An Interview with my 5 Year Old Son

Me; If you were in charge of the world what would you do?
Him; I would buy everybody, all the persons in the world.
Me; What would you do with them?
Him; I would line them up and count how many there is.
Me; What would you then do with them?
Him; I would put them in a house and make a family, 2,3,4,5,6 in this house or maybe 7,8 in any house
Me; What would you do all day
Him; Go and see friend's and play, that's it!

Bees, A Swarm and a Baby Owl

And I am now back, NOT in South Africa melting in 44 degrees but rather experiencing the 'sunny spells' or not as the case may be back in the U.K!
Two lovely things have happened this week, a swarm of bees have moved, swarmed, clustered....(!?) in to the huge oak tree outside of our cottage and there is a small baby owl living in the eaves of next door's roof. As I opened our bathroom skylight, the small baby owl and I clocked each other. I then went to poke the kids out of the same window and the owl had vanished, as owls do.

Also, note to self; when bees are swarming, do not to say to the kids it is fine to be outside, they are just finding a home. Whilst husband shouts 'Children IN QUICKLY!'

P.S No children or bees were harmed...phew.

So my thought for the day is to look upwards, there is alot going on up there!

(the neighbour put scaffolding up and a hive next to the tree to entice them in, as yet they are not having any of it...)

Melting lap top

I am writing this in between cooking rice, laying the table and knowing that the kids haven't done their home work and its late.

Yesterday the temperature was 44 degrees and thankfully after a smattering of rain it is cooler today. The Klein Karoo, in which I live is fierce in the summer, the temperatures are much hotter than Cape Town and we slowly melt.

I am beavering away at my books, I have started on a series called Wallace and Alice, (books for children) about a rather groovy warthog and his helpful friend. I am also working on three other childrens books. Two of them are by Mary Jo from Books for Africa. It is great to be putting all the material from the Mozambique trip together.

The lap top is burning my lap, the kids are running towards the kitchen, the rice is going to over cook, my four year old son is heading towards the microwave with a jar of milk...got to dash!

Back at my desk and drawing...

I am back in South Africa having been thoroughly kissed by my family.I am now at my desk and working on pictures for the new book, books, or what ever may come out of this trip. It was the most amazing experience and I feel very blessed to have been given the opportunity.

I am now going over the photos and the pics and seeing what will fit, what will work and how I can produce some really great books.

I am also planning on writing The Mozambican Illustrated Cookbook as the food there was fantastic, so I have alot to get going on. Am going to upload a few more pics from the trip then get back to the drawing board, literally!!

Flights, fights and a moment.

So I sat on the run way at Maputo airport and we were just about to taxi and leave the country when a fight ensued between the air steward and two Portuguese passengers. It was to do with the fact that the two men, father and son I would say, wanted to move places and the air steward said 'no not now as it wasn't safe' he was in the right. Then, to my suprise the two men hurled abuse at the air steward, along the lines of 'If it wasn't for people like us you would be nothing'. It was ugly.
The air steward kept his cool, went to the captain, opened up the side door and went to throw them off. Security came in, the shyest security man I have ever seen. He actually had dread in his every step as he walked on to the plane, he sheepishly asked another passsenger what happened, then shrugged his shoulders and walked off. Everyone calmed down, the doors were shut and the two Portuguese guys behaved themselves.

I thought it was a sheer racist attack and there are always two sides to one story as by the end of the flight one of these men had befriended an African man sitting opposite him, it was as if they were best friends for years, laughing and chatting no end.

As the plane took off I had a huge surge of emotion, the moment when planes leave a place or arrives in a place, always does it for me. As if the whole trip was suddenly condensced in to that moment, and I had a good old weep. I wept for the kids I was leaving behind, I wept for the poverty of the place, I wept for racism as a whole, big globby tears fell on to my lap. And then I summoned all my thoughts together and stopped, like turning a clean page waiting for what I am to put on it.

Maputo, Motherhood and going home.

My bags are semi packed in the upstairs air conditioned room I fly back to South Africa this afternoon.

We drove through Maputo yesterday and looked at the buildings, saw where Nelson Mandela and Graca Machel have their house. I went to look at The (famous) Polana Hotel, which is unfortunately under construction. I saw their stack of cakes and goodies which make up their well known high tea. I also saw the price in dollars and swiftly moved on.

We bought vegetables at the local market and maneuvered our way through the stalls.
We sat and had lunch at a cafe and asked the waiter if he was thinking of his wife, as he completely seemed to forget every order we gave him. He laughed and said he wasn't thinking of her but continued through giggles to bring us the wrong food.

My journey has come to a close. I have a huge sense of excitement about seeing my family again, my brilliant Ant and Olive, Amari and Jahli. They have held me afloat whilst I have been away. I have kept them in a box in my mind whilst I have relished this creative freedom that ultimately keeps me sane.

This journey has been a great reminder that I need to carve out this time for myself amidst the chaos that is motherhood. Am sad to leave Mozambique but am so looking forward to the kisses that await me back home. And am also looking forward to the books that come out of this trip...

Capalanas, cookbooks and my clothes

So I feel a cookbook rising in the oven of my mind...
The food here has been delicious, I shared a recipe with Maria in the village and she shared her yukka leaves Matapa recipe and her sweet potato leaves recipe. They were delicious and for me her cooking was the tastiest food I have had on the trip, really full of flavour and healthy. The idea of walking to your garden at 4.30 am and picking the leaves of the plants that are growing, then bringing them back to wash and clean them then chop them and cook them is so different to going to the shops and buying spinach, which would be the obvious replacement. It doesn't have the same ring. But the realist in me has a word with the romantic in me. I know that this simple basic way of life can easily seem idyllic but the reality is that it springs from a deep sense of poverty and having to exist on what there is. But the romantic then has to have a word with the realist and say there is something very beautiful about being connected to the earth in such a simple way.I have these two voices chatting in my head and I feel a fine balance of the two is good.

The food here is a delicious, a mixture of African, Portuguese and Arabic. The flavours are exquisite and the food is imaginative. Coconut bread, Peri Peri Prawns, vegetable leaves mixed with onions, garlic and cashews. Coconut puddings, I can see this book on the horizon. This country, to me, is an artists heaven, there are colours everywhere. I think that a lot of the people here are highly skilled and artistic, with the weaving, the painted buildings, the capalanas. It is a really colourful place. I am pretty simple, colours really please me and sometimes I would just giggle looking at the colours of doors, houses and the advertising. Well the advertising, that needs a whole blog to itself, safe to say that Vodocom and Mcel spent alot of money on paint!

Advertisers aside, it is as if the whole country has been taken over by someone with a really good sense of humour, a good eye for colour and a big paintbrush! But to put it in perspective and to possibly ask the romantic in me to step down and let the realist chat, the whole country is also war torn and some places look like ghost towns. They look positively creepy.

As for keeping tabs on the sloppy westerner in me I had to remember to try and dress smart, especially in the villages. However my clothes could not keep up with my journey, they disintegrated, I think when I am incredibly hot I lose the sense of how my body is moving and I managed to rip most of my clothes. Perhaps this white lady was just too hot and couldn't concentrate.

I want to squeeze in a word about capalanas, the beautiful strong coloured sarong like fabrics that the woman wear. In my next life, or maybe in this life, can I please be a capalana designer? They are brilliant, creative and beautiful. So what with the beauty of this place,the capalanas and the food I feel The Illustrated Capalana Cook book brewing...