keel and coconuts.

We, all of us, have gaps in knowledge.

the coconut.
I’m from the Mid-west, landlocked, save for the outlet of shipping lanes from the Great Lakes. The only time we get palms about is at the botanical gardens, or when the bar on Oak Street Beach in Chicago buys (rents?) them for the summer to stick into the beach sand to wither and yellow in the ever-changing, brisk weather.

And I've seen your movies set on tropical islands, Hollywood. I've, myself, purchased coconuts from the grocery. I am also well aware that coconuts are not nuts, but fruit.

Having never before lived in a tropical clime, and the bulk of my movement being limited to the bushveld… I've now seen plenty of palms. Thousands. Mostly makalani (hyphaene petersiana). The stuff of palm wine and tourist trap key-chains.

Did I realize that coconuts have three layers and that what I’m accustomed to is the de-husked center? Nope. I have now encountered my first coconut-bearing palm.

And those green fruits are... Coconuts? Oh... | Cape Maclear, Lake Nyasa, Malawi

an even keel.
Keep(ing) an even keel. An occasional idiom in my repertoire.

As I mention above – I hail from land-locked country, but I’m not a complete land-lubber. I’m seaworthy to some extent… I've been aboard ocean and river ferries, canoes (dugout, canvas, and fiberglass), speedboats, yachts, kayaks galore and once, even a random shipping barge.

Sailboats (save catamarans) have a central fin on the bottom of the hull to lower their center of gravity to afford better stability and greater directional control. I've been around them countless times. I've seen models, designs, paintings, descriptions in books. I've never been aboard one though, and I've a minimal working knowledge of nautical terms.

Did I know that the fin was called the keel? Nope.
Am I relieved I've been using the idiom correctly for the past quarter century? You have no idea...

Ahoy! | Cape Maclear, Lake Nyasa, Malawi

soft drinks. hard liquor.
My childhood was spent in Indiana; the first decade of my adulthood, Chicago. In the Midwest, from where I hail, we don’t say ‘soda,’ or ‘soft drink,’ or ‘fountain drink…’ Or the Southern African ‘cool drink…’ We say ‘pop.’

And we have issues with liquor. Some Mid-western states don’t sell it on Sundays. They tell me it has to do with Jesus..

Whatever the reason for Sunday closures.. I didn't think a lot about pop, or liquor, growing up.  My parents didn't drink much alcohol (partly due to religion and preference), and I didn't much care for pop. (Unless it was made with real sugar versus the toxic-chemical-flavor-version infused with corn syrup.).

I never really put the two together. Until I saw it on a sign in the bush driving toward the lake route in Malawi. “Soft drinks + hard liquor...” Wait… Soft + hard. Non-alcoholic + alcoholic.

That only took me 29 years to master.

distractions.

I didn’t so much ditch the last half of school today.. As much as I fled.

Fridays are my favorite day of the week. Not only because of the obvious. All of my classes are within the first four periods of the day.

Which means I’m done by 9:40am. Three solid hours of work and class time, and my obligation has ended for the week. I’m free to beg off and bolt.

Today, instead of heading home, I made for the government(ish) office in my little village in the middle of the bush. They have wi-fi. Mostly, it works..

Here’s the thing about our little arrangement on my borrowing their broadband..

I refuse to sit in the office.  They offer, nicely, every time I stop by..

This is the government(ish) office where the four other persons who could be referred to as pale in my village are frequently found (well, at least three of them). They manage the cattle ranch which employs the vast majority of the population in this odd little cattle region..

Except for the clinic nurse, myself, and the other teaching staff at school (and most of the 386 learners); everyone in my village is employed by the ranch.

It might not make sense, but something just feels wrong treating those offices as if they were my own personal space, to come and go as I pleased... Even when I’m given leave to do so...

Anyway, I’m off early.

And since the internet – the real internet, not the achingly slow connection provided by my 2G USB adapter – is a rare treat, I had things to download, update, and install. Pressing things. The constantly warn you the digital apocalypse is about occur if you don’t update your operating system alerts, because you’re still working a few versions or plug-ins back.

And did I do any of that before my computer died?

Nope.

Like an impressionable child distracted by a shiny object within their field of vision, I was distracted by skype. How funny to have a video chat on the lawn as people are streaming around you. An unexpected treat for this Friday.

Sixty some days till Malawi?

Sixty days…

Lake Nyasa, Nhkata Bay, Malawi

writer's bollocks.

In trying to gather my thoughts of the holiday..

I’m having trouble tacking down the happenings.

And the men..

Paradise. Experimentation. Surprises. Long talks. Short swims. An invisible lighthouse. Mayflies. Grueling overland travel.

The long talks were up there.

Especially with the Brit.

I never knew where we were going to go with it.

But we always circled back.

Having a series of long discussions with someone with a mastery of the language is an aphrodisiac after a long lull, having had subsisted so long on stilted half conversations.

Of note.. A—, N—, C—, C—, D—, B—, A—, and even M—..

Then again, if you can transcribe everything you felt and all that happened, perhaps you were paying too much attention, and enjoying yourself too little..

This holiday definitely topped the last.

Even with the overland madness.

Nevertheless, a list of notable firsts (those I can recall, that is)...

Climbed my first fence. Ever. (Cattle gates and corrals don't count).

An ambulance ride, as a hike.

Witnessed the madness of a mayfly swarm. As J— would, and did, say, "I hate it.."

Folded to peer pressure in taxi rate negotiation.

Slept in a hostel (discounting the Belgian Nunnery – it had private rooms).

Broke a rule in blatant disregard to serious repercussions. (I’m really quite straight-laced).

Spent half a month’s pay on a party dress. Happy belated birthday to me.

Beheld thousands of years old rock paintings. (Your facsimiles were poor, Field Museum)..

Traveled through a logging area for first time. Damn non-native pine species in eerie rows.

Wild eagles up close while straddling the bow on Lake Malawi.

Broke a terrible record. Enjoyed every minute of it.. Especially evening two.
Enjoyed a plate of greens mostly every night.. (Thanks, N—).

New locales: Zambezi (Caprivi) Strip, Zambia, Malawi.

Now playing: Idlewild | Outkast … on repeat: Morris Brown…