Sadness, Regret, Shock, Anger...

I'm just writing briefly to let the loyal Malawi 'n Me readers know that I have no other excuse for not writing this past week except for sadness over the loss of our beloved cat Penga last week Sunday evening (April 20). Though my last post on that same evening was quite hopeful, as it turned out, the risks involved after Penga's ordeal that day were greater than I had realized prior to leaving Dr. Mutunga's (a.k.a. the good vet's) office in Blantyre last Sunday afternoon. Apparently, the intestines were paralyzed from prolonged exposure, so in the end, Penga was not able to recover, and died at around 8 p.m. that evening.

I received this information on Monday morning, via a phone call from Dr. Mutunga soon after surviving my court battle over the expired license-plate registration (which ironically went well, resulting in a mere MK 1,000 fine--about 8 bucks-- and about 3 hours' time lost waiting at the police station and the court.).

Ever since, my emotions have primarily shifted between sadness (over our loss), regret (over my trust of that sh-- for brains vet), shock (at the events that led to our loss), and anger (at that sh-- for brains vet).

The overriding emotion now is primarily anger at the lousy excuse for a veterinarian by the name of Dr. Oliver Bakili (based in Lilongwe, but also practicing part-time at the vet clinic in Zomba, as a warning to the Malawian pet owners out there), whose lack of professionalism and compassion, combined with a sloppy suturing job and dishonesty about his small-animal surgical abilities, caused this horrible outcome.

I'm now working on using this anger to get justice by going after the above-mentioned so-called vet for malpractice and negligence. Without going into details (due to the sensitive nature of this case and the public nature of this forum), let's just say the battle is now well-underway.

So now, I'm just asking for all those reading this who care about animals to send good vibes my way, and all those who pray to please do so, in hopes for justice in this matter, whatever you deem that justice to be. For me, it's permanent revocation of Dr. Bakili's veterinary license, or at the very least, a years-long suspension, huge fine, and re-training prior to any continued practice in veterinary medicine.

Hopefully I'll be online again before too long with better news, and some good elephant pix from up north (finally!) Watch for those, trickling in this week, as I continue the post-mourning healing process.

Tiwonana for now...

'Cold-stone' hearts vs. 'Warm' hearts -- a very tough battle today...

I just wanted the loyal/faithful M 'n M readers to know that I did not forget about the elephant pix this weekend, but due to an all-day-and-most-of-the-night power outage yesterday, I was unable to upload any pix. Of course, my plan was to do so today, but I had one of my most difficult, and certainly the most traumatic, days in this country for me so far.

Remember this comment from my last post?


2) Penga managed to pull out some stitches Wed. night, causing some panic yesterday (Thurs.) morning, as I called the vet in a bit of a state, worried all her innards would drop to the floor. Luckily, my panic was unjustified, as she seems to be healing o.k. (despite my failed efforts to put a bandage on it, as well as a collar to try to restrain her from biting her wound). She's a pretty strong-willed, energetic little kitty, and luckily hasn't managed to remove more stitches, so we think she'll be o.k. I'm pretty certain, however, that the vet thinks I'm a bit crazy. That's o.k. He's not the first to think so, and certainly not likely to be the last.

Well, as it turns out, unfortunately, I was NOT crazy, NOR over-reacting. Penga pulled out more stitches on Saturday, and again my pleas to the vet that morning to take a look at her went ignored. He offered to re-suture her on Monday, saying I didn't need to worry about her. I definitely put way too much faith in him, as my fears about her wound opening up were realized this morning. Without going into too much detail, what I described above is exactly what happened. Upon the discovery, of course, I panicked, as did Deliwe. Luckily, Harold (our gardner) was around to help us.

Of course, I called the illustrious HACK of a vet by the name of Dr. Bakili, whom I'm hoping to report to some sort of veterinary standards board (if such a thing exists here) and do my best to get his license revoked. He showed no concern AT ALL for my cat, and even when I described what had happened this morning, the only 'help' he offered was the phone no. of his assistant in Zomba (claiming he himself was in Blantyre), who agreed to meet me at the clinic, and then never showed up. We sat outside the clinic with our falling-apart kitty (suprisingly lucid through it all) for over an hour, trying to call every contact at that bloody clinic, and NO ONE would HELP us!

Please forgive me, but today I felt this "Warm Heart of Africa" slogan needed a drastic edit: "Cold-stone Heart of Africa."

Now, I know it's a cat, and not all cultures view pets the same way as Americans do. But, this guy was a veterinarian, assured me he had experience with cats, and could handle this surgery. I now know he was lying just to make an extra buck (about $35 USD, btw...)

Eventually, we did find a doctor friend of mine who runs his own clinic, and was able to help us find a real vet in Blantyre. The doctor called her, and she said as long as we wrapped the cat in a wet towel to keep her innards wet, she should survive the hour-long trip to the office to be re-sutured. Hallelujah.

But, the story of today's ugliness is not yet over. As we'd found a bit of renewed hope that we could save our kitty--Harold had her secured on the floor wrapped in the towel, she was still lucid, but calm, and didn't seem to be in pain (amazingly)-- we thought things might be o.k. Then, I end up at the first traffic stop outside of town, where of course they stopped me for the FIRST TIME EVER! I've learned that whenever I'm in a hurry, that's when those cops decide to scrutinize me. Of course, the illustrious cop looked at my driver's license and noticed that my license plates had expired at the end of March. I tried to explain that I'd been told there was a 30-day waiting period, and that I was planning to renew them this coming Tuesday. After a bit of panicked discussion (the details of which I cannot bear to re-hash right now), he of course confiscated my drivers' license, wrote me up a ticket, and told me I must appear for court in the morning. Great. Just let me go, A*&Hole.

So after that ordeal, we headed to the city, made it to the vet's office, where a nice young female vet from Kenya was waiting for us, ready to take care of Penga. Again, despite how dire it all looked (as you can imagine) the doctor was very calm, and said Penga would be o.k., that the only worry was keeping things moist, and getting good sutures on her. She put her under, and sent me outside to wait. So, we waited. And we prayed. Ya, even me. I don't do that much, but now understand that perhaps it can help, as in the end, our kitty was o.k., sutured up very well. She even gave her an I.V. drip of fluids to replace the ones she lost, telling me that all her innards were o.k., nothing was damaged (amazingly, considering some details I've left out of the story involving the way Penga moved around during a lot of this), and she didn't lose too much blood since there was no damage to the organs.

She also recommended (right after I requested it) to keep Penga for a couple of days to make sure her insides remain o.k. (mostly the intestines), and just keep a good eye on her. She also did an incredible suturing job, that looked like it should. The stitches were small, tight, and very close to one another. I realized then what a real hack that idiot in Zomba is... her sutures last week were too far apart, didn't look tight enough, and had long 'tails' at the end that she could easily bite off. The Blantyre Vet (Dr. Catherine K. Mutunga at the Mudi Clinic across from Maiawathu Hospital-- info. for the Malawian pet-lovers, especially) assured me that the first suturing job was not adequate, especially because the internal stitches were only done on one layer of tissue, when they should be done on two (which of course she had done). "One internal layer is not strong enough to hold," she told me.

So, now Penga is comfortably (hopefully) sleeping at the vet's house (her clinic is at her house) in Blantyre, and seems to be in good hands. I'll be picking her up on Wed., after taking care of the bloody license plate renewal on my car, assuming I'm not thrown in jail after my court appearance tomorrow.

Ya, bloody 'Warm Heart of Africa', alright. (Sorry, but that's how I feel right now... luckily, I did meet up with 2 'warm hearts' today-- plus, the watchman outside of the vet clinic who let us borrow his cell phone all day--to call the lame cold-stone hearts supposedly working there who couldn't be bothered to help us-- and also let us take the phone with us to make calls in Blantyre (since in all the panic, both Deliwe and I had left our cell phones at home). So that's one more 'warm heart.'

As a result, the 'warm hearts' did win out over the 'cold-stone hearts' today, and it appears to be leading to a happy ending (both for Penga's health and, with any luck, my legal driving status--hope the judge is a 'warm heart'). We shall see... I'll keep you posted.

I still can't believe I managed to write about this today. Was planning to keep it short, but I guess I needed the decompression of writing it all down. Thanks, loyal readers! Hope it wasn't as traumatic reading it as it was for those of us who experienced it...

Tiwonana later (don't know when yet...)

Makin' up for lost time...

This latest blog has been a work in progress since Wed. 16 April, and as the loyal M 'n M readers (how do ya like that new shortened-version??? Perhaps a bit cliche? Comments welcome!!) will soon find out, its manuscript-style length can attest to the fact that I've been adding on for the past couple of days, and certainly making up for the last 3 lost days.

I won't give more excuses, but the fact that it did start on Wed. shows that I did my best to get caught up on the now 2-week-old lake stories, while also updating readers on events of this past week. Updates include:

1) Yes, I did start teaching at Chanco on Thursday and Friday, but due to my busy schedule as I wrap up my fellowship while furiously marking papers at Domasi College, I'll only teach for 4 weeks, and the two courses will be combined. The result is that I'll be in the classroom 3 hours/week (instead of 6), and I'll finish on May 9 (instead of later in the month). This was a compromise, but one I can live with.

2) Penga managed to pull out some stitches Wed. night, causing some panic yesterday (Thurs.) morning, as I called the vet in a bit of a state, worried all her innards would drop to the floor. Luckily, my panic was unjustified, as she seems to be healing o.k. (despite my failed efforts to put a bandage on it, as well as a collar to try to restrain her from biting her wound). She's a pretty strong-willed, energetic little kitty, and luckily hasn't managed to remove more stitches, so we think she'll be o.k. I'm pretty certain, however, that the vet thinks I'm a bit crazy. That's o.k. He's not the first to think so, and certainly not likely to be the last.

3) I've decided to limit my adventures this weekend, and just stay put and get some work done, after the week away up north, and last Saturday on the lake with my aerobics group. I'll hopefully also have time to get this blog up to date with pictures, especially the elephants at Vwaza Marsh, and maybe the day at the lake as well. Wish me luck!

OK, so the rest is the original post I started at home on Wed. evening and finally completed today. Enjoy!


Hello, again. I’m now back from the trauma of having Penga spayed, as well as dealing with the reality of having to start teaching again, just after having finished a term, and facing piles of marking. Not that I’m completely over the trauma yet, but now it’s manageable enough to enter another posting on the blog.

I’d actually planned to get this one up last night (Wed. 16 April), but alas, the internet connection was not cooperating, so I’m here writing this one at home on Wed. evening, hoping to get it up on Thursday. If that happens, the two or so loyal, faithful Malawi ‘n Me readers will be the first to know.

So, today was more or less a typical ‘my life in Malawi’ day. I spent much of it trying to get ready for the class I’d planned to meet for the first time this afternoon, typing up syllabi, class rosters, yadda yadda yadda, only to find out in the midst of it all that the head of my department wants to meet with me prior to my first meeting with the class to discuss how we’ll work out the schedule. So, for that reason, I needed to postpone my first meeting with them until tomorrow (Thurs.)afternoon.

This new development freed me up to continue working on some of the things I needed to do to prepare, but despite all my good intentions, including 2 visits to the computer lab (one of 2 places on campus where I can print something), I still had difficulty getting my documents printed due to a paper jam that could not be resolved. Luckily, I got enough done to be almost ready for tomorrow’s class—that is, if I can meet with the dept. head prior to it… ya, there are 2 other meetings in the morning. This is how it seems to work at Chancellor College. The strike was over last week. The Deans then decided to start classes with first-years this week. Soon afterwards, the administration set up several meetings which conflict with class times. Hence, not many classes are meeting, anyway.

The moral of this story is: My four weeks of teaching just turned into three weeks. Perhaps this will dwindle more, considering how things tend to go over there. I’ll keep ya posted.

As you also know by now, Penga went under the knife on Monday afternoon, at the same time that I attended the meeting wherein it was decided that I would teach the first few weeks of two first-year courses at Chanco. I literally left the meeting at around 4 p.m. to pick her up (her surgery was at 2 p.m.). Of course, she was really ‘out of it’, but other than that, she seemed o.k. She slept most of the night, and in the morning, still seemed a bit weak. I was of course paying attention to whether she was pulling on her stitches, and observed that she was bleeding a bit from the stitched-up area.

Now, the Americans out there will understand my panicked reaction, which was to call the vet, letting him know that she was bleeding. The Malawians, however, might think I’m a bit nuts for fussing over a cat. They don’t understand how we can treat our animals like our babies. But we do. I can’t explain exactly why, but we’re nuts for our pets back home. In my case, maybe it’s partly because I don’t have any children. I’m not sure, but I’ve always been very attached to my pets, and yesterday I worried all day about Penga as she recovered from somewhat major surgery.

The vet did recommend that I take her in so he could look at the stitches, but when I did, he just took a look from outside the office, trimmed one of the longer ‘tails’ from a stitch so she wouldn’t tug it, and said, “Oh, that’s fine. Her muscles will bleed a little, but it’s not serious.” “Really?” I said, further questioning his professional opinion, “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure,” he assertively responded, clearly annoyed at my Mzungu panic over a little cat. Like I said, we’re just like that. Can’t help it.

So, the other Mzungu pet lovers out there will be happy to hear that though she continued to bleed a bit in the afternoon (I even had Deliwe watching her because I was invigilating/proctoring another exam), by nightfall yesterday (Tues.), Penga was almost back to normal, eating a bit, walking almost normally, and meowing faintly.

Today, she seems to be generally back to her usual active, loud, hungry self. Whew! To me, the stitches still look a little more ‘open’ than I’d like, but I didn’t see any evidence of bleeding, so that’s good. They also seem to be intact, as it doesn’t appear that she’s bitten any off (by other major fear).

So, with those two sources of stress this week more or less out of the way (but continuing), I suppose it’s time to reminisce a bit about the rest of our lake tour, now about 2 weeks ago.

As you probably have noticed by now, I did post a few pix this past weekend of the trip back south down the lakeshore, including our last two stops on our way back home: Nkhotakhota and Salima. Unfortunately, I still can’t seem to get the pictures into the correct order, so they might just have to stay that way, unless I can find the 20-something blogger gurus to save me from the stress of trying to figure it out all by my little Generation (Jen) X self… oh, the horror!

In any case, if you’ve had a chance to peruse the pix (Ya, the elephant ones are coming—I know, I know… but look at my ordeal this week, and you know why it’s taking so long... patience, patience…) Maybe if you’re good, you’ll get to see a VIDEO this time! OK, don’t hold your breath, but I’ll try… need one of those millennial kids… Anyone out there wanna help a poor JenX figure out how to use a computer? I’m pretty good… even learned DOS back in the day… can you say that? Do you even know what DOS is? Ya, I thought not… so there! You punks! But help me anyway, ok?? pretty please?????

Ya, like that pathetic psychotic plea’s gonna work… Ya never know…

OK, so I’ll get on with it now. After leaving our bamboo hut at the lovely, but beachless Nkhata Bay, we headed south down the fabulous M5 highway along the lake. This highway, by the way, seems to be the best-kept secret in Malawi. Since coming here, I thought there were only two types of roads: 1) Dirt/rocky/bumpy, or 2) narrow, pot-hole-ridden tarmac (i.e. ‘paved’ for the ‘Yanks’). Oh, no, not so. There’s also the M5. Forgive me for saying this, for it will sound a bit ethno/culture/nation-centric (ya, I made that term up, as you can imagine), but the M5 is like an American highway! Wide, nicely paved, smooth, no potholes, and with lines painted on it! You know, the middle lines? Haven’t seen those in awhile. And the ones at the side? Nope. Almost never here. But this road-- Ah… it was almost TOO good. In fact, it surpassed most American roads because not only was it in beautiful condition, but there was virtually NO traffic on it, either human or machine! It was beautiful. Magical. Unreal.

So there we were, on the lovely M5, cruising along, back into the rubber-tree forest. Remember that? We’d gone through at least half of it after passing Nkhata Bay the day before. Of course, there was something there we’d remembered from that day. Something made of rubber. Something we wanted to buy. Large, rubber balls. I know, you thought it was something else. Just shows where your minds are (heh heh). Ya, there are these people, primarily young men and boys, bouncing these really interesting rubber balls along the road in the forest, so Deliwe and I thought we’d stop and buy a couple on our way back through for Pacharo and Noel (Harold’s sons), and Deliwe’s nephews. So, we stopped and bought two of the balls, which looked very interesting… almost as if they were made of several rubber bands.

Well, this purchase proved to be a bit of a risk, as well as a waste of money. More on that later.

We continued along this heavenly highway for about three more hours (if memory serves) to Nkhotakhota. I’d already done a bit of research on where to stay in our little guidebook, and had Deliwe read a bit of the text back to me as a reminder. We actually had to go about 10 miles past the town to find the turnoff to the resorts by the lake. Which, of course, we did. Mostly without incident. The only problem we had is that the signs to the place I’d intended to check out were not as visible as the signs to the ‘Sany Beach Lodge’ (which I think is intended to read ‘Sunny Beach,’ though I never did verify this rumor with the staff.)

Oh, yeah, and another incident, I almost forgot... There was a police barricade (these are typical on Malawian highways) on the way, featuring several signs related to curbing the problem of deforestation, mostly due to the charcoal-making trade, as well as illegal firewood cutting (as wood is a primary fuel source for cooking/heating in the villages). Of course, being such a tree-hugger, I was happy to see such efforts being made to address this issue.

Little did I know that I'd done something earlier on that might have contributed to a certain aspect of this problem. Remember the rubber balls we bought back in the rubber tree forest as we left Nkhata Bay? Well, apparently the sale and purchase of said balls is illegal. And, not only that, but there are signs posted everywhere indicating the name of the rubber company that owns the tree plantations, with a small warning (too small for me, obviously) painted in red, discouraging travellers from buying the balls, as they are made from stolen rubber. When questioned by the policeman about this, I was too distraught about my terrible mistake to ask whether trees are cut down in the process of making these balls, but I'm guessing that they are. AAAHH! I felt horrible. I even offered to let him take the balls, but he said it was ok, as it was obviously the first time I'd purchased them. Perhaps the fact that they were sitting in the back seat proved my innocence and ignorance of what I'd done. I certainly did not try to hide my crime.

Having said all of that, anyone in Malawi tempted to purchase these, obviously avoid it for the above reason, but also they are not worth buying, as it turns out they are filled with air (I thought it was all made of rubber--duh!), and both balls punctured broke within a few hours, went flat, and unfortunately the fun was over quickly. I guess Deliwe and I learned our lesson, and also had the question answered as to why the vendors would suddenly appear out of a 'hiding place' in the forest before coming out to bounce their tempting rubber balls at the side of the road... we couldn't resist!! (he he...)

We went ahead and took a look at Sany Beach, then tried to walk up the beach to see the other places, but decided we were just too tired to keep going, and were also pretty sure those places might be on the pricey side, so we stayed put at Sany/Sunny Beach.

It was a fabulous place, actually. They had chalets right on the beach, a beautiful bar with a natural, rocky terrace overlooking the lake, and a fabulous open-air restaurant. All the things one looks for in a beach-side resort, but at only MK2,000 (about 17 bucks) /night… for a chalet! This was heaven. Forget about the M5. This was the place I could wake up to after dying.

So, due to exhaustion after the drive and hunger after an early breakfast of bananas and biscuits at our bamboo lodge, we decided to leave the car unpacked, make an order with the kitchen, and then get some drinks at the bar.

Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention. Deliwe and I were the ONLY guests at this place. We had it all at our disposal. Well, all that was there… there was no bread in the Kitchen, and no ‘greens’ at the bar. “What’s a green?”, you mzungus back home are asking, right? No, it’s not a little leprechaun or some exotic Malawian cocktail. It’s Carlsberg lager. Ya, not so exciting. Have I forgotten to mention that somehow the Danes have the corner on the beer market here? I have yet to find out the history of that one, but yeah. Most of the time, when you go out for a beer in Malawi, besides the local Malawian ‘Kuche Kuche’ (--ya, cute name, eh? It means something like sunrise, because it’s a bit weak, so you can drink it til sunrise and still work the next day, so the locals claim), you have only 3 other choices (if you can call them that): Carlsberg green, brown (amber), or stout. Ya, it gets old really fast, especially for those of us who are not Carlsberg fanatics (i.e. me). But, I can adapt, especially when it’s beer. I’m from Wisconsin, and I’m half German—‘nuff said.

OK, back to the story. This bar had only Carlsberg Stout. While my little sis Heather the stout lover (who also went to a college of the same name, but I digress) would’ve had much rejoicing over this, I, on the other hand, am not a big stout fanatic. Nevertheless, we were on the beach, and it was beer. And it was cold. So, who cares? I also remembered the Malawi Gin, which I hadn’t tasted in awhile, so since I wasn’t planning on driving anywhere for awhile, I indulged in one or two of those, and then had a couple of stouts, which of course I paid for later with a massive headache that had me in bed by 7 p.m. Ya, I’m getting old, methinks…

So basically, we hung out on the rocks outside the lovely bar, met up with some local kids who thought Deliwe was a goddess because she wore trousers and seemed so worldly coming from the south with this alien Mzungu lady. She even gave some advice to one of the girls to really study hard in school, especially English, or she’d never be able to work for a Mzungu (heh heh). I suppose that’s good advice, no matter the motivation.

I, on the other hand, coaxed a couple of boys into ‘skipping rocks’ with me on the water. This was something we used to do as kids while visiting my German grandmother in southern Wisconsin back in the day. She never had toys or games at her house, so we’d skip rocks in the river across the lakes, for hours, or days, or millennia, as it often seemed. Having a little rock skippin contest with the boys proved a couple of things to me… their skill proved this must be a universal pastime for bored kids (or kids with few resources), and that my skills had certainly diminished over time (or maybe they never were as good as I’d thought). I never got more than 3 skips on one throw, but the boys had 4 or 5 a couple of times. Too bad this isn’t an Olympic sport, eh?

In the midst of our fun times with the kids (including some pushing around on the tree swing outside the bar), Deliwe and I started realizing how long it’d been since we’d ordered dinner. It was actually a late lunch when we ordered it at around 2 p.m. It was now nearing 5 p.m. and we still hadn’t been served. AAAH! No wonder I was feeling weak and dizzy. Luckily, just as I’d started to ask Richard, the cook/waiter from Zimbabwe (his father’s from Malawi, so he came here a few months ago in the midst of the Mugabe-spurred economic crisis which began much earlier) about the food, it was just about to be served.

This brings me to another side-note (wow, I’ve had lotsa those today). For those of you considering a visit to Malawi, keep in mind that there is virtually no such thing as fast-food here. I think I may have mentioned in an earlier posting that McDonald’s does not exist here (Hallelujah! They haven’t infested EVERY culture in the world—yet…). When you order food at any restaurant—large or small, cheap or expensive—expect to wait a good 20-30 minutes for your food. Even breakfast at hotels can take awhile (usually 10-15 mins.) In a way, this is a refreshing thing, but can be a hassle if you’re on a lunch break with little time to spare. Of course, for tourists, that’s not a concern.

Almost always, though, you’ll find the meal is more than worth the wait. This was definitely the case that evening, as we had a fabulous meal of kampango from the braii (grill), rice, and salad. Very well-worth the wait, I must say. And very, very welcome after too much sun n alcohol in the system.

After dinner, Deliwe decided to play with the kids a bit more on the swing, while I went back to the room to change into my swimsuit and jump in. Shortly after I went in, Deliwe joined me, and then the kids. One thing about swimming here that seemed much different from the south, however, was the force of the water. The waves here were much larger, faster, and a bit ominous. Since Deliwe is not a strong swimmer, I just warned her to be careful, and taught her a bit about body surfing, etc. She seemed ok, and we had a great time in the water, until it got a bit dark, and one of the girls in the group of kids warned us that the crocodiles come out after dark. Crocodiles? Really? Though I though this seemed like rough waters for crocs, I wasn’t about to chance it, and out I ran, straight to the wooden hammock I’d spotted earlier that day. I relaxed for a bit, while Deliwe played with one of the rubber balls with the kids on the beach.

Soon, I started to feel a headache coming on, and then it was time to go in. I took a short shower, scrubbing off the sand and pebbles that collected inside my swimsuit during the body-surfing… I had no idea how much stuff had gotten in there! I imagine the fact that my suit has gotten roomier since I’ve lost some poundage was a contributing factor, so I’m not complaining. Ya, that turned out to be s a much-needed shower.

As I mentioned before, the gin/stout-induced headache came on strong, so I took some drugs, and headed for bed at around 7 p.m. Even earlier that Deliwe, which had to be a first. I suppose the fact that the electricity there runs off a generator and the place had limited gas (ya, many things were limited, which is either the result or cause of the lack of guests—maybe both), so we weren’t sure how long we’d have electricity, anyway.

Since we were right on the beach, listening to the waves crashing in, it really felt like we weren’t missing anything, anyway, so it was a good night to sleep early, and be up for sunrise. Ya, the proof’s in the pics at left. I, Jen X, was up at SUNRISE in MALAWI (around 4 a.m.) Even I myself couldn’t believe it, and still really don’t. Could be a first and a last. But I did it. Check it off the list. You know, that one of stuff I need to do before leaving this earth. Done.

So, as you can see from the pictures posted at left, I took a good deal of sunrise photos before Deliwe even opened her eyes to the new day. Another first for me, as I rarely beat her in the waking up early competition…

The rest of the morning was rather typical. Shower, breakfast, a few more photos, and off we went. I wanted to see the famous mission church where the Scottish Anglican Missionary David Livingstone first negotiated with the Jumbe tribal chief on 10 Sept. 1863 (finally found the dates again in my guidebook) under a magnificent fig tree (still standing—see evidence at left) to end the slave trade which shipped people across Lake Malawi from Nkhotakhota. Unfortunately, Livingstone was unsuccessful in this attempt, and Nkhotakhota remained the largest slave market on Lake Malawi (founded in the early 19th century by the half-Arab Jumbe tribe, which ruled Nkhotakhota for several generations). From Nkhotakhota, as many as 20,000 slaves were shipped every year across the lake to Kilwa Kivinje on the coast of Tanzania. There, they were sold in the slave markets on the east coast of Africa (Zanzibar was one of the biggest), at that time ruled by the Omani Arabs --(Again, all according to my ‘Bradt’ Guidebook on Malawi—the only one dedicated to Malawi, as far as I know…).

It wasn’t actually until several years later, in 1890, when British Commissioner Harry Johnston persuaded the ageing Jumbe chief to sign a treaty ending the slave trade in exchange for British protection (also according to the book, almost word-for-word).

Of course, with such a history, I had to visit the mission and see the big fig tree and all. The mission was actually built in 1894, and is also the burial place of Chauncy Maples, the first bishop of the Anglican mission on Likoma Island, established in 1886. Likoma island is in the middle of Lake Malawi, and a great place to visit, I'm told, but not as easy to get to as I'd hoped. This was (and still is) one of the most famous missions in Malawi. Unfortunately, the demise of Chauncy Maples was quite sad, as he was drowned in a shipwreck on the lake during stormy weather while returning to the island from the 'mainland' coast in Salima in 1895, actually just around the time he was consecrated as bishop on the island.

So, all these historical sites are pictured at left, maybe in order, or maybe not, depending whether I can rearrange the photos successfully after finishing this post. Wish me luck!

After finishing our little trip back to the town of Nkhotakhota (also featuring a ride for one of the Sani Bay Lodge managers who needed to buy fuel for the truck and generator-- a sidenote worth mentioning..), we headed south to Salima.

Now, to bring a timely ending to this story, I'll just give a few tidbits about our trip to Salima, specifically the beachfront of Senga Bay:

1) As usual, we did have some trouble finding the hotel where we wanted to stay ('Red Zebra Lodge'), were mis-directed by a few people (including a soldier at one point... ), but still found the place we originally wanted to go, but no rooms were available, so we headed to another place our guidebook recommended, giving a ride to one of the staff at the first place who lived in the area of the 2nd hotel, called 'Caroline's'. Luckily, they had rooms available, but nothing self-contained. I had to compromise my VERY STRONG desire for my own bathroom and HOT SHOWER (had not had one since lilongwe--remember the 'Malawian bath' at Gillo's house and the cold shower at Nkhotakhota?) for a shared bathroom, but which did have an all-day hot shower, a very rare commodity at lake hotels in Malawi.

2) Shortly after arriving at the lodge and heading for the beach (a very nice, mostly empty beach, with strong waves/tides much like Nkhotakhota), we discovered the place had been largely taken over by a huge group (about 20 or so) of very young Brits, mostly women, incredibly similar to those we ran into during our last stay at Liwonde National Park (see prior posting from mid-March for the gory details). Could it be the same people? (As you may recall, it was a group of 17 years-or-so-aged British kids on a 3-month stay, placed all over Malawi as experimental primary school teachers with no actual teaching experience...). The group we'd run into at Liwonde had all gotten together from the different regions of Malawi, and this situation appeared quite similar, as it was graced with at least one giddy, screaming girl reunion on the night we arrived.

Now, if you are a young, white woman in your 20's, please take what I'm about to say with a grain of salt. I'm somewhat convinced that at least part of it is my age talking. Someday you're likely to understand. Wait about 10 years or so, you'll see what I mean. These days, for me, young women (whether British or American), ironically white, blonde women (yes, not unlike myself in appearance--but younger, of course), all look and sound the same to me--same hair, same face, same clothes, same personality, same, same, same-- it's almost like the 'Millenial' generation (as we so lovingly call them) were cloned in a lab somewhere (at least the caucasian females) rather than conceived the traditional way. So, after seeing this group, I never could quite figure out if they were the same as the Liwonde group, but they might as well have been. Just as loud, just as large a group, just as invasive (especially during breakfast) as the other group had been. They literally 'took over' the place. Luckily, we weren't kept up all night this time, as they did seem to end their partying a bit early (at least the ones staying in the room near ours, and sharing the bathroom with us... AARGH! One almost walked in on me, as I imagine knocking was just too much trouble for her.) Sorry if this sounds nasty, mean, and bitter, but I have no tolerance for inconsideration and rudeness, regardless of age, cloning, or any other possible factor. Plus, after having an entire place to ourselves the night before, Deliwe and I were definitely spoiled and intolerant of other travellers, especially loud rude ones.

3) In our plight to escape the hourde of young travellers, we attempted to find another place to hang out by hiking up the beach at around 8 p.m., but to no avail. No other resorts seemed to have a bar, or any type of lounge where we could just hang out. Ya, weird. Caroline's was it. So, after our stroll under the beautiful, starry, Malawi sky, we strolled back in, windblown and weary, but with just enough energy to order one more drink and sneak back up to our balcony (ya, the room had a nice back balcony-- a definite asset) and escape the sound of the chatter of young, drunk females. This, for me, was probably the highlight of my stay at Senga Bay, along with watching the sunset on the outside seating area at sunset. To their credit, the group of kids stayed in the bar most of the time in the evening, so we did enjoy a peaceful Malawi sunset on the beach with a couple of greens... AAAAHHH.

So, with that, I'll conclude possibly the longest M 'n M post so far (with the possible exception of the first one chronicling my first couple of weeks here), leaving you with the anticipation of new pictures to come (and maybe even video!) this weekend. As always, Tiwonana mawa!

Excuses, Excuses... (but good ones, of course)

Ya, today I've got to give my loyal readers some excuses for not finishing the lake stories, nor posting the elephant pictures, as follows:

1) I finally got Penga into the vet (after much ado since returning from up north) to have her spayed (i.e. surgically 'fixed' so she won't have an unwanted/unplanned pregnancy), and had to leave her all groggy, confused, and suffering with stitches at home in order to come to my office and get on the internet. So, I'm a bit worried about her and want to get back and make sure she's o.k. (Deliwe's in class late this evening). The good news is that she WASN'T pregnant after all! Just teasin' that old tomcat, apparently... Good, good Penga! I should've had more faith...

2) We finally also had our meeting at Chanco this afternoon to discuss the belated start of the semester--ya, the meeting was this afternoon, and first-year classes begin tomorrow. My department (Language and Communications) teaches only first years (academic English/study skills). As it turns out, I will have to teach the first four weeks of the course due to a current shortage of staff, but I'm assured another person will be hired during that time to take over the courses when I finish teaching in mid-May. In addition, I'll be able to teach the two courses in one section, so time-wise it should be relatively manageable, despite the fact that I'm swamped with marking papers & exams at Domasi College. Ya, they had to end the strike in just enough time to send me back to class when I'm doing millions of other things before leavin the country... Thanks fer nuthin, Chanco Lecturers' Union! (I'll reserve the rest of my true feelings about this matter for more personal chats...)

3) The bloody pictures at the lake are still scrambled, and I can't seem to fix this issue, so I'm afraid to post more photos at this point... Not to mention I'm really wiped out due to items (1) and (2), as well as the fact that I spent the morning invigilating a 3-hour exam session (Ya, that's 'proctoring' to the 'Yanks').

So, I'm tired, stressed, and just need to chill with my homeys (a.k.a. Penga and Deliwe) tonight. Will try to catch up with the good stuff later on... Tiwonana!

Scrambled Pix of lake...

Hello, all you faithful Malawi 'n Me readers! Just a quick note to let you know I've been struggling with the 'layout' function of this blog for about an hour now, and have decided to give up and try again tomorrow.

The result of this evening's efforts is to your left: A scrambled, jumbled mess of pix of the last 3 legs of our journey last week (the lakeside visits while travelling back south). Please forgive the lack of order to this mess, as it appears I cannot change the order for now. Perhaps you could try to guess the correct order of these pictures, just for fun, until I can fix it.

Of course, when I can do that, I'll also finish telling the exhilarating tale of our last two stops along the lake--Nkhotakhota and Salima (some of which is described with the pix at left...).

And, of course, I'll begin posting the much-anticipated photos (and hopefully video) of our elephant adventures at Vwaza Marsh... Stay Tuned! Tiwonana Mawa (in better order and cohesion, hopefully...)!!

Savin' the Lake for Last--Part One of Two

Hello, again! Due to the rave reviews I've gotten on the last part of my 'trip up north last week' story (2 comments and counting ;-), I guess it's time to tell that last part of the tale-- the lake. By the way, before I start, please make note that I've made a couple of corrections on my picture captions for the "Emperor's View" and the "Queen's View" on the pix of the Zomba Plateau at left. A good Malawian friend of mine set me straight, as I was WAY OFF on my historical facts--er, guesses, on both views. Sorry about that! In any case, check it out for more details...

I also have news about the Chancellor College lecturers' strike. It ended this past week, but now there is not much rejoicing over the proposed academic calendar. More on that in a later post, but let's just say it doesn't look like I'll be teaching much, if at all, at Chanco in 2008, as I'm scheduled to leave Malawi on June 1st of this year. More on that later, too...

So, it's time for the last part of the story, now that you know we survived the 'elephant incident...' The thrill-seekers among you may find this part of the tale a bit less interesting, but I'll do my best to 'spice it up,' while keeping the details mostly accurate ;-)

So, after surviving the near-fatal elephant experience, we headed back to Mzuzu, a bit shaken up, but generally o.k. After a quick trip to bring some of Mac's farm workers from his home back to his quite impressive crop fields where they (the field hands) live, we came back to the house to review the pictures I took of our elephant adventures. Of course, there were many more shots of the happy, playful elephants in the water than of the big bull elephant shortly after our 'Jurrassic Park-esque' ordeal. As you know from my last post, those pix should be up shortly... patience, my friends, I'll get them up, I promise!

The next morning, Gillo took us to visit the secondary school where she works. Even though classes were off for the mid-term break, the Form 4 students were there to study for their secondary-school final exams, so we coaxed them into letting me take a couple of pictures of them in the classroom during a break between study sessions. Several teachers were also there to give class sessions focused on preparing students for their final secondary school certification (MSCE) exams. Of course, those pictures will also be posted to the left this weekend, along with the fabulous elephant adventure pix.

After visiting the school, we went to the fabulous Mzuzu market, featuring several nice goods from Tanzania, especially clothing that can't be found in other parts of the country. Of course, this was a highlight for Deliwe, who (like many women around the world in her age group), loves to shop, especially for clothing. We also managed to find some nice shoes for her younger brother Movuto to wear to school, as well as a good suitcase for Harold, our gardener. Deliwe got a new jacket for the 'cold' months of June and July, and I got a new blouse and a skirt, though due to a lack of 'fitting rooms,' I realized upon my return that the skirt was WAY too small, so it now belongs to Deliwe's already expansive wardrobe. So, after about 2 hours of shopping (a good hour too long for me), we headed back to the house to prepare for our trip to our first stop along the lake, Nkhata Bay.

So, after saying our quick goodbyes, we headed down to Nkhata Bay, only about 50 kms. southeast of Mzuzu. Of course, we expected a nice, short trip, but then again, this is Malawi. and Me. Remember? This means that we ended up taking a few detours before making it to our final destination. First of all, when we took the famous M5 highway into Nkhata Bay, we hit a dead-end and had to turn around. Of course, I took the dead end to mean we'd taken the wrong part of the highway (my lousy travel guide map was no help at all, as usual), so we went back to the main highway (about 15 mins back down the 'bay road spur' as I lovingly refer to it). Once we got to the main M5 highway again, we headed further south. Of course, those who know me will not be surprised that I continued driving for a good 20 mins. or so before I realized I'd gone WAY too far, and had to turn back. I was blessed not only with a lousy sense of direction, but also a lousy sense of distance... the two combine to make me a perpetually lost traveller, unless I have an incredible map, preferably with a guide and compass to go with it... This, of course, has never been the case here in Malawi, so we were in for another 'lost Jen in the wilderness' type of adventure.

After Deliwe asked a nice guy walking along the road in the rubber tree forest (more on that later) which way we should go, we turned around, and then asked a couple other guys for confirmation of the direction/distance about 5 mins. later. Those guys actually needed a ride to the bay (we were actually staying in Ilala Bay), so we let them get in the back while they gave us directions.(Ya, a la "Amazing Race"-- I'm embarrassed to say I sometimes watch that T.V. show back home, but usually don't make it through the hour due to the irritating nature of the people it features)... but I digress...

So, as you may have guessed, these guys directed us right back to the original 'Nkhata Bay road spur' that we were on earlier. Ya, a typical mistake of mine... I never stay on the original path, and trust my instincts. I was pretty sure it was right, but couldn't figure out exactly how... Ya, should've asked for directions back then--duh!

In any case, we headed back in the same direction we'd gone before, and then when the guys told us where to turn right, of course we saw all the signs for several lodges and resthouses, including the one we'd booked, the 'Butterfly Inn.' At that point, we knew we were going in the right direction. So, we headed down the somewhat sketchy, bumpy, muddy road (conditions which no longer make me flinch after all the driving I've done here). As we continued up the road, it started to get muddier, and a bit bumpier, but I felt we could get through it without too much trouble, so we continued. Eventually, we started going up a hill on the edge of the bay, and the road became rocky. No big deal. The roads all over the Zomba area are extremely rocky too, so I just kept going. Then, it got rockier, and bumpier, and I started to get a bit more hesitant. Eventually, we came to a part where there seemed to be a huge boulder sticking up from the road, I shifted into first gear, and tried to gun my little Toyota over it. That's when I heard it. The sound. You know the one. That loud, screeching, scraping sound that makes you think you've completely destroyed the bottom of your car. Ya. That one. AAAH!

I immediately stopped the car and called the "Butterfly Inn"-- or was it the 'Butterfly lodge'? One of the signs said 'Butterfly Place'. In any case, I was wishin I were a butterfly at that point cuz flyin was the only way I was gonna make it there. Of course, I had a funny conversation with the woman on the other line, which I'll chronicle here:

"Hello, Butterfly Lodge (or Inn, Or Place, or Somethin...)"

"Hi, this is Jennifer, the woman who called you earlier this morning."

"Oh, Hello. How are you?"

"Well, not so good. I'm standing in the middle of the road up to your lodge (or inn, or place, or somethin...)"

"Oh, what happened?"

"Well, I tried to drive up this road, but it's pretty bad, and I'm driving a small Toyota Carina. Do your other guests drive on this thing?"

"Yes."

"Really? Do they have 4-wheel drives?"

"Well, some do, but some just come in regular cars."

(The Malawians will like this next one...)

"Are they Malawians, or Mzungus?"

(Calmly) "Well, both, actually."

"Wow, I can't imagine how I could get my car up this thing. I think I'd better turn around and park in town. Are you far from there?"

"No, it's just about 10 minutes walk from town. Not far at all." (HA! As you'll see later)

"OK, we'll have to find a place to park in town, and we'll just hike up."

"OK, see you soon!"

"OK, bye!"

So of course, we turned around (which also was a bit harrowing), with the 2 guys still in the back, and made our way down the hill again.

Once we got back into town, we found the police station, and decided that would be the best place to park the car. So, that's what we did. Of course, we did have to ask permission, and sign a book, and even had one of the officers ask for a ride to Salima the next day (though he changed his mind later), but in the end they let us park it there. Which was good, as we needed a secure area for it.

On a sidenote, both Deliwe and I needed to use the toilet at that point, and let me just say one thing. For people back home, have you ever seen that scene in the movie Trainspotting where the guy needs to use the bathroom urgently, and it's in the back of this pub, with a sign that reads something like, "The most horrible, disgusting toilet in Scotland,"? Well, that's nothin compared to the toilet at the police station at Nkhata Bay. I can say without a doubt (after using several very horrible toilets all over the world) that the toilet we used at Nkhata Bay is the MOST DISGUSTING TOILET IN THE WORLD! I challenge anyone to find a worse one, anywhere. I could've taken a picture, but I was too traumatized (perhaps even more than I was during the near-trampling by the elephant a day earlier).

So, eventually we took care of our business, headed up the hill (about 30 mins., NOT 10 mins.), and found the lodge/inn/place. Of course I was exhausted from the stress of getting lost, finding a place to park, dealing with the disgusting toilet, and hiking up the hill. Once we got up to our little 'stick house' (see pix at left), I told Deliwe I'd PAY her MK500 (about 3 dollars) if she'd go down to the bar (a bit of a hike down the hill) and bring a few beers up. Which she did gladly, without need for payment. Aaaahhh, that was more like it.... We had a great view of the bay from our balcony, and a couple of cold beers, some snacks, and a chat. It was almost worth all that other stuff (gettin lost, using awful toilet, hiking, ya, you know the drill...)

The rest of the stay was relatively uneventful... typical backpacker lodge/inn/place, met some nice people, but most of the people didn't really talk to us much. There was one nice British woman who was living and teaching in Zambia, trying to get a work-visa, so had to stay in Malawi for a bit while that was being processed. Other than that, not much else to tell about Nkhata Bay, except that there's virtually NO BEACH since the water has risen so much in the past few years, I guess due to increased rainfall in the area. Well, one more thing (I just remembered). After my evening shower (around 9:30 p.m.), I saw the most amazing sight... lights from fishing boats filling the bay. This is something I've seen on other parts of Lake Malawi, but not as impressive as it was in the bay.

So, the morals of our Nkhata Bay adventure are... Don't try to drive up the crazy boulder-ridden roads, avoid the police station bathroom, but head for a lodge/inn/place by the bay, have a beer or two, and enjoy the sight of the stars and shipping boat lights at night. Spectacular!

We headed out of Nkhata Bay the next morning, this time back down the coast of the lake to Nkhotakhota (Ya, say that 10 times fast--just like it looks n-KO-ta-KO-ta). This is a good story, and shorter, but I'll have to save it for next time, as it's 12:30 a.m. now, and I've gotta get up early for another trip to the lake tomorrow with my aerobics group (just for the day)... Details later on that!

Tiwonana Mawa or Sunday! ;-)

Elephant (and other) Adventures Up North-- Part Two

OK, I'm back!! So, ya wanna know what happened next, eh? Ask and you shall receive. So, after watching the herd of elephants move up-river, we headed back to the 'camp' area where our guide had determined the elephants had crossed. This area is apparently a favorite of the herd, and in the evenings they usually cross it while heading to another area where they like to spend the night.

With this tidbit of info., Mac was determined to get one last close-up look at the herd before heading home, and I, for one, was seconding that emotion. So, we headed back into the park, looking for our familiar herd of elephants. Sure enough, as we approached the camp area, there was the large bull elephant we'd seen following the herd, as his job (according to our guide) is to protect the family group of females and young. Now, we did spot the great beast in the camp, facing our way, munching on a tree. My instinct was to stay in the truck, and have a nice look at him from a distance. However, our guide, who had seemed quite knowledgeable about elephants up until this point, assured us that it would be safe enough to leave the truck and get a closer look. Despite my protests, all of us followed his lead like sheep. If you sense a foreshadowing, you're in for quite a story...

So, out we go, with Mac apparently making sure the doors were unlocked so we could get in quickly if things went awry. Now, those of you who have seen the movie 'Jurassic Park' may see a parallel in what happened next. Remember how we were so thrilled when we first saw the herd of elephants, happily playing in the water? How amazing, beautiful, and sublime it all was. At this point, if there were a soundtrack to our trip, it would be playing that eerie music that builds up to a certain tension, as we move closer to the elephant. At first, all looked o.k. He was at a relatively safe distance, eating tree branches, barely taking any notice of the little, diminuative humans in his midst. Stewart (our guide) even convinced us to pose for a picture with the big bull elephant in the background to share with our friends. Once I get it posted, you'll see the pic to the left, and what you'll notice is that not only do we all have somewhat bewildered looks on our faces, but the elephant is no longer there. Mac thinks he's pointing to it, but, alas, the big guy had moved just after we'd turned our backs to him. Oh, yeah. We were idiots all right. Keep in mind now that the guide is taking our picture, so can see that the elephant is moving, but seems unphased, so we're thinking, "OK, we must be safe... right?" Wrong.

So, we turn around, realizing his movement, and starting to feel a bit unsure about this whole thing. Luckily, Gillo had made note of the bathrooms earlier, so I'd planned my escape to that building, just in case. Good thing I did, because we were so focused on the big bull, that we didn't realize there was another large elephant much closer to us, rustling among the trees about 30 yards away. AAAAHHH! As soon as we realized, it, our guide started trying to scare it off by clapping, and then it moved closer, so we started running for the bathroom. I think I was the most panicked of us all.

Now, I love animals, especially elephants, which have always been my favorite. But, one cannot love anything or anyone without a certain level of respect. Especially something this big. Now, what happened next will shock you. Stewart, the illustrious guide, to whom Mac and I had just paid some money for his services prior to this incident (in our delight over seeing the elephants swimming), decided to ward both elephants off by clapping his hands (an action which he believed scared them off because it sounds like gunshots) and eventually throwing things at them. Ya. This guy was an idiot. I'm sorry to say that about someone on this public forum, but I wanted to strangle him.

He told us to stay in the bathroom, and that he'd get the elephants out of the area. Then, he proceeded to clap and throw things at them, while they proceeded to become more agitated, trumpet loudly, and move closer in our direction. All we could do was huddle inside the ladies' room, hoping the structure was too strong for two huge elephants to ram through. Oh, ya... Jurassic Park all the way. Remember the lawyer hiding in the toilet? Ya, that was us... but it was real... too too real for my blood.

At one point Stewart coaxed us into coming out of the bathroom, only to lob something at the elephant, causing it to trumpet and begin another charge... Good thing we weren't too far from the toilets. At that point, I'd had it... I summoned up just enough courage to poke my head out of the toilet door to literally yell at Stewart, pleading with him to stop throwing things at the bull elephant (I'm not sure where the other one had gone at that point). "You're provoking him!" I said. "Really?" he replied. Elephant expert my A--! This guy was a clown! A rodeo clown that teases Bulls... no... A Safari Clown! Do they have those? He deserved to be trampled to death, but I wasn't goin down with him! I would stay in that toilet until the end of time if that's what it took.

Luckily, Stewart came to his senses and stopped throwing things and clapping loudly, and eventually the elephants retreated back towards the lake, and we made a run for the truck. Ya, it was one of those things like in those dreams I often have, where I'm running, but I can't really move, or open my eyes, or there's something making me go in slow motion... Not sure if other people have those dreams, but I do, and this was like that. My heart was pounding, and it felt like the truck was 20 miles away, and the elephants were right behind us. AAAHHH! Then, of course, we make it to the truck, and my bloody door was LOCKED!! AAAAAHHHH! I of course screamed at Mac to get in and unlock the door, as I was freakin out... Of course, I looked like the biggest idiot of all, as Malawians have this amazing capacity of remaining calm in any circumstance (at least based on what I saw in my companions that day). I was doin the crazy panicked mzungu dance pretty much from the time of the ridiculous snapshot until we got into the truck. Everyone else seemed o.k. Deliwe told me she was really scared, but her face (and voice) never showed it. Truly remarkable.

So, in we went, the car started-- whew! And off we went. Of course, a couple of hours later, we all had a good laugh about it, but I must say that's the scariest experience I've ever had in my life. As we say back home, don't f--k with mother nature. Respect the wild, and all the things in it. I'll never forget this day, as long as I live.

We all went home a little wiser that night, and feeling just a bit smaller and less powerful than we once thought we were. The elephants rule in this land. Respect and protect. That's the moral of my story. All true. The pix tell much of it, so watch for those. Mac later joked that I should've taken a video during our ordeal for the blog. Not possible. Or maybe if it was like those 'Blair Witch' people a few years back, but that was just too annoying for words. I could never do that, anyway, but certainly I was in no state of mind to fumble with a camera when I was trying to save my a-- from huge angry elephants. Which means the faithful blog readers will have to settle for a video of swimming, playing, happy elephants, when and if I ever figure out how to compress and post a bloody video. Stay tuned.

By the way, I just remembered that I can cross another thing off the 'Things I wanna do before I die' list. No, running from angry elephants was not on the list, but seeing a large herd of elephants near and inside a body of water in the wild is actually on the list. Good thing I got to do that shortly before I almost got trampled by one or two of them, eh?

So that's my story and I'm stickin to it. Tomorrow watch for what happens next--this time at the lake, much more serene, and much less eventful--Whew! Tiwonana Mawa!

Elephant (and other) Adventures Up North: Part One

So, as promised, it's time now to chronicle the adventures of my trip up north last week. Since my last post was all pictures and few words, this one will make up for that by featuring several (ok probably TONS) of words and no pictures. Because uploading pictures can be quite time-consuming, especially since I took many, many pictures during that trip, I'll save that for later, and likely will upload them bit-by-bit, so keep on checkin for those!

Our trip began on Saturday, Mar. 29 with a short stop at the Village to Village orphanage to check on the project. While there, we met up with our two artists/painters in charge, Essau and Alfred, who were laying the foundations of the scenes and characters for the dividing wall and inside walls of the reading room so that the kids could help out. Once we (Deliwe and I) arrived, we enlisted the help of Village to Village director Alfred to round up a few kids to help out with the painting. Of course, not only was this great fun for the kids, it also provided a few perfect photo opps. as you can see to the left of this post. Since we had such a great time watching the kids, a good hour had gone by before we left them to finish the project. After coming back from my trip on Friday, April 4, I did check on the project again, and oversaw Essau taking care of some final touches. So, now the painting phase is finished, and we can concentrate on stocking the area with furniture, and of course, BOOKS! YAHOOOOOOOOO!!!

As I've mentioned, some requests I've made by e-mail have turned out very fruitful results, especially due to a book drive held at the Pine Ridge Middle School in Naples, Florida. I'm especially looking forward to receiving the 12 large packages of books their geography instructor Kim Gonder managed to send off last week. As I said, you guys ROCK! Thanks so much!! And, of course, thanks also to my various friends who have sent books... even small contributions are a big help to us, and the kids are SO excited. I took more pictures of them on Friday as proof of their elation, so watch for those as well this week.

So, after our visit to the orphanage, off we went to Lilongwe for just an overnight stay at my favorite hotel, the Kiboko Town Hotel, where I've stayed four times so far while in transit in Lilongwe (the first of which being my visit for purchasing my car). The night in Lilongwe was rather uneventful, except for a visit to a nice Indian restaurant there, where we both enjoyed a nice lamb kharma dish and some traditional Indian-style bread (both were firsts for Deliwe, so she was very thrilled.) After that, just back to the hotel for a beer on the balcony and a chat while watching the not-so-busy street (ya, even in the cities, things pretty much die down after 8 p.m.), followed by a liesurely evening watching T.V. in the room. This was the only hotel room on our journey featuring a T.V., and since we don't have one at home, this was rather exciting for us. Despite that, the viewing choices were a bit limited -- BBC World News was the highlight for me (Zimbabwe Election Mess!), and the "Super Story" soap opera from South Africa was Deliwe's favorite (though I don't really 'get it' myself-- definitely a cultural difference.)

In the morning, we enjoyed a lovely free breakfast-- this is worth mentioning because each time I've stayed at this hotel, I've somehow missed the breakfast. I don't think it's because I've been particularly lazy, only because I've had to run off to somewhere early in the morning, and didn't realize breakfast was included (as it often is at hotels here). AARGH! I finally got to see what I'd been missing! They even had fresh coffee served in one of those French Press things (ya, I'm so cultured, eh?). Wish I could make up for all that missed food somehow, but alas, now I'll know next time.

On Sunday morning, we headed north to Mzuzu, which is a good 4-5 hour drive north of Lilongwe (which, by the way, is about 4 hours north of Domasi--though I made it in a little over 3 hours this time... leadfoot, perhaps?). So, we knew we had to get going pretty early in the morning. We managed to start our drive out of town by about 9 a.m., which was pretty good after a liesurely breakfast-- those who know me well may be very shocked, as back home I'm scarcely awake by 9 a.m. on weekends or holidays... Malawi has certainly changed me in this aspect. Before leaving Domasi, I'd been in touch with a couple of my Distance Learner students whom I taught at Domasi College of Ed. (DCE) in November. Both had told me they lived in the Mzuzu region, and I had agreed to visit them if I ever made it up north. One of these two students, Gillo Moyo (whose class will also be participating in a pen-pal program with some students at Pine Ridge Middle School) kindly invited Deliwe and me to stay with her family. After asking her a couple of times whether it was really o.k., I decided to take her up on her offer, and was very pleased that I did. More on that later.

The other student's name is Ken. I'll keep his surname out, as the situation with him turned out to be one of those 'culture-clash' issues. Without elaborating too much, it turned out that this student lived a good 200 kilometers south of Mzuzu, but had led me to believe that he lived just outside of town. Of course, I was visiting him at his house before I realized this, and once he was in my car, he confessed to me that he expected me to bring him all the way back home from Mzuzu, and didn't have transport money to come back on his own. Since we were planning on returning home via the M5 highway along the lake, rather than the M1 which goes through his town, I knew I wouldn't be able to bring him back home.

In the end, I reluctantly agreed to pay his transport, but the miscommunication issue was a bit bothersome. On several occasions that I'd spoken with him, he described his home as being 'near Mzuzu,' but it's about as near to Mzuzu as Domasi is near to Lilongwe. I'm not sure whether this was a language barrier or a communication barrier, but based on his command of English, I'd say it was the latter. Sometimes these things happen here, and I'm learning not to overreact, but let's just say I was a little more than annoyed with him that day, and of course reminded him that he is my student, and I have yet to assess his grades. Of course, I was joking, but it did get him thinking a bit...

So, after about a 1-hour delay at Ken's house-- also a miscommunication, as he wasn't quite ready to go--we headed on to Mzuzu, and about 2 hours later met up with Gillo and her husband Mac. They were so happy to see us, and very grateful that we'd agreed to stay with them. In the end, I stayed with them the first night, while Deliwe stayed with Jen, the sister of one of our neighbors at Domasi who's a good friend of hers. Jen's living and working in Mzuzu, and her younger sister Theresa also stays with her, so they had a nice time catching up that night.

After dropping Deliwe at her friend's house, Ken and I went with Gillo to her house, where a huge spread of food was waiting for us. I was soon to find out that this was the norm at her house. Almost every meal had about 5 dishes or more, all very delicious and abundant. I joked that if I stayed too long, I'd gain a good 20 pounds. Most of the time we had meat, one or two vegetables, rice, nsima, and sometimes potatoes, all in one meal. Wow. This was very dangerous for me, now that I'm trying to keep the extra weight I've lost since coming here from coming back! It was very tough, but I think I've succeeded. Sometimes it's a blessing not to have a scale around...

After our meal, we took Ken to the bus stop, and then went to the vegetable market, and walked around a bit, talking about life, Malawi, and the pen pal program. Gillo is very excited about it, and is anxiously awaiting the arrival of the letters from Florida, which Kim tells me were sent late last week. Good stuff.

After we got back to the house, we spent some time researching what to do the next day, which was a bit of a challenge, because we were in the middle of an electricity blackout which had lasted all day. We eventually decided to go to Vwaza Marsh, which is a small wildlife park about 2 hours' drive from Mzuzu, and much closer than the big Nyika National Park, the largest National Park in Malawi. Of course, I'd originally planned to visit Nyika, but upon further research found that it would require much more time than I had, as well as more funds, since the roads there require a 4-wheel-drive vehicle this time of year due to rain damage. In the end, Gillo's husband Mac convinced us to rent a truck and go to Vwaza for the day, then stay with them one more night in Mzuzu. This turned out to be one of the best decisions I've ever made. More on that later, too...

So, once those plans were figured out, by that time the lights had come on again, we had another huge, amazing meal, and then it was bible-reading time. I was a bit wary of this, as I'd just revealed to Gillo and her kids (Mac was out at a meeting) that I don't follow any organized religion. I think they were worried for my soul, even though I explained that I'd been baptised and raised in the Christian faith (assuming that such activities save one's soul). In any case, the reading was interesting, as the family got together to read a passage and give their own interpretation of it, rather than just reading it and dictating an interpretation. The kids were also encouraged to discuss, though they did stay rather quiet. I'm not sure if my presence caused that or not. But, in any case, I thought anyone of any faith should be encouraged to do this sort of thing, as it encourages people to find their own meaning in the teachings of the 'holy books', rather than being told how to interpret what is said or what rules they must live by. Now I suppose I've revealed one reason I no longer follow a prescribed faith. In any case, I found their approach interesting and refreshing.

Soon after that it was bedtime, and on to the adventures of the following morning (Monday). We'd arranged for the truck the night before, so we were all set to go. However, before setting off, I needed to take a bath. Now, this is where it gets really interesting. I took my first true Malawian bath that morning. The Malawians know what I'm talking about, but I must describe it for the rest of you. Gillo led me to the bathroom, and inside there were two large plastic buckets, like laundry buckets. I just looked at them, and my puzzled expression was a bit obvious. "How do I do this?" I asked as politely as I could, to which Gillo responded, "You've never taken a bath like this?" "No," I replied. "Oh, ok. Well, this bucket has cold water, and that bucket has hot water, and you use the ladle (big plastic one) to splash the water on your body." "O.K. Can I wash my hair?" I asked, still bewildered. "Of course! Just rinse off with the water!" "OK, Thanks," I said. And then she shut the door. It was shortly after that when I realized I also only had a small towel with which to dry off. Luckily, I'd worn my clothes inside, so I wouldn't have to streak naked through the hallway afterwards.

As for what happened next, I'll leave some of it up to the readers' imaginations. I fumbled with the ladle, trying to get the right mix of hot and cold, crouching down, then standing up, not sure which one was better, hoping no one could somehow see me through the door, because I knew I must've looked really strange through it all. In any case, I did this twice... Monday and Tuesday morning, and it was quite the experience. Though Gillo and Mac do have a shower, they're renovating their house, so it wasn't quite all set up yet. Hence, my makeshift Malawian bath. This, by the way, is how they bathe in the village. I was glad to learn this, as I'd often wondered how people bathed without running water, and especially when not living near a river or lake. I'd noticed since coming to Malawi that people are usually very clean, regardless of their standard of living. Now I know, first hand, how it's done. But, they don't use the ladle... just water and hands. I guess I was spoiled.

So, after my interesting bath experience, it was time to head out. I was especially excited about this trip because Mac was driving. AAAH... a whole day without having to drive... this was like Heaven to me. We stopped to pick up Deliwe, and off we went. Now, this story has a major highlight, so I'll just cut to the chase. We drove to the park, and spent a bit of time there, found a guide, and not many animals. However, we did see a decent herd of elephants from across the lake in the middle of the marsh, so we knew there was potential there. Vwaza Marsh has quite a few elephants, so we'd heard. Mac and I were very intent on seeing some up close, especially since he'd never gotten a close look at an elephant before. Soon, he'd be in for more than he'd bargained for.

After our initial sighting across the lake, we decided to head to the 'camp' area of the park, where our guide (Stewart) said the elephants often could be seen more closely. Sure enough, we could see a couple of large bulls in the distance. The guide then told us we should actually exit the park and head for the bridge across the river, as the spot where we saw the elephants is a popular crossing point for the herds. So, we did just that. And that was it. We saw the most amazing thing ever. The two original elephants became three, and four, and five, and more and more and more. Eventually, a good herd of about 40 elephants emerged from the marsh, and one by one got into the river. While a couple of them simply crossed the river, several others stayed in the water and swam, played, ate, and did everything an elephant could possibly do (well, almost everything...). Eventually about 20 elephants were in the water at once. Right under us... We could see them so well, and safely, because the slope of the land around the bridge was too steep for them to climb. Wow. Of course, I took a ton of pics, many of which I'll upload later on... of course, those will be worth more than any of the words I could use to describe it. Simply amazing.

Mac and I stood there gaping for at least 2 hours, while Deliwe and Gillo actually had gotten tired and sat along the side of the road. We'd have stayed longer, but most of the elephants were females and their young (since this is how they're organized... Females travel together with their young, and older males travel separately-- sometimes alone, sometimes with other males), they'd eventually picked up the human scent from the bridge, and decided it wasn't a safe place to cross, so turned around and crossed the river further upstream (or was it downstream? I'm not quite sure).

It was after this movement of the herd that things got very, very interesting, exciting, but also a tad bit dangerous (I use 'tad' to mean 'huge'). Now, I think I'll save the rest of the story for tomorrow's post, as it is now past 10 p.m., and definitely very close to my bedtime... well, actually past it. So, what do you think will happen next? Tiwonana Mawa and I'll tell you! Stay tuned!

Pictures only today...

Hello, all the loyal, faithful, fabulous Malawi 'n Me blog readers! I'm sure you're wondering why it's been so long since my last post. Well, this time I have more than just the intermittent internet and electricity to blame. Since our classes ended last week Friday 28 March, I decided to take a trip to the north part of Malawi last week Saturday, 29 March, and just returned this past Friday, 4 April. Of course, on the Friday prior to my departure, there was no internet service, and no internet access during my trip as well. When I returned on Friday, I vowed to update the blog that evening, but after checking my hundreds (no joke) of new e-mails from the week prior, and then losing my internet connection, I decided it wasn't meant to be until the next day. Of course, the next day (Sat. 5 April), I woke up to no electricity, a condition which continued throughout the day and into the evening. Alas, Sunday was the day. Luckily, I had very good internet service today, but of course was interrupted by an electrical blackout in the midst of my blogging. Thus, I was only able to update the pictures taken of events prior to my trip up north-- some good stuff-- check it out at left!

In sum, it appears the faithful will have to wait patiently just one more day for the usual fabulous, detailed, long-winded (but of course incredibly interesting) narration of my adventures up north. Hopefully, internet and electricity-willing, I'll also get the pictures up as well. I'll do my best.

For now, I must go, as it is WAY past bed-time for me... 11:30 p.m.!! I can't remember the last time I was conscious at such an hour, and NOT in my house!! Ah, the horror! Tomorrow morning, we're takin Penga to the vet. It seems she found a boyfriend while we were away... and he's an older man. Ya, they had a nice (howling) chat through the windows my first night back-- great fun! Hopefully it's not too late to prevent an unplanned pregnancy. Wish me luck on that. Tiwonana Mawa!