November 18, 2019 by trs

Road Tripping in Malawi

Road Sign 1 Americans’ love affair with the car is no secret. In reality, Western Europeans have more cars per person than Americans, but Americans drive their cars for just about anything – short trips, long trips, and everything in between. And when Americans go on long trips, they might be just as likely to pack up the car as to get on a plane. Americans (in general) love a good road trip.

Although I have spent a good portion of my adult life (between September 1995 and September 2011) without owning a car, I still very much appreciate a good drive. In my Foreign Service career, I have not done much driving at Post. In Ciudad Juarez, we could only drive in a limited area around the city and into the United States, and I did not own a vehicle in Shanghai. Malawi has been an “interesting” opportunity to get back on the road.

Most of my driving life in Malawi is within a small area, maybe five square miles, if that. It’s a seven-minute drive from my home to the Embassy and most other trips are to and from friends’ homes and a few supermarkets and restaurants. But every so often we get out of town, and with nearly two years under my belt in Malawi, I have taken a road trip or two or ten. And driving here is unlike any other place I have driven.

Some Malawian roads I have driven

Malawi may be one of the most densely populated countries in Africa, but when on the road between cities and towns, it can feel as if you are in the middle of nowhere. Its not just the lack of population — there can certainly be those times when it seems there is no one else around — but even when there are villages it is just those villages, a cluster of small homes, probably the majority just a single room. They might be mud or brick with thatch or corrugated iron roofs, but except in the larger trading centers, the homes, maybe a school, is it. You will not see road lights or electricity poles. There are few if any road signs. You will only rarely see billboards by the side of the road — only as you might approach a major center. Playing “I spy” is a futile exercise.

There will be no fast-food restaurants if any restaurants at all. Few stores. Even petrol stations are in short supply. On the 4+ hour drive on the M1, the country’s main artery linking the capital Lilongwe with the business capital of Blantyre, there are perhaps only two or three places to stop for gas. You should always fill up when you can, because there may not be another opportunity for some distance. The same goes for restrooms.

Cows The paved roads, even the main ones, are predominantly two lanes, one in each direction. Maybe there will be a painted center line, maybe not. Maybe there will be a shoulder, though usually not. Most often the sides of the road are jagged, as though a large monster that eats asphalt has bitten huge chunks off the edges. There are many potholes. Near villages, there will be cyclists, and it seems almost a given that as your car approaches they will begin to weave haphazardly, adding an extra challenge to an already difficult drive. There are also often goats or cattle alongside the road — the cattle are usually accompanied by children or young men, the goats are often unattended and maybe a wee bit suicidal, or at least not phased by traffic at all. However, if you hit someone’s livestock, be prepared to pay up.

The speed limit is generally 80-90 kph (50-55 mph) on the roads outside urban/market areas and 50 kph (30 mph) within. Yet, in my experience, you either get those who drive a maddening 20 kph below or a scary 20-30 kph above. It’s the excessive speeds which are particularly worrying — according to the World Health Organization, sub-Saharan Africa has some of the highest rates of vehicle accident fatalities per 100,000 people in the world, and Malawi ranks as one of the higher among southern African countries.

License and registration, please

To force people to at least occasionally slow down, the police set up roadblocks. The Malawi police are basically a static force; they are hampered by their shoestring budget and a limited number of vehicles. Thus they are not hiding around bends or behind trees in their police cars or motorcycles ready for the hot pursuit of lawbreakers. Instead, they set up roadblocks, some quite rudimentary, to at least temporarily halt travel and conduct vehicle inspections. My diplomatic-plated car is rarely stopped, and on the very few occasions it’s happened, I have been waved through quickly. Not that I am doing anything wrong mind you. I drive the speed limit, my tires are in good shape, I have a license and insurance, and I carry the required-by-law equipment. I have a feeling I might be in the minority.

Safety First!

On any given day you will likely encounter some creative interpretation of traffic regulations. There are no official taxis and buses are few and far between (largely cross border routes); the primary means of travel for the commuter is on foot, bicycle (including bicycle taxis), or the ubiquitous mini-buses, which can be used for intracity or intercity transportation. These small vans are notorious for being overcrowded with people and packages, in poor condition, often with inadequate tires or brakes, and often driven at excessive speeds. Besides the mini-buses, Malawians come up with some resourceful methods to transport goods and people via the roads. If I weren’t so concerned about how their ingenuity impacts my ability to safely get from Point A to Point B, I would be pretty impressed. But I have also read enough articles about, and even come across, what happens when vehicles drive too fast on Malawian roads.

Uh-oh!

I remember something a friend once said about driving here — how much it takes out of you because you cannot ever really relax. This is not the place where you can put the car on cruise control and zone out. One has to keep on one’s toes, as you never know what will be around the next bend. Maybe there is a disabled vehicle, cordoned off not with the required-by-law warning triangles but leafy branches. Or a police checkpoint. Or perhaps there might be a bunch of uniform-clad school children lollygagging on the road’s edge. Or a bunch of goats. You might come across someone selling dried fish or gunny sacks of illegal charcoal. Or perhaps someone selling roasted field mice on a stick — a popular delicacy during the dry cool season. Or you might run across masked young men or boys dressed in makeshift costumes of torn clothes, strips of fabric, burlap sacks, and straw, heading to a performance. These are the Gule Wamkulu, or ritual spiritual dancers of the Chewa tribe, the dance inscribed as a UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage. Or maybe you come around a curve to face a stunning vista. Driving in Malawi is not for the faint-hearted, but it sure does keep things interesting.

Furry fried field mice anyone? Or maybe hang with Gule Wamkulu spirits?

November 11, 2019 by trs

Zim & the Lake Part Two

The second half of our Fall Break trip which began in Zimbabwe and ended at Lake Malawi.

This part did not begin as expected. I debated how to write about it or whether to write about it at all. But I did not see how I could omit what occurred and still accurately portray our lives here and our, or at least my, state of mind as we headed out from Lilongwe to the upper-central area of Lake Malawi. As much as we enjoy Malawi, there are, of course, times when life here is not easy; when cultural differences lead to misunderstandings and/or confusing circumstances. To pretend otherwise gives false impressions.

Kachere Kastle

The summer before I arrived in Malawi I spent approximately three months in Washington, D.C. in training to prepare for my position. During one of the course sessions, the presenter turned out to have once served in the same job, sort of like my great-great-great-great-great incumbent. I caught him after his presentation and we had a few minutes to talk. Like me, he and his family had moved to Malawi from China and appreciated the cleaner air, the large yard, and the smaller population. But, he warned me, the only part they disliked was dealing with the household staff. It was not the work ethic, but the potential for bickering and competition between staff members.

Fast forward and C and I are arriving back from Zimbabwe. Before leaving Malawi, I had arranged with our nanny to pick us up at the airport. But when we walked out of arrivals there was no one there for us. And 30 minutes later there was still no one.

I do not completely understand what happened but basically, my nanny attempted to leave the compound to pick us up, but one of the residential guards refused to let her leave. There may have been threats, yelling, stones thrown, and others called in to resolve their spat. It turned into a “he said, she said,” explanation, with lots of finger-pointing and claims that God as their witness knew he/she was the one telling the truth. But the end result for C and I is we were left at the airport for 2 1/2 hours later than expected and a good bit of my positive vacation feels from Zimbabwe had dissipated.

I wish I could say I got over it quickly, but that would not be true. I debated about canceling the rest of our trip, but I knew that would not improve my mood. We had reservations on the lake and I hoped a good long drive might do me good.

We woke up early-ish and I finished packing up the car so we could get on the road by 8:30 AM. The unexpected situation of the day before was still very much on my mind, yet it helped the first, familiar 90-minute drive east on the M14 from Lilongwe to Salima town fly by. There we took our usual Salima break at the nice gas station, loaded up on snacks, and then cranked up the CD player in the car (yes, the CD player — this is what you are forced to do when you drive a 2006 vehicle with a broken radio).

A room with a view – Malawi, yet it does not look like Malawi

All in all, it took five hours to arrive at our destination, Kachere Kastle, the unexpected hotel built in the style of a Moorish castle sitting on an expansive flat sandy beach in a quiet cove on the upper third of the incredible Lake Malawi. I recall reading it took the owners about eight years to bring their dream to reality.

I had booked the upper tower room for C and I – a top floor room in the front turret. I wanted the best room — a view toward the beach. But the room also included a sitting room, a balcony, and a staircase to the roof, where we could have slept out under the stars had we so desired (it was quite windy and unexpectedly chilly, so we did not). I made sure to book this special room some months in advance and thus was surprised to learn C and I would be the only guests for the night.

Scenes from a beach walk

Almost immediately we changed and parked ourselves by the pool. I blew up our giant pool tortoise for C, ordered lunch, then relaxed into a reclining chair poolside and took out a book. I could feel some of the tension of the previous 24 hours sliding away. And then our lunch arrived — and it was some of the best food I have had in Malawi.

Like Zimbabwe, northern Malawi appeared to be on a limited electricity shared plan. We were told that the electricity would be off for about eight hours in the morning. Good thing we had just come from Zim; we took it in stride. The hours passed. We ate. We played in the pool. I am not particularly good at relaxing. I generally feel a strong pull to be doing something, anything. Reading, writing, planning, walking, something. I find it very hard to slow down, but I needed to. Therefore a long, slow stroll at sunset was in order. There were a few boats on the beach; I am not sure if they were there for purposes of actual use or placed there for atmospheric reasons, but we stopped at each one for some photos.

The beach was largely deserted — again, just for us. We could see a few locals in the distance, and a few children approached us, some giggling, others quiet and curious, but for the most part we were left alone, and I was grateful. C collected smooth stones she found on the beach, first in her hands, and then when they became too numerous, into the gathered folds of her skirt. She drew pictures in the sand for me to guess what they were. I snapped her photo atop a large boulder on the beach; rather similar to the boulders we found strewn across the Zim countryside, but in Malawi are often found along the lake. A few small, naked children, appeared near the rock. They yelled at us–I think it was meant to be friendly, but came across as taunting, amusement at our expense–so we turned back. A dugout canoe silently glided through the reeds on an inlet cut off from the Lake by only 25 meters or so.

Back at the hotel we ordered our dinner for room service. Once again the kitchen surpassed my expectations. I wished Kachere were closer to Lilongwe.

Sunrise

The next morning I woke early to my alarm; I wanted to watch the sun rise over the Lake. I went up to our private rooftop to watch the sky lighten on the water’s horizon. The only sounds were the lapping of the waves, birdsong, and a breeze lightly caressing the leaves of a nearby large mango tree. To my left, just past the hotel property, I could make out small fires on the beach and the stirrings of the village. Fishermen were already out on the water. After the sun had poked through the clouds on the water’s far edge, I went down to our balcony to close my eyes and meditate. Then I crawled back into bed for another hour.

As our next destination was only 10 minutes down the road, we stayed at Kachere as long as we could, enjoying the novelty of a pool to ourselves. We then packed up the car and head to Kande Horse, another property that had long been on my Malawi bucket list. C loves horses but there are few stables where the casual guest can ride. One is on the Zomba plateau and the other at Kande Horse.

We were quickly settled into our room, had some lunch, and then prepared for our included one hour afternoon ride to the lake shore. I appreciated the incredible welcome afforded us by the Kande Horse management and staff, and the care taken in selecting our horses. C and I are casual riders, who though we try to get a horse ride in on about every other holiday, still have little real horse experience. C was pleased to have her own good sized pony, and no one to lead her. As luck would have it, it turned out to be more than an hour’s ride. Let’s not kid ourselves here, we sit on horseback and they walk, we are not trotting or cantering, but I guess its still riding, right? Our route, through villages, forest and brush to the beach was both pleasant and calming, with just enough cheeky misbehaving by the horses, to make us laugh.

C riding along the lake shore

However, once at the beach we had to wait for the other riders, who had taken a longer ride, to arrive and frolic in the waves. The beach was crowded, mostly with children. A community project was underway. If I understood correctly, a donor had provided money for bricks to build a classroom at the school; the community needed only to provide the cement and the labor, and thus they were collecting sand from the beach. However, they were nearly done for the day when two mzungu rode up on horses, dismounted, then sat waiting. A perfect time to surround them and pepper them with questions.

After a rather uncomfortable 20 minutes, the other riders showed up and we headed back to Kande Horse. Again, there was little to do but relax around the room, our balcony, or the grounds until it was time for dinner at 7 PM. Again, no Wi-Fi, no electricity until evening, so we kept things low key. I was a little worried about dinner as I had learned on arrival that all of the meals are solely vegetarian. But honestly, it turned out to one of the best dinners I have had in Malawi. The veggie burger and fries were really delicious (I wish I had the recipe), and the camaraderie around the table warm and easy.

Initially we had planned for a second night at Kande; however, C was ready to go home. To be honest, I was too, but I would have stayed if C wanted to. But after dinner she asked if we might go home early. I was incredibly grateful for the management at Kande for their understanding. Therefore after breakfast on Saturday we packed up the car and made the five hour drive back to Lilongwe. It was a long drive, but somewhat comforting just being behind the wheel. The days at the Lake had restored at least some of my equilibrium.

November 3, 2019 by trs

Zim & the Lake Part One

Following our glorious four week Home Leave full of fun, American comfort food, and functioning traffic patterns, coming back to Malawi was a bit of a shock. On top of missing our friends and family, lamenting the loss of string cheese purchases at the Super Target, and just an overall in-our-faces realization of the drastic differences between life in the U.S. versus that in Malawi, the summer transfer season was upon us. Its always an “interesting” time at Embassies across the world as seasoned officers transfer out, new ones transfer in, gaps form and those left cover two or more other positions, and Washington realizes that it is getting close to the end of the fiscal year (ends Sept 30) and thus decide they want to use the money to travel to you — just when staffing is at its most precarious. In Malawi, the political situation too had been less than stable since the election, and an umbrella group for governance civil society organizations and activists had been holding demonstrations on average once a week. Some were canceled by the group itself, other times they were forced to postpone due to government court action, but every time we had to prepare nonetheless. And even when not transferring, others are on vacation, and C missed her Malawi friends and struggled in the weeks leading up to school. At last C started upper primary school and there was the usual flurry of preparations for a new school year. Whew. Within a week or two of our return, I already found myself fantasizing about the next vacation.

About a year ago my good friend JK1 had moved to Zimbabwe to take up a position at the U.S. Embassy. C and I had previously visited her and her family in Chiang Mai, and we were excited to have them relatively close to us again. Soon after they arrived in southern Africa, I began to plot our visit. I also wanted another chance to see Harare given my only other trip unexpectedly coincided with the overthrow of the long-time president Robert Mugabe, and thus I had been largely confined to the hotel. Given our different work schedules, JBK and her husband JK2 were unable to take any days off, so we would have to make do with a three day weekend with them and Little JK.

Fall break arrived and our trip to Zim at last! What a breath of fresh air to fly only one hour, direct, and just be at our destination. JK2 picked us up at the airport and within 30 minutes we were at the beautiful JK homestead. About an hour later we were at a Harry Potter-themed birthday party. It was likely the birthday party of the year and Little JK was not about to miss it. It was a wee bit awkward for C and myself as we did not know anyone other than who we came with (and I happened to know the hostess as well, but she was very busy hosting) but hey we are diplomats, so we made do. That night the JKs took us out to dinner at the fabulous Queen of Hearts, which is on the order of an upscale food court, with Italian, American, and Japanese food on hand.

C and the Tower at Great Zim – Nothing like this in Malawi

By now I was already busy comparing Zim with Malawi. The two countries are geographically close, have similar climates, flora and fauna, a shared history (both British protectorates and part of the short-lived Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland), and similar culture. Both countries struggle with governance and their economies. But there is something very, very tricky about playing the comparison game, especially as a short-term tourist. Though I noticed both countries had the purple-blossomed jacaranda trees in bloom and both were struggling with power cuts of some kind, the nagging deja vu feeling was less a mirror of Malawi as it is now, but as it might have been or could still be; a same-same, but different. Malawi does not have the long lines at the petrol stations (except during the recent two-day trucker strike that blocked the delivery of oil and gas) and the power cuts seem more a function of mismanagement than a deliberate policy, and yet the existing structures of Zimbabwe – the airport, the roads, the Embassy housing, even the range of restaurants – all seemed more modern than in Malawi. Zim seemed both better, and worse.

Early on our second day, we loaded up the JK’s larger vehicle, with suitcases, snacks and several jerry cans of extra fuel, and we made the 4 1/2 hour drive south to Masvingo, and the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Great Zimbabwe. I could not help but find the long drive similar to ones we have encountered in Malawi – distances between villages with little else in-between but scrub brush, static police roadblocks, and seemingly random road works. We were all grateful to pile out of the car at the far end, in a gravel lot in front of the canopied tourist entrance to start a tour of the ruined edifices of a former ancient Shona kingdom.

Great Zimbabwe is actually the largest of approximately 200 similar sites across a part of southern Africa, especially in Zimbabwe and Mozambique (Zimbabwe means “stone houses” in the Shona language). The earliest known mention of the once-great gold trading city was in 1531, by a Portuguese garrison captain based in what is modern-day Mozambique. At a certain time in history, colonialists and white settlers ascribed to the view that the ruins were of Semitic or Arab origin, i.e. could not have been built by Africans. It is perhaps of little wonder that nationalists selected the name Zimbabwe for their independent nation.

Our fabulous rondavel at the Lodge at the Ancient City – outside and in

With our knowledgeable guide we enjoyed our several hour-tour of the ruins through the Great Enclosure, with its five-meter high walls of interlocking stones, fashioned without mortar, the mysterious conical tower, and naturally air-conditioned passageway designed for the king to secretly visit his highest of queens, and then into the Valley Complex, where the lesser of the elites, king’s concubines, and such would have lived. These structures were in a far more ruined state, piles of grey stones in places, in others palm trees growing through the middle of walls, with baboons, monkeys, and the occasional cattle frolicking among them. Then we headed to the museum. And finally, we herded our bedraggled, and yet oddly energized selves (there was something really special about Great Zimbabwe and our tour), back to the car and continued on to our lodging for the evening.

Inside the Lodge’s main building

Although we all found the food options to be somewhat lacking, the ambiance of the Lodge was fantastic. They had designed the main building in the style of Grand Zimbabwe, perhaps at its grandest or at least an imagined magnificence. The simplicity of the outside of our rondavel, a traditional round African-style dwelling, belied the roomy and attractive inside. C and Little JK parked themselves in our room for a bit to play, but with our long drive and then the two-hour walking tour at the site had us all yawning early on.

JK1 and I woke up at the crack of dawn – literally – and made our way back to the Great Zimbabwe site for its 6 AM opening sans JK2 and the kids, with plans to employ another guide to lead us up the Hill Complex. The sky was already light, blue and clear; the sun bright but the air crisp. It was a good time to do a little bit of climbing. Unfortunately, although the stated hours indicated a 6 AM opening and the gate was open, there were no guides yet on site. And thus we waited. Monkeys snuck past the ticket building and scampered across the field toward the Hill Complex as small groups of children began to stream out on their way to school. And grey clouds began to roll in over the Great Zimbabwe complex, the wind began to pick up, and JK1 and I began to regret not having a light jacket. Although October is the warmest month for both Zimbabwe and Malawi, we were not feeling the heat.

Close to 7 AM the guide arrived and we set off. It turned out one does not really need a guide to climb up to the Hill Complex, as the trail is well marked; however, once at the top, we would have had no idea of what we were looking at without our guide Loveness. According to our guide, the Hill Complex was the abode of the king from which he could look over the Great Enclosure, where his number one queen resided, all of his approximate 18,000 subjects, and the entirety of the Mutirikwi valley.

The view from the Seat of Power; JK1 and I on top

As we wound our way up increasingly narrow steps framed with stone walls, which then suddenly terminated at the citadel, I was reminded of the rock fortress at Sirignya in Sri Lanka. Standing below the hill nothing can prepare you for the size and intricacy of the fortress atop. In Zimbabwe, there are large igneous boulders strewn across the landscape, some balancing precariously on top of others. At Great Zimbabwe, such boulders are stacked atop the Hill Complex and were cleverly integrated into the compound. Although I had hoped for blue skies at the summit, the swift-moving grey clouds evoked a sense of history and atmosphere that clearer skies would not have. And at a very few intervals, the clouds granted us cobalt blue.

Our tour at the top took approximately an hour; our guide knowledgeable and thorough. We literally left no stone unturned, historically speaking that is. JK1 and I even had the guts to climb to the top of a balancing rock above a natural auditorium, where supposedly the ruler would sit looking down upon his court, rather a la Lion King and Pride Rock. Getting to what I guess could be termed the Seat of Power was deceptively easy, but once on top, neither JK1 or I wanted to get too close to the edge. The spot afforded incredible views across the valley but the stronger winds and, frankly, the edge and space beyond left my knees a wee bit shaky. (I am not afraid of heights, only afraid of falling from them!) We returned to the parking area via the easier pathway and then headed back to rouse the troops, pack up, and begin our long drive back to Harare.

Once back in Harare, JK1 needed to do some work, so their wonderful nanny took C and Little JK for a playdate next door, while JK2 took me for a short spin around the neighborhood. That night we headed out to a Thai restaurant for dinner. Let me repeat that, a Thai restaurant. And it was authentic and delicious. It was so good I almost wanted to cry; we definitely do not have any Thai food in Malawi.

A little piece of heaven – Imire Lodge

On Tuesday morning we said farewell to the JKs. I had arranged for a driver to pick us up in Harare and take us the 90 minutes southeast to the Imire Rhino and Wildlife Conservation Lodge. C and I have been on a few safaris but C had not yet had the chance to see rhino; I wanted to change that.

We arrived before the 9:30 AM game drive, just in time to partake in a mid-morning tea before departure. We were divided into two jeeps for the day-trippers and the overnighters and headed out into the conservation area.

The upside of a place like this over going to a National Park is the guarantee to see certain animals. At Imire we would see four of the Big Five–elephants, buffalo, rhino, and one lonely, old male lion. The animals were somewhat conditioned to associate the safari vehicle with snack time, giving us up and close personal time with all but the lion (he killed his partner about a decade before and he resides by himself in a large enclosure).

We drove for about 2 1/2 hours and then had a lunch set up in the bush near a reservoir, with benches and tables carved out of rock facing the water. Then another 45 minutes after lunch before heading back to the lodge for afternoon tea and relaxing in the beautiful surroundings. A cheeky monkey grabbed cookies from the spread and headed up as high as he could go into the tallest nearby tree. While normally we might have both got on our devices, the lodge had no power during the day, with the management only switching on the generator at 5 PM. So we had to find non-electricity related activities. There was a pool but the winds were cool and picking up, so we just enjoyed some relaxing time. I sat outside the rondavel, reading and writing in my journal. C made friends with one of the resident dogs (she really would like me to get her a dog) and ran around the lawn and climbed trees. Then in the late afternoon, we went out again for a sunset game drive and sundowner.

Imire animal montage

We were served a delicious four-course meal in the dining tent that evening. The wind had picked up more, whipping through the tent flaps. I had a hard time believing it was October and wished we had packed sweatshirts or light jackets. With our drive out to the lodge that morning and two bumpy safari drives (in Malawi we call these bouncing around on bad roads the “Malawi massage”), so we had no problem turning in early.

The next day, after a lovely breakfast, a driver transported us from Imire to the airport for our return flight to Malawi. And the second part of our Fall Break.

The Wanderlust Diaries

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Month: November 2019

Road Tripping in Malawi

Zim & the Lake Part Two

Zim & the Lake Part One