Tsalani bwino

I don’t think I’m very good at saying goodbye!  I find it difficult to accept that it may be the last time I see someone, until I am practically on the plane, and so I gave several people more than one goodbye hug, just to make sure.

My plane wasn’t till 1 p.m. and I had to be at Chileka airport at around 11.  So Mari and I got up at the usual time, finished off my packing and then went into work, so that I could go round and take a (really!) final leave of everyone.  I did my rounds of the admin building, catching Hugh in the process, and then went on to JP2, where I went up to say goodbye to Father John.  I peered through the glass panel in his office door, and saw that there were a lot of people in there, so started to walk away again, but he came running after me, and asked if I wanted to say good bye to everyone.  So I went into the office and had a communal farewell of the JP2 team, before saying goodbye to Father John in the corridor.

I was struck by the warmth of the good wishes I received from everyone, from the Director to the security guards, and how everyone wanted to know when I would be coming back again.  I kept finding myself saying I would really like to, and might manage it if Mari stays till May.

Mari and I then decided to escape to the Mount Soche for coffee, where we spent an hour or so, before driving on to the airport.  We were stopped by a police road block on the way, but escaped without a fine.  We got right through my trip without any difficulties, I think partly because of the novelty of 2 middle-aged azungu ladies (or 4 for that matter when we were travelling with Lin and Amanda) and the fact that we smiled sweetly and did our best to greet them in Chichewa each time.

I was reflecting, as we drove along, how strange Blantyre had seemed on the drive in from the airport, only a few weeks before, and how parts of the road had now become quite familiar.  We passed the architect’s football house, and the Carlsberg sign where you turn off to go to the house where they make soap.  I recognised some of the shop names that had amused me when I first arrived.  I wondered if I would find it strange to be home, with so many cars, and so many white people! 

Mari waited with me at the airport until the inbound plane arrived, and then, after a somewhat emotional farewell, I went through the passengers only door, and in through the passport check.  The woman checked my purse, to make sure I didn’t have too many kwatcha with me, and then I went through a crowded room and onto the tarmac to identify my luggage by pointing at it, following which they put it on the trolley to load on the plane.

The journey itself was relatively uneventful.  I think I got my culture shock out of the way at Johannesburg airport, which is very glitzy.  I sat in a corner with my book, and when I had finished that, I amused myself by texting my sister as my phone worked fine in South Africa, and the free texts (after the first 4) offer, seemed to apply in Africa (although not to texts to England).

My head was very busy trying to make sense of the last few weeks, and I didn’t sleep much at all on the plane to England, so I was happy to arrive, and find Jane waiting for me when I came out.  Home at last!