I am sitting at the poolside at the Korea Garden Lodge (cheap hotel) in Lilongwe, listening to cheesy Country-Western Music; tomorrow I fly out and, barring a revolution in Ethiopia, should be back in Belgium next day. The Wi-fi is working pretty well so I can start writing up the happenings of the last weeks – at least make some attempt to. For a short version, here’s a little video I put together, with music by my wonderful colleague Charles Beni. If you want to know a bit more about what and who and why – read on.

Permaculture in Kasungu 2016 from David Yekutiel on Vimeo.

So, rewind about 3 weeks – the permaculture course has ended and after kicking my heels a bit in Lilongwe I head North to Kasungu with Remy. She has a little “duplex” next to the lodge in the National Park which she shares with her husband Matt who is mostly away on ant-poaching business. In the yard is a large tent which is to be my living space. Looks fine to me and it is great to be in the woodland, already some Elephants along the way, the nearby reservoir is packed with Whistling Ducks, Wattled Plovers and other water birds and Elephants come by frequently to drink and frolic in the water – it is dry season and there are almost no other water sources left in the park.

Wattled Plover

I enjoy a relaxed day of walking around, dodging Elephants, filling my lungs with the clean air and lots of interesting birds ( could that dark hawk I keep running in to on the dam be a rare Ovambo Sparrow-hawk?)

Remy’s home + tent

Next day we drive out of the park, meet up with Charles and head out to M’ndaka for a meeting with the chief, various sub-chefs and cronies, followed by a walk around the project site. All goes well but I am rather dismayed at the bleakness of the site, the deep erosion gullies I hadn’t noticed last time I was here; Charles still has 2 more meetings in town with various authorities and agencies whose permission we need so we cannot hang around. I feel I need much more time to look around and think about things and come away feeling rushed and ill prepared for tomorrow’s scheduled start of activities.

Erosion gully

Back in the park it’s back to birds and elephants; 2 bachelors play for hours in the lake while a Fish-eagle cruise over causing hundreds of Whistling Ducks to take wing, uttering the strange high-pitched calls that give them their name. Barn Swallows , newly arrived from Europe dip and weave over the water and the Hippos sprawl in an untidy heap on the far shore. In the late evening Pukku Antelopes wander down to  a  water hole below the dam between flowering Water Pear trees . The contrast to the village land is almost too much. I keep seeing those erosion gullies and trying to figure out what to do about them.

Pukku at the waterhole

I sleep badly, and next day set out on my own in Remy’s 4×4,  almost lose my way and somehow team up with Charles and get to the village and the 30 odd villagers who have turned up for an introduction to permaculture.  I pull myself together and the day goes exceedingly well: we all troop off in to the forest and discover together some basic ecosystem cycles, apply them to some ideas about water and soil management, some very good ideas come from the villagers  – diversity, mulching etc. We put some mulch on the little vegetable patch next to the bore hole. Lots of really lively discussion and and I can see many ideas are clicking. They are suitably impressed by the amount of water accumulated in a plastic bag we tied around a leafy tree branch at the start of the session ( a trick I picked up from Kristoff) and so everyone is in on the plan to plant an awful lot of trees where ever we can fit them in. I finish off with a few questions about this and that and the answers show me that there is a good understanding of what we have covered today. More than that – I have tried to solicit as much information and ideas from the villagers themselves, emphasising that this is their project, not mine or Charles’ and I feel some sense of empowerment coming from them, especially the women who are the most outspoken and energetic members of the group, as well as some of the young men. The day has gone well, but I myself am feeling drained, far from well.

I manage to drive back to the park and find my way to the camp, but am utterly exhausted, not sure I can keep this up. I feel I am way out of my comfort zone, much too far, something is going wrong. I rest. walk around a bit – birds, elephants etc. again the contrast, I feel the weight of the villagers poverty and needs, it’s all overwhelming. I take a short break watching a silly film on my laptop but again I sleep badly and in the morning I am really worried, I fear for my well-being, I doubt my ability to go on, handle the heat, the stress – I am in a mess, perhaps I have taken on something which is simply beyond me?  I walk to a spot by the waterhole , a shady glen where I feel good, at peace and ask myself what should I do? “Go Home” says my inner voice ( or something like that – inner voices are a bit tricky to interpret) and I feel a tremendous relief at the idea of removing myself from here. I hate to disappoint everyone but it seems foolish to persist on a wrong course out of pride. I go back and tell Remy and she agrees, she has sensed my distress and was quite worried.

The Shady Glen

Someone is driving to Lilongwe the next day and we decide I will go with him; not quite clear what happens after that.  I relax a bit, start feeling better and as if they sense it , Elephants start crossing my path in what seems a rather friendly manner.

Elephant and Whistling Ducks

The next day I am back in Lilongwe and trying to check out options for an early flight back to Belgium. However, being a weekend everything is shut down – airline offices, the airport, even the internet seems to be having a day off. I try different hotels and cafes I have used in the past but nowhere can I get on to any website that might give me access to my flight booking. I start to wonder if I have interpreted “Go Home” too literally, but decide to sleep on it. Next day I get a text from Remy that she is down with Malaria but if I want to fly home it’s OK. The dismissive tone hits a nerve and something in me wakes up. I am not ready to leave, not yet. I call Charles, who was quite devastated by my abrupt departure and ask him if there is a nice place to stay in Kasungu town, and if so is he willing to come and get me?

On the road to Kasungu

A couple hours later we are zooming along the M1 back to Kasungu where I will find a much more comfortable home base at the quirky/uselessly inefficient Kasungu Inn for the next 2 weeks. In some way I have come home and it was a lot closer than Belgium.

Purple-crested Turacos