Malawian Travel Experience

local warriors

As I have been staying in this sweet little village on the Lake Malawi for more than two weeks now, there are a few things to put up with.

First of all, there are no shops here, just small village stalls that sell the odd thing they grow in the garden or that they bought in the supermarket. So you can get soft drinks, water, biscuits, soap or washing powder, and of course beer and cigarettes. There are even shops that sell clothes and shoes, but as I said, just open stalls and the variety is restricted.

Second and bigger problem is that you can't get money here, because there is no bank. To go to the bank, you have to go to Mangochi, around 70 km from here. I have done the trip three times now and it has always been and adventure!

First time was with a bunch of locals (they all went to the bank, too or had to pay their electricity bill which has to be done at the company itself). So we went there and I was really happy that I got this trip, because going by local minibus is quite complicated. What I didn't know is that going by private lift can be even more complicated.

The way to Mangochi went smoothly and although I did not get money from the ATM and got some money in the end, but it took more then an hour. (Bank staff abuses power here like all the African border officials or civil servants in Germany). Then the car needed a new back window, or let's say a back window, because there wasn't any and it was real dusty on the road. But obviously this window had to be "organised"... Around two more hours... I was waiting in the heat. Then two of them wanted lunch (it was around three o'clock by then.

And then eventually we could go back.

But now these guys started to drink beer, that is, they all bought two bottles at a time, went for maybe twenty minutes and then stopped again, to get more booze, including the driver. After around ten bottles of beer for the driver I got slightly worried... and tired as well, because by now it was getting dark. I didn't drink, which might seem unusual, but I didn't want to cause extra stops because I needed the toilet...

So that was a day trip...

The second trip we were promised a lift with people that had to go to Blantyre to go to the airport. When we arrived at their lodge at 8 am we found out that they had gone just to bed and that they were NOT in the state to travel. But luckily there was somebody else to go, two ladies, but they wanted breakfast first. Fair enough. Then one of them had disappeared, but we made it by 10:30 and left. The trip was fine.

On the way back we got a lift with another friend and just before the turn to the dust road to go th Cape Maclear we stopped at a petrol station, but just to clean a filter... they forgot to take petrol. So after a few kilometres and ten more locals on the pickup we ran out of petrol. We send two friends running to the petrol station, but it was closed by then (around 5:50 pm). Now it was getting dark, rain was coming and all the trucks that we stopped to suck a bit of diesel out of their tank refused to give us some.

In the end a Malawian with a brand new VX helped us, he pulled our truck back to the petrol station and gave us a lift to the next town and back to get diesel there. Very nice. By then heavy rain started, there was no window in this Landrover either, so we came back soaking wet around eight. I was so tired, but of course I didn't mind that somebody runs out of petrol :-) What I heard only the next day is that this car had run out of petrol already in the morning on their way to town. So they ran out twice the same day. I must say, I was never as bad...

Third trip to Mangochi, yesterday, started unbelievably smooth. At around 8am I got a lift by boat to Monkey Bay (lovely lake shore scenery), then I found a lift immediately afterwards which went almost up to Mangochi and then I changed trucks and this one was slow, but we made it. (Maybe I should mention, that travelling mostly means by truck. As a Mzungu, a white person, I am most often offered a seat in the front, but not always).

On the way back yesterday I went back on a regular big bus that goes by schedule (very first time on the whole trip) and this was the worst experience I have ever had! Although the bus was fairly comfortable and according to western standards. But they played the most horrible local gospel music (in Chechewa, the local language), the speakers were bad, but at top volume and the singing atrocious. I nearly went mad, felt like screaming and shouting, really miserable. And nobody else seemed to mind. And because of heavy rain the bus couldn't go and had to stop lots of time, so we took triple time. And all the windows were closed and it was really smelly on that bus. A real case for the UN Human Rights Organisation. Seriously affecting mind and body. My ears hurt, more then they ever did in a club before.

After two hours of suffering I kindly asked if they could put down the volume a bit, which they did, and I felt better for a while. But then - either they put it up again or I got used to that pitch - it became unbearable again.

I don't know if it makes sense to you, but I was so miserable and nervewrecked. I suddenly hated Malawi, all Africa and I just wanted to go home.

When I came to Maclear eventually, I couldn't even talk to anybody, I was done.

I better now, though! Cheers!