Sweet Caroline

The pace of life is much slower here. Almost nothing goes on after dark and most of Lilongwe shuts down on Sundays. Add to that the fact that we’re still waiting to sort out the paperwork on our car and the distances between commercial areas are lengthy, dusty and not lighted in any way (read: tough to get place on foot) and you’ve got a recipe for some sitting home in the evenings.

Nathaniel and I, after a year of big changes and a hectic pace, are having a tough time getting into the slower rhythm. (It’s a good thing that we have some practice sitting on a sailboat for eight hours with nothing to do but read and stare at the waves or we’d really be climbing the walls.)

 After a busy day Saturday of visiting the market – tomatoes, beans and salt fish were abundant – and getting to know Old Town, we spent Sunday trying to get into the spirit of slower living. First, some lounging around at Annie’s Lodge, which has been our home away from home while we wait for our new house to be ready October 1^st (more on the house in subsequent posts!). Of course, Nathaniel managed to squeezle a little work in there mid-day, but we won’t count that against him ;)

Next, a walk over to an expat owned compound of shops and eateries – one of the few areas open on the day of rest and thankfully within walking distance. We’re sitting on a patio eating tasty fare with two Malawian musicians singing softly and accompanying themselves on acoustic guitars. At first they’re playing local music, but suddenly, something makes us prick up our ears. We’re already feeling a little homesick after missing out on our usual Sunday pancake breakfast and what are they playing? A light, acoustic version of Sweet Caroline!

Of course, when you dig into the story behind Sweet Caroline and the Red Sox, you realize that it was nothing more than a smart play by some sort of advertising exec who’d had good luck with the song in another stadium earlier in her career. Nonetheless, we’ve been extra-partial to the song since we heard Dave Matthews belt out an incredible rendition in Fenway Park a few summers ago and hearing it now really rings some “Oh! Boston, we miss you!” bells. We’re forced to console ourselves with a chocolate torte for dessert.

There’s actually some great jazz at Chameleon’s (a bar across the compound) in the late afternoon. They’ve got rows of lounge chairs out on the lawn and the place slowly fills with an eclectic group of expats, backpackers, families and hip Malawians. Everyone hangs around and enjoys the group’s low groove over Carlsberg Greens and Malawi Gin and tonics. I suppose it’s possible we could get used to this…

PS. Probably fewer posts once I start working, but we figured it didn't hurt to keep everyone posted (ha ha) while we have the time and the internet!