Malawi's Modest Capital

Day 52: Lilongwe, Malawi

After a late night, I slept in Monday morning. I spent much of the day lounging around the campsite – and trying to get my 1,000 kwacha back from Black William, who seemed to have skipped town. In the afternoon, a few of us went on a walk to the village with some local guides. The school, while certainly struggling, seemed better off than the school in Chitimba, where there are five teachers for over a thousand students. The Kande school even has a minimal library consisting mostly of donated secondhand books from overseas. We also visited the medical clinic, which is also in better shape than the one in Chitimba – at least this one has an intact roof.

Street scene in the village of Kande, Malawi

Grocery store in the village of Kande, Malawi

Classroom at a school in Kande, Malawi

Sign on the library door at a school in Kande, Malawi

We returned to camp in the late afternoon and lounged around in the hammocks overlooking the lake, and then we set off for a local dinner in the village. We sat outside under the stars, on mats normally used for drying cassava. The first pot that was brought out contained pumpkin soup, which was surprisingly tasty and boiling hot. The main course was simple: rice, beans, spinach, and cassava bread. The cassava bread was really more like ugali, a starchy white substance that is part of the staple diet throughout much of Africa. The rice was well cooked, but required careful chewing due to bits of gritty stone or sand that were missed when the rice was cleaned. After dinner, the children of the village sang and danced for us. As we walked back to camp afterward, the children were literally hanging onto our arms incessantly begging for water bottles, backpacks, money, anything we had on us.

Cassava drying, Kande, Malawi

A woman cooking ugali, Chitimba, Malawi

A curio shop with wood carvings, Kande Beach, Malawi

Early Tuesday morning, before our departure from Kande Beach, I walked out of the gates one last time to find Black William and get my refund for the botched fishing trip. Another local named Sisko owed $20 to a couple on the Oasis truck, Brian and Viviane, so they joined me in trying to hunt down the scammers. None of the men were anywhere to be seen, but a couple of women were working in the fields. We asked one of them where we could find Black William and Sisko, and she went into the nearby hut and fetched a guy named Sam (a.k.a. Samuel L. Jackson), who would show me to Black William's house. There were two curio shops near the gate, one of which was owned by Sisko. Sisko was absent, so Brian and Viviane asked Sam if they could take some wood carvings from the shop in exchange for the money he owed them. Sam agreed that it was fair, so they started rummaging through the shop and picked out a few items. Viviane headed back to camp with the carvings from Sisko's shop, and Brian accompanied me to Black William's house. A woman out front looked in the hut and said he was gone (surprise, surprise), so I asked if I could take something from the other curio shop in exchange for the money Black William owed me. Earlier in the day, I had been told that the second shop was owned by Black William, but Sam said it was actually owned by another guy named Neville. Receiving false answers seems to happen a lot in Africa – if you ask someone a question, they almost always answer "yes" even if they don't know the answer or don't understand the question. Even though the shop turned out not to be owned by Black William, Sam said that all the guys outside the gate help each other out and that I could take something from Neville's shop – Black William would repay Neville later. As soon as I started looking at the wood carvings in the shop, Neville appeared and said that I could not take anything because Black William was untrustworthy and would not repay him. At this point, it was obvious that I had lost out, so I left the shop and boarded the truck. At least I'm only out $6.

It was about a six hour drive to Lilongwe, the modest capital of Malawi. The city is quite attractive with its relatively clean streets and modern buildings. Before dinner, we paid a visit to the house of the British high commissioner (ambassador), whose son is an acquaintance of someone in our group. Each of us signed the official guest book and then walked through the mansion to the back veranda, where tea, scones, and cake were spread out attractively on a table. The back yard was lush green, and a croquet course was set up. I walked down to the tennis court and played for a while before going for a swim in the pool. The showers in the changing rooms by the pool were an absolute luxury – it was the first truly hot, high-pressure shower I've had for weeks. Finally, I played a bit of ping pong before heading back to the house. The American ambassador had dropped by for dinner, so we got to visit with him briefly before leaving the ambassadors to their dinner. It was fascinating to hear first-hand accounts of the issues affecting Malawi and Africa in general, and it was so refreshing to have an evening of such civility – a welcome break from weeks of camping and cold showers.

This morning, I set out with a few others for town. We ate lunch at Nando's, a South African fast food chain that specializes in chicken. The food was great, but the service was even worse than in American fast food joints, if that's possible. Once we had ordered and sat at a table, I had to repeat my order about three times and go up to the counter once or twice to ask where my meal was. I eventually got all the parts of my meal, but it was quite a hilarious ordeal to get them all. After lunch, I browsed the curio stalls by the Lilongwe post office, firmly ignoring any vendor who hassled me too much. I would say, "I'd like to look at your carvings, but if you keep bugging me, I'll buy from someone else." That seemed to work pretty well. I bargained hard for one piece, but the vendor let me walk away – even though I felt it was a fair price, he could probably get a much higher price from another tourist. You can't win them all.

This evening, we had a farewell bash for Deepa and Neerav, who are leaving the trip at this point. The 73-day trip that I am doing is split into several segments, so we occasionally lose and gain passengers when a new segment starts. Deepa and Neerav have been with us since the beginning, and we're all sad to see them go. Good luck guys!

Pig Day

Day 50: Kande Beach, Malawi

Saturday we headed south from Chitimba for Kande Beach (pronounced "candy"), stopping in Nkhata Bay to visit some roadside curio shops. Malawi is famous for intricate wood carvings – animal figurines, bowls, masks, tables, chairs, and many other things. Bartering for these souvenirs is an art, and vendors often accept items for trade – flip flops, t-shirts, old mobile phones. Although it is possible to obtain some great deals, once your shopping is done, it becomes very tiresome dealing with the constant hassle from street vendors, who always shake your hand and offer a "good price for you." Some tag alongside for long distances, striking up conversation that is only a thinly veiled sales tactic. They are ruthless in trying to force the sale of unwanted items, and after enough time in Africa, most of us have become quite callous, ignoring anyone who tries to talk to us and refusing to shake anyone's hand. As unfriendly as it feels to act this way, it is the only way to deal with the constant hassle.

Sign for campsite at Kande Beach, Malawi

We reached the camp at Kande Beach after a few hours. It is a beautiful setting on the sandy shores of Lake Malawi, the misty silhouette of mountains hugging the shoreline to the south. A rocky, tree-filled island beckons just off the coast, the only interruption to the otherwise unbroken sea of water that stretches to the horizon. Like much fresh water in Africa, Lake Malawi carries a risk of schistosomiasis, an infection caused by bilharzia parasites. However, all that is needed to guard against a possible infection is a single pill, taken within two months of exposure. It is not necessary to avoid swimming in the lake for fear of parasites – it is just as easy to become infected from showering, as campsites along Lake Malawi draw their water directly from the lake.

Lake Malawi and Kande Beach, Malawi

Outdoor seating area at Kande Beach Resort, Malawi

Yesterday was "Pig Day," a tradition with many of the overland truck tours. Early in the morning, we walked out of the camp gates to some nearby huts, where we witnessed the slaughter and preparation of our pig, which we would roast on a spit for dinner. The act retained a shadow of savagery in the forceful thrust of a knife into the squealing pig's heart, the spurting of warm blood into a bowl, and the pained last breaths of the animal as it was lowered into a shallow pit where it would be shaved. As one local villager carefully poured boiling water over the hide of the dead pig, another expertly scraped the steamed hair from the animal's skin. As brutal as these events may sound, they are a potent reminder of the source of the food we eat – we as Westerners, familiar only with our sterile plastic packaging, often forget where the meat we eat originates.

In the meantime, I sat down nearby and learned how to play bao, a Malawian board game similar to checkers. The villager who was teaching me explained that the name originates from the fact that the game is often played in the shade of a baobab tree. Of course, after learning the rules of the game, the villager immediately hassled me to buy a board. After explaining that I had already bought a game table in Chitimba that contained both bao and chess boards, the vendor then offered to write up an instruction sheet for me for only 1,000 kwacha ($6). I told him I would find the rules online.

On the short walk along a dirt path back to the camp gates, I arranged an afternoon fishing trip with one of the locals and agreed on a price of 2,000 kwacha ($12) for three of us. The man called himself Black William. All the men in Kande Beach use creative pseudonyms – Sugar and Spice, Spiderman, Samuel L. Jackson. I paid half the amount up front so Black William could purchase the fishing lines and bait. He would receive the rest after we returned from the trip. At noon, Becca, Beth, and I walked out to the beach where we were supposed to meet Black William. The trip was to last two hours – we would take a boat out to the solitary island, learn how to fish as the Malawians do, and have an opportunity to jump off the rocky cliffs into the refreshing waters of Lake Malawi. As this is Africa ("T.I.A."), Black William was an hour late and told us that he was only then going to get the supplies and prepare the boat. He told us to return at two, but we reminded him that we wanted to be back at camp by then. He said, "OK, five minutes then." After much longer than five minutes, we walked down the beach towards a little shack where some locals were sitting and asked for Black William. He finally saw us and led us towards our "boat", which was quite literally a hollowed out, knotty log. We looked with apprehension at each other but decided to give the Malawian boat a try.

Men pushing a dugout fishing boat into Lake Malawi, Kande Beach, Malawi

The sides curved up and towards the center, so it took some maneuvering to squeeze our hips past the rough wood edges and sit down. The three of us were scrunched, almost on top of each other, at the front of the log, and Black William rowed from the back. We seemed precariously balanced on the constantly surging waves as we floated towards the island. As we rocked side to side, our guide told us to balance so we wouldn't roll completely upside down. With arms outstretched like gymnasts on a balance beam, we shifted our weight to one side or the other, keenly aware of the danger of capsizing. Because it had been such a tight fit to wedge ourselves into the boat, it was a terrifying prospect to consider what would happen if we overturned. To make the situation even more alarming, water began slowly rising in the curved bottom of the boat. When we were sitting in water about eight inches deep, Black William remarked nonchalantly that we were sinking and that we should turn back because we didn't want to get into trouble. Relieved, the three of us anxiously fixated our eyes on the beach ahead, fiercely gripping the sides of the hollow log every time a wave hit us from the side and threatened to roll us over. After a few minutes, we finally reached the safety of dry land.

A man rows a dugout fishing boat on Lake Malawi, Kande Beach, Malawi

We asked if he could refund the money we had paid that morning, and he agreed. He walked off to get the money and said he would return in a few minutes. After half an hour, we were fed up, and I walked out of the camp to the side of the beach used by locals. I talked to a man who said that Black William had already spent the money on the fishing equipment and that cash was hard to come by. He suggested that we might receive something else, such as wood carvings or another excursion, in exchange. I told the man that I just wanted the money, and he replied that I should meet Black William at the camp gate at five o'clock – in three hours. I knew it was probably going to be a futile task to get the money back, but I was not going to give up. At five, I walked out of the gate and, unsurprisingly, there was no one there. I decided not to worry about it for the rest of the evening – I had the whole next day to find Black William and get my refund.

A pig roasting on a spit, Kande Beach, Malawi

Back at the truck, an adorable abandoned kitten had turned up – we named her Nudge. We mixed up some powdered milk, and she lapped it up. Nudge became our mascot for the evening, and we took turns playing with her and letting her sleep in our laps. Shortly, our pig – which we named Lady Penelope – was a nice golden color. She was removed from the spit, and dinner was served. The meat was quite fatty, and there were some unappetizing strands of black pig hair still attached to some of the chunks of meat. At least we had plenty of chips (fries) to fill up on. After dinner, we mixed up some punch and played drinking games. We soon moved to the camp bar and took Nudge with us. She lazily curled up in my lap while some of the others played a few games of pool. When it was my turn to play a game, I was appalled at the hundreds of midges – tiny flies – that swarmed around the light suspended above the table. Many had fallen onto the green felt and had been squished into a fine black mat as the pool balls rolled over them. But there's not much sense in scrutinizing the condition of an African pool table.

Outdoor seating area at Kande Beach Resort, Malawi

Outdoor bar at Kande Beach Resort, Malawi

Sunset over Lake Malawi from Kande Beach, Malawi

After I finished playing pool, I noticed that there were about five people from our group dancing on the bar. The music was blaring, and after I finished my drink, I joined in. It was great fun until eleven o'clock came and the bartender turned the music down. He would have been happy to keep it loud, but he said he would be reprimanded by his boss. We left the bar and walked down to the beach for a night swim in the lake. Making sure to keep our mouths closed, we ran through a curtain of thousands of midges that swarmed between the lampposts. Once past them, we splashed into the refreshing dark water. A silent lightning storm in the distance flashed behind the silhouette of the lonely island and occasionally brightened the star-filled sky. After our swim, four of us – Deepa, Nix, Tom, and I – ran off to the truck for a four-person truck party. We put my iPod on and music boomed out of the truck's speakers as we danced in the narrow aisle between the seats. We were having an awesome night, and the music gradually increased in volume until it was absolutely pumping across the campsite. The highlight of the evening, however, came after a string of dance tracks when we switched gears and all started singing along to "You've Got a Friend in Me" from Toy Story. I could not imagine a truck party with better friends! It was a perfect end to an amazing night, and we finally crashed around three in the morning, only minutes before rain started pouring from the night sky.

Village Life in Malawi

Day 47: Chitimba, Malawi

Yesterday evening, I lounged around the bar at Chitimba Camp late into the evening. There was a spectacularly beautiful silent lightning storm in the distance, hovering ominously over Lake Malawi. High above the storm clouds, the stars shone brilliantly, and the shimmering band of the Milky Way was clearly visible stretching across the dark African sky.

A bolt of lightning illuminates the starry night sky over Lake Malawi, Chitimba, Malawi

Today I went on a tour of the local village. We visited a primary school first, where we learned of the difficulties of funding and maintaining teachers. There are over a thousand children at this particular school – and only five teachers. Some of the classes have almost two hundred children. The current president of Malawi has reopened many of the teacher colleges that had been closed by the previous president, but the hardships faced by local communities in Malawi are intense.

Schoolgirl in a blue dress, Chitimba, Malawi

Children at the primary school in Chitimba, Malawi

A mosquito net hangs from the unfinished ceiling of a room in a medical clinic, Chitimba, Malawi

We also visited the local medical clinic, which faces similar shortages. The sole doctor at the clinic informed us that the government provides vital malaria medication and other supplies for free – the people of Malawi are among the poorest in Africa, so their lives depend on charity and government provided services. In addition to treating malaria, the clinic also provides testing and counseling for HIV and AIDS. The clinic does not have electricity and is suffering from shortages of soap and other basic sanitary supplies. The facilities reeked of urine and are quite dismal by Western standards, with exposed rafters and chickens grazing in front of the entryway. Sick patients wait to visit the doctor in an exterior corridor containing only a stone bench bathed by the brutal heat of the Malawi sun.

Our most exotic visit was to the hut of a local witch doctor. He wore a belt of rough-sounding bells and held a whistle in his mouth as he jumped and gyrated to the beat of drums. The result was a loud and energetic pandemonium of noise and movement. Afterward, he told us each our fortunes privately, speaking through a translator. Of course, the future scenarios were all ridiculously similar, with only slight variations: we all, it turns out, would live long and prosperous lives and produce many children. Still, it was all good fun.

A witch doctor sits in his hut, Chitimba, Malawi

A witch doctor blows a whistle and performs a dance as men drum in the background, Chitimba, Malawi

Hot and dripping with sweat from the intense humidity, we journeyed through fields of maize back to our campsite and at last were able to lounge lazily at the bar by the deep blue waters of Lake Malawi.

Stone Town / The Long Journey to Malawi

Day 46: Chitimba, Malawi

Monday morning we reluctantly left the white sands of Zanzibar's northwest coast for the island's main city, Stone Town. We stopped for a tour of one of Zanzibar's famous spice plantations, where we learned about the multitude of crops that have been a leading component of the island's economy for centuries. Cloves, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, vanilla – they all prosper in the warm climate, as do numerous tropical fruits like lychees, starfruits, jackfruits, pineapples, and bananas. Particularly interesting is the iodine plant, which "bleeds" the rust-colored antiseptic sap.

The fruit of the achiote tree (Bixa orellana) contains seeds that produce a red pigment, hence the plant's nickname, "lipstick tree." This specimen is from a spice plantation on the island of Zanzibar in Tanzania.

Our next stop was a grim reminder of Zanzibar's dark history of slave trading. We toured a dungeon where Arab slave traders imprisoned slaves for days without food or water to determine their strength. In a dark room that could barely contain ten of us, up to eighty slaves were piled on top of one another, the only light from two tiny slits in the thick stone walls. Those who did not succumb to disease or starvation were transferred to the adjacent slave market, where they would endure further brutal tests of their strength. A whipping post stood in the center of the square – those slaves who did not cry out or collapse when repeatedly beaten would command the highest prices. These practices were occurring in Zanzibar at the same time that the equally barbarous slave trade to the Americas was happening thousands of miles away in West Africa. Slavery was abolished in Zanzibar in the late nineteenth century, but remnants of the practice remained until the first decade of the twentieth century. At this particular site, a European missionary built a church on the former grounds of the slave market. The spot where the whipping post once stood is at the center of the altar, ensuring that the human atrocities that occurred there are never forgotten.

Historic buildings line the waterfront of Stone Town on the island of Zanzibar in Tanzania

After the sobering journey into Zanzibar's horrible past, we journeyed further to the edge of town where stone buildings met the shimmering sea. A few of us walked around the ancient streets for a while, browsing the numerous shops crammed with wooden carvings of animals and African paintings. We stopped at a picturesque Italian restaurant for some exquisite ice cream, a rare luxury in Africa. In the evening, we met up with the rest of the group for drinks at Africa House, a British colonial club that features a beautiful balcony looking over the sea. Afterward, we all walked to the nightly food market at Forodhani Gardens, where I tried some fresh octopus. The spices lent a delicious flavor, but the meat was quite tough. For dinner, we returned to the Italian restaurant for some fantastic pasta. As we walked back to our hotel, the exotic and unmistakeable sound of prayer calls resonated from the mosques and echoed throughout Stone Town.

The Majlis shisha lounge in the Africa House Hotel, Stone Town, Zanzibar, Tanzania. The building was an English colonial club from 1888 until the Zanzibar Revolution in 1964.

Boats at sunset, Stone Town, Zanzibar, Tanzania

Octopus and other delicacies at the Forodhani Gardens night food market, Stone Town, Zanzibar, Tanzania

It was an early start the next day. Waking up to my alarm before five o'clock, I wearily descended the narrow stairs to the dining area for a simple breakfast of fruit and toast. We walked to the port and took the seven o'clock ferry back to Dar es Salaam. We still had to endure an additional eight hours on the truck before finally reaching our bush camp. The evening air was sticky, and we had to use the rain cover on our tent because of intermittent rain. It was stifling inside, and I finally fell asleep to the high-pitched buzzing of mosquitoes in my ears, occasionally swatting the unwelcome intruders away.

Yesterday was an extremely long drive day, ten and a half hours to yet another bush camp – this meant no showers or toilets two nights in a row. Luckily, the night was considerably cooler, and I slept comfortably.

A market in Mbeya, Tanzania

Today we stopped in the southern Tanzanian city of Mbeya to buy some food at a local market. Then, this afternoon, after two and a half days of driving all the way across Tanzania, we finally reached Malawi. We had to make sure to use all of our Tanzanian shillings before reaching the border, as we were not allowed to take them into Malawi. Similarly, we could not obtain Malawian kwacha until we were in the country, as the government maintains tight control over their currency. Malawi is currently undergoing economic problems which have caused certain commodities such as fuel to vary in availability. I am now lounging by the shores of the vast Lake Malawi, anticipating what adventures may lie ahead in a new African country.