What's it Like Living in Zomba?

I called to Phyllis from our bedroom, (well it will be once we get our standard US sized queen mattress delivered, and our curtains which were modified yesterday to fit Malawi style curtain rods hung), (oh, and I almost forgot the custom mosquito net). She was sitting in the dining room, which now serves as our office, because the office furniture hasn't even been designed yet, although we kind of know what we want. You see, the dining room serves as a good location being that the dining room set is still a week away from being completed. We moved the temporary office from the living room after the last light bulb there burned out, and I'm waiting on Mosh, the hardware store owner to get back with me about the price of an eight foot ladder, (he'll have to get that delivered all the way from Blantyre, 40 kilometers away because there are no eight foot ladders in Zomba), which is needed to change all the bulbs on the wall sconces ten feet up the walls, both there and in the future dining room, which thankfully has two of the bulbs still working. We right now have been able to find two of the sixteen bulbs needed for the fixtures in both rooms at the local market, which has an ingeneous inventory and retrieval method. The first mini-hardware guy you ask, who inevitably won't have what it is you want, leaves his tiny shop totally unmanned, with you feeling somewhat obligated to perform guard duty until he returns with what may or more likely may not be what you were looking for. He'll offer it at a price you know is way too high, and you need to bargain him down. Had you only found the one who had it on your first try, you'd be getting it offered at half the price of your new-found broker/best friend. The reason we're home today is because the wells we were going to inspect will have to wait until Monday, because the dirt roads had turned to thick mud from Wednesday and Thursday's desperately needed torrential downpours. We only want to make one trip to town, (we're in the midst of our second major fuel shortage since we arrived a little over a month ago, [these can last up to a week, without a drop of petrol anywhere in town]), and that will be when Abel calls to let us know our laundry is done. He hand washes and line dries everything, and irons the shirts and tops to perfection using an iron he heats over a charcoal fire.
However I digress.
The reason I called Phyllis to begin with, was that I had spied a pair of the most exotically beautiful birds I have ever seen in my life. They are larger than a raven, crowned like an oriole, long-necked like a pheasant, and jet black; that is until they flit from one tree to another and then back. The entire underside, and the flared out tops of the feathers of their wings turn the most intense crimson red. At just the right angle, the tail feathers turn an irridescent deep, rich, purple/blue. When they turn their heads just a certain way, the black head becomes a mixture of black, and several shades of deep green. They are obviously a loyally mated pair, and will always go everywhere together. We had no idea that when the Lord called us to come work among the poorest of the poor in southern Malawi, that He would be placing us together in a beautiful mountain paradise, and able to share all of life's richness, both here and in the reality of a beautifully rhythmic, yet very harsh life below. We are together; we are home!