pandastan

It's been a while since I've updated this thing. I guess the longer I'm here, the harder it is for me to focus in on things that someone reading this blog might be interested or surprised to learn about life in Malawi. I've also been having internet troubles the last two months. I guess if there's still anything specific people are curious about they can ask me personally and that will probably lead to me remembering a lot of pertinent things. But as far as me making these updates, life in Malawi seems mostly regular and expected to me now, so most of my blog updates are bound to be about basic news and anything out of the ordinary I've done.



One thing I've done recently was take a trip to Ruarwe. This is a village on a stretch of Lake Malawi without roads. For about 100 km or so, the mountains are too steep and too close to the lakeshore to build roads there without large expense. There is only one road that reaches this area, a road from Mzuzu to a village called Usisya, but the road does not continue past Usisya. Up and down the lakeshore, there is only a footpath that connects the villages to each other. More on this road later. My village, Chitimba, is about 20 km north of where the roadless stretch begins, in a town called Mlowe. The southern tip of the stretch is at Nkhata Bay, a tourist destination and minor hub on the lake, due east of Mzuzu. Usisya is about 30 km north of that, and Ruarwe is maybe another 15 or 20 km past that.

I rendezvoused with 5 traveling companions in Nkhata Bay to begin the journey. We spent the night there in order to catch the Ilala in the morning. I mentioned the Ilala in an entry a year ago when I was considering taking it out of Nkhata Bay when I spent New Year's Eve there. I ended up not taking it that time, but I did this time. Our plan was to ride the Ilala to Ruarwe, spend a few nights there, then hike to Usisya and take the road back to Mzuzu. The Ilala is the only commercial water transport on Lake Malawi, and it only completes its circuit once a week, so we couldn't wait to take it back unless we wanted to stay in Ruarwe for quite some time.

The ride was enjoyable, especially at first, when we were on the top deck and were able to enjoy the view and fresh air. But it turned out that the top deck was first class, and they kicked us out. Our tickets were for second class on the bottom deck, which is the same as third class, but in second class you get to have access to a room with tables and booths to sit in, rather than just sit on the benches out on the deck. Apparently, you also get first access to lifesaving devices in the case of emergency if you are traveling in a higher class, which of course implies that there aren't enough for all the passengers, and which is not all that encouraging in a lot of different ways. As we left Nkhata Bay, we were approached by a wato, the name Malawians use for the dugout canoes they use to move about on the lake and go fishing. Apparently, someone had missed the Ilala who wanted to take it, so he hired a guy to row him out to it. The wato pulled up to the side of the Ilala and the man tossed his bag to someone while the wato driver furiously rowed to keep up. Then the man jumped onto the side of the Ilala and climbed up, and then crumpled up some cash in a ball and threw it down to the wato driver.

When we reached Usisya, the Ilala stopped to drop off and pick up passengers. Now Nkhata Bay is the only stop we went to that was developed enough to actually have a pier. At Usisya and Ruarwe it just stops and lowers a boat into the water which rows to shore and back. While it was stopped, most of my friends took the opportunity to jump off the roof of the Ilala, which apparently the people who operate it don't mind if you do. Then the rowboat came back with new passengers, one of which was a friend of ours who lives in Usisya, who was going to travel to Ruarwe with us and on whom we were counting on to guide us to the transport we needed when it was time to leave Usisya.

We reached Ruarwe at about 4pm. I had held off jumping at Usisya because I didn't want to be wet for the rest of the ride, but I decided to do a jump at Ruarwe along with our friend who joined us in Usisya. We got our other friends to take our luggage onto the rowboat with them, and we jumped off the roof, which is about 40 feet above the water, and probably the biggest jump I've ever made. Then we swam to shore in time to help people unload the luggage – something you have to do while standing knee-deep in the water. Our destination was a lodge a little bit north of the village. It took about a 20 minute hike on a winding path to reach it and we had finally arrived.

I can't imagine what possessed someone to build a lodge here, let alone to live and work there in such isolation. At this part of the lake, all deliveries of goods and transport have to be either by foot or boat so you have to plan several days in advance for anything you might want. The lodge was beautiful – they had piped water and some garden hoses which they used to keep the vegetation green and lush. There was a waterfall nearby and a little beach next to some rocks you can climb and jump off of. We had a great time and stayed there two nights. Unfortunately, I woke up in the middle of the night that last night with horrible sickness: diarrhea, accompanied by a lot of puking. By the morning I had lost all of the food from yesterday, and hadn't even been able to keep water down, so I was useless and dehydrated. In a few hours we were supposed to start a six hour hike to Usisya.

I made it as far as Ruarwe village and couldn't go on. Luckily, my friends were able to arrange to hire a guy to ferry me to Usisya by wato. It was a four hour canoe ride, my stuff all got soaked, my driver was apparently autistic or just different: he kept babbling and making strange noises throughout the entire journey, and I was very uncomfortable, but grateful nonetheless in light of my alternative. We got to Usisya just as evening was approaching and gathered at our friend's house. She told us there was a matola that left Usisya for Mzuzu every night at 2am. As we waited for it though, we found ourselves in the middle of a torrential rain downpour. The matola would not be running on the poor road that evening. We were stuck.

We spent the entire next day lounging around in Usisya, trying to find someone with a vehicle that was going to Mzuzu and could take us, and hoping that the rain would let up. It rained all day and we couldn't find anyone. Finally we found someone who knew someone in Mzuzu who would come pick us up for about 4 times the regular price. We were expecting him to show up around 5pm, and the rain stopped. As time went by we lost hope though, and started discussing how long we would lay on the stretch of grass we were on before giving up and going to bed. But he finally showed up at about 9pm and we loaded up.

I had heard horror stories about the road between Usisya and Mzuzu before, but I had never actually heard of anyone dying on the road, so I thought I was prepared for it. All I can say is that while it was undoubtedly far more dangerous to travel this road at night, I was thankful that I couldn't see very well. We were in the bed of a truck and started up the dirt road, climbing into the mountains. The nature of this road is that one side is a cliff face and the other side is a sheer drop off. The entire climb up the escarpment is this way and very steep. Since the road was still a little wet, there were many instances where the tires gave out and lurched to the side, threatening to spill us all over the cliff. There were other instances where the truck slowed down to a crawl, trying to make purchase on a particularly steep portion of the road. At these moments the fear was that the truck would give out, stop moving forward and roll backward down the treacherous road and kill us all that way. This constant confrontation with death lasted about two solid hours until we finally conquered the escarpment. I was lucky that my friends had some medicine to help me with my sickness and I was able to handle the ride. But I've never been so concerned that I might die, this experience knocks Mulanje out of the top spot for that honor. I won't be gong back to Ruarwe, as nice as it is there. Another hour of less death-defying driving took us to Mzuzu at about 1230am. We had survived.

In other news, the guardian shelter is finally under way. All the materials have been purchased and the structure's walls are now complete. The roof and ring-beam will be next, then the interiors. But we got the foundation and bricks ready before the rains came, and there doesn't appear to be anything else that can interfere. What I would like to do now is try and put pressure on ESCOM to hook up Thekero Youth Center with the electricity we paid them for last May. I don't know if I'll be successful, maybe I can meet the M.P. For this district and see if he has any influence or wants to use it. I predict that the rest of my service will mainly be concerned with trying to wrap up these two projects and continuing to teach Life Skills. Maybe some other small project will present itself to me, we'll see.

I spent some time visiting a friend in Nkhata Bay district with a group of people for Chirstmas, then we moved to Nkhata Bay boma for the New Year. (In Malawi, each district of the country bears the name of the chief city in the district, which is called the boma. So when I say Nkhata Bay boma, I refer to the town). Then my sitemate and I roped some people into going back up to Chitimba with us to extend the vacation fun several days longer. It was a good break. My last visitor left on Wednesday, and my sitemate is still out of town for her group's mid-service Peace Corps training, so I have Chitimba to myself, a time I'm using to regather myself and prepare for the upcoming year. Last night, I finally finished the revisions on the first half of the book I'm writing, and started on the second half. I need to get into gear on that project, with only six months left in country. My goal is to finish it by the end of that time. Other than that, I'll be spending my energy preparing for the transition back to non-Peace Corps life. It's hard to believe I'm getting close to the end of it. (In my old life, six months away never seemed close, but here, time flies by so much more quickly). So, that's where things stand. Here's to hoping 2011 turns out well!