Who's ready to work?

Dearest Penny,,
It has been a less exciting, yet thoroughly fulfilling week since I stopped touring the countryside in fast and furious fashion and settled down in my adopted Lilongwe for recommenced commerce. With the departure of my father the biblical rains have returned. It makes for an exciting afternoon when the phenomenally sunny morning skies suddenly show apocalyptic signs and in less than an hour you are outracing the rains on foot or plowing through flash floods by car or minibus. One particularly exciting adventure I weathered (pun), was when I was on a real estate tour as I look for a residence to make my own (instead of living out of rooms that make me think of "the hole" in prison movies). My guide, Eddie, and I were driving into one particular compound, which Eddie calls "China Fortress," when an impromptu storm hit Lilongwe. As we arrived at the compound I couldn't believe the muddy river that was flowing into the small gated community via the main entrance. The rain was falling so heavily that this downhill compound had become a fetid pool of mud and flowing water. We drove in despite the water up to the car doors but decided the house wasn't for me as my Chinese compatriots stared angrily out at the car and Odysseus-style whirlpool going on in their backyard.

I've also had the pleasure of having some of my technical brethren from Mozambique coming to instruct me on the ins and outs of operating my wood business. They will be here until Thursday, but are off to take in the Lake for the weekend. It has been a heavy-workload for the past couple of days with them poking and prodding me on everything I've missed, downplaying my little victories and lamenting the price of beer (in comparison to Mozambique).

Finally, a fun anecdote. Some of the local Rastafarians who I change money with for a better rate are serious characters. My favorite, who legally changed his name to Captain Jack Sparrow (Best Passport I have ever seen), and I were changing dollars the other day, when I told him he needs a boat to be a real captain. Cap'n Jack took this to heart and when I saw him two days later he had constructed a cardboard and newspaper sailboat that he wears around his body like a suspendered suit. Watching him cross through busy intersections in this get-up is a dream come true. I told him I'd make him a hat and then I'll take a picture and send it to all the saucy wenches I know back in the States.

Obscurum per Obscurius,
Steve-Unit