Giraffe
Boiling point at Victoria Falls with double rainbow from Zimbabwe bridge
Zebra baby those stripes are so fabulous!
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Wildlife park Zambia and more of the falls
Giraffe
Boiling point at Victoria Falls with double rainbow from Zimbabwe bridge
Zebra baby those stripes are so fabulous!
Pictures from Victoria Falls
Victoria Falls close up
More pictures coming hopefully tomorrow. I have had internet issues again.
Zambia and Victoria Falls
Zambia and Victoria Falls Part I
The journey began very early 0500 hours when Shaibu my trusty taxi driver picked me up right on time and took me into Lilongwe and to Devil Street. (This apparently is or was the street where the prostitutes plied their trade but at this hour the only people out were the operators of the take out places who were starting their cooking fires). The bus looked fine from the outside but inside was another story. The seats were worn and dirty as was the floor and the bus was clearly made to accommodate small Japanese not big Africans. Many people had already staked out seats so I ended up about 1/3 of the way back next to a big bale of used clothing that blocked the aisle. The bus guy jammed my backpack into the overhead shelf and I sat down in the window seat but soon moved because the seat was at a funny angle and within a few minutes my back was sore. We left Lilongwe not quite full but already the aisles were blocked with luggage. When we got to Mchinji it got worse. There we picked up enough passengers and their luggage to overfill the bus. Two people were sitting on the bale, a very skinny man was in the window seat next to me thank heavens. The woman closest to me on the bale had a very large basin in her lap which as the trip progressed and she fell asleep was painfully digging into my body in various places. We went 30K to the border where everyone got out of the bus and trooped toward the Malawi Revenue and Immigration building. Once in the Immigration building we all filled out a form and had our passports stamped and were sent over to the Fiscal officer who wanted to know how many kwacha we were taking out of the country. We were informed we could only take 3000Kw out (that’s $20). Unfortunately for me I had $10,000 Kw ($66.00) in my waist belt along with $50.00 US for my Zambian visa. I actually had a lot more than this but it was in my hidden belt. The fiscal officer informed me that I could be arrested for trying to take more than allowed amount out of Malawi. I was sent to NBS forex bureau (National Bank Foreign exchange bureau) where my $10,000 Malawi Kwacha became 150,000 Zambian Kwacha. (a terrible exchange rate). Having escaped the revenue officer I headed for the Zambian immigration. The place was a mess. All the Zambians and Malawians had to write in one log book and there was a lot of pushing and shoving to get to it. Luckily I and the other non African were given a yellow form to fill out. We then went to the window where the officer took my passport and disappeared. After a long wait during which several workers took a tea break the passport reappeared and I was asked for $50.00 in US which I had. The poor Belgian girl, who was a volunteer worker, had only Euros and Zambian immigration wouldn’t take them. She was told she had to pay in USD or Zambian kwacha and was sent to get Zambian Kw for which she got a terrible exchange rate and then paid more than $50.00 in kwacha because the immigration guy gave her a bad rate on dollars. She was pretty upset and I certainly don’t blame her why should she pay in US dollars when that’s not her currency and she had perfectly good Euros. Meanwhile my passport disappeared again – after a long wait it reappeared much to my relief and I was sent on my way. The border consists of two metal gates one on the Malawi side and one on the Zambian side with about 100 ft of no man’s land in between. The bus was in no man’s land and stayed there for another hour while the Malawians and Zambians wrangled over the customs fees for the bales of clothes. At last we all piled in the bus again and drove 20Km to Chipata where most people got out again – we accomplished this feat by walking on the armrests down the aisle because the floor was packed with luggage, cookers, bales, and buckets. I am glad I have good balance. I felt worried for the 3 Poor Clare nuns in their long habits trying to negotiate out but they made it without mishap. I hoped they were praying we did not get into an accident since if we did there would be no way out.
After buying a coke so I could get small enough bills to use the pay toilet again (in Zambia it cost 1000 kw) we got back on and started the long journey through Zambia. The country is quite beautiful and seems to have more trees, rolling hills and mountains than Malawi. This part of the trip was miserable as the woman with the basin kept falling asleep and leaning her rather large self and her basin into my body and the woman sitting on the back half of the bale kept leaning her head on the back of my seat. My legs were completely wedged in and I couldn’t move them and there were boxes under all the seats so I couldn’t stretch out at all. At the next stop at least 150 km on (a town that begins with L) the skinny guy next to me got off. The large woman moved into the aisle seat and I to the window seat. I had a bit more leg room but the problem with the basin got worse and worse and my patience with it shorter and shorter. Although there were still more people than seats at least the bus was a bit less crowded and the pails that were stacked on top of other things in the aisle were left behind.
My phone stopped working at the Zambian border despite assurances that my Airtel sim card would work in Zambia. So in order to call Mary Rathert and Zambian nuns who had already been waiting an hour for me at the bus station in Lusaka, I had to use the phone of the woman sitting next to me. (the one I had grumbled about when the basin pinched me one final time). When at last we arrived in Lusaka I was so delighted to see Mary and the two Zambians that I nearly jumped out the window. Although Africans queue all the time they do not do it in an orderly fashion, consequently everyone was trying to get out of the bus at once and the young, the big, and the strong overpowered everyone. I was in the last group to get off.
I was delighted to be upright and to be at my destination. The two Zambian nuns Sr. Margaret the superior and Sr. Patricia along with my friend Mary were absolutely delightful companions for the rest of the journey. We went back to the Dominican convent in Lusaka which is on embassy row between Kenya and Ghana! I was introduced to the small Lusaka community of Zambian nuns and one elderly German. I was greeted, fed and given a lovely bedroom with a hot shower. The next morning at 0630 we were on the road to Livingstone and Victoria Falls in a dual cab truck filled with food and luggage as well as few parcels for the community in Livingstone. The sisters in Africa wear veils and I soon learned the advantages of doing so. Only once were we stopped at a police check point. The sisters also have an enormous network. When we needed a potty stop they called the convent in town and arranged for us to go there. When we needed a place for a picnic another call was made and a niece arranged to meet us and take us to her work place where we had a lovely lunch under a big tree. Of course when we arrived in Livingstone we were accommodated in the guest house of a local group of sisters.
The ride south was lovely as we passed maize, sugar cane and tobacco fields; crossed the lovely Kafue river and climbed up into some mountains. As we moved closer to Livingston it became warmer. Sr. Patricia spent a good deal of time in Livingston as a girl and knows the area well. She was raised Anglican and was baptized Catholic in St. Theresa’s church which we used as a landmark to get back to our guest house. The Livingston nuns had to come and get us to show us the way the first time as we went down a narrow roller coaster like dirt road then made a sharp turn to the right headed straight for a wall until the road turned suddenly left into the convent yard. We would never have found it alone and in fact the first time we returned there in the dark we got lost.
The next day we packed a lunch and a change of clothes and headed for the Falls. All I can say is they are spectacular. You have to experience them because they are indeed an experience not just a view. They are very wide and straddle two countries Zambia and Zimbabwe. The local people call them Mosi oa tunya which means “the smoke that thunders”. You can see the mist rising from the Falls from all over town and when you approach the Falls especially when the water is high as it is now the sound is overwhelming. As you approach the falls along the path you can glimpse portions of them but as you walk you are engulfed in mist and are soon blind and soaking wet. Occasionally the mist clears for a moment and you can glimpse another section of the falls but soon they are once again obscured. And there are rainbows everywhere you look – sometimes two or three at a time. It is a magical place and we spent hours walking around it, going up above the falls to watch the mighty Zambezi River roar over the precipice and hiking down to the river below the Falls to visit the boiling point. The boiling point is an area below the falls where there is a permanent whirlpool. From here you also have a an excellent view of the bridge and the bunge jumpers flying off of it into the Zambezi canyon. When we climbed back up to level of the Falls we went to a small park near the vendor sites to have lunch but we had to hire a man with a slingshot to keep the baboons away while we ate. When I tried to take the trash to the trash can a baboon and I got into a tug of war which I won much to the delight of the onlookers. [I think I was nuts to tussle with a baboon but I didn’t even consider that I could get hurt I just didn’t want her spreading trash all over]. After lunch we walked across the bridge into Zimbabwe but weren’t allowed to leave the bridge since we hadn’t paid for visas. The view from the bridge is spectacular with more rainbows everywhere and the mist from falls boiling out of the gap in the banks. We watched the bunge jumpers fly – some went head first others feet first and one guy with a lot of money – each jump is $140.00- went both ways.
Then we headed to a hotel Patricia knew about that had giraffes and zebras on the grounds. Visiting the animals is free but the cheapest room at the hotel is $507.00 USD and the most expensive is $2500.00 per night. There were a lot of Europeans/Americans staying in the hotel. I can only wonder how they got so rich or more likely who was paying for their stay. The first giraffe I saw strolling about the grounds was amazing I couldn’t stop watching it move about – they are so elegant and at the same time very ungainly with their long legs and necks. I took a million pictures of the zebra too because the patterns of their stripes are so interesting. The babies in particular have amazing patterns of stripes that are closer together than the adults and some of the babies were brownish rather than black. I enjoyed watching these semi tame animals but it didn’t seem right. They should have been out in forest not grazing about a posh hotel.
After the hotel we went to a restaurant on the Zambezi river to watch the sun set. The light was fabulous and there were just enough clouds to make the colors beautiful as they reflected into the water. Then we went home and made a spaghetti dinner and I learned a new trick. We made the sauce from fresh tomatoes which Sr. Patricia grated into the pan – this way she got all the tomato and no skin – pretty cool! After watching the news on Iranian TV (a truly interesting and somewhat discomfiting experience) we crashed into bed.
The next morning we were up fairly early so we could go to the museum which details the culture of the region as well as David Livingston’s first encounter with Mosi Oa Tunya. I particularly enjoyed the “village” set that went from a typical Malawian village to the new urban centers dramatically showing the change over the last 50 years. The artifacts from Livingston were also interesting but I was captivated by the art work in the courtyard. After a quick visit to the museum store we decided to go to the stalls on the main street to buy some gifts. Patricia let us know what we should buy there and what we should wait to buy in Lusaka and also helped us negotiate prices that weren’t azungu. We then went to lunch and had a GOOD pizza with real recognizable cheese. I thought I died and went to heaven. Then it was off to the wildlife reserve. There we hired a guide to ride with us and help us find the animals and find them we did – zebra, giraffe, impala, wildebeest, Cape buffalo, baboons, vervet monkeys, secretary birds, and storks. These animals were not tame and they looked like they were where they belonged. We mostly had to watch them from the car but I still got some marvelous .photos. Then we heard that there were 7 white rhinos in the park. So Sr. Patricia asked the guide how we might get to see them. To prevent poaching each rhino has a guard 24/7 and the guards know their animals and their habits so they can almost always locate them. So for a 70,000 zkw we got a second guide who had just returned from his shift of guarding and took us to see the rhino who was sound asleep under a tree. We had to walk through the bush and both Mary and I had on sandals and skirts because we dressed for the museum! However nothing was going to get in the way of our seeing the rhino so off we went praying the snakes were elsewhere and they were. He was really BIG and really asleep thank heavens – the guide said we could touch him but we demurred he was too big to take that risk looking was good enough.
We went home to dinner and got ready to go to a venue to watch a cultural dance performance, I was tired but I never can pass up dancing . The venue is a restaurant and bar with a stage that is part of a non-profit designed to support traditional Zambian arts. They teach traditional arts and sell the products as well as produce traditional Zambian dance shows using local talent. They also have a jam session for local musicians on Sunday nights. The show was excellent they told stories and performed traditional dances from the four regions of Zambia.
The next day we were up early to drive to Lusaka. The drive was beautiful and comfortable and we made excellent time so we reached Lusaka about 2 PM. This gave us time to shop in the huge city market which is like the one in Lilongwe but is at least 4 times larger. Mary and I bought some beautiful chitenges to bring home. Later we went to a cultural handicrafts place and bought a few more items. Then because I had to be at the bus station at 0430 Patricia, Mary and I went to mass at a Jesuit church that had not one single piece of African art and no music. Very disappointing. After dinner and more Iranian TV news mostly about Bahrain I was off to bed.
The bus ride back was shorter than the ride in and a lot more comfortable since they did not overfill the bus in Lusaka or anywhere else. The aisles were only semi blocked but one could get out fairly easily. The ride through Zambia was beautiful and the only really interesting thing happened around 0630 when the bus stopped in the middle of nowhere and the guys got out and stood in the tall grass at the front of the bus and peed and women squatted behind the bus. After that all potty stops were at more conventional pay toilets. I was happy to have experienced Zambia but glad to be home.
The journey began very early 0500 hours when Shaibu my trusty taxi driver picked me up right on time and took me into Lilongwe and to Devil Street. (This apparently is or was the street where the prostitutes plied their trade but at this hour the only people out were the operators of the take out places who were starting their cooking fires). The bus looked fine from the outside but inside was another story. The seats were worn and dirty as was the floor and the bus was clearly made to accommodate small Japanese not big Africans. Many people had already staked out seats so I ended up about 1/3 of the way back next to a big bale of used clothing that blocked the aisle. The bus guy jammed my backpack into the overhead shelf and I sat down in the window seat but soon moved because the seat was at a funny angle and within a few minutes my back was sore. We left Lilongwe not quite full but already the aisles were blocked with luggage. When we got to Mchinji it got worse. There we picked up enough passengers and their luggage to overfill the bus. Two people were sitting on the bale, a very skinny man was in the window seat next to me thank heavens. The woman closest to me on the bale had a very large basin in her lap which as the trip progressed and she fell asleep was painfully digging into my body in various places. We went 30K to the border where everyone got out of the bus and trooped toward the Malawi Revenue and Immigration building. Once in the Immigration building we all filled out a form and had our passports stamped and were sent over to the Fiscal officer who wanted to know how many kwacha we were taking out of the country. We were informed we could only take 3000Kw out (that’s $20). Unfortunately for me I had $10,000 Kw ($66.00) in my waist belt along with $50.00 US for my Zambian visa. I actually had a lot more than this but it was in my hidden belt. The fiscal officer informed me that I could be arrested for trying to take more than allowed amount out of Malawi. I was sent to NBS forex bureau (National Bank Foreign exchange bureau) where my $10,000 Malawi Kwacha became 150,000 Zambian Kwacha. (a terrible exchange rate). Having escaped the revenue officer I headed for the Zambian immigration. The place was a mess. All the Zambians and Malawians had to write in one log book and there was a lot of pushing and shoving to get to it. Luckily I and the other non African were given a yellow form to fill out. We then went to the window where the officer took my passport and disappeared. After a long wait during which several workers took a tea break the passport reappeared and I was asked for $50.00 in US which I had. The poor Belgian girl, who was a volunteer worker, had only Euros and Zambian immigration wouldn’t take them. She was told she had to pay in USD or Zambian kwacha and was sent to get Zambian Kw for which she got a terrible exchange rate and then paid more than $50.00 in kwacha because the immigration guy gave her a bad rate on dollars. She was pretty upset and I certainly don’t blame her why should she pay in US dollars when that’s not her currency and she had perfectly good Euros. Meanwhile my passport disappeared again – after a long wait it reappeared much to my relief and I was sent on my way. The border consists of two metal gates one on the Malawi side and one on the Zambian side with about 100 ft of no man’s land in between. The bus was in no man’s land and stayed there for another hour while the Malawians and Zambians wrangled over the customs fees for the bales of clothes. At last we all piled in the bus again and drove 20Km to Chipata where most people got out again – we accomplished this feat by walking on the armrests down the aisle because the floor was packed with luggage, cookers, bales, and buckets. I am glad I have good balance. I felt worried for the 3 Poor Clare nuns in their long habits trying to negotiate out but they made it without mishap. I hoped they were praying we did not get into an accident since if we did there would be no way out.
After buying a coke so I could get small enough bills to use the pay toilet again (in Zambia it cost 1000 kw) we got back on and started the long journey through Zambia. The country is quite beautiful and seems to have more trees, rolling hills and mountains than Malawi. This part of the trip was miserable as the woman with the basin kept falling asleep and leaning her rather large self and her basin into my body and the woman sitting on the back half of the bale kept leaning her head on the back of my seat. My legs were completely wedged in and I couldn’t move them and there were boxes under all the seats so I couldn’t stretch out at all. At the next stop at least 150 km on (a town that begins with L) the skinny guy next to me got off. The large woman moved into the aisle seat and I to the window seat. I had a bit more leg room but the problem with the basin got worse and worse and my patience with it shorter and shorter. Although there were still more people than seats at least the bus was a bit less crowded and the pails that were stacked on top of other things in the aisle were left behind.
My phone stopped working at the Zambian border despite assurances that my Airtel sim card would work in Zambia. So in order to call Mary Rathert and Zambian nuns who had already been waiting an hour for me at the bus station in Lusaka, I had to use the phone of the woman sitting next to me. (the one I had grumbled about when the basin pinched me one final time). When at last we arrived in Lusaka I was so delighted to see Mary and the two Zambians that I nearly jumped out the window. Although Africans queue all the time they do not do it in an orderly fashion, consequently everyone was trying to get out of the bus at once and the young, the big, and the strong overpowered everyone. I was in the last group to get off.
I was delighted to be upright and to be at my destination. The two Zambian nuns Sr. Margaret the superior and Sr. Patricia along with my friend Mary were absolutely delightful companions for the rest of the journey. We went back to the Dominican convent in Lusaka which is on embassy row between Kenya and Ghana! I was introduced to the small Lusaka community of Zambian nuns and one elderly German. I was greeted, fed and given a lovely bedroom with a hot shower. The next morning at 0630 we were on the road to Livingstone and Victoria Falls in a dual cab truck filled with food and luggage as well as few parcels for the community in Livingstone. The sisters in Africa wear veils and I soon learned the advantages of doing so. Only once were we stopped at a police check point. The sisters also have an enormous network. When we needed a potty stop they called the convent in town and arranged for us to go there. When we needed a place for a picnic another call was made and a niece arranged to meet us and take us to her work place where we had a lovely lunch under a big tree. Of course when we arrived in Livingstone we were accommodated in the guest house of a local group of sisters.
The ride south was lovely as we passed maize, sugar cane and tobacco fields; crossed the lovely Kafue river and climbed up into some mountains. As we moved closer to Livingston it became warmer. Sr. Patricia spent a good deal of time in Livingston as a girl and knows the area well. She was raised Anglican and was baptized Catholic in St. Theresa’s church which we used as a landmark to get back to our guest house. The Livingston nuns had to come and get us to show us the way the first time as we went down a narrow roller coaster like dirt road then made a sharp turn to the right headed straight for a wall until the road turned suddenly left into the convent yard. We would never have found it alone and in fact the first time we returned there in the dark we got lost.
The next day we packed a lunch and a change of clothes and headed for the Falls. All I can say is they are spectacular. You have to experience them because they are indeed an experience not just a view. They are very wide and straddle two countries Zambia and Zimbabwe. The local people call them Mosi oa tunya which means “the smoke that thunders”. You can see the mist rising from the Falls from all over town and when you approach the Falls especially when the water is high as it is now the sound is overwhelming. As you approach the falls along the path you can glimpse portions of them but as you walk you are engulfed in mist and are soon blind and soaking wet. Occasionally the mist clears for a moment and you can glimpse another section of the falls but soon they are once again obscured. And there are rainbows everywhere you look – sometimes two or three at a time. It is a magical place and we spent hours walking around it, going up above the falls to watch the mighty Zambezi River roar over the precipice and hiking down to the river below the Falls to visit the boiling point. The boiling point is an area below the falls where there is a permanent whirlpool. From here you also have a an excellent view of the bridge and the bunge jumpers flying off of it into the Zambezi canyon. When we climbed back up to level of the Falls we went to a small park near the vendor sites to have lunch but we had to hire a man with a slingshot to keep the baboons away while we ate. When I tried to take the trash to the trash can a baboon and I got into a tug of war which I won much to the delight of the onlookers. [I think I was nuts to tussle with a baboon but I didn’t even consider that I could get hurt I just didn’t want her spreading trash all over]. After lunch we walked across the bridge into Zimbabwe but weren’t allowed to leave the bridge since we hadn’t paid for visas. The view from the bridge is spectacular with more rainbows everywhere and the mist from falls boiling out of the gap in the banks. We watched the bunge jumpers fly – some went head first others feet first and one guy with a lot of money – each jump is $140.00- went both ways.
Then we headed to a hotel Patricia knew about that had giraffes and zebras on the grounds. Visiting the animals is free but the cheapest room at the hotel is $507.00 USD and the most expensive is $2500.00 per night. There were a lot of Europeans/Americans staying in the hotel. I can only wonder how they got so rich or more likely who was paying for their stay. The first giraffe I saw strolling about the grounds was amazing I couldn’t stop watching it move about – they are so elegant and at the same time very ungainly with their long legs and necks. I took a million pictures of the zebra too because the patterns of their stripes are so interesting. The babies in particular have amazing patterns of stripes that are closer together than the adults and some of the babies were brownish rather than black. I enjoyed watching these semi tame animals but it didn’t seem right. They should have been out in forest not grazing about a posh hotel.
After the hotel we went to a restaurant on the Zambezi river to watch the sun set. The light was fabulous and there were just enough clouds to make the colors beautiful as they reflected into the water. Then we went home and made a spaghetti dinner and I learned a new trick. We made the sauce from fresh tomatoes which Sr. Patricia grated into the pan – this way she got all the tomato and no skin – pretty cool! After watching the news on Iranian TV (a truly interesting and somewhat discomfiting experience) we crashed into bed.
The next morning we were up fairly early so we could go to the museum which details the culture of the region as well as David Livingston’s first encounter with Mosi Oa Tunya. I particularly enjoyed the “village” set that went from a typical Malawian village to the new urban centers dramatically showing the change over the last 50 years. The artifacts from Livingston were also interesting but I was captivated by the art work in the courtyard. After a quick visit to the museum store we decided to go to the stalls on the main street to buy some gifts. Patricia let us know what we should buy there and what we should wait to buy in Lusaka and also helped us negotiate prices that weren’t azungu. We then went to lunch and had a GOOD pizza with real recognizable cheese. I thought I died and went to heaven. Then it was off to the wildlife reserve. There we hired a guide to ride with us and help us find the animals and find them we did – zebra, giraffe, impala, wildebeest, Cape buffalo, baboons, vervet monkeys, secretary birds, and storks. These animals were not tame and they looked like they were where they belonged. We mostly had to watch them from the car but I still got some marvelous .photos. Then we heard that there were 7 white rhinos in the park. So Sr. Patricia asked the guide how we might get to see them. To prevent poaching each rhino has a guard 24/7 and the guards know their animals and their habits so they can almost always locate them. So for a 70,000 zkw we got a second guide who had just returned from his shift of guarding and took us to see the rhino who was sound asleep under a tree. We had to walk through the bush and both Mary and I had on sandals and skirts because we dressed for the museum! However nothing was going to get in the way of our seeing the rhino so off we went praying the snakes were elsewhere and they were. He was really BIG and really asleep thank heavens – the guide said we could touch him but we demurred he was too big to take that risk looking was good enough.
We went home to dinner and got ready to go to a venue to watch a cultural dance performance, I was tired but I never can pass up dancing . The venue is a restaurant and bar with a stage that is part of a non-profit designed to support traditional Zambian arts. They teach traditional arts and sell the products as well as produce traditional Zambian dance shows using local talent. They also have a jam session for local musicians on Sunday nights. The show was excellent they told stories and performed traditional dances from the four regions of Zambia.
The next day we were up early to drive to Lusaka. The drive was beautiful and comfortable and we made excellent time so we reached Lusaka about 2 PM. This gave us time to shop in the huge city market which is like the one in Lilongwe but is at least 4 times larger. Mary and I bought some beautiful chitenges to bring home. Later we went to a cultural handicrafts place and bought a few more items. Then because I had to be at the bus station at 0430 Patricia, Mary and I went to mass at a Jesuit church that had not one single piece of African art and no music. Very disappointing. After dinner and more Iranian TV news mostly about Bahrain I was off to bed.
The bus ride back was shorter than the ride in and a lot more comfortable since they did not overfill the bus in Lusaka or anywhere else. The aisles were only semi blocked but one could get out fairly easily. The ride through Zambia was beautiful and the only really interesting thing happened around 0630 when the bus stopped in the middle of nowhere and the guys got out and stood in the tall grass at the front of the bus and peed and women squatted behind the bus. After that all potty stops were at more conventional pay toilets. I was happy to have experienced Zambia but glad to be home.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Cultural Awareness March 14
I wrote this on March 14 but have been out of internet connections since then so here goes. Zambia and Victoria Falls coming soon!
March 13, 2010 Cultural Training experience
First I want to say that all weekend I have been watching CNN, BBC, and Sky News off and on. My heart and my thoughts are with the Japanese people in the midst of this horrible disaster. I have had contact with several Japanese friends in the US who report their families are safe. I am still concerned about friends in Iwate Prefecture who we have not heard from. I can’t imagine being in the midst of this and trying to cope.
Yesterday, at last, I attended the cultural training that I had signed up for in February. It was a lot of fun and truly worth the $50.00 fee. I was picked up with another woman Tabachi, who is Malawian but has been living in Namibia, and transported to a “cultural village” near a resort some kilometers outside of Lilongwe. There I met Adam a young graduate student from Pittsburg working at the Permaculture center, a Norwegian couple Anna and Udin and another Norwegian whose name I can’t pronounce so can’t spell. Anna is working at the Malawi statistical center and the men are working on projects sponsored by the Norwegian government in Malawi (Norway has committed significant resources in Malawi). There were also three staff members – Joel, Rebecca, and Francis, the leader.
We had a really interesting and open discussion about culture ours and theirs. Many things I had observed were confirmed such as the cultural avoidance of conflict and the likelihood that if you don’t deal with it, it will blow up. Yes often means no and sometimes it is very hard to determine when yes is no. (I think that’s what happened with our maid/gardener –Regina had been pushing him and I think he just had enough). Francis talked about the difference in culture between government and private workers. The government workers see the organization as theirs and since the organization is very top heavy no one does anything without instruction and it doesn’t worry them that they may not do anything at all on a given day because it’s “their” organization. This occasioned a big discussion of ways to motivate workers in the private and NGO sector. The Malawians accept that there is really nothing one can do about government which includes the University where I have noticed nearly everyone has another job or business and the majority of those who don’t still don’t work very hard. [There are a few people who work very hard indeed].
Most interesting was the discussion of the importance of children and marriage which is not a legal thing but rather an agreement between partners and family. First it is important to understand that the Chewa which is the largest group and is located mostly in the south and central area is matrilineal and matriarchal. The other groups who live in the north are patriarchal and patrilineal. Among the Chewa the mother’s brothers decide if the match is a good one, if so a bride price of some sort is paid, and the couple moves in together. The sole purpose of marriage is bear children who are the wealth of the family and the village. If there is no pregnancy in 2-3 months family members will begin asking what is wrong. After 6 months the man may go to another women to demonstrate he does not have the problem – polygamy is acceptable especially if the first wife is barren. The first wife must prepare a house built by the husband for the new wife. If it is determined that the husband has a problem – ie he hasn’t sired children with other women – then a fisi (hyena) is appointed from his family to go into the woman’s bed and sire a child. She will know who he is but she will not have a say about who is chosen. The more children one has the wealthier one is. When I say I have two children people feel sorry for me.
When girls have menarche they are initiated (chenamwali) by the old ladies, the Anankungwis, who are women beyond childbearing age. The instruction is not verbal it is in the form of a dance. The dance shows girls how to hoe and how to have sex – it was an amazingly graphic dance for a very conservative society– there was no question about the message. I of course joined in much to the delight of the women but I hurt today. I will post some pictures and later video if I can.
When the woman becomes pregnant the Anankungwis come to instruct her how to behave as a pregnant person. Until she receives this instruction she cannot tie her chitenge above her waist which is the message to the community that she is pregnant – however no one mentions her pregnancy since this is considered bad luck. Pregnant women may not eat salt – a good idea among people who use a lot of salt, and in some places she cannot eat eggs since it is believed the yolk will block the birth canal. (Or that the baby will grow too large). She is also instructed in local medicine to take and signs and symptoms of labor. Once labor starts or is close, the husband moves out of the house and the older ladies and midwives move in until the baby is born or the woman goes to the health center to deliver. If the baby is born alive the women ululate, if still born they are silent and it is believed that a witch has acted against the family causing the death. Following the birth the anankungwis instruct the woman in the care of her baby including the preparation of the medicine to be placed on the fontanels for protection and may help her for a while. One is considered a girl no matter what her age until she has a child – consequently we read about women giving birth to stones after a pseudo pregnancy and claiming they were bewitched and worse still women stealing babies from the hospital after an apparent pregnancy. A child belongs to the whole community but if the parents split up in a Chewa family the children belong to the mother – this also means the men may have little role in child rearing. Uncles and aunts on the mother’s side may have a more prominent role than the father.
For the boys the ceremony is called Gule Wamakulu. Boys are usually 12 or 13 when they undergo this initiation to adulthood, however older men who have not undergone it and women who have borne children may also go through this ceremony. There is a strong belief in spirits so the ceremony is held in the graveyard where the spirits of the ancestors reside and which is consequently a pretty scary place only entered to bury someone, dedicate a tombstone, or undergo the initiation. During the entire 1-2 week initiation period the initiates are not allowed to eat salt and must go through a series of tests most of which cannot be revealed as they are secret. However to prove their stealth, boys might be sent to fetch water from the river which is usually far away and return without being seen or detected by any women (since it is verboten for men to carry water). They must also demonstrate that they have the skills to be an adult male which includes skill in building huts, weaving mats, making hoe handles, and hunting. If he does not pass these tests the boy may be ejected from the village. Once the initiation is complete the boy is a man and may marry and must not sleep in his parent’s house. I am not sure how this works for boys who go off to secondary school and college after the initiation.
Usually in matriarchal/matrilineal societies women have more privilege and are also more likely to be educated but this is not the case in Malawi. The most educated women and those with the best health and lowest birthrate are from the north where the predominant culture, Tumbuka, is patriarchal and the children belong to man. I have wondered about this since I came and finally have an answer. The missionaries came to Malawi about the same time as another tribe the Ngoni. Because both were newcomers they teamed up to protect themselves from the Chewa. The Chewa were strongest in the south so both groups moved north. The missionaries set up schools wherever they went and they went where the Ngoni another matriarchal tribe went. The best schools ended up in the North around Mzuzu and the Chewa and Ngoni there are more educated and as we know the more educated a woman the fewer children she has and the healthier her family. However the north is also where men have the longest life expectancy even when they live in rural areas. Overall men the south and center have very short lives 49-51 years and it is worse for rural men who also receive few health services.
I will write more about sickness and death rituals later and will do an entire blog on witchcraft a belief that permeates all the cultures regardless of tribe or religion.
March 13, 2010 Cultural Training experience
First I want to say that all weekend I have been watching CNN, BBC, and Sky News off and on. My heart and my thoughts are with the Japanese people in the midst of this horrible disaster. I have had contact with several Japanese friends in the US who report their families are safe. I am still concerned about friends in Iwate Prefecture who we have not heard from. I can’t imagine being in the midst of this and trying to cope.
Yesterday, at last, I attended the cultural training that I had signed up for in February. It was a lot of fun and truly worth the $50.00 fee. I was picked up with another woman Tabachi, who is Malawian but has been living in Namibia, and transported to a “cultural village” near a resort some kilometers outside of Lilongwe. There I met Adam a young graduate student from Pittsburg working at the Permaculture center, a Norwegian couple Anna and Udin and another Norwegian whose name I can’t pronounce so can’t spell. Anna is working at the Malawi statistical center and the men are working on projects sponsored by the Norwegian government in Malawi (Norway has committed significant resources in Malawi). There were also three staff members – Joel, Rebecca, and Francis, the leader.
We had a really interesting and open discussion about culture ours and theirs. Many things I had observed were confirmed such as the cultural avoidance of conflict and the likelihood that if you don’t deal with it, it will blow up. Yes often means no and sometimes it is very hard to determine when yes is no. (I think that’s what happened with our maid/gardener –Regina had been pushing him and I think he just had enough). Francis talked about the difference in culture between government and private workers. The government workers see the organization as theirs and since the organization is very top heavy no one does anything without instruction and it doesn’t worry them that they may not do anything at all on a given day because it’s “their” organization. This occasioned a big discussion of ways to motivate workers in the private and NGO sector. The Malawians accept that there is really nothing one can do about government which includes the University where I have noticed nearly everyone has another job or business and the majority of those who don’t still don’t work very hard. [There are a few people who work very hard indeed].
Most interesting was the discussion of the importance of children and marriage which is not a legal thing but rather an agreement between partners and family. First it is important to understand that the Chewa which is the largest group and is located mostly in the south and central area is matrilineal and matriarchal. The other groups who live in the north are patriarchal and patrilineal. Among the Chewa the mother’s brothers decide if the match is a good one, if so a bride price of some sort is paid, and the couple moves in together. The sole purpose of marriage is bear children who are the wealth of the family and the village. If there is no pregnancy in 2-3 months family members will begin asking what is wrong. After 6 months the man may go to another women to demonstrate he does not have the problem – polygamy is acceptable especially if the first wife is barren. The first wife must prepare a house built by the husband for the new wife. If it is determined that the husband has a problem – ie he hasn’t sired children with other women – then a fisi (hyena) is appointed from his family to go into the woman’s bed and sire a child. She will know who he is but she will not have a say about who is chosen. The more children one has the wealthier one is. When I say I have two children people feel sorry for me.
When girls have menarche they are initiated (chenamwali) by the old ladies, the Anankungwis, who are women beyond childbearing age. The instruction is not verbal it is in the form of a dance. The dance shows girls how to hoe and how to have sex – it was an amazingly graphic dance for a very conservative society– there was no question about the message. I of course joined in much to the delight of the women but I hurt today. I will post some pictures and later video if I can.
When the woman becomes pregnant the Anankungwis come to instruct her how to behave as a pregnant person. Until she receives this instruction she cannot tie her chitenge above her waist which is the message to the community that she is pregnant – however no one mentions her pregnancy since this is considered bad luck. Pregnant women may not eat salt – a good idea among people who use a lot of salt, and in some places she cannot eat eggs since it is believed the yolk will block the birth canal. (Or that the baby will grow too large). She is also instructed in local medicine to take and signs and symptoms of labor. Once labor starts or is close, the husband moves out of the house and the older ladies and midwives move in until the baby is born or the woman goes to the health center to deliver. If the baby is born alive the women ululate, if still born they are silent and it is believed that a witch has acted against the family causing the death. Following the birth the anankungwis instruct the woman in the care of her baby including the preparation of the medicine to be placed on the fontanels for protection and may help her for a while. One is considered a girl no matter what her age until she has a child – consequently we read about women giving birth to stones after a pseudo pregnancy and claiming they were bewitched and worse still women stealing babies from the hospital after an apparent pregnancy. A child belongs to the whole community but if the parents split up in a Chewa family the children belong to the mother – this also means the men may have little role in child rearing. Uncles and aunts on the mother’s side may have a more prominent role than the father.
For the boys the ceremony is called Gule Wamakulu. Boys are usually 12 or 13 when they undergo this initiation to adulthood, however older men who have not undergone it and women who have borne children may also go through this ceremony. There is a strong belief in spirits so the ceremony is held in the graveyard where the spirits of the ancestors reside and which is consequently a pretty scary place only entered to bury someone, dedicate a tombstone, or undergo the initiation. During the entire 1-2 week initiation period the initiates are not allowed to eat salt and must go through a series of tests most of which cannot be revealed as they are secret. However to prove their stealth, boys might be sent to fetch water from the river which is usually far away and return without being seen or detected by any women (since it is verboten for men to carry water). They must also demonstrate that they have the skills to be an adult male which includes skill in building huts, weaving mats, making hoe handles, and hunting. If he does not pass these tests the boy may be ejected from the village. Once the initiation is complete the boy is a man and may marry and must not sleep in his parent’s house. I am not sure how this works for boys who go off to secondary school and college after the initiation.
Usually in matriarchal/matrilineal societies women have more privilege and are also more likely to be educated but this is not the case in Malawi. The most educated women and those with the best health and lowest birthrate are from the north where the predominant culture, Tumbuka, is patriarchal and the children belong to man. I have wondered about this since I came and finally have an answer. The missionaries came to Malawi about the same time as another tribe the Ngoni. Because both were newcomers they teamed up to protect themselves from the Chewa. The Chewa were strongest in the south so both groups moved north. The missionaries set up schools wherever they went and they went where the Ngoni another matriarchal tribe went. The best schools ended up in the North around Mzuzu and the Chewa and Ngoni there are more educated and as we know the more educated a woman the fewer children she has and the healthier her family. However the north is also where men have the longest life expectancy even when they live in rural areas. Overall men the south and center have very short lives 49-51 years and it is worse for rural men who also receive few health services.
I will write more about sickness and death rituals later and will do an entire blog on witchcraft a belief that permeates all the cultures regardless of tribe or religion.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Likuni and Kawale Photos
Two Clinics 2/18-22
Two more clinical days
Kawale Clinic
Kawale Health Center is in the heart of Lilongwe but still is accessed by a dirt road. When I arrived there the students were there but faculty was with the other half of the group on outreach. There were many women and children in the waiting room for immunizations and a student was already giving a health talk. When she finished she came out and organized the rest of the students as she had been appointed the student leader. Since this day only 15/30 students were there they were all assigned to do immunizations but she broke them up into teams. The guys were weighing children – see the photos. The rest of the students were oriented to immunizations by the health assistant who actually did a very good job of talking about the immunizations, the importance of cold chain, and the differences between the syringes. The students then began doing well baby checks – which depending on the student were very thorough or consisted only of putting the weight on the graph in the child’s health passport. Seven to eight students were at the immunization table and it was chaotic. They used the same dropper for all the polio vaccine and I am sure they must have contaminated even though I didn’t see anyone do it. The Bcg comes in a glass vial, the health assistant rubbed the neck on a corner of the table and then broke it open with her bare hands. It was a multiple dose vial that sat open on the table throughout the clinic. The DPT and measles immunizations were multiple dose vials but with rubber stoppers so they at least stayed clean. As if 50 or so mothers and children were not enough, at 9AM a long line of women who were at the antenatal clinic added to the chaos by making a line from the hallway. How anyone could keep track of who was being seen I will never know. Most of the babies looked healthy and I saw some really great mother child interactions. A couple of times I saw really young women who didn’t seem to know what to do with the baby – one of the health assistants said that usually meant it was a young sister who was sent to clinic with the baby by the parent.
Kawale clinic has a sink with a big sign in Chichewa that says “Wash your hands”. The sink is covered with dust, and the facet is covered with an old glove. There is no water and no one was washing between kids.
Likuni
Likuni is a village about 20 Km (15 miles) outside of Lilongwe. To get there we drove on tarmac for a while then entered a market town where the road became rutted dirt. Then we drove through corn fields so it rather looked like Iowa. The maize goes on and on and right now it is so high you can’t see over the tops so it’s just a wall of corn. Under the corn they have planted beans and pumpkins, and next to it sweet potatoes. After a long, noisy ride (the students sing, shout, and are generally noisier than a group of middle school kids) we arrived a brick building in the middle of a maize field. As we drove up a large group of preschoolers and perhaps kindergarteners came out – the building is used as a preschool except when there is a clinic which is about once a month. Next door there is a nice house where the pre-school teacher who apparently used to be a nurse lives. She let us use her very nice and absolutely clean outhouse and provided us with water for washing. We waited a while for the women to make their way to the clinic and the faculty (2) this time put on their chitenges. They use them like aprons and if I had known I would have brought one because we have to sit on the floor to examine the children. I pleaded old age and sat on the steps – I can sit on the floor but getting up is not a pretty sight!
This time we had water for washing because at the last minute the faculty (probably because they saw me on the bus) sent the students back for the buckets. As usual the clinic began with a health talk – this time appropriately on burn prevention. Everyone here cooks with wood fires and I saw children who had been burned. Then there was the singing of the health songs. (I have a great video which I will try to post on U tube later.) Some of the mothers in this village are Very very young – several looked no more than 14. They are poorly educated or not educated at all. (I happened to see the literacy rates from the most recent census in Malawi (2010) central region where we are has the lowest rates overall and the female literacy rate is somewhere around 60%). They will have terribly hard lives with unrelenting labor, will likely have several partners before they are 30, and will suffer hunger and malnutrition, multiple bouts of malaria, and these days likely HIV/AIDS. HIV is more likely because of some cultural practices in the countryside that I will describe later in a blog focusing on them on and what is being done to change them. The children while much smaller and more likely to fall on the underweight side of graph than the ones I saw in Lilongwe seemed healthy although the parents often complained that the child had every symptom on the list in hopes of scoring some meds. Students who worked with me washed their hands and few others did. How do we make this simple change – I asked Dave the Pediatrician from Yale and he said there is little hand washing and few facilities to do so at Queen Elizabeth Hospital – the biggest and most advanced in the country. Besides he says there is no soap but even friction without soap is better than nothing and a little bleach in the water even better. What is needed is a culture of hand washing and I am not sure how we get there.
Most of the children I saw were pretty healthy although I saw two really nasty cases of impetigo one all over the face and scalp. I also saw a set of twins one of whom was remarkably smaller than the other. I am not sure why that would be because Peds is not my area but I am getting better at it. I also talked to a mom who probably had a corneal abrasion from getting hit in the eye with a piece of firewood and another one with a nasty laceration that probably should have been sutured but that was never going to happen. Of course when I say I talked to parents I did so only through an interpreter because few speak English in the villages and although my Chichewa is improving I can in no way speak it. I must say people are usually impressed by my efforts since apparently few mzungu even try and I can occasionally make a whole sentence. I hope to visit the hospital next week but will not be able to do pictures there I don’t think. I am missing everyone and looking forward to a visit with Mary Rathert in Zambia and a trip to Victoria Falls in two weeks.
Kawale Clinic
Kawale Health Center is in the heart of Lilongwe but still is accessed by a dirt road. When I arrived there the students were there but faculty was with the other half of the group on outreach. There were many women and children in the waiting room for immunizations and a student was already giving a health talk. When she finished she came out and organized the rest of the students as she had been appointed the student leader. Since this day only 15/30 students were there they were all assigned to do immunizations but she broke them up into teams. The guys were weighing children – see the photos. The rest of the students were oriented to immunizations by the health assistant who actually did a very good job of talking about the immunizations, the importance of cold chain, and the differences between the syringes. The students then began doing well baby checks – which depending on the student were very thorough or consisted only of putting the weight on the graph in the child’s health passport. Seven to eight students were at the immunization table and it was chaotic. They used the same dropper for all the polio vaccine and I am sure they must have contaminated even though I didn’t see anyone do it. The Bcg comes in a glass vial, the health assistant rubbed the neck on a corner of the table and then broke it open with her bare hands. It was a multiple dose vial that sat open on the table throughout the clinic. The DPT and measles immunizations were multiple dose vials but with rubber stoppers so they at least stayed clean. As if 50 or so mothers and children were not enough, at 9AM a long line of women who were at the antenatal clinic added to the chaos by making a line from the hallway. How anyone could keep track of who was being seen I will never know. Most of the babies looked healthy and I saw some really great mother child interactions. A couple of times I saw really young women who didn’t seem to know what to do with the baby – one of the health assistants said that usually meant it was a young sister who was sent to clinic with the baby by the parent.
Kawale clinic has a sink with a big sign in Chichewa that says “Wash your hands”. The sink is covered with dust, and the facet is covered with an old glove. There is no water and no one was washing between kids.
Likuni
Likuni is a village about 20 Km (15 miles) outside of Lilongwe. To get there we drove on tarmac for a while then entered a market town where the road became rutted dirt. Then we drove through corn fields so it rather looked like Iowa. The maize goes on and on and right now it is so high you can’t see over the tops so it’s just a wall of corn. Under the corn they have planted beans and pumpkins, and next to it sweet potatoes. After a long, noisy ride (the students sing, shout, and are generally noisier than a group of middle school kids) we arrived a brick building in the middle of a maize field. As we drove up a large group of preschoolers and perhaps kindergarteners came out – the building is used as a preschool except when there is a clinic which is about once a month. Next door there is a nice house where the pre-school teacher who apparently used to be a nurse lives. She let us use her very nice and absolutely clean outhouse and provided us with water for washing. We waited a while for the women to make their way to the clinic and the faculty (2) this time put on their chitenges. They use them like aprons and if I had known I would have brought one because we have to sit on the floor to examine the children. I pleaded old age and sat on the steps – I can sit on the floor but getting up is not a pretty sight!
This time we had water for washing because at the last minute the faculty (probably because they saw me on the bus) sent the students back for the buckets. As usual the clinic began with a health talk – this time appropriately on burn prevention. Everyone here cooks with wood fires and I saw children who had been burned. Then there was the singing of the health songs. (I have a great video which I will try to post on U tube later.) Some of the mothers in this village are Very very young – several looked no more than 14. They are poorly educated or not educated at all. (I happened to see the literacy rates from the most recent census in Malawi (2010) central region where we are has the lowest rates overall and the female literacy rate is somewhere around 60%). They will have terribly hard lives with unrelenting labor, will likely have several partners before they are 30, and will suffer hunger and malnutrition, multiple bouts of malaria, and these days likely HIV/AIDS. HIV is more likely because of some cultural practices in the countryside that I will describe later in a blog focusing on them on and what is being done to change them. The children while much smaller and more likely to fall on the underweight side of graph than the ones I saw in Lilongwe seemed healthy although the parents often complained that the child had every symptom on the list in hopes of scoring some meds. Students who worked with me washed their hands and few others did. How do we make this simple change – I asked Dave the Pediatrician from Yale and he said there is little hand washing and few facilities to do so at Queen Elizabeth Hospital – the biggest and most advanced in the country. Besides he says there is no soap but even friction without soap is better than nothing and a little bleach in the water even better. What is needed is a culture of hand washing and I am not sure how we get there.
Most of the children I saw were pretty healthy although I saw two really nasty cases of impetigo one all over the face and scalp. I also saw a set of twins one of whom was remarkably smaller than the other. I am not sure why that would be because Peds is not my area but I am getting better at it. I also talked to a mom who probably had a corneal abrasion from getting hit in the eye with a piece of firewood and another one with a nasty laceration that probably should have been sutured but that was never going to happen. Of course when I say I talked to parents I did so only through an interpreter because few speak English in the villages and although my Chichewa is improving I can in no way speak it. I must say people are usually impressed by my efforts since apparently few mzungu even try and I can occasionally make a whole sentence. I hope to visit the hospital next week but will not be able to do pictures there I don’t think. I am missing everyone and looking forward to a visit with Mary Rathert in Zambia and a trip to Victoria Falls in two weeks.
Pictures from Blantyre
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
A visit to Blantyre
Trip to Blantyre
This morning there was fog and around some of the hedges hung an ethereal white mist that looked like spider webs then suddenly when the sun struck it was gone. I was up very early for the bus to Blantyre. It is a big bus with comfortable looking seats that aren’t all that comfortable. There is air conditioning and nice big windows so I can enjoy the scenery.
We are driving through central Malawi to Blantyre. The coach is comfortable until we get to a hot stretch when the air con seems to fail, and vibrating with African music as well as the ruts and potholes in the road. The country is green, green, green. last time I was here (November 08) everything was brown and there were no leaves on the trees.. The corn is tall dwarfing the small children walking through it. Two school-aged children are driving an oxcart rapidly on the verge of the highway. We pass many small masjids with towers at each corner some are walled others have open courtyards. The houses are small built of unfired brick or reeds some with thatched roofs, some of corrugated iron, still others covered with tar paper. People are busy this Saturday morning in the markets, at the masjids, and in the fields. We are surrounded by the bones of an ancient mountain range which has been reduced to rocky hillocks of odd and weird shapes that pop up seemingly from out of nowhere. Some of the hills are tree covered others while others are bare rock. There are more trees here than there are near Lilongwe and all are verdant green. Maize is growing everywhere but as we move south it is neither as tall nor as healthy and green because there has been drought in the south central area. In among the corn are tobacco fields. Under the maize beans and pumpkins are grown to make the most of scarce land. Women are in the fields with their makasu (hoes) tilling the soft ground. Houses are clustered together to make maximum use of growing space and provide safety. There are a group of middle school kids kicking a large plastic container around on a soccer (football) field. Suddenly, there is a forest of trees covering a hill that is mountain size. Then there are no more corn fields on this side of the road just hills and more trees than I have ever seen in Malawi. Some of the trees are evergreens that look a bit like the Norfolk pines I saw in Guam. Then there is there is grass maize, and trees, again. Then a village, then maize, sweet potatoes,and bananas.
Why are there men sitting about in the shade near a village compound below some tall green hills? Suddenly there is larger settlement and then some taller hills. The corn here is taller than the houses. Now there is furniture maker, the houses are of fired brick some covered with cement like stucco. Because it is a large village there is a bottle store and gas station, nevertheless there are women carrying water on their heads and washing clothes in an irrigation ditch. We are in Dedza a bigger city that is the district seat (boma) and is also a major highway turn off. In the market there are huge piles of Irish potatoes. More bottle stores and a Carlsburg bar – these are owned and managed by Carlsburg Inc. the only beer made in Malawi except the local chumbuku. This thick maize beer is also called “shake, shake” and comes in little boxes which are sold everywhere. At Dedzda there is a Police inspection of the cargo and the bus. A passenger buys a huge bag of potatoes that is stowed with the luggage. A man passes by holding a 10# bag of potatoes in one hand with his is arm straight up above his head so we can easily see them from the bus windows. Suddenly we seem to be going uphill, the mountains are taller and the gardens are terraced. (A fellow passenger borrows my newspaper. Whenever I buy a newspaper here at least 5-6 other people borrow it and read it.) We are on a high plateau. There has been rain here recently and men are cutting grass with machete –pango knife. A woman walks by with a huge load of wood on her head and a baby on her back. All the women are carrying things on their heads and most have babies on their backs but this load is remarkable for it’s size and length.
The bus stewardess hands me some peanuts. Could this be Southwest Airlines? “No”, these are Malawi peanuts! Next she hands me a Coca Cola. Nice. Then of course, I have to use the bathroom even though I really limited fluids this AM. The bathroom stinks and there is no light and I decide I can hold it. Soon enough we are in North Blantyre and I can see that this town is more compact and also more cosmopolitan than Lilongwe. I have called the Taxi driver that Lisa suggested but he is too far away so I take the taxi that is there and of course am charged too much even though I dickered. Of course I didn’t know how far the lodge where Lisa is staying is from the bus depot.
I arrive quickly at Kabula lodge, an odd collection of houses behind a wall. Lisa has a three bedroom house that is really huge. I have my own bed and I sleep well except for the 4:30 AM call to prayer from a mosque that is nearby but which we can’t seem to locate. I am really glad to see Lisa and she suggests we go down to her favorite Ethiopian restaurant where we are to meet Heidi. (Lisa is a Fulbright fellow – recent graduate from Tufts bachelor’s program in PH doing a research project. Heidi is older and has worked in Japan and Guatemala. She is an English Language Fellow teaching at International University.) The owner of the Ethiopian restruant is lovely and I can tell she is fond of Lisa (like who wouldn’t be! She is so friendly and kind). I am served some wonderful strong Ethiopian coffee – it is fabulous. Later I have a lunch of a pancake like bread with a wonderful spicy beef that I scoop up with the bread. We have to wait a while since Heidi’s meeting is lasting longer than expected. When she arrives she needs a cup of tea and we reschedule our pedicure for 3:30 so she can drink her tea. The pedicure is in a European style spa shop and is heavenly but expensive ($30USD). It is followed by some good gelato and then a Chinese dinner which was not very good. Sunday morning we hang out on the lovely deck overlooking Blantyre and then go to Ethiopian for real coffee but she isn’t open yet so we wait and visit until Heidi comes from her weekly internet morning. Lisa and Heidi are moving into a house in the next week or so and they are excitedly preparing and talking about cooking. Heidi is a vegetarian and Lisa is coming up with all kinds of dishes they can share. It was lovely to spend time with other American women. Dave and Vic are busy writing grants and haven’t been able to break away and join us.
I was supposed to stay in Blantyre until Wednesday but Sunday night I got a text from Regina saying the meeting I was to go to had been cancelled because of a funeral so I bought a ticket for Tuesday morning. On Monday I visit the Blantyre campus of KCN which is on the campus of Queen Elizabeth Hospital (QEH). Although I did not get to visit the wards I had to walk through the halls of the hospital- what a gigantic maze! In 1960 I worked as a candy striper at Harbor General Hospital (HGH) in LA. The hospital consisted of barracks strung together with covered walkways. QEH looks just like HGH looked in 1960 right down to confusing signage (all in Chichewa- which is good) and big open wards. What is different is the people camped out next to the wards sleeping and cooking and of course taking care of their family members. The person I needed to see at the college was not quite ready for me so I was taken over to College of Medicine because I needed to talk to the IRB office about our research proposal. I am certainly glad I did since she told me I didn’t need to send the proposal through their IRB because it was educational not medical research. (Everyone else told me I had to sendit to the med school IRB). I had a productive meeting with the Graduate Dean and I think they may ac use me to help do some faculty development. I also met with the person who is managing the on line education and distance ed and I will also be working with her. I will be back in Blantyre in about a week.
My final night Heidi, Lisa and I had a marvelous dinner with Dave and Vic at Vegie Delight a wonderful Indian restaurant. It was such fun and we laughed and laughed. This was the best medicine. We had been invited to an Oscar party later but when we got there everyone was really engaged in watching to Oscars so we went for dessert and ran into Zwide, the Malawian who works for WSU. He was alone so we sat with him and visited. (It is amazing I know so few people in Malawi and then run into someone in Blantyre).
Slow lazy internet today means I won't post pictures until tomorrow or Friday. SOrry this is a little disjointed I wrote while I was on the bus.
This morning there was fog and around some of the hedges hung an ethereal white mist that looked like spider webs then suddenly when the sun struck it was gone. I was up very early for the bus to Blantyre. It is a big bus with comfortable looking seats that aren’t all that comfortable. There is air conditioning and nice big windows so I can enjoy the scenery.
We are driving through central Malawi to Blantyre. The coach is comfortable until we get to a hot stretch when the air con seems to fail, and vibrating with African music as well as the ruts and potholes in the road. The country is green, green, green. last time I was here (November 08) everything was brown and there were no leaves on the trees.. The corn is tall dwarfing the small children walking through it. Two school-aged children are driving an oxcart rapidly on the verge of the highway. We pass many small masjids with towers at each corner some are walled others have open courtyards. The houses are small built of unfired brick or reeds some with thatched roofs, some of corrugated iron, still others covered with tar paper. People are busy this Saturday morning in the markets, at the masjids, and in the fields. We are surrounded by the bones of an ancient mountain range which has been reduced to rocky hillocks of odd and weird shapes that pop up seemingly from out of nowhere. Some of the hills are tree covered others while others are bare rock. There are more trees here than there are near Lilongwe and all are verdant green. Maize is growing everywhere but as we move south it is neither as tall nor as healthy and green because there has been drought in the south central area. In among the corn are tobacco fields. Under the maize beans and pumpkins are grown to make the most of scarce land. Women are in the fields with their makasu (hoes) tilling the soft ground. Houses are clustered together to make maximum use of growing space and provide safety. There are a group of middle school kids kicking a large plastic container around on a soccer (football) field. Suddenly, there is a forest of trees covering a hill that is mountain size. Then there are no more corn fields on this side of the road just hills and more trees than I have ever seen in Malawi. Some of the trees are evergreens that look a bit like the Norfolk pines I saw in Guam. Then there is there is grass maize, and trees, again. Then a village, then maize, sweet potatoes,and bananas.
Why are there men sitting about in the shade near a village compound below some tall green hills? Suddenly there is larger settlement and then some taller hills. The corn here is taller than the houses. Now there is furniture maker, the houses are of fired brick some covered with cement like stucco. Because it is a large village there is a bottle store and gas station, nevertheless there are women carrying water on their heads and washing clothes in an irrigation ditch. We are in Dedza a bigger city that is the district seat (boma) and is also a major highway turn off. In the market there are huge piles of Irish potatoes. More bottle stores and a Carlsburg bar – these are owned and managed by Carlsburg Inc. the only beer made in Malawi except the local chumbuku. This thick maize beer is also called “shake, shake” and comes in little boxes which are sold everywhere. At Dedzda there is a Police inspection of the cargo and the bus. A passenger buys a huge bag of potatoes that is stowed with the luggage. A man passes by holding a 10# bag of potatoes in one hand with his is arm straight up above his head so we can easily see them from the bus windows. Suddenly we seem to be going uphill, the mountains are taller and the gardens are terraced. (A fellow passenger borrows my newspaper. Whenever I buy a newspaper here at least 5-6 other people borrow it and read it.) We are on a high plateau. There has been rain here recently and men are cutting grass with machete –pango knife. A woman walks by with a huge load of wood on her head and a baby on her back. All the women are carrying things on their heads and most have babies on their backs but this load is remarkable for it’s size and length.
The bus stewardess hands me some peanuts. Could this be Southwest Airlines? “No”, these are Malawi peanuts! Next she hands me a Coca Cola. Nice. Then of course, I have to use the bathroom even though I really limited fluids this AM. The bathroom stinks and there is no light and I decide I can hold it. Soon enough we are in North Blantyre and I can see that this town is more compact and also more cosmopolitan than Lilongwe. I have called the Taxi driver that Lisa suggested but he is too far away so I take the taxi that is there and of course am charged too much even though I dickered. Of course I didn’t know how far the lodge where Lisa is staying is from the bus depot.
I arrive quickly at Kabula lodge, an odd collection of houses behind a wall. Lisa has a three bedroom house that is really huge. I have my own bed and I sleep well except for the 4:30 AM call to prayer from a mosque that is nearby but which we can’t seem to locate. I am really glad to see Lisa and she suggests we go down to her favorite Ethiopian restaurant where we are to meet Heidi. (Lisa is a Fulbright fellow – recent graduate from Tufts bachelor’s program in PH doing a research project. Heidi is older and has worked in Japan and Guatemala. She is an English Language Fellow teaching at International University.) The owner of the Ethiopian restruant is lovely and I can tell she is fond of Lisa (like who wouldn’t be! She is so friendly and kind). I am served some wonderful strong Ethiopian coffee – it is fabulous. Later I have a lunch of a pancake like bread with a wonderful spicy beef that I scoop up with the bread. We have to wait a while since Heidi’s meeting is lasting longer than expected. When she arrives she needs a cup of tea and we reschedule our pedicure for 3:30 so she can drink her tea. The pedicure is in a European style spa shop and is heavenly but expensive ($30USD). It is followed by some good gelato and then a Chinese dinner which was not very good. Sunday morning we hang out on the lovely deck overlooking Blantyre and then go to Ethiopian for real coffee but she isn’t open yet so we wait and visit until Heidi comes from her weekly internet morning. Lisa and Heidi are moving into a house in the next week or so and they are excitedly preparing and talking about cooking. Heidi is a vegetarian and Lisa is coming up with all kinds of dishes they can share. It was lovely to spend time with other American women. Dave and Vic are busy writing grants and haven’t been able to break away and join us.
I was supposed to stay in Blantyre until Wednesday but Sunday night I got a text from Regina saying the meeting I was to go to had been cancelled because of a funeral so I bought a ticket for Tuesday morning. On Monday I visit the Blantyre campus of KCN which is on the campus of Queen Elizabeth Hospital (QEH). Although I did not get to visit the wards I had to walk through the halls of the hospital- what a gigantic maze! In 1960 I worked as a candy striper at Harbor General Hospital (HGH) in LA. The hospital consisted of barracks strung together with covered walkways. QEH looks just like HGH looked in 1960 right down to confusing signage (all in Chichewa- which is good) and big open wards. What is different is the people camped out next to the wards sleeping and cooking and of course taking care of their family members. The person I needed to see at the college was not quite ready for me so I was taken over to College of Medicine because I needed to talk to the IRB office about our research proposal. I am certainly glad I did since she told me I didn’t need to send the proposal through their IRB because it was educational not medical research. (Everyone else told me I had to sendit to the med school IRB). I had a productive meeting with the Graduate Dean and I think they may ac use me to help do some faculty development. I also met with the person who is managing the on line education and distance ed and I will also be working with her. I will be back in Blantyre in about a week.
My final night Heidi, Lisa and I had a marvelous dinner with Dave and Vic at Vegie Delight a wonderful Indian restaurant. It was such fun and we laughed and laughed. This was the best medicine. We had been invited to an Oscar party later but when we got there everyone was really engaged in watching to Oscars so we went for dessert and ran into Zwide, the Malawian who works for WSU. He was alone so we sat with him and visited. (It is amazing I know so few people in Malawi and then run into someone in Blantyre).
Slow lazy internet today means I won't post pictures until tomorrow or Friday. SOrry this is a little disjointed I wrote while I was on the bus.
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