This is Janja (pronounced yan-ya). She was one of the producers making a documentary. Nathan was making the other one. Janja was so great to me! She took me out with her and Kevin or Johnny almost every day so I could learn Malawi first hand -- and watch the masters at work. Here she is at the market bargaining for a couple sarongs.

For us to be accepted in the smaller villages, we needed to wear these, as it's custom for women to cover themselves waist down in a skirt or wrap. It's a pretty conservative culture. I, for one, was delighted with this fashion requirement seeing as I've gained about 12lbs. in recent months with all the travel...er, eating I've been doing. Delia too, who is waif-ey thin came off the plane wearing comfy yoga-type stretch pants. But since they're form fitted, she said she quickly started to feel self-conscious and was happy to cover up in a sarong.

Here's Delia getting a sarong. Delia is from LA and was down there on behalf of the Kabbalah Center to lead a week-long follow-up training course for a wonderful group of teachers running the Spirituality for Kids program in Malawi. More on all of them later.

After all the bargaining, we all got our sarongs for 500 kwacha (about $3.57), which doesn't seem terribly cheap for an impoverished country. The exchange rate is 1 USD = 140 Kwacha. Philippe was telling us that Malawi is the third poorest country in the world and the 9th most expensive. I have to double check those facts to make sure I heard him right. But it sounds like that's one of the factors that makes it so hard to Raise Malawi.

The kids we saw in the villages are so sweet and so damn poor. In 1992, Malawi suffered the worst drought of the century. Then a crop failure in 2005 caused drastic food shortage and high food prices. It's really tough on families. Imagine if you're an orphan fending for yourself. Even as I write this I can't really empathize, it's so beyond my reality.

In these villages, not all the kids get to eat every day. Pretty much no one I talked to eats breakfast, and if they do get a meal or two, it tends to be a simple white maize called, Nsima (pronounced seema). I had the pleasure of trying some. Janja had a great description of it. She said, "remember when you made clay when you were a kid?" My grandma always made it for us...a little flour, little water, little food coloring.

Well Nsima is like that. Entirely tasteless. But it sits in your stomach and fills you up. The locals just love it! When they can get it, they serve it with vegetables and occassionally fish or chicken.

Philippe asked Orbit, one of the head waitstaff at the lodge where we were staying, if he would show us where he lived. Orbit -- who is the embodiment of love...no kidding, love in a body, and you totally feel it when he smiles -- hosted me, Janja and Philippe on a Sunday. His wife prepared us some nsima and fish and a homemade sauce. It was really good. We got to eat it with our hands (like Ethiopian food), which was also messy and fun. I really enjoyed the whole experience. I felt so comfortable there.

Here are some kids in his village. I love this little dude. Very sharp dresser, what with the vest and all. He was completely naked on his bottom half, but who's looking?

Orbit's house is a rental -- a small concrete structure with one main room, which the kids sleep in. Orbit and his wife sleep behind a curtain in what is basically the same room, but the curtain serves as a nice partition. They have a little area for a kitchen, also hidden by a curtain, so I can't say how big it is, but gauging from the curb, I predict it's itty bitty small. I don't know where they go to the bathroom. Probably in a facility outside.

I know only a few phrases in Chichewa (chich-ay-wah), Malawi's official language. I definitely know the brand Kuche Kuche and its slogan, "mowa, wahtu wahtu", which essentially means beer, keep it coming till the dawn.

That's Janja's phrase that pays. She was so intense when she was working, but around noon it was "mowa, wahtu wahtu!" and cigarettes.

I tried to help Janja as much as I could by distracting the swarms of children who would come running when she was filming. I had my camera with me, and that's a big deal to these guys. They are such hams. This was probably a culturally inappropriate thing, but we had some left over cheese sandwiches from lunch that we thought we could give to any hungry kids who asked. This clip shows how that went.....

BTW, you'll hear, "jumbala" a lot, which means the video camera is rolling, so these guys are no strangers to film. It calls out the Bruce Lee in most all the boys (I must have tape somewhere of that...)

They do speak a little English like, "Give me money." "Give me food." or my favorite, "Give me all your money." ... It sounds really harsh, but I think it's the translation. They're just needy and they know you "have". So they ask. I don't blame them. Then you say no and they smile and say, OK.

Anyway, here's my culturally insensitive clip that makes me feel so white, so fortune and so disconnected. As my dad just said to me after hearing some of my stories, "I guess we won the lotto when we were born here." So many privileges we take for granted....