Well I can tell by all of your comments that part 1 of the saga was so riveting that you just couldn't WAIT to find out more?! That was sarcastic. Nobody has commented on my blog in quite a while now and I have to admit, it makes me a little bit sad. For what its worth, it totally makes my day when people comment - otherwise I have no way to know who (if anyone?!) is reading. Well screw you all anyways, everyone knows its the writing itself that's the cathartic part.
But back to the saga:
So how did I survive this crazy situation? Well, it was definitely not without a large dose of luck. Minutes after I finished writing in my journal, a local woman tells me that she, too, is headed for Lilongwe and that I can tag along with her. Still over my head about the money (or lack thereof) situation, I get into the first border-bound 'taxi' - in reality more like a 20-year old Toyota Corolla stuffed with 8 passengers - without much of a plan. When we get to the border, my new friend/guardian angel agrees to front me the money and take me to an ATM in Lilongwe where I can pay her back. Thank god! This woman's generosity completely saved my ass.
We proceed to bounce from taxi to taxi, corolla to corolla, finally arriving into Lilongwe 4 taxis and 4 hours later. Kindly, this woman helps me call David, the contact person at H.E.L.P. Malawi, finds me a Malawian simcard for my phone, some breakfast, and puts me on the right bus for Liwonde. Another jam-packed 4 hour bus ride later, I disembark groggily in Lowinde - a town that looks like the identical twin of about every other roadside town we have passed so far: dusty dirt roads, devolving cement and mud-brick edifices, women and children peddling everything from bananas to peanuts to fried bread and potatoes on the side of the road.
I had told David to expect me, and was hoping that we would find eachother on the sheer fact that we are likely to be the only two white people within a 10km radius of the town. I get out, wander a few steps, and sure enough, find David. He guides me toward another mazungo (white person), who turns out to be Jillian Wolstein, the founder and executive director of the organization. I join them for a cold coke and a plate of chips (fries) at one of the town's few restaurants, and tell them about my long and crazy journey. Long story abbreviated, I come to find out that I am sitting in this restaurant in the middle of nowhere in Malawi with two Jews from Cleveland. Ha! What are the odds. It is a seriously small world, I'm telling you.
So we take their safari-esque old school Landrover down the dirt road to Mvuu camp, where the operation is headquartered. It is pristine and incredibly remote. To get to the lodge itself requires a boat across a sparkling river, full of grumbling hippos and stealthy crocodiles. Baboons, elephants, and water buck traipse along the river banks. It is clear that we are in a national park.
Upon reaching the lodge, my fate changes for the better, and in a matter of a few hours, I have gone from rags to riches. The beautiful 4 star safari lodge sits overlooking the river, with dark wood and thatched roofs, canvas-cushioned chairs woven from wood and wicker. As a volunteer, I get to stay here for free - and due to the current overflow of people (Jillian has brought with her an entourage of 5 people), I get to stay my first few nights in a luxury chalet by the river. There is a family of warthogs that munches grass outside my door. They look like Pumba from the Lion King. The beds are soft, the water is hot, and the view of the sun setting over the river is absolutely spectacular.
But things get better when I emerge for dinner to find white linen tablecloths and a three-course menu. The only thing that could and did make me happier was when I discovered that breakfast include da build-your-own omelette bar. Build your own omelette bar?! Where am I?
The following afternoon, I get my first taste of Nanthomba school, the primary school where I will be working. I sit in on a Standard 7 (7th grade class), and help teach an English lesson. The class ended in a full-on Malawian dance party, which, in my opinion, is when these kids' personalities shine the most. The sense of rhythm here is unbelievable, and it is such a freeing and expressive part of their culture.
Last night was David's 25th birthday, and we spent it drinking and dancing around the fire at a cultural village, as a local Malawian band played and the entire village danced alongside us late into the night. I am getting some serious practice in African dance!
That is all for now. Life is good. More soon.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
The Saga: Part 1
May 18, 2008
5:00 am
Chipata (?), Zambia
After a period of smooth sailing, I am experiencing the toughest and most challenging day of travel since my stint from Maseru to Coffee Bay, and even that pales in comparison. I woke up at 5:30 am yesterday morning after parting ways sadly and indefinitely with my new friends from my overland trip.
I showed up at the bus station in Livingstone, Zambia about 15 minutes before the bus departed for Lusaka, which I (mistakenly?) took to be a good omen for my travels. 7 hours later, the bus arrived in the Lusaka bus station and I find out that there are no busses running directly to Malawi, as I was previously told, but instead I have to go another 9 hours to Chipata, where I can THEN catch my 1.5 hour bus to Lilongwe, Malawi's capital. With only American dollars and a mild sense of panic on me, I hastily exchanged money with some dodgy black market dealer and later realized that I had been scammed out of at least 10 dollars. Damn it!
The bus, mildly put, is a "locals bus," and I am the only white face among its passengers, loaded at least 15-20 people over capacity. I proceed to sit on the bus for 3 hours as it idles in the Lusaka station watching locals bring aboard everything from sacks of grain, to babies swathed in cloth around their backs, to solar-powered battery chargers. By the time the bus grumbles out of the station, the aisles are full with suitcases, boxes, and bags of grain - on top of which an additional row of people is seated.
Perhaps the highlight of the drive was a pit stop at Zambia's Luangwa bridge at about 9:30pm, where I disembarked to a cacophony of rhythmic Zambian reggae music and the soft glow of candles, illuminating a nighttime market where women peddled fruits, vegetables, and dry salted fish. It was one of those rare, complately authentic travel moments. The only foreigner among the crowd, I felt I was witnessing one of Zambia's hidden secrets. Of course, my camera failed to deliver in that moment, but I will always remember this memory.
Finally, 9 hours after leaving Lusaka, I awake groggily at 2am to find that the bus has arrived at the Chipata station (read: barren lot). Asking one of the attendants about the morning bus to Lilongwe, I find out that the bus only runs certain days of the week and - surprise! - tomorrow is not one of them. Instead, I have to take a combination of three more local "taxis" (read: 8 people packed into a 1980 Toyota Corolla) to reach Lilongwe.
The attendant tells me the price and I return to the bus to check my money situation, only to find that the failsafe Bank of Brazier has, indeed, failed me. I am left groping myself in public in an attempt to recover the lost bills, but to no avail. I am missing $70,000 Zambian Kwatre, or approximately $25 US Dollars. This is the last of my money and there is no ATM in an 100 mile radius. I am starting to panic at this moment, finally uncovering $11 USD in cash among all of my possessions. Value-wise, this should be enough to get me across the border, where there is rumored to be an ATM. However, none of the taxis accept US currency and the black market traders, uninterested in small bills, will take a cut so large that I will again not have enough to make it as far as the ATM.
I fall into a fitful sleep on the parked bus for two hours before I am awoken at 4:30am with a CRASH! as the bus driver, attempting to move the bus, has instead rear-ended another. I reach to gather my possessions and realize that, somehow, in the middle of the night, the bus cleaner has thrown out my entire bag full of food as well as my two bottlees of water.
So here I am, in Chipata at 5:00 am, writing this in attempt to fend off the impending panic. I have officially broken nearly every one of my self-set travel rules, which is to always have in my possession food, water, suncreen, bugspray, my passport, and enough money to buy a bus ticket and a bottle of rum. At the time being, I find myself at a loss for arguably the three most important of these things.
How am I going to find a way out of this mess?
To be continued...
5:00 am
Chipata (?), Zambia
After a period of smooth sailing, I am experiencing the toughest and most challenging day of travel since my stint from Maseru to Coffee Bay, and even that pales in comparison. I woke up at 5:30 am yesterday morning after parting ways sadly and indefinitely with my new friends from my overland trip.
I showed up at the bus station in Livingstone, Zambia about 15 minutes before the bus departed for Lusaka, which I (mistakenly?) took to be a good omen for my travels. 7 hours later, the bus arrived in the Lusaka bus station and I find out that there are no busses running directly to Malawi, as I was previously told, but instead I have to go another 9 hours to Chipata, where I can THEN catch my 1.5 hour bus to Lilongwe, Malawi's capital. With only American dollars and a mild sense of panic on me, I hastily exchanged money with some dodgy black market dealer and later realized that I had been scammed out of at least 10 dollars. Damn it!
The bus, mildly put, is a "locals bus," and I am the only white face among its passengers, loaded at least 15-20 people over capacity. I proceed to sit on the bus for 3 hours as it idles in the Lusaka station watching locals bring aboard everything from sacks of grain, to babies swathed in cloth around their backs, to solar-powered battery chargers. By the time the bus grumbles out of the station, the aisles are full with suitcases, boxes, and bags of grain - on top of which an additional row of people is seated.
Perhaps the highlight of the drive was a pit stop at Zambia's Luangwa bridge at about 9:30pm, where I disembarked to a cacophony of rhythmic Zambian reggae music and the soft glow of candles, illuminating a nighttime market where women peddled fruits, vegetables, and dry salted fish. It was one of those rare, complately authentic travel moments. The only foreigner among the crowd, I felt I was witnessing one of Zambia's hidden secrets. Of course, my camera failed to deliver in that moment, but I will always remember this memory.
Finally, 9 hours after leaving Lusaka, I awake groggily at 2am to find that the bus has arrived at the Chipata station (read: barren lot). Asking one of the attendants about the morning bus to Lilongwe, I find out that the bus only runs certain days of the week and - surprise! - tomorrow is not one of them. Instead, I have to take a combination of three more local "taxis" (read: 8 people packed into a 1980 Toyota Corolla) to reach Lilongwe.
The attendant tells me the price and I return to the bus to check my money situation, only to find that the failsafe Bank of Brazier has, indeed, failed me. I am left groping myself in public in an attempt to recover the lost bills, but to no avail. I am missing $70,000 Zambian Kwatre, or approximately $25 US Dollars. This is the last of my money and there is no ATM in an 100 mile radius. I am starting to panic at this moment, finally uncovering $11 USD in cash among all of my possessions. Value-wise, this should be enough to get me across the border, where there is rumored to be an ATM. However, none of the taxis accept US currency and the black market traders, uninterested in small bills, will take a cut so large that I will again not have enough to make it as far as the ATM.
I fall into a fitful sleep on the parked bus for two hours before I am awoken at 4:30am with a CRASH! as the bus driver, attempting to move the bus, has instead rear-ended another. I reach to gather my possessions and realize that, somehow, in the middle of the night, the bus cleaner has thrown out my entire bag full of food as well as my two bottlees of water.
So here I am, in Chipata at 5:00 am, writing this in attempt to fend off the impending panic. I have officially broken nearly every one of my self-set travel rules, which is to always have in my possession food, water, suncreen, bugspray, my passport, and enough money to buy a bus ticket and a bottle of rum. At the time being, I find myself at a loss for arguably the three most important of these things.
How am I going to find a way out of this mess?
To be continued...
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Endings and new beginnings
Hello hello!
It's been a while since my last post, so thanks for bearing with me. Somehow I find that the less I write, the less I am inclined to write. But I will try to break that pattern.
I arrived at Victoria Falls with my overland group at about noon today. We spent the afternoon galavating along the incredible vistas, getting soaked by the spray, and listening to Vic Falls' notorious "thunder." Talk about an unbelievable place. The magnitude and breadth of water rushing over the falls is so awe-inspiring that it could make even the staunchest atheist believe in a higher power. It was definitely one of the highlights of my trip thus far, and, timely enough, its conclusion. The day after tomorrow I am hopping a bus from Livingstone, Zambia to Lilongwe, Malawi to begin my brief period of volunteer work at a Malawian school. The school is located inside Liwonde National Park, meaning its definitely going to be rural in the wildest sense of the word - Liwonde is known for is abundant hippo and elephant populations.
The organization is called H.E.L.P. Malawi - you can visit their website at www.helpmalawichildren.org.
I first heard about the organization from an Israeli guy named Yiftach who I met in Vilanculos, Mozambique. I mentioned that I have really been wanting to do some volunteer work while I am here in Africa, but most of the programs charge you as much as $2500 for two weeks, which is absurd. I have a moral issue with my having to pay to volunteer my time... it just doesn't sit right with me. Yiftach mentioned that he had met the founder of this organization and that she was looking to find teachers for the organizations fledgling school. Ironically, she happens to be an American housewife from Ohio who has dedicated her entire life savings to start this organization, and she travels back and forth between Malawi and Ohio, where she has three kids. I am very excited to get involved, and it sounds like the volunteers there are very excited to have me.
I am sad that this tour is ending, as I have made a lot of friends and enjoyed the laid back, hands-off traveling. But my anticipation for the next three weeks far outweighs my sadness, and I am ready to be off on my own once again. Each chapter of this "Africa-quest" has been entirely unique and complementary to the next, so I know that what comes will be full of excitement and adventures.
It is crazy to think that, exactly one year ago yesterday, I graduated from college. I can't believe its already been an entire year?! I have a journal entry that I will excerpt here eventually to explain my thoughts on it in more detail, but the long and short of it is... if one year ago I had been able to see myself now, I would have been overwhelmed with excitement and pride. I am really here, I am doing this, I am living and loving every moment to the fullest. It dawned on me a few days ago when I was riding in a mokoro - a traditional Botswanan dugout wood canoe - through the Okavango Delta. It was one of the paramount reasons I wanted to come on this trip. I remember sitting on my bed late at night with the heat of my laptop burning the top of my covers, looking up pictures and maps of the Delta. At that point, making it as far as the Okavango Delta in Botswana seemed almost like a complete and utter pipe dream. I had no idea if I would be able to make it in Africa for that long, let alone to make it that far. It was an amazing moment to realize that I am really living my dreams.
Indeed, a cheesy success story if there ever was one....
It's been a while since my last post, so thanks for bearing with me. Somehow I find that the less I write, the less I am inclined to write. But I will try to break that pattern.
I arrived at Victoria Falls with my overland group at about noon today. We spent the afternoon galavating along the incredible vistas, getting soaked by the spray, and listening to Vic Falls' notorious "thunder." Talk about an unbelievable place. The magnitude and breadth of water rushing over the falls is so awe-inspiring that it could make even the staunchest atheist believe in a higher power. It was definitely one of the highlights of my trip thus far, and, timely enough, its conclusion. The day after tomorrow I am hopping a bus from Livingstone, Zambia to Lilongwe, Malawi to begin my brief period of volunteer work at a Malawian school. The school is located inside Liwonde National Park, meaning its definitely going to be rural in the wildest sense of the word - Liwonde is known for is abundant hippo and elephant populations.
The organization is called H.E.L.P. Malawi - you can visit their website at www.helpmalawichildren.org.
I first heard about the organization from an Israeli guy named Yiftach who I met in Vilanculos, Mozambique. I mentioned that I have really been wanting to do some volunteer work while I am here in Africa, but most of the programs charge you as much as $2500 for two weeks, which is absurd. I have a moral issue with my having to pay to volunteer my time... it just doesn't sit right with me. Yiftach mentioned that he had met the founder of this organization and that she was looking to find teachers for the organizations fledgling school. Ironically, she happens to be an American housewife from Ohio who has dedicated her entire life savings to start this organization, and she travels back and forth between Malawi and Ohio, where she has three kids. I am very excited to get involved, and it sounds like the volunteers there are very excited to have me.
I am sad that this tour is ending, as I have made a lot of friends and enjoyed the laid back, hands-off traveling. But my anticipation for the next three weeks far outweighs my sadness, and I am ready to be off on my own once again. Each chapter of this "Africa-quest" has been entirely unique and complementary to the next, so I know that what comes will be full of excitement and adventures.
It is crazy to think that, exactly one year ago yesterday, I graduated from college. I can't believe its already been an entire year?! I have a journal entry that I will excerpt here eventually to explain my thoughts on it in more detail, but the long and short of it is... if one year ago I had been able to see myself now, I would have been overwhelmed with excitement and pride. I am really here, I am doing this, I am living and loving every moment to the fullest. It dawned on me a few days ago when I was riding in a mokoro - a traditional Botswanan dugout wood canoe - through the Okavango Delta. It was one of the paramount reasons I wanted to come on this trip. I remember sitting on my bed late at night with the heat of my laptop burning the top of my covers, looking up pictures and maps of the Delta. At that point, making it as far as the Okavango Delta in Botswana seemed almost like a complete and utter pipe dream. I had no idea if I would be able to make it in Africa for that long, let alone to make it that far. It was an amazing moment to realize that I am really living my dreams.
Indeed, a cheesy success story if there ever was one....
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Another hello
Hey all,
A quick hello from Windhoek, the capital of Namibia. My internet access has been rare and limited, and it appears only to be getting more so. I have been really enjoying my overland trip, despite the fact that it seems like easier and more "touristy" traveling than I have been used to. Nevertheless, sometimes it is nice to sit back and relax with a beer and/or and good book and let someone else do the driving. Tomorrow we are venturing into Botswana and into the famed Okavango Delta, which I would encourage you all to google image search, because it is supposed to be absolutely unreal. My trip ends in just over a week in Victoria Falls, and from there, the real adventure begins as I venture out into Malawi and Zanzibar for my final three weeks in Africa. All is well here and I miss and love you guys, I am starting to get excited about coming home and seeing all my friends and family again....
... but not too excited ;)
A quick hello from Windhoek, the capital of Namibia. My internet access has been rare and limited, and it appears only to be getting more so. I have been really enjoying my overland trip, despite the fact that it seems like easier and more "touristy" traveling than I have been used to. Nevertheless, sometimes it is nice to sit back and relax with a beer and/or and good book and let someone else do the driving. Tomorrow we are venturing into Botswana and into the famed Okavango Delta, which I would encourage you all to google image search, because it is supposed to be absolutely unreal. My trip ends in just over a week in Victoria Falls, and from there, the real adventure begins as I venture out into Malawi and Zanzibar for my final three weeks in Africa. All is well here and I miss and love you guys, I am starting to get excited about coming home and seeing all my friends and family again....
... but not too excited ;)
Friday, May 2, 2008
hi from namibia
i am in namibia, pretty delirious from lots of early mornings and full-day drives. lets just say that there is a lot of sand here and tomorrow i am going to ride on it with a board.
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