Petes, Pens, and Plums

With all that has been happening lately, I still haven’t written about my December vacation (I know, I’m really behind!), so here goes.  First of all, Christmas with a Dutch family is a novel experience.  In the Netherlands, instead of Santa Clause coming to your house on Christmas Eve, Sintaklaas comes two weeks before Christmas with his helpers, all known as Zwarte (Black) Pete (a concept that would definitely not fly in the States).  He arrives in the Netherlands by way of boat from Spain (where he has his summer home, I guess) and gets around by horse once on land. Actually, he can visit your house multiple times during a 2-week period (during the last week of November and the first week of December), so everyone places a shoe in front of the fireplace and the next morning awakes to gifts! Of course, you also place some water for the horse and maybe a carrot.  The horse is generally very thirsty, so the water is gone in the morning, and they all make a terrible mess!  Soot gets on the floor from when Sintaklaas and Zwarte Pete come through the chimney and they leave candies and pepernoten (kind of like gingerbread, but better!) all over the place!  One night I left a shoe by the fireplace too. Early the next morning, Wouter and Ilsa ran into the guest house very excited. Wouter was screaming at me that I got something. I was really surprised since I didn’t think Sintaklaas knew about me, let alone that I was in Zambia! I asked him what I got. 

“You got a cook!  A cook!” 

“You mean a cookie?” 

He nodded vigorously and we went to look.  Indeed, Sintaklaas had given me a cookie! A very large cookie! (Though a cook would have been nicer.) Another night, Wouter wanted to give one of his puzzles to Zwarte Pete. The next morning, the pieces to the puzzle were strewn about the fireplace and there was a note that the puzzle had been too hard for poor Zwarte Pete, and anyway, Sintaklaas and Pete only give gifts, they can’t take them.  The letter was covered in soot. Sometimes, before the kids went to bed, we’d sit in a circle by the fireplace and sing Dutch Christmas songs. Well, I just pretended to sing since I don’t actually know any Dutch Christmas songs. I guess it was my first true Christmas!  And it was a blast seeing how easily the kids bought into it! For Christmas Eve, Ramona and I had a Dutch bread party after she got back from church. (Ramona claims it’s a Dutch tradition, but other Dutch people I know have never heard of it). Basically, we had some different types of bread and lots of spreads like Nutella, cheese, and jams…pretty much what the name implies… 

Later that week, I finally went to Kamwala, which is a market downtown. It was crazy busy and crowded but definitely an experience. And you can find virtually anything you could want! Luckily, we had Frida’s daughter, Precious, with us, so I think we got decent prices for the things we bought.

Most of the people I know made plans to leave the country for the holidays, so I did the same.  It took me a really long time to decide where to go, but I finally settled on Malawi. Airline tickets seemed ridiculously expensive, so I made up my mind to brave the really long bus ride. People keep telling me how impressed they are that I traveled to Malawi on my own, so maybe it was actually quite stupid to do, but in the end, I’m very glad I did it.

Getting to Lilongwe wasn’t much of a problem. Luckily, I thought ahead and emailed Amy, a fellow Fulbrighter, in Malawi. We had met briefly in orientation, and she remembered me well enough to offer me a place to stay. The bus ride was about 12 hours long with a 2-hour stopover at the border to pass through immigration and customs. We got to the bus depot in Lilongwe very late. It was completely deserted – the city basically wakes up and shuts down with the sun – and a bit creepy, but I had the number of a reliable taxi driver, who dropped me off at Amy’s, so I had a comfortable few hours sleep before getting up to go to the lake. Though I’ve never taken a minibus in Lusaka, something about budget travelling “inspired” me to go for it in Lilongwe. I took the minibus from Lilongwe to Salima, hunting through the rows for one that claimed to be leaving soon. And when do they leave? When they’re full of course! What a stupid question…

The minibus ride wasn’t too bad, but once in Salima, I had to figure out how to get to the Wheelhouse Marina where I was staying. So once at the minibus depot in Salima, I caught another minibus to Senga Bay and had to pay a little extra to get them to take me to the Wheelhouse since the road was bad and I couldn’t find a taxi.

I finally arrived at the Wheelhouse and soon discovered that I was the only guest and that the owner was off on a boat ride for the day. (In such a small place, you would expect the owner to come greet you sometime during your stay, but she didn’t.) My little hut was decent…its best feature was the shore of Lake Malawi, 10 feet from my doorstep.  I met a gaggle of schoolgirls swimming around in the water who invited me to join them. I find it kind of awkward and dull to swim by yourself unless you’re doing laps or something, so it was nice to see other people.  They were from all over the world and happened to be studying together in Lilongwe. They left after a few hours to go home, so I swam around a bit longer, then dived into Conrad’s “Heart of Darkness”, a short read but by no means light. 

The Wheelhouse Marina is so named for its wheel-shaped bar that sits on top of the water. It sounds much cooler than it was and the food was really bad, but I think that’s less the fault of the Marina than it is of Malawi in general. The lake was magnificent though. The water was clear and warm and no crocodiles! The next morning, I swam for a bit and read. At one point, I noticed a dark cloud over part of the shore ahead and thought it was moving rather fast, so I took some pictures. When I showed them to Amy later, she said it wasn’t a cloud but a swarm of lake flies! Flies! Millions of flies! Which I find fascinating and disgusting at the same time. 

I left the lake around midday. It was New Year’s Eve, and I didn’t want to spend it alone, so I took a minibus back to Lilongwe. Along the road, I was amazed at the differences between Malawi and Zambia. Malawi supposedly has the same population as Zambia (around 11 million) but it’s a fifth of the size, and a third of it is covered by the lake! (Don’t quote me on those proportions) There were people everywhere in Malawi!  In Zambia, if you drive between two cities, you might see a few people along the road, little bursts of civilization, but mostly bush. In Malawi, there are always people alongside the road, walking or biking. There aren’t actually that many bikes in Zambia. Also, every inch of land in Malawi is covered by crops. It’s quite amazing! I’m not sure I’ve seen that much corn in Indiana! And tomatoes!  So many tomatoes! Stands of tomatoes stretched for at least a quarter of mile along one part of the road. No joke! Pyramids upon pyramids of tomatoes lined up! And I don’t know who buys the tomatoes. They might get a few customers a day, but most people just drive by.  What do they do with all those tomatoes?

Anyway, I arrived in Lilongwe, waited for the taxi guy to show up at the bus depot to get me and went back to Amy’s. One of her housemates, Daniel, recently bought a dog. It was for sale on the side of the street and he couldn’t resist. It is a very cute dog! The same mix as Moto, I think. Only this dog is named The Dude (apparently a Big Lebowski reference). He’s a bit insane, just like Moto, which only makes me more certain that they’re the same mix (part Rottweiler and something else). The Dude was about three months old at the time and loved to bite (playful biting), but he’d get these crazy eyes when he wanted to play a biting game, so it was kind of strange (further confirmation because Moto always has this stupid look in his eyes and thinks it’s a game to bite your wrists). He was also growing very fast and sometimes wobbled when he walked, trying to get used to his legs.

After we played with The Dude for a while, we headed over to Manon and Peter’s house. They are a Dutch family with whom Amy and Daniel are friends. Daniel is Dutch too. (I know!  I keep finding Dutch people!) We had some traditional Dutch New Year’s Eve dishes, like olebolen (literally, oil balls), and we played a game that was both Taboo and Charades in one. Then we set off some fireworks and drank some champagne to toast the New Year!  It was great! A real New Year’s party!

The next day, Daniel, Amy and I set off to the Zomba Plateau. Zomba is between Blantyre (the other large city in Malawi) and Lilongwe, though closer to the former.  We stopped about halfway at an art shop in a city whose name I can’t remember. An American woman, who moved to Malawi with her Italian husband and who used to be in the Peace Corps in Madagascar, set up a large art studio to support local artists. They design and paint wall hangings and pillow cases. They have other crafts, but they’re known for the wall hangings, which are gorgeous!  

Once in Zomba, about four hours after setting off from Lilongwe, we drove up a long winding road to reach the plateau. On one side was a view of the city of Zomba growing smaller and smaller under the setting sun as we drove higher. Young boys were selling fruits at every turn. Around one curve, several boys were selling plums and one after the other, they chanted “plums” in their sweet young voices as we passed. It was like passing a choir, a plum choir, as Amy put it. 

As per the advice of the Peace Corps Italian-marrying American woman, we decided to stay at the Trout Farm. I guess we arrived right before breeding season because they had very few trout. They didn’t have that many rooms left, but they did have a wonderful wood cabin on a hill. There was no electricity and the only running water came from the kitchen faucet, but it was cozy and clean and we had a balcony overlooking the farm. 

The next morning, we ordered tea and coffee for breakfast, Daniel being a coffee addict. Unfortunately, there was some confusion and he received chocolate powder instead. He claimed he could handle it, so we started off to view the plateau. We drove down to the dam and walked around to where there was supposed to be a waterfall. There were a lot of frisky monkeys frolicking around of which we took plenty of pictures. We spent the rest of the morning driving around the plateau to various viewpoints: the Queen’s View, the Emperor’s View and so on, and walked around a bit.  The road was awful in some places so we were really glad to have Daniel’s 4x4.  Originally, it would have just been Amy and me in her Toyota sedan which would definitely not have made it so far.

The Emperor’s View was one of the best viewpoints. The beautiful rolling hills of Malawi and a view of the lake were laid out before us.  Just as we were about to hop back into the car, two men appeared and tried to sell us some paintings. Daniel liked one of them and asked the price, to which the man responded 6000 Kwacha (about $40).  We started to walk away, but the man kept lowering his price. Daniel said he wouldn’t pay more than 1500, an offer the man was reluctant to accept until we were about to drive off. He asked us if we had a pen. He said he would sell it for 1500 Kwacha and a pen! One of the things you learn quickly in Africa is to guard your pens. They tend to disappear, and up on the Zomba Plateau, when you’re an artist and lucky to see even a few tourists a day, I guess it makes sense to ask for a pen.

We had been told that the Zomba Plateau was renowned for its mist, but we hadn’t seen too much yet. At the final viewpoint, we walked for a bit and relaxed on some rocks. Within five minutes, we were enshrouded in mist!  We couldn’t see more than five or six feet in front of us! We managed to find the car and tried to get down the plateau, but the map we had was so horrible and there was still quite a bit of mist, we took about a two-hour detour along really horrible dirt and potholed roads. Tired from hiking and getting lost, we drove all the way down the plateau and found a restaurant in the city of Zomba. By the time we got back to the Trout Farm, it was dark. I managed to take a shower by flashlight, an interesting experience…

The next morning, we attempted to get coffee again. This time it arrived, but it was instant, which was better than chocolate powder, but not being filtered, it can’t be considered real coffee. Daniel, though disappointed, said he could cope.  We decided to drive to the highest viewpoints on this final morning in Zomba. The first spot had a view of the valley below and was the site of a large tree growing out of a deep hole. The valley was named Dead Man’s Valley because, back in the day, they would throw people who had leprosy (and perhaps other unfortunate diseases) down the treehole. During the rainy season, the bodies would wash out into the valley below. At least this is what the men with a rock stand next to the tree told us. Sadly, the minute we arrived, the mist came in and we could see nothing. We decided to wait it out, but a half hour later, we still couldn’t see the valley below. The second viewpoint was actually the highest point on the plateau, so you would think there would be more people or at least a bench, but it was just cell phone, TV and radio towers. 

We bid farewell to the Zomba Plateau and headed back to Lilongwe, not however, without a stop at Annie’s Garden in one last attempt to find filter coffee.  We asked the waitress twice if it was filter coffee, she said yes, but our order arrived with hot water and packets of instant coffee. I think Daniel felt a bit jaded. 

The voyage back to Lusaka the next day was quite an adventure. After the taxi took me to the minibus station, I waited for two hours to get a minibus to Mchinji. There was one just leaving when I arrived, but people were already falling out of it, so I decided to wait for the next one. Big mistake! Though it was Sunday, I didn’t anticipate that there would be less travel, and the minibus always waits until it’s full to leave. I finally arrived in Mchinji, where I had to take a taxi to the border, go through immigration to Zambia, then take another taxi from the border to Chipata where I could get a bus to Lusaka. I had been told that I could catch a bus from Chipata to Lusaka at almost any time. They leave so frequently. Well, not on Sundays. Apparently, when I arrived, I had just missed one leaving to Lusaka. There were two buses in the lot and the staff from both of them immediately surrounded me. Both groups were telling me the other guys were drunk (which they weren’t) and that they weren’t going to leave that day, only in the morning.  So then, I freaked out a little because there was no way I was going to spend the night in Chipata! I made the guys give me the numbers of their bosses who were actually pretty honest with me and told me that if they left, it probably wouldn’t be until 1:30 or 2 in the afternoon.  So I hung around and waited. I waited a long time, and wasn’t actually sure that the bus was going to leave, but it finally did, around 2.  That meant I didn’t get into Lusaka until 9 in the evening, but Ramona and Frida came to get me.  I had never been to the Lusaka bus station at night (never having needed to) and I was surprised at how many people there were (especially after the deserted Lilongwe station). Apparently buses can leave really early in the morning, so some people just camp out at the station, but many of them are refugees, especially from Zimbabwe, who don’t have anywhere else to go.

After such a long day of traveling, I was really glad to get home, and I’m pretty certain I won’t be taking the bus for a while. I’m glad I did it once, but it was enough of an adventure for me.