The lack of posts lately have been for a number of reasons. I have been fighting a whole new crop of illnesses that have left my body very weak and either a) unwilling; or b) unable to get much past the bed/seating area of my apartment. I have also had little reason to do much as the fuel crisis has extended to the point of almost complete business shutdown. As if these weren't enough to discourage me from writing/contributing to Nthano, I had a sudden and strange moment (my first I believe) of Apple product letdown. My charger for my computer, at the point where the charger connects to the computer, went kablooey. I am sure there is a more accurate term for what happened, but kablooey seems to cover it in my mind. It is thankfully "fixed" now do to a rather unsightly lump of packing tape. Any port in a storm.
After forcing myself out of bed this morning, throwing on my lions jersey and sweatpants, and taking an ill-advised look into the mirror, I slowly climbed the steps to the restaurant/porch. The weather was overcast (a sure sign we are in November) and while the breeze felt nice, it was no consolation to my gurgling, angry stomach.
When I got to the top, there were only a few tables taken (a sure sign that it was Sunday) and, as always, Makay was sitting in his favorite seat, holding an acoustic guitar. He said hello, and immediately seeing my labored response, asked what was wrong. I tried to say nothing but barely got the "n" sound out before he said bluntly "don't lie to me."
"I just don't feel well," I said, holding my hand to my stomach.
"You ate somewhere else yesterday didn't you?" he said, still gripping the guitar.
I nodded. I had eaten in town at a rather bustling restaurant.
"You had salad didn't you?" he asked, continuing the inquisition.
I nodded again. I had eaten a rather sketchy piece of chicken with wilted greens on the side.
"Ah, James. This is why you eat here. Go sit down, I will get you something."
He directed me over a seat and then left quickly, guitar still in hand.
After about ten minutes he reappeared, with a bottle of Coca-Cola and a large dinner plate filled with what looked like yellow porridge.
"Mashed potatoes and Coke," he said setting it down in front of me. "This is all you are eating today. Makay's orders."
I wasn't sure about the prospect of pop and a pile of potatoes for breakfast, but seeing little way around this as he stood in front of me, I begrudgingly dug in.
I was about halfway through the plate when he came back to check on me.
"You need to be careful here, all the time. Stomachs are funny things. Finish the whole plate, drink the coke and then rest. Later, I may allow you to eat chocolate cake."
He smiled and walked away before stopping as if suddenly realizing something, then quickly walked off towards his own room. He reemerged a few seconds later with his acoustic guitar and brought it over to where I was sitting, and then carefully placed it in the seat across from me, as if the guitar was suddenly my breakfast date.
Makay looked at my remaining potatoes, then up at me and said "When you are done eating, play. Music heals the body."
"Ah, I don't know how to play, Makay." I said apologetically.
"Sure you do. You just don't know it yet." He responded matter-of-factly.
"No, no I am quite sure. I have tried before. I was in a band, and I can play drums and piano, but the guitar...It just has never made sense to me and I can't play it at all."
"Have you ever played it in Malawi?" Makay asked, a slight smirk appearing on his face.
"Well, um, no."
"Then you don't know you don't know how to play the guitar in Malawi, do you?" Makay said as he turned and walked away, leaving me befuddled with my half-eaten plate of yellow potatoes, empty bottle of coca-cola, and a guitar.
I played that guitar for the next three hours.
