Day
25. Sun 3rd September.
Lake
of
Stars
Becky, Vicky and Sophie have decided to walk
down to Malaza village, so I
join them. It's a fair walk and we think we see a black mamba in a tree
(although the Malawians tend to think any snake, or even anything that
looks vaguely like a snake, is a black mamba.
We sit outside the local shop and drink cokes, and then the girls buy
sarongs in a little stall, then we wander back to the festival site,
and swim and play frisbee. It's all so lazy and laid back, it's
wonderful.
I am sitting on the beach chatting to a guy with a guitar when suddenly
he says, look, I think there's a fire". Sure enough, in the middle of
the lake there is what appears to be a huge plume of smoke. I am trying
to work out how a lake can be on fire, when I suddenly realise that
this is the cloud of Kungu flies that I have read about. These tiny
flies (Chaoborus edulis) hatch out in the water and then fly
in huge clouds over the lake. The clouds are so thick that fishermen
have been known to suffocate if their boat sails into them. However,
they are also considered a delicacy by the people who live near the
lake, and when the cloud moves onto the land they will catch them in
baskets and bake them into Kungu Cakes, which are highly
nutritious, allegedly tasting like caviar. The cloud does
gradually move towards the land, but sadly (or perhaps not) it lands
further down the coast and not near us, so we do not get the chance to
watch the flurry of baskets, or taste the cakes.
The music is
definitely better today, more live bands, and
mostly
African, including a group of "traditional dancers" who perform in
front of the stage accompanied by a guy with a battered accordion. The
men all seem to be wearing suits, which isn't quite what I normally
understand by traditional, but they are nevertheless very entertaining.
There is also the usual crop of bizarre and amusing characters,
including a Dutch lady called Anneke who does a wonderful dance with a
couple of rastafarians - complete strangers to her as far as I know,
and is very embarrassed to discover that I have caught her on film.
I feel that the
festival is an occasion worthy of a T-shirt, and I have
been trying to find one, but although the stalls sell
T-shirts, there
only seems to be one design available and it is pretty uninspired. Then
I spy a guy wearing a bright blue T-shirt with "Lake Of Stars 2006 - I Was There"
emblazoned upon it. I rush over and ask him where he got it and he says
he made it himself (oblivious to possible litigation for infringement
of copyright by Max Boyce!). I ask him if I can buy one and he
says he
may have one more in the car, and he will go and look. Another example
of Malawian lack of business acumen - I don't know how many he actually
made, but this is the only one I have seen at the festival. He could
have made a fortune.
The live music is outdone completely at one point by a couple of guys,
who, while I suspect they are not entirely sober, are nevertheless
extremely acrobatic and do a series of very impressive tumbles across
the front of the stage - so impressive that I decide they are worth
a video clip. 
For some unknown reason, I am
given a free T-shirt at
the bar. However it is not a Lake Of Stars design and I don't
really want it, so I give it to the girl standing next to me, who says
her boyfriend badly needs one. It turns out that they are from Ripple
Africa, a charity based at the Mwaya Beach Lodge a little
further up the Lake, and one which I had hoped to visit, but am
obviously not going to have time, so I am glad to have run into them.
She takes me to meet the rest of the group and it turns out that they have friends in Macclesfield, and visit regularly.
Mags Riordan and some of her people have also made it to the festival,
so I chat with them for a while, and then I end up with Corrina and
Elly (who has got very sunburnt and falls
asleep) and Dan and another African guy whose name I simply cannot remember. (Lucy and Helen have apparently travelled on).
I have more or less given up on the blue T-shirt, but then the guy
turns up again. He has no more in the car, but he will sell me
the one that he is wearing for (if I remember correctly) MK2500. It
seems like a good bargain for a souvenir of the festival that appears
to be entirely unique, and I accept the offer. I suspect that the
design, which as far as I can tell is ironed on, will come off after
the first wash, but what the heck.
My tummy isn't too good, and I give up around
midnight.