Lake Malawi is nicknamed the lake of a thousand stars because at night the fishermen head out in log canoes with paraffin lamps to cast their nets, so the lake looks like a continuance of the night sky.
Haven’t seen that sight yet, but last Sunday I got to walk the shore of Mikono beach a few miles out of town and it might have been one of the best days of my life. The white girl wandering through the beached canoes attracted the attention of the local kids who had never seen a white person before. I quickly gained a following.
Little girls poked my arms and giggled and the little boys reached out and touched my hair and then dove into the sand. “Mzungu, mzungu.” This time I didn’t mind.
All along the beach were beautiful, wet people enjoying the water. People really are the same everywhere. Black or white. African or American. Young or old, rich or poor, we all laugh when a wave sneaks up from behind. I got to sit in the sand at dusk, something I haven’t done since I left home. A little boy in hello kitty shorts attempted back flips off of a piece of driftwood, and it felt like all was well with the world.
I miss you all
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