some 'stan or another. People are intrigued, perhaps just 'cause they might never again get the chance to come see how different life might be, all whilst being toured around by their wayward hosts*. Who Have Visitors! Having visitors as an expat is a Very Exciting Thing indeed. All your other expat friends get 'Visitors from Home' envy. They invite you over, and share their scintillating (and/or dangerous) tales of Life Abroad with your curious  (and increasingly nervous) guest. Your new level of normal might make them excited...Or worried. Or both. They are sure to be confused by the little things, and you fondly smile, thinking how you were never confused by that very same thing when you arrived. Oh, wait...

Shit.

(you just finally figured that thing out last week. But under no circumstances do you tell them this).

So you proceed to enthusiastically sugar coat the challenges, and highlight the oh-so-amazing. The markets! Bargaining is FUN! Poorly developed roads become an adventure, power outages 'are always romantic', communication barriers only humorous, never frustrating. And oh yes, you did just get back from another safari. Thank you for asking.

Expat life is hard.

lakeside boating, sans wind 

lakeside living. too bad about the brew.

Luckily, our First Visitor** was a bit of a local herself. Ms. Foster, born (although hardly bred) in the Cape, is more of an African than we'll ever be (slightly illegitimate passport aside). So her oh-so-tired self, fresh off a three day journey to our doorstep, was a bit less overwhelmed than the norm. And so, after we unpacked the Christmas gifts that comprised her luggage allowance, off we went to show her the sights.

serious joy. Maize just can't compete.

Oh, the places we'll go. And in so doing, we managed to head to the beautiful north, to Devon's old stomping grounds of Nkhata Bay, and beyond.

looking south at the past four hours of hiking...

to arrival at the lovely Zulunkhuni River Lodge in Ruarwe. Check this out. Seriously.

 It was fun to see Devon in this space. For the mere year he lived in Nkhata Bay, he seemed to have befriended the entire town. Most of you will understand. We had been there only fifteen minutes before someone recognized his silhouette, and cries of a David-sounding 'Devon!' echoed down the dark street near our dinner locale. I wish I was better with names, but I lost track of how many people he introduced me to. Necessitating a return trip, for sure.




His previous position working in water development with the regional district took him all over the north, by foot, bus, and motorcycle. One of these spots was Ruarwe, a remote town where our friend Rosa runs an incredible charity (Phunzira), and the home of the Zulunkhuni River Lodge. A pretty epic spot in it's own right.

Azungus! Always worth a good laugh. 

Accessible only by boat or on foot from the nearest 'town', Ruarwe can certainly be called isolated. Rosa is developing an education and health centre with sustainable energies and all sorts of other sides (permaculture, gardens, composting, HIV/AIDS education, etc. etc.), all through donation and excellent volunteerism. If you ever wanted to volunteer in Africa... This would be a good choice. She definitely makes every penny count.



Side tangent of sorts: Our journey also allowed us to push the limits of local the local kids' fascination with mzungus. The chats of 'A-zun-gu! A-zun-gu!' tend to increase in rate and volume as a tattered group of hikers enters a small village. Literally dozens of children sometimes run towards you, some looking for a high five, others waving sticks. I think they're friendly gestures....just kidding.

loving the photo finish

However, their courage can quickly turn to absolute terror if one of these oh-so-strange beasts turns the tables to play their own game...

and...Devon on the loose.

Hilarity ensues. Mostly, the chase turns into fits of giggles, and outright laughter by the adults looking on. There's usually a couple of kids, though, that must think 'alright, this is it. I'm done for', judging by the abject terror on their wee faces. Ooops. The others, often come back for more, taunting their predators to do it again. 'A-zun-gu!'

I'd be scared too. 

To be fair, this can happen just about anywhere. My recent favorite was at the local food market in Salima, where just last week we stopped in at lunch for some rice and beans. Upon leaving, we came upon a small kid standing by his mother's stall, who was probably about a year and a half. He stopped in his tracks, raised his hands beside his face, and just stared at us as his face took on more and more of a 'oh shit' look. Hands continuing to rise... expression looking ever more fearful....the poor guy was frozen in the spot as we crouched down to say Hi, greeting him in Chichewa, and reaching out to bridge the gap.... But no. Nothing was going to convince him that these two mzungus would do anything but eat him. Finally his mother, who had been giggling in the background and encouraging us to make friends with him, had to pick him up for a cuddle. And he still was not convinced.

we haven't seen Tiffany since this photo was taken. 

But usually we're all smiles.







And that's all for now, folks***. We're back at it in the office and awaiting our fresh arrival, Katrina, on tomorrow's flight. More to come...

*Note: Please don't let this turn you off visiting. We will cherish your every moment with us, and relive it thrice over. 

**Ours, but not Devon's. He's been lucky enough to host both his wonderful parents and friend Andrew on separate occasions last year. 

***We know you're shy, and that commenting on blogs can be nerdy. But please get over yourselves, and let us know how you are. This two way street is heavily biased in favour of those with fast and readily available internet...