The Really Wild Show

Animals. Because they're important, right? I'm soppy about them, I know, but I think how you treat animals, with their reliance upon your food, kindness, or grace (or lack of fear) or their reliance upon you leaving them bloody well alone (as in some cases seen below) is indicative of your view of your place in the world and the scheme of things. Hence an unashamed series of animal loving. And no, not like that.

A vulture flying high on a hike up Bear Mountain.

Why all of my clothes are covered in cat hair.

Hakuna matata...

They look so cute, and yet...

A bit fuzzy but worth it for the (estimated) three-week-old at the mama's knees.

Closure

I have just finished writing up my Malawi interview notes. It was very strange reading all these things that I had scribbled furiously, particularly as I wrote down so many truly irrelevant details. Nonetheless, it was somewhat soothing to write it down, and remember the amazing people I met and their stories.

What I found particularly interesting was, from the interviews, finding out who really stuck in my head, and who were faceless. Because despite the horrors of many of their situations, not every woman I interviewed left a strong imprint in my memory; I feel great guilt for that, but find it intriguing, nonetheless. And then there are some whose laughter stays with me - as we joked over the fact that she carried condoms in every available pocket, or about how chubby they'd got on ARVs.

In fact, one of the overwhelming memories I have of Malawi is laughter. People are basically incredible, in the depths of adversity they have the strength to laugh and joke. I loved that, and many of the women I really remember are those with whom I really laughed, deep gut-wrenching, belly laughs. There are a couple of genuine horror stories, which I cannot really share in this forum. But there are real moments of joy. Maybe that means I am not the best interviewer, that I don't get the best information out of people. Deposition training this week for my job sort of proved that. I do, however have more of a gift for connecting with people than I thought. And that's another reason why this trip was phenomenally important to me.

From left to right, Livas and Jennifer, who I interviewed, and Doreen, translator extraordinaire.

** A DISCLAIMER ** This is NOT, I repeat, NOT one of those horrendously patronising "oh my God, Africans know how to laugh" things, despite not having enough to eat. Of course they do. What my point is, that I'm not sure came across, is that I was there to find out how they had been affected by HIV, the violence in their lives, their husbands' infidelity and other wives. I wasn't expecting them to laugh with me. Further, the other interviewers and interviewees were not laughing as much... it was something about our particular interactions that brought laughter where others didn't. And that I find interesting.

G-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-reat!

One of the things I find astounding about football is that no matter how poor or tiny the settlement, a village will clear space for a pitch. So through mud-spattered glass on our bus, as we wended our way north in Brazil, you could see the muddy pitch and the clearing with dirty white goalposts. Costa Rica was the same - Sunday in Puerto Viejo, people made the effort to head out to watch the Sunday league, which they chose to do despite the beautiful beaches and snorkelling they could have visited instead. Malawi was the same. Any clear space in a village or small town was always the football pitch - you knew it before you even saw the white of the posts.

Not once did I see women playing. Not that they don't, per se, but I saw none. They do so much physical work in Malawi that I really would be surprised if they had the energy, or perhaps more likely, time for themselves is such a scarcity that it is treasured, and not to be expended on running around like idiots. I'd thought about bringing a ball with me, but thought it was perhaps too big and not necessarily appropriate. But I really, really wish I had.

This is because I'm all about women playing sport. It makes you feel powerful and positive. You begin to view your body as a tool, and consider how it works and feels, rather than how it looks. Which is not something that I think many women really get to experience outside of sport. In the gym, I only really think running or perhaps a martial art can have the same effect. This has all been spawned by the 7-a-side tournament we played today, where my team won our group but sadly lost in the semi-finals, to a great team, despite us really having the better chances - they had one good player who did two good things - scored twice. The women on our team and others were happy, confident, and it was fun. And, as the worst team in the league, we caused a few surprises, a true underdog story. No, really.

Dizzy

I am very, very, very tired. Very tired indeed.

I haven't even begun to process the experiences from the last fortnight. I thought I'd have a huge culture shock being back here but, in fact, the forty hour journey (thanks to missing our connection in London yesterday) helped to distance me from what was an extraordinary time. There's just too much to think about. So while I mull, why don't you look at a couple of photos to pass the time?