One Piece of Africa

We just returned from a long weekend in Laikipia, an area just north of the Kenyan Equator and in the shadow of Mount Kenya. Rose has a friend with an enormous piece of land out there. It’s basically a private game reserve that doubles as a sheep and cattle ranch. I don’t know how to describe the size of this piece of property, except by saying that it includes an entire set of hills, several valleys, and about 3,500 zebra. You can drive for hours on end and still not cross half the property.

It’s absolutely enormous.

Like I said, it has hills and valleys. And plains and forests and meadows and cliffs. It has dams and cattle pens and houses and barns. It has roads and paths and electric fences. And it has giraffes, elephants, zebras, lions, antelopes, gazelles, impalas, baboons, leopards, cheetahs, buffalos, monkeys, warthogs. You name an east African animal, and my guess is that it might be there. Except for hippos and rhinos, I think.

I saw lots of animals. And it was so cool hiking through the hills alongside them. To my disappointment, we didn’t see any big cats while we were out there. Though we did see very fresh lion prints, and we then proceeded to track the lion on foot along with our guide and our ranger. We did not find it.

There was a massive herd of elephants in the valley near the main house. The first day we saw them from the hill overlooking a dam. The second day we saw them crossing the plains through the valley. The third day we hiked into the valley to see them up close. Now, when I heard that we were going to see the elephants, I figured we would see them actually up close. I did not realize how much of a threat elephants can pose to humans. I guess they like to charge and attack, if people get too near. So our getting close to the elephants meant walking along, but always making sure to keep a distance of at least half a football field. I was a bit bummed. But being able to see the elephants as they ambled along, tusks flashing, trunks searching for food, ears flapping – we were close enough to see that.

There were so many elephants crossing the valley that we kept having to change course. Elephants were on all sides, and somehow we were in the middle. It didn’t help that most of them had baby elephants with them, meaning that the mommas would be even more aggressive. Eventually we scaled a big hill in order to get out of the way. I thought it was great, and, good naïve American that I am, I was not scared in the slightest. I guess I’ll be much more cautious of elephants in my future.

The whole fact that this all actually exists is sort of unbelievable. There were animals everywhere, simply living in this immense space, and I was able to visit. If I had dared to imagine anything about some sort of American-idealized Africa before coming here, this is the sort of thing I might have visualized. And it’s real. Yet at the same time, it’s a private piece of property that I was unusually lucky to have had the chance to visit. So many people here, especially Africans, never have anything like this opportunity. So while yes, this is Africa and this is beautiful, it’s not what Africa is. It’s a piece – not a small piece – but definitely just a piece.

I'm learning just how much Africa is in every way. That's why I want to be here.

#springbreak2k15

Two things I’ve learned in Malawi, 1) travel is always interesting, 2) public transportation is always interesting.

Over Easter weekend, two volunteers and I decided to take a spring break trip. Thursday morning, Erin (from England) and Saskia (from Germany) and I left for the Mushroom Farm in Livingstonia. Side-note: the Mushroom Farm isn’t what it sounds like – it’s just an eco-lodge in the mountains overlooking Lake Malawi.

Context for this blog post: Erin and Saskia love mocking the American idea of wild spring breaks, so we decided we’d have our own, African, spring break experience. Full of adventure and selfies and fun.

We had intended to leave early on Thursday morning, but when we awoke, it was raining crazy-hard. Instead we had an enormous breakfast while we waited out the rain. Eventually it slowed enough for us to walk to town, we got in a shared taxi, and headed to Mzuzu. No marriage proposals on this ride. However, Erin and I were in the backseat, right next to the trunk of the van, where was stored a cardboard box full of fresh fish. That made for a pleasant ride.

After a stop at the grocery store and at an ATM (which worked, surprise!) we went to get a minibus up to northern Malawi. As we approached the minibus area, someone asked us if we were going to Livingstonia, we replied that we were, and he motioned us to jump into the minibus that was about to depart. We looked at the full bus and said, “Um, I don’t think so. I don’t think there’s any room for us.” He shook his head and told us we’d all be seated together in the back row. So we got in. We were in the row with another man, our knees pressed against the seats in front of us, all our bags and things on our laps, our hips jammed against one another. It was very comfortable.

Almost as soon as we started driving, we stopped again to pick up more people. I was reminded of travel in Honduras. There was a super sharp piece of metal on the seat digging into my thigh. At one point in the 2.5-hour ride, I think I counted 26 people in the minibus, with a minimum of four people in each row.

We got off the minibus at the bottom of the mountain where Mushroom Farm is located. We waited a bit for a truck to go up the mountain, hopped into the back, and began our steep and curvy ascent. Now, there are 18 marked bends in the road up the mountain, with countless others. After Bend 4, our truck broke down. The driver tried to repair it five times, with no success. Just as we were about to get out of the truck and begin walking up the mountain, the driver announced that all was fixed and that we were ready to go. This time, after we rolled a pretty scary distance backwards down the road, the engine kicked in.

Around Bend 10, the truck broke down again. This time the driver told us to all get into the back of a cargo truck in front of us, also heading up the mountain. When we got on, there were already 25 people in the new truck. We were the only white people. The road was curvy, steep, and bumpy, and the driver wanted to make it to the top extremely quickly. Trying to find my phone to take a picture of the situation, I let go of the side of the truck, I immediately body-slammed into the woman next to me, and then slammed in the other direction into Erin. Everyone in the truck was extremely entertained and we were laughing so hard. I got no photo.

Eventually we arrived at Mushroom Farm. I can’t even explain how gorgeous Mushroom Farm is. It’s in the forest; it looks over a valley, a lake, and mountains. On the other side of the lake, the mountains of Tanzania are visible. And because we were there during the rainy season, fog and clouds kept coming into the valley and surrounding our mountain. Breath-taking would be an understatement.

Friday morning we went to Manchewe Falls, the highest waterfall in Malawi, conveniently located a short hike from the Mushroom Farm. After finding the falls and successfully shaking off the boys who wanted to be our guides, we hiked all around and discovered that there were various waterfalls. We think we found the waterfall, but we’re not exactly sure. Farther up the mountain we walked to the actual town of Livingstonia, where Scottish missionaries built a church and a community in the 1890s. It was a bit surreal. There was all this European architecture in the middle of Malawi, surrounded by the typical construction of the country, as well. We finally found the church, which was full of people eating lunch and practicing for Easter.

Saturday morning, Saskia and I went to hike up to Chombe Plateau. It would be a full day hike, and Erin wasn’t feeling great. We had to hire a guide. Almost as soon as we began walking, he led us through someone’s property. A few guys came over to talk to our guide, and it looked like they had dead sparrows in their hands. It took us a moment, but we soon realized that our guide, Thomas, was buying birds from them. He bought three and proceeded to tuck them into his front shirt pocket. We couldn’t believe what was happening, and Saskia and I casually asked him, “Uh, Thomas, did you just buy some birds?” He replied that they were for dinner. I asked if they’d be better if he bought them fresh, at the end of our hike. He laughed and told us that they would still be fresh.

Saskia and I had decided we would hike quickly, so that we would get back to Erin before dark. (Meanwhile, back at Mushroom Farm, it turned out I had accidentally locked Erin in our room, and she really needed to use the bathroom. She called for help and was freed.) So here are Saskia and I, hiking along this road on top of a mountain, and poor Thomas can’t keep up. Eventually we got to a turn in the road and had no idea which way to go. We looked back for Thomas and could not see him. Saskia called his name and we heard, “It’s okay, I’m coming! I bought another bird from a man in the forest!”

The last stretch of the hike to the plateau was a steep, muddy path through  tall grass. We made it up the mountain with some difficulty. But the view at the top was incredible. We ate a lunch of tomatoes, peanuts, and Doritos, took loads of pictures, and began the hike down. Which, I will admit, was full of the two of us tripping and falling down the mountain.

Sunday morning we left Mushroom Farm (after a full breakfast, of course,) and decided we’d hike down the mountain, taking all the shortcuts past the bends. We made it down with not too many muddy falls. The ride back to Nkhata Bay was much less eventful, as we hitched a ride with a friend from Butterfly.

Our spring break trip was so much more fantastically Malawian than any spring break trip I’d ever imagined.

Yet Another Ending

I wrote this post two days ago, and have just now found some internet. Hurrah.

This morning I awoke at 4:57am, finished packing a few things, and set out in the rain with my enormous backpack. I made it into town for the 6am bus heading south along the lakeshore, back to Lilongwe. The bus resembled a city bus, with five uncomfortably falling-apart seats sandwiched into each row, and over the next ten hours the bus became progressively more full of people. I spent the day eating scones and tomatoes (yesterday's preparative purchases,) listening to podcasts, attempting - quite unsuccesfully - to stretch my cramped legs, and staring at the man in the aisle dangling six large fish from one hand.

I’ve been in Malawi for a month. I’ve seen a completely different life pace that can translate to lots of waiting around, but also to a very distinct cultural energy. I've eaten lots and lots of carbs, probably mostly mandazzi, the freshly fried handmade donuts. I've witnessed more amazing sunsets than I’d imagined, and I've learned to use the sunset as a weather predictor - my iPhone weather app does not work without internet, so I've adequately made use of my resources.

Over the past few weeks I worked a lot with the disabled group at Butterfly. My favorite thing about Mondays with the group was their ability to laugh. They honestly spend a significant portion of each meeting just laughing good-naturedly at each other’s disabilities. We had a good time. Their innocence and willingness to learn and love is remarkable. It became so much easier and so much more enjoyable to be with them each week, to the extent that I always looked forward to the group despite how exhausted I knew I’d be when they left. Whether bathing a person in the lake, hiding chocolate Easter eggs, or feeding someone lunch, working alongside these individuals was new to me. I can’t yet word how much this group meant to me while I’ve been here, or how much I learned from them.

Besides our Monday sessions, Saskia (my German friend) and I did home visits for the disabled group members. Along with a translator, we walked through the hills and into nearby villages to meet with families. There we checked on participants who had been absent for a while, or new people to invite to our group. On two visits I was completely blown away by the love and care that the families showed towards their disabled children, given the unimaginable way that many disabled individuals are frequently treated in Malawi. I left these homes feeling truly happy and positive. I know in my head that their road will be so so difficult, but it was beautiful to witness the depth of care in these families.

On a totally different note, something I’ve heard and thought a lot about since coming to Africa is the idea of the poverty mentality. This idea that someone in deep poverty will try to get absolutely as much as they possibly can out of any given situation, whether that situation is foreign aid or trash on the road or a school education. And while yes, I have seen versions of that idea at times here, I’ve also completely seen the flip-side.

At Butterfly, I led Youth Club twice a week for public school kids in the area. We did fun and educational activities, with the aim of giving the kids opportunities that they wouldn’t otherwise have. That not only meant art projects and new games, but also the chance to interact with and learn from people of all different cultures. Two weeks ago we began Youth Club with a drawing activity. We were imagining what the inside of Lake Malawi looks like, underneath the surface of the water. While they drew, I set up field day games. Once I was ready and I’d seen that they were done drawing, I called them over to where I was waiting. I assumed they’d drop everything - games! - maybe they’d pocket a few colored pencils, abandon the materials, and race over.

Later, I walked past the drawing area. There I found a neat stack of drawings alongside three perfectly packaged boxes of pencils. Without ever being asked, these students had spotlessly cleaned up their activity, and every last pencil was still in place. At that moment, any idea that I held of the children of Africa or their poverty mentality was shattered.

So I guess this concept of a poverty mentality - whatever that actually means - is something I’m still working to wrap my head around. Because as we walk down the streets, kids will yell “mzungu, mzungu, give me money!” Or on a particular disabled visit, a mother told me that her family would need a new roof on her house in order to heal her disabled son. But there are also children that I work with who literally don’t even assume that they will get to take their drawings home. 

I knew this before coming to Malawi, but I’m realizing more and more how true it actually is: there is a whole culture here that I haven’t even begun to enter or understand at the surface. And I'm so glad that I've seen enough of it to be able to recognize that observation.

I’ll head back to Kenya tomorrow.

On a fun note, I learned last week that that the tap water in Nkhata Bay (which was also our drinking water) is pumped directly from Lake Malawi. It was super great to realize that I, and most of Malawi, swim, bathe, and wash clothes, in my drinking water.

Oh. And I’m a certified diver now! Also, I went on my African version of spring break last weekend and a blog post on that adventure will likely be coming soon. Stay tuned.