The restaurant on the Ilala reminded me of some other classic restaurant experiences over here. (Going out to eat in Africa almost always provides some entertainment.) I thought I’d share some random anecdotes with you.
Nick walked into a restaurant in a large town in Tanzania (I forget where exactly) at 6:00PM.
“Could I have chicken with…”
“No!”
“Okay, could I have the chipati and”
“No!”
“ummmm”
“Sorry sir food is finished.”
The following incident took place one weekend on Cape Maclear at a fancy French restaurant.
Bert (a Dutch friend):“What’s in the herb omelet?”
Waiter: “Let me go ask the chef,” goes into the kitchen, comes back, “herbs.”
Bert: “What kind of herbs?”
Waiter: “Let me go ask the chef,” goes into the kitchen, comes back, “mixed herbs.”
Bert: “Are they fresh?”
Waiter: “Let me go ask the chef,” goes into the kitchen, comes back, “yes.”
Upon eating his omelet Bert was quite sure that the herbs came from a can.
The other day I asked for a beef burger with cheese at a restaurant in Mangochi. I was surprised to get a veggie burger, with no cheese. This was remarkable, since veggie burgers weren't on the menu.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Mulanje
4/20/07 - 4/24/07
After a brief stop at MCV, Nick and I took off to climb the Mulanje Massif (Massif refers to a large mountain mass or compact group of connected mountains).
We stayed in self catering huts for three nights, and climbed up to the top of the highest peak, 3,100m Sapitwa, which means "don't go there." The climb was definitely no joke. Not only is it tiring, you definitely fear for you're life a little at times. I decided to carry my frisbee with me, so that we could celebrate the peak in unique fashion.
The Ilala
4/16/07 - 4/18/07
On Monday night, we left Nkhata Bay aboard the Ilala steamboat. (Actually, this was after we rode a minibus, for an hour and half each way just to go to an ATM in Mzuzu, since no place takes credit cards here, and you have to carry around gangsta rolls of cash to pay for anything.)
We took the Ilala all the way down Lake Malawi to Monkey Bay, about an hour drive from Mangochi. The boat took 2 days and 2 nights, and we got to see some beautiful scenery on the way. We slept on the upper deck, (which you can see in the second picture), which was quite comfortable except when it rained, and we had to hide behind the bar. This was considered first class, and was considerably more comfortable then staying below where accomodations resembeled a floating minibus. One night, when Nick and I were getting soaked, and unable to sleep, I shouted above the storm, "First Class!"
The boat was definitely a truly African experience in other ways as well. The kitchen almost ran out of food, despite the fact that there were only 6 first class passengers. We arrived in Monkey Bay, predictably, several hours late. The main reason we were late, was that we stopped at an island called Likoma for several hours and picked up fishermen (in their boats), and later dropped them off at a remote island in the middle of nowhere for better fishing. Apparently they will return to Likoma when the rains start again. As you can see from the picture, it was quite an event picking them all up.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Nkhata Bay
4/12/07 – 4/16/07
After Livingstonia, we decided to kick back for a few days and enjoy the northern lakeshore. We stayed at a place called Mayoka Village in Nkhata Bay. It’s a cheap backpacker’s hostel, with a great bar/restaurant on a deck that hangs right over the lake.
We didn’t do a whole lot here besides lay around and go swimming, but we did go cliff jumping one day. As you can probably guess from the picture, I was scared for my life. Sadly, I can’t say that I went into the water with style and grace; my backside hurt for the next few days.
Another remarkable thing of note in Nkhata Bay was that we ran into a bunch of other Americans for the first time in Malawi. Actually, some of you might recognize one of them! Susie (second from left) and I hung out for almost a whole day before we realized that not only did we both go to BC, we had met in a NYC bar last year!! This marks the second time in my life that I’ve met someone I know in a random country, the first being Leslie Hankin (a friend from high school) at a Mexican restaurant in Dublin.
After Livingstonia, we decided to kick back for a few days and enjoy the northern lakeshore. We stayed at a place called Mayoka Village in Nkhata Bay. It’s a cheap backpacker’s hostel, with a great bar/restaurant on a deck that hangs right over the lake.
We didn’t do a whole lot here besides lay around and go swimming, but we did go cliff jumping one day. As you can probably guess from the picture, I was scared for my life. Sadly, I can’t say that I went into the water with style and grace; my backside hurt for the next few days.
Another remarkable thing of note in Nkhata Bay was that we ran into a bunch of other Americans for the first time in Malawi. Actually, some of you might recognize one of them! Susie (second from left) and I hung out for almost a whole day before we realized that not only did we both go to BC, we had met in a NYC bar last year!! This marks the second time in my life that I’ve met someone I know in a random country, the first being Leslie Hankin (a friend from high school) at a Mexican restaurant in Dublin.
Livingstonia
4/10/07 – 4/12/07
We had a nice brief stay in Livingstonia. It’s a town that was founded by Scottish missionaries, in honor of David Livingstone. The 19th century European architecture is certainly interesting to see in the heart of Africa. We visited the small museum, walked over to beautiful Manchewe Falls, and spent some time with our friend Emmanuel, a student at Livingstonia College that is being sponsored by MCV.
We had a nice brief stay in Livingstonia. It’s a town that was founded by Scottish missionaries, in honor of David Livingstone. The 19th century European architecture is certainly interesting to see in the heart of Africa. We visited the small museum, walked over to beautiful Manchewe Falls, and spent some time with our friend Emmanuel, a student at Livingstonia College that is being sponsored by MCV.
The little 4x4 that could
4/10/07
When we left Chelinda Lodge on Tuesday morning, we were spared the matolas and minibuses by a remarkable stroke of luck. We got a lift from my long lost cousin. Owen Brady (and he’s even from County Cavan!) and his girlfriend gave us a lift all the way to Livingstonia in their trusty little 4x4. I can’t even begin to explain how fortunate this was. Not only would we have had to do the reverse of our hop, skip, and jump, to get out of Nyika National Park, the road to Livingstonia is no picnic. I extracted an accurate description from Lonely Planet:
The road to Livingstonia turns off at Chitimba, forcing its way up the escarpment in a series of acute hairpin bends (20 to be precise – they’re numbered) with a bad road surface, steep gradients, and pretty frightening drops to add to the fun. If you’re driving it starts out well, but the wide dirt road quickly becomes a steep rutted track, only just passable with a 4WD.
When we left Chelinda Lodge on Tuesday morning, we were spared the matolas and minibuses by a remarkable stroke of luck. We got a lift from my long lost cousin. Owen Brady (and he’s even from County Cavan!) and his girlfriend gave us a lift all the way to Livingstonia in their trusty little 4x4. I can’t even begin to explain how fortunate this was. Not only would we have had to do the reverse of our hop, skip, and jump, to get out of Nyika National Park, the road to Livingstonia is no picnic. I extracted an accurate description from Lonely Planet:
The road to Livingstonia turns off at Chitimba, forcing its way up the escarpment in a series of acute hairpin bends (20 to be precise – they’re numbered) with a bad road surface, steep gradients, and pretty frightening drops to add to the fun. If you’re driving it starts out well, but the wide dirt road quickly becomes a steep rutted track, only just passable with a 4WD.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Nyika
4/7/07 – 4/10/07
Okay, so I lied a little bit in that last blog entry. We only ended up walking 8 miles (a truck eventually picked us up), and only the first 5 miles were through a hail storm.
After the storm lifted, we walked on in high spirits hoping that maybe we would see some wildlife. In the distance we spotted several animals grazing on the hillside, but couldn’t tell what they were. We decided to walk up the hill and get a closer look. The closer we got it was easy to tell. We walked right up to a herd of about 20 zebra, with some small bushbuck jumping in between them. It definitely set the theme for an amazing weekend.
Since it was my birthday, we decided to stay in the luxurious Chelinda Lodge for three nights, instead of the cheaper Chelinda Camp. We stayed in a chalet overlooking the rolling hills of the Nyika Plateau and had amazing food for breakfast lunch and dinner. They even have someone come into your chalet in the morning and light the fire while you’re still in bed!!
The luxurious accommodations certainly didn’t fit in with the rest of our budget trip.
“Did you fly or drive?” asked another guest at the lodge.
“We took a matola and then walked from the junction.”
“Shouldn’t you be staying down at the camp?”
Okay, so I lied a little bit in that last blog entry. We only ended up walking 8 miles (a truck eventually picked us up), and only the first 5 miles were through a hail storm.
After the storm lifted, we walked on in high spirits hoping that maybe we would see some wildlife. In the distance we spotted several animals grazing on the hillside, but couldn’t tell what they were. We decided to walk up the hill and get a closer look. The closer we got it was easy to tell. We walked right up to a herd of about 20 zebra, with some small bushbuck jumping in between them. It definitely set the theme for an amazing weekend.
Since it was my birthday, we decided to stay in the luxurious Chelinda Lodge for three nights, instead of the cheaper Chelinda Camp. We stayed in a chalet overlooking the rolling hills of the Nyika Plateau and had amazing food for breakfast lunch and dinner. They even have someone come into your chalet in the morning and light the fire while you’re still in bed!!
The luxurious accommodations certainly didn’t fit in with the rest of our budget trip.
“Did you fly or drive?” asked another guest at the lodge.
“We took a matola and then walked from the junction.”
“Shouldn’t you be staying down at the camp?”
We went for a hike one day, and a horse ride the next. The landscape was truly amazing. I don’t think pictures will do it justice. I’d describe it as the unsettled plains of the Midwest back in the day (not at all what you’d expect from Africa). We saw lots of zebra and 4 different kinds of antelope (eland, roan, bushbuck, and reedbuck). They let you get incredibly close, especially when you’re on horseback. We also spotted a bush pig, and various birds. Our last night there we went on a night drive in which we got to see a cerval cat, several eagle owls, and a couple jackals. Unfortunately we didn’t spot any leopards or hyenas. It was definitely a remarkable few days, despite the fact that we got caught out in two more storms.
Hop, Skip, and a Jump
4/7/07
After the Express Line to Mzuzu, I met up with Nick (who had been traveling already for a couple weeks), and it was merely a hop, skip, and a jump to Nyika National Park, where we were starting our trip.
A 1 hour minibus, 3 hour matola, and 10 mile walk through a hail storm.
After the Express Line to Mzuzu, I met up with Nick (who had been traveling already for a couple weeks), and it was merely a hop, skip, and a jump to Nyika National Park, where we were starting our trip.
A 1 hour minibus, 3 hour matola, and 10 mile walk through a hail storm.
The Express Line to Mzuzu
4/5/07 – 4/6/07
As the sun began its quick descent, I walked up to the Blantyre Bus Depot, ticket in hand. The fact that my bus was late didn’t surprise me in the least; after all, this was Africa. I was in high spirits, for I was headed north, on the express line to Mzuzu.
Shortly after 8:30 I boarded my 5:30 bus. I took an aisle seat, and attempted to stuff my bag under the school bus like bench. As we pulled out of Blantyre, I readjusted myself and attempted to get some sleep. I was in high hopes that when I woke with the sun, we would be climbing the hills of northern Malawi.
An hour later we sputtered to a halt on the side of the road. I didn’t need anyone to translate the Chichewa being spoken around me; it was clear that we were broken down. We waited for an hour or so, until an empty bus pulled up behind us. Overjoyed that help had arrived, we grabbed our bags and climbed down off our debilitated bus. We weren’t allowed to board the new bus right away. Not being able to speak Chichewa I was confused. I sought out an English speaker among my fellow passengers.
“What’s happening? Why can’t we board the new bus?” I asked.
“They are examining the buses, to see which one has a better chance of making it to Mzuzu.” He replied.
I was speechless. After a few more minutes the conductor told us to board the new bus. The normally patient Malawians, surged for the doors as if they were a herd of buffalo converging on a water hole. I fought my way on board and was able to secure my seat once again. The engine started with a roar, and we gave each other reassuring looks. Surely a vehicle with such a mighty engine would get us to Mzuzu without difficulty. As we drove on facial expressions turned from satisfaction to dismay. Our new bus roared like a lion, but it moved like a snail. With the engine roaring, we crawled north through the night. I tried to fall asleep but the engine’s grown and the lack of a head rest kept jerking me back into consciousness.
Around 2:00AM, neither fully asleep nor awake, I was jolted upright by a loud bang. As we waited on the side of the road, I once again found an English speaking passenger.
“What happened? Why are there two buses here?”
“Didn’t you see?”
“I was half asleep. I heard a bang; did we hit something?”
“We hit the other bus!”
In my exhausted semi-conscious state, this somehow didn’t even seem out of the ordinary to me. After about 15 minutes or so, we were told to re-board. We fought our way back to our seats, and the bus crawled on once again. Apparently no serious damage was caused by the collision.
At 8:30 in the morning (when we should have been arriving at our destination) we pulled into Lilongwe. Through my limited Chichewa skills I was able to ascertain that we would be stopping here for repairs. I was relieved to hear this, since our bus had been traveling at a maximum of 40 km/hr, and we were still a long way from Mzuzu. But as we pulled into the Shire Bus Yard, I was horrified by what I saw. There were dozens of buses in the yard, but not one of them was fit to travel. Their axels rested on cinderblocks, and it looked as though every usable piece had been removed from these dilapidated old buses. Rusted metal and broken glass was everywhere. Having finished a Heart of Darkness only hours before, I couldn’t help but think of Marlow, finally reaching his destination, only to see the ghastly ornaments outside Kurtz’s hut. Surely there was no hope to be found here. An hour later we got on our “fixed” bus. As we crawled out of Lilongwe it roared louder than ever.
The hours dragged on as the sun began to sink once again. All the while the noise of the engine roared as if it were coming from inside my head. In the late evening, rain began to fall, and we were dismayed to find out that our mighty snail was not a sea worthy vessel. As we squirmed this way and that to avoid the rain, I struggled to maintain my sanity. The already incomprehensible dialogue around me seemed to get more and more distant; everything was drowned out by the awful noise of the engine. What was that ghastly thing sitting next to me? Hadn’t I sat down next to an attractive young woman? Indeed perhaps the only thing that allowed me to keep my sanity at all was the mental composition of this very story.
Eventually the rain let up, and as we climbed the high hills of the north I could look out over endless seas of green. The landscape was truly fantastic. I began to think that perhaps this ride had been worth it after all. We arrived in Mzuzu around 6:00, more than 24 hours after I had arrived at the Blantyre Bus Depot. I got off the bus and walked onto the streets of Mzuzu to begin the next stage of my journey. The incessant noise of the engine droned on in my head.
As the sun began its quick descent, I walked up to the Blantyre Bus Depot, ticket in hand. The fact that my bus was late didn’t surprise me in the least; after all, this was Africa. I was in high spirits, for I was headed north, on the express line to Mzuzu.
Shortly after 8:30 I boarded my 5:30 bus. I took an aisle seat, and attempted to stuff my bag under the school bus like bench. As we pulled out of Blantyre, I readjusted myself and attempted to get some sleep. I was in high hopes that when I woke with the sun, we would be climbing the hills of northern Malawi.
An hour later we sputtered to a halt on the side of the road. I didn’t need anyone to translate the Chichewa being spoken around me; it was clear that we were broken down. We waited for an hour or so, until an empty bus pulled up behind us. Overjoyed that help had arrived, we grabbed our bags and climbed down off our debilitated bus. We weren’t allowed to board the new bus right away. Not being able to speak Chichewa I was confused. I sought out an English speaker among my fellow passengers.
“What’s happening? Why can’t we board the new bus?” I asked.
“They are examining the buses, to see which one has a better chance of making it to Mzuzu.” He replied.
I was speechless. After a few more minutes the conductor told us to board the new bus. The normally patient Malawians, surged for the doors as if they were a herd of buffalo converging on a water hole. I fought my way on board and was able to secure my seat once again. The engine started with a roar, and we gave each other reassuring looks. Surely a vehicle with such a mighty engine would get us to Mzuzu without difficulty. As we drove on facial expressions turned from satisfaction to dismay. Our new bus roared like a lion, but it moved like a snail. With the engine roaring, we crawled north through the night. I tried to fall asleep but the engine’s grown and the lack of a head rest kept jerking me back into consciousness.
Around 2:00AM, neither fully asleep nor awake, I was jolted upright by a loud bang. As we waited on the side of the road, I once again found an English speaking passenger.
“What happened? Why are there two buses here?”
“Didn’t you see?”
“I was half asleep. I heard a bang; did we hit something?”
“We hit the other bus!”
In my exhausted semi-conscious state, this somehow didn’t even seem out of the ordinary to me. After about 15 minutes or so, we were told to re-board. We fought our way back to our seats, and the bus crawled on once again. Apparently no serious damage was caused by the collision.
At 8:30 in the morning (when we should have been arriving at our destination) we pulled into Lilongwe. Through my limited Chichewa skills I was able to ascertain that we would be stopping here for repairs. I was relieved to hear this, since our bus had been traveling at a maximum of 40 km/hr, and we were still a long way from Mzuzu. But as we pulled into the Shire Bus Yard, I was horrified by what I saw. There were dozens of buses in the yard, but not one of them was fit to travel. Their axels rested on cinderblocks, and it looked as though every usable piece had been removed from these dilapidated old buses. Rusted metal and broken glass was everywhere. Having finished a Heart of Darkness only hours before, I couldn’t help but think of Marlow, finally reaching his destination, only to see the ghastly ornaments outside Kurtz’s hut. Surely there was no hope to be found here. An hour later we got on our “fixed” bus. As we crawled out of Lilongwe it roared louder than ever.
The hours dragged on as the sun began to sink once again. All the while the noise of the engine roared as if it were coming from inside my head. In the late evening, rain began to fall, and we were dismayed to find out that our mighty snail was not a sea worthy vessel. As we squirmed this way and that to avoid the rain, I struggled to maintain my sanity. The already incomprehensible dialogue around me seemed to get more and more distant; everything was drowned out by the awful noise of the engine. What was that ghastly thing sitting next to me? Hadn’t I sat down next to an attractive young woman? Indeed perhaps the only thing that allowed me to keep my sanity at all was the mental composition of this very story.
Eventually the rain let up, and as we climbed the high hills of the north I could look out over endless seas of green. The landscape was truly fantastic. I began to think that perhaps this ride had been worth it after all. We arrived in Mzuzu around 6:00, more than 24 hours after I had arrived at the Blantyre Bus Depot. I got off the bus and walked onto the streets of Mzuzu to begin the next stage of my journey. The incessant noise of the engine droned on in my head.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Audio/Video
A couple random things from life here at nyumba ya Sibale.
Faith bought the audio cassette of my favorite song here in Malawi, Gobedegobede. We then proceeded to have a dance party. This song is considerably better than the most popular song currently in Malawi, which consists of a baby repeatedly crying into a synthesizer.
The Sibales’ have a television which gets the one station available here, TV Malawi. TVM shows televangelism 90% of the time, and I never watch it. However, the other morning there was a program encouraging people to go visit a couple of random small towns in Indiana and Illinois. This, I had to watch. Who in the world is watching this and deciding that if they ever make it to America, they really need to go visit Lake Michigan. Adding to my personal amusement was the fact that they showed shots of Gurnee, IL, where my friend Sarah Ryndak is from, and Indiana University where some of my friends went to school.
By the way, the reason for me putting up a bagillion entries today, is that I'll be out of touch for the next couple weeks on a trip up to northern Malawi.
Salini Bwino
Faith bought the audio cassette of my favorite song here in Malawi, Gobedegobede. We then proceeded to have a dance party. This song is considerably better than the most popular song currently in Malawi, which consists of a baby repeatedly crying into a synthesizer.
The Sibales’ have a television which gets the one station available here, TV Malawi. TVM shows televangelism 90% of the time, and I never watch it. However, the other morning there was a program encouraging people to go visit a couple of random small towns in Indiana and Illinois. This, I had to watch. Who in the world is watching this and deciding that if they ever make it to America, they really need to go visit Lake Michigan. Adding to my personal amusement was the fact that they showed shots of Gurnee, IL, where my friend Sarah Ryndak is from, and Indiana University where some of my friends went to school.
By the way, the reason for me putting up a bagillion entries today, is that I'll be out of touch for the next couple weeks on a trip up to northern Malawi.
Salini Bwino
Mmm, mmm good.
A typical lunch here in Malawi, nsima and ndiwo. The nsima is the white lump of paste made from Maize. Ndiwo is anything that goes with nsima, in this case, Chambo from Lake Malawi, and pumpkin leaves. (I'll be honest, this is not one of the meals which I have learned to love.)
Cultural Diversity
Meet, Mazinda, Sahar, Tania, and Tamana, students at Gracious Private Secondary School. They moved here recently from Afghanistan with their mother and father. Their father Ayuby, works for Solace International (solaceinternational.org), an American NGO that was helping to create girls schools in Afghanistan. They moved here to get away from the obvious dangers they were facing back home. Their father is continuing to work for Solace which helps support various projects at MCV.
Solace Cyber Café
The Solace Cyber Café opened up a couple weeks ago in the MCV library. Thanks to this project, we now have a satellite dish which provides us with much faster and more reliable Internet. The project will provide Internet free of charge to the MCV administration and school, by charging for public usage.
The Café is currently being run by a pleasant Solace employee, from Kenya, named Violet.
The Café is currently being run by a pleasant Solace employee, from Kenya, named Violet.
Calculators chapter 2
So I know it’s terrible to take pictures when kids are trying to take a test, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to show our kids here using the calculators that kids at Canandaigua Academy collected. (the old blog entry: calculators) We’re definitely grateful to have them, and can always use more if anyone wants to start up another collection.
The students using the calculators in these pictures are all Form 1s. They’re names, starting with the top going down, are Mtisunge, Atupele, and Hannah.
The students using the calculators in these pictures are all Form 1s. They’re names, starting with the top going down, are Mtisunge, Atupele, and Hannah.
The Invigilator
The last couple of days I’ve been just proctoring tests. This of course is rather boring, but the British English gives it an entertaining title: Invigilating. So now, in addition to being Sports Master, and Math Hero, I am The Invigilator. I think we need to start using this word more in the States. The invigilator sounds so much better than the proctor. (I’d rather be a character in an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie than a character in an Arthur Miller play.)
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