I don’t have a knife but I have two spoons…

So what am I eating?  I’m trying to self-cater at least a little bit, but this gets old fast when you move every few days and carry all your food along with you.

Luckily for me, everywhere in Africa the following seem to be readily available; bananas, peanuts and bread in some form.

In East Africa fruits are abundant – mangoes, oranges, papaya, watermelon, and my favorite, pineapple.  Having a pineapple just seems to make everything better.  We’ve also encountered a fair amount of cassava and plantains, which take May back to her days growing up in the Dominican Republic.  It’s easy to find fried cassava and plantain chips for sale at local groceries – both of which are delicious.

Most days I buy a real meal for dinner, either when we go out as a group or at whichever place we happen to be staying.  In Dar es Salaam, Zanzibar and Nairobi we went out to eat a few times, sampling Swahili, Indian and Chinese at reasonably priced restauarants.  The Indian food has been especially good especially in Dar, and at the home of our friend Krupa’s parents in Nairobi, where we were invited one day for lunch.

If I had to choose one food item that seems to dominate our lives it would have to be the cashew nut.  Or cashew nuts, to be precise, as you never eat just one!  After discovering that we could buy a 1 kg bag for less than $5 at the market in Dar, they quickly became an integral part of our diet.  We’ve each eaten at least 1-2 kgs of cashews since we arrived in Dar the first time and we’re still eating them.  It’s gotten so bad we all joke about how many cashews we eat and how we can never eat them again (after we finish our current supplies of course), yet we still do, everyday.    

A Shirt with a Life of its Own and One Big Ass Backpack

For a few weeks I had the distinct impression that Meghan’s smelly workout shirt was following me.  Everywhere I went – there the shirt was – hanging from the rafters or the door knob to dry.  Often it was fluttering in the breeze of a ceiling fan which also served to circulate the Shirt’s pungent odor of BO throughout our shared room at various Southern African backpackers.

I guess at the beginning I wasn’t completely sure Meghan’s Shirt was the source of the smell, as the odor of BO is fairly common in these parts.  So before I unfairly accused the Shirt, I did a some investigating. 

Is it me?  By doing a quick self sniff check I was able to rule myself out.  Someone in the room next door or outside?  No, this smell was much closer to home.  Finally, I got the courage to smell the Shirt at close range, and a positive identification of the culprit was made. This accomplished, I began the much more difficult task of convincing Meghan it was time to WASH the Shirt.

Meghan is about 5’2, 130 lbs and her 80 litre backpack is almost as big and heavy as she is.  It’s definitely even if one adds the 15-20 lbs of stuff she carts around with her in 4 smaller bags.  Her stuff has grown since the trip began and shows no signs of diminishing, as she’s decided to buy presents from what must be close to the entire state of Minnesota.  Some of these things include:

1 bottle of wine

1 bottle of raunchy Malawi Gin

5 one kg bags of cashew nuts

9 spice boats (plus 20 smaller spice packets)

5+ yards of Tanzanian fabric.

Then she has enough clothing so that she can go almost and entire month without wearing the same thing twice.

Nora in contrast doesn’t have enough clothing, and she somehow keeps ripping holes in her pants and get the few items she does have impossibly dirty.  She has so few clothes that she wears the same thing almost everyday; purple shirt, green shirt, brown shirt, repeat.

Oh the girls, this trip wouldn’t be as fun without them!

Malawi: The Warm Heart of Africa

I really like Malawi and I think we left too soon after spending only a little over a week there; mostly in the northern part of the country.

We took a horribly long night bus to Lilongwe from Lusaka.  At the Zambia-Malawi border we were made to exit the bus with all our belongings for some kind of check, although as soon as we lugged everything off they just told us to get right back on again, without actually checking anything.  Bizarre.  I was tired and cranky at this point (it was like 2am) and none too pleased to be participating. But at border crossings the best thing to do is keep your mouth shut and cooperate.

Lilongwe was similar to Lusaka in that it was a dusty and unremarkable place.  We did spend sometime at the local market there were I found some colorful African fabrics.  The market also had a section which sold used clothing – presumably donations from North Amercia and Europe.  Picture young African men wearing T-shirts that say: “Bingo-aholic” and “Altoona Girls Softball”.

From Lilongwe we headed north to Mzuzu (Malawi’s 3rd largest city, although you’d never know it) from where it was just a short hop by dladla down to the town of Nkhata Bay.

Nkhata Bay is right on Lake Malawi, one of the largest fresh water lakes in the world.  It’s kind of similar to the North American Great Lakes in that there are a few sandy beaches and sometimes a few waves.  But there the similarities end.

Unlike the Great Lakes, Lake Malawi is ringed by palm trees, boulders and African bush.  Locals’ livelihoods, based on fishing and ferrying, are tied to the Lake as they have been for hundreds of years.  These activities are accomplished using traditional dugout canoes and motorized boats are seldom seen.

Despite rumors of a dastardly Lake bacteria/worm/parasite I decided to try scuba diving there.  I was reassured by the fact that the local dive master, Steve (yep that’s right Scuba Steve), looked healthy enough.

Nkhata Bay is surrounded by steep hills, and the earth just keeps plummeting down after it meets the water.  Scuba diving there is like swimming alongside a cliff, with a few sandy plateaus appearing from time to time.  While it doesn’t have as wide an array of fish as can be found in coral reef dive sites in the ocean, Lake Malawi’s aqualife is still exotic.   I saw an upside-down fish (which swims upside-down, duh) and a Mouth Brooder that sucks its group of tiny babies into its mouth like a vacuum cleaner when danger approaches.

Meghan and Nora spent most of their time in Nkhata Bay at the local shebeen sampling Chikula or “Shake-Shake”, traditional maize been sold in a paper milk-like carton.

Malawians live up to their reputation as Africa’s friendliest people.  We were often greeted in Nkhata Bay by locals, and not just because they wanted something, but because they were actually being genuinely nice.  They all said the same thing, “You are Most Welcome.”  If I ever meet someone from Malawi in my own country I will be sure to tell them that as well.  

Don’t go to Vic Falls in October

Our first stop in Zambia was Livingstone, home of legendary Victoria Falls. Unfortunately we arrived at probably the worst time to see it due to the low water level of the Zambezi River, which produced little more than a trickle, instead of the roaring waterfall we expected to see.

The Zimbabwe side of the falls (which we were able to catch a glimpse of while still in Zambia) looked a bit more impressive however none of us wanted to deal with the hassle of crossing the Zim border to get a better look.

Nora visited Victoria Falls last April and said at that time it was spectacular. I guess April must be the time to go. It definitely isn’t October!

“Like Mary, Mother of Jesus?”

My friend and traveling companion Mayerlin has a very unique name which is difficult for many people to pronounce after hearing it for the first time.  To make it easier for us, Mayerlin often introduces herself as May, for short.

In Africa many people want to greet foreigners and this greeting will involve asking your name.   For us as three single females traveling many of these friendly greeters are often random men.  You’d think that Mayerlin introducing herself by her nickname would speed up this often tedious process (often these guys are harmless but annoying nonetheless) however the conversation will invariably proceed as follows:

Random Man:  So what is your name?

May:  It’s May.

RM:  Oh, ok Mary.

May:  No, May.

RM:  Like Mary, Mother of Jesus?

May:  No, like the month…May, June, July.

RM:  So Mary, where are you from?

May:  The Dominican Republic.

RM:  The what?

May:  The Dominican Republic…It’s an island…in the Caribbean…

RM:  (dumbfounded silence)

May: ….near Jamaica….

RM:  Oh Jamaica!!  I love Reggae music! You know Bob Marley?

Sometimes at this point May will claim Bob as a relative, and sometimes I think they might actually believe her.

The Joys of Public Transport in Africa

On this African adventure my companions and I have vowed to use public transport almost entirely; buses (long distance and local), minibuses, ferry boats and trucks.

The advantages of public transport are of course the cheap price but also the experience of rubbing elbows with locals (although this can be both enjoyable and unpleasant..)  Some of the disadvantages of pub trans include long waiting periods, infrequent bathroom stops and losing all of the feeling in your ass.

The Bus

The majority of our progress thus far has been made using the long distance bus.  I will have to check with Nora to be sure about the travel times but here they are roughly:

Jo-burg (SA) – Gaborone (Bots) : 5 hrs

Gabs – Palapye : 3 hrs 

Palapye – Maun : 4 hrs

Maun – Nata : 3 hrs

Livingstone (Zam) – Lusaka : 6 hrs

Lusaka (Zam) – Lilongwe (Malawi) : 14 hrs

Lilongwe – Mzuzu : 6 hrs (it was supposed to be 4 but the bus got a flat tire)

Mbeya (Tanzania) – Dar es Salaam : 12 hrs

That’s alot of time on a bus.  Mostly bus rides aren’t that interesting, but once in a while something notable will happen.  In Malawi a volunteer typically leads the passengers in prayer before setting off.  I don’t know if this occurs because of the devout religious faith of Malawians or because of their fear that the bus won’t reach its destination…

In Botswana if you arrive late or get on the bus when its already full you’re left standing in the aisle until a seat opens up – if a seat opens up. 

The only bus ride so far that has featured live animals was in Tanzania (unless you consider cockaroaches to be live animals, in which case we also encountered some on a Zambian bus), and it was what I believe to be a single chicken discreetly concealed in a small cardboard box.   I wouldn’t have even noticed it except for the box’s makeshift airholes and the soft clucking noise that emanated from within, which definitely indicated the presence of a fowl.  Also in Tanzania we saw two goats tied to the top of a tanker truck.

Then there are hawkers selling everything from airtime to to bananas to cheap fashion jewlerly and shoes.  They swarm the bus stations and ranks – and in TZ even the places where the bus even slows down for more than 10 seconds.  The hawkers in Botswana are the most aggressive while those in TZ have the widest variety of goods, offering their wares up to the high bus windows on spiked sticks or boxes balanced on their heads.

Minibuses

Knowns as “taxis” in South Africa – they can be some of the most cramped and uncomfortable means of long distance transportation – however I would still prefer them over riding in the back of a truck.

Maun – Bush Camp (Bots) : 1 hour

Mzuzu – Nkhata Bay and back (malw): 4 hrs

Mzuzu – Chitimba: 2 hrs

Chitimba Malawi – Tanzanian border: 2 hrs

After crossing the TZ border and walking about 1 km, we got on a vehicle of Chinese origin that I do not feel can be correctly classified as either bus or minibus – but somewhere in between.  We took this what-what from the border post to Mbeya and the trip was about 2 hours.

Our first minibus experience with all our crap was in Botswana – and it was pretty comical since we all have about as much stuff as we can carry.   The minibuses there don’t have any space for luggage in the back so you have to hold everything on your lap – and the laps of whatever people happen to be unlucky enough to be sitting beside you in the front row.

The minibuses we rode in later had room in the back for our packs.  Not that this meant they were any more comfortable….

Add : Space for luggage

Subtract : leg room between rows, all seat padding and consequently all feeling in one’s ass after about 30 minutes.

Trucks

Don’t worry Mom, it isn’t exactly the same as hitch-hiking…not all the time anyway

Nata (Bots) – Livingstone (Zam) : 8 hrs

Chitimba – Livingstonia (Malawi) : 30 mins

Following a 3-4 hour bus ride from Maun via Nata, Botswana we arrived at a petrol station in no-man’s-land only to find there was no connecting bus to the Zambian border…

Meghan, our intrepid little negotiator arranged a lift for us in the back of a man’s pick-up truck all the way to our final destination in Livingstone, Zambia.  Our fellow traveler in the truck was a lone Japanese man who appeared out of  seemed somewhat out of place without the usual gaggle of sun-protected, picture-snapping countrymen.

Sun protection was something my friends and I all could have used a bit more of on this leg of the trip.  Pigmently-challenged Nora covered herself with every article of clothing she could manage to grab out of her backpack at high speed, while I arrived partially sunburnt (failing to re-apply Block appropriately).  Meghan, who generally laughs in the face of sunblock was burnt to a crisp and subsequently peeled in a bizarre pattern which gave her the appearance of suffering from a rare skin disease for several weeks.

Ferry Boats

We haven’t had to take very many of these so far.  The first trip was pretty short and uneventful by itself

Bots – Zam border crossing, Zambezi river : 10 mins

The second trip from Dar es Salaam to Zanzibar Island (4 hours) was a bit more interesting due to high waves and barfing children.  There was no barfing Amber though – Thank God for seasickness pills!

We head back to mainland TZ today from Zanzibar…so we’ll be able to add a few more hours to the ferry total!