Bua River

After field work in Nkhotakota I treated myself to a day of relaxation at Bua River Lodge, a little hedeaway deep in the lush Nkhotakota Wildlife Reserve. The park itself is basically a huuuge forest, making it virtually impossible to track and find any of the big game (elephants, lions etc.) Yet the rushing river alone was well worth a visit... as was the troope of vervet monkeys ( i call them blue ball monkeys because the males have bright, robins egg blue balls, for serious. personally i think its sort of weird, but, i guess lady monkeys are into that kind of thing) who spent the afternoon with me, climbing around the rafters of the open thatched lodge while i read my book and looked out over the river. i wasnt completely sedentary, however. Went for a walk in the woods with Juma my guide and a game scout. 

but first, a 'bush breakfast'... which interestingly enough was for more luxurious than my usual slurp of coffee 

apparently the river completely changes its personality with the season and the weather. now its ' anger' according to Juma with high and super silty waters from the rains



even though its not common to see game in Nkhotakota, we did see several crocs sunning on the sandy banks, a bush buck ( an african deer-ish beast) and prints of hyena, and white spotted river otter, and elephants in the mud. as well as an olive baboon colony. baboons are great. they bark like dogs, and have this amazing gallop-y sort of run. and they are just so human... two young ones played chicken on a precariously bending branch, while another stood on hind legs in the tall grass and stared at me, one hand on his hip. 

tomorrow= off to domwe island for a birthday camping and kayaking trip with my malawi family. frank the cook is baking my chocolate butter cream sponge cake right now.... 

want a parasite? i've got some spares

violently ill. and since here, every mild cough or upset stomache is malaria, and every crawling thing with 6+ legs is cokorochi, i will take the liberty of self-diagnosis....


 i have malaria, and am in so much pain it feels like a family of cokorochi is eating its way out of my small intestine. 

Chimwala Primary School

 marshie and stewie gave me the most incredible christmas present this year. it was even better than the purple pterodactyl i asked for. in my name, via UNICEF, the two lovebirds donated a classroom of desks at the Chimwala primary school in Lilongwe. since i happened to be up in the capital for the past few days, last night on the way back from the field, we decided to swing by and take a look. it was nearly completely dark by the time we reached it, and were merely hoping to get a photo of the sign out front, but this is what we found...

drove in the gate of the Chimwala CCAP Parish. the primary school is actually run by CCAP (pronounced sisepi, dont ask me why) which stands for the Church of Central Africa-Pentecostal. next to the church were 4 brick buildings and a massive dirt football pitch. there was a small assortment of school age children playing in some puddles. the headlights of our truck attracted even more kids until they formed quite a large collection, as well as one of the Chimwala teachers (mphunzitisi= teacher). we explained ourselves to him, and he graciously opened up one of the classrooms to show me my desks. 

Chimwala primary school, he said, has 4000 students. mostly they live in the surrounding villages, but some of the kids are orphans who are cared for at the parish; which explains the flock of children playing in the mud after dark. 

the 4000 students are divided into 47 "classrooms", of about 100 students each, but there are only 7 actually class rooms, the remaining 40 "classrooms" are clusters of kids scattered around the football pitch. "this problem of school buildings makes the teaching very challenging during the wet season", mphunzitsi explained. he said the children were very grateful for the desks they received in december and he said the chruch is hoping to raise enough money to pay for the aluminum sheets to roof the fourth building. 

thanks mom and stu.

(mini-busing)

And now a brief note to my readers…

The point of this blog was to keep my loved ones in the loop, in case I fail to stay in contact with everyone individually, which I generally do.  And also to share the stories and interesting experiences in such a way that I don’t end up repeating myself during every single phone call, and feeling exhaustingly repetitive, like a broken record, or Mariah Carey in Christmas-time shopping centers. The problem is, however, that all of the thing worth reporting are thing that are different here than at home, many of which come off as negative, or make it seem as though I am complaining in some way or another. The truth is, though, that despite the heat, the bugs, the inconveniences and the olfactory over-drive, Malawi is one hell of an amazing place, and every single second spent here is one hell of an adventure.   

the things we do

The process of adjusting to new lifestyles a pis more or less a process of adopting behaviors that over time become customary. Last night I was brushing my teeth and outlining in my head all of the things I needed to do and pack before my 7am bus to Lilongwe this morning, and it occurred to me that i have a new set of habits..

For one, I don’t leave the house without first stuffing a wad of toilet paper in my pocket. Most restrooms (public, private, pit-latrine) don’t provide toilet paper. Or toilet seats for that matter.

Before bed, one must always pull down the sheets and check under the pillows for scorpions, before climbing in and securing the mosquito net. I’ve never actually found any, but I have found cockroaches, spiders and maggots.

When travelling, one should carry their own sheets, to provide a buffer from the bedbugs potentially lurking under the mattress. Towels and soap are also a good idea since both are likely to be vintage editions from previous years’ guests.

Just a taste of some things that you’ve probably never thought about doing and that somehow, I’ve stopped thinking about doing, yet still get done. 

SPECIAL SUPPLEMENT, THE NATION, 14 FEBRUARY 2012

 This was just too good to be true... 

The following are direct quotes from The Nation's  "Valentines Day Action Ads": 

"Darling, you are my air conditioner when am hot, you are my heater when its cold, chop ma money bebie! Aiyah! Aiyah!" - Mwai 'Cool Gal' Phiri 

 "Honey, you are my energy in this romantic vitality in the environment of love. Wow! Let the world know that you are Happy! Happy Valentine!" - Timothy

"swit u min the whole earth to m, and I  luv u 2de,2morrow and 4eva. Be my valentine." - BM 

Also featured on the Valentines Day Pullout...

the poet laureate of the University of Malawi write to his beloved..

        "Remember dear one that we patiently waited for this moment as we wondered about the unique joys it would bring us this time around to feed our liberal imagination ready to grow robust wings and to satisfy our carefully defined wishes turned horses in full flight" 

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE! 

brief update

 dance class is a great success. the african-ass-shake is coming along quite nicely. hopefully next week i wont be openly laughed at in the middle of class

one of our non-paying clients, a Mr. Captain Zumazuma ( for serious)  fled to Zambia to escape his debt and hasnt been heard from since.

Zambia won the African Cup of Nations Football (soccer) tournament last night in a resounding victory against the Ivory Coast last night. All of southern Africa is still hammered

...more interesting tidbits to follow next time my boss isnt looking..

mabvuto= problems (and an amazingly popular name for boys)

at the office. its raining sheets outside- hard enough that the internet networks are out..not that they're 100% functional on the sunniest of days, but the rain is a sure-fire network killer. so, since i can't do my work, its prime time for post-writing. 


so theres good news and bad news..


the good: this afternoon i am going to attend an African dance class. as it is commonly known, i desperately need to improve my dancing skills. hopefully, today will be the first day of the rest of my life as a not-quite-so-horrific dancer. also seriously hoping that i will finally learn how to do the highly coveted African ass shake... African women somehow evolved to possess the most bodacious behinds on the planet. and even more incredibly, when they dance these delectable derrieres take on lives of their own. actually. they can make their butts bounce around without moving a single other muscle. its completely baffling. ive spent ages in front of the mirror and cant even get close. seriously hoping this dance class will shed some light on the situation


the bad: backyard mango season is over. the trees are bare. i can still buy them in blantyre market for something between 10 and 25 kwacha. 


other bad: the kwacha is still officially pegged at 165MK/$. its so ludicrously overvalued, and forex is so scarce that banks are trading dollars with each other at the black market rate of 300MK/$. meanwhile, i dont have a local bank account, so i'm still helplessly debiting dollars from my US account at the official rate. stupid bingu 

on litter

the developing world lacks the luxury of caring about the environment. slums across the world are filled with trash heaps and people dump waste of all sorts directly into the streams where women wash their clothes. appalling? yes. and water sanitation in a major health concern in much of sub-saharan africa. but in terms of the environmental impact of development, with all due respect, its difficult to preach a tree-hugger's mantra to people who feed their entire family on hand-tilled soil and view a tree as a disposable nuisance.

so, upon arriving in blantyre i was instantly infuriated by the amount of garbage that is tossed carelessly into the streets. i pounced on an unsuspecting colleague for letting a gum wrapper slip through her fingers and out the minibus window. my agruments were something along the lines of , 'how will any international firms come here and be inspired enough to invest their millions in your desperate economy if you don't care enough to walk over to a trash can?'

but then i started seeing the other side of the story....

children rummage around in the trenches along the roadsides picking out such jetsom as empty biscuit packets, plastic bags (majumbo), scrap metal, bits of wire, literally anything non-compostable. everyday when i walk to work i hold my breath while i pass the same smelly men riffling through our neighborhood trash bags before collection, searching for uneaten morsels and valuable discard.

and what, pray is the purpose? well, old women make a local brew (tobwa) out of sugar, cassava flour, water  and sell it from old water bottles. once a hunchbacked lady followed me three blocks before i figured out that she was waiting for me to finish the last sip of my water and toss the bottle in the street. she thanked me profusely when i turned around and handed it to her. kids carry their school paper to class in empty kilo bags of sugar, and they make the most incredible push trucks out of metal wire bits with bottle-cap wheels. in the scheme of things, people are unbelievably resourceful here; old tires are shredded into rubber strips for make shift bungy-cords and plastic packets are re-used as containers or shredded and braided into twine.

surely, there is trash everywhere, but its refuse that's merely waiting for resurrection to some new higher purpose. meanwhile, we cart away our junk to landfills, (out of sight, out of mind right?) where it sits. forever.

-just some food for thought

the namegame

i got several comments on a previous post where i mentioned that my gardener's name is Rolex. not really sure why someone would name their kid Rolex, but then again Georgia is a pretty strange name too. The thing is, in Africa, all names should have meanings. When i meet people for the first time they usually ask what my name means, and when i tell them its 'just a name' they seem slightly disappointed.

Some Malawian names are English: we have 3 loan officers named Gift, several Blessings', and a Happy. I know a minibus driver called Wonderful who goes by Marvellous. Others are Chichewa words: Tiyamike means 'grateful', Chimwemwe is the ultra-popular unisex name meaning 'happiness', Chisomo is 'grace' and Kondwani is another version of 'happiness'.

But the best are the classic misspellings and misunderstandings. Fyness (supposed to be "Finest') is actually the nicest person I've ever met. We have a client named Goodboy, whose loan officer is Lucky Banda. I also know a Casnover ( ie. Cassanova) and the other day a waiter named Hardon served me lunch.

and i thought Frank Zappa was strange for naming his daughter Dweezil.