Our First 36 Hours in Malawi

We arrive in Lilongwe mid-day, bleary eyed after rockin’, late night good-byes and 2.5 days of travel. The transfer in Ethiopia was tight and somewhat hilarious and we are buoyed by the fact that, nonetheless, our motley crew of baggage (two roll-aboards, one larger suitcase and a hiking pack) has arrived safely. The customs official takes one look at the shoes that explode out of my mini roll-aboard when I open it, decides he has seen enough of our luggage and waves us on. We’re officially temporary residents of Malawi!

Cruising down the road to Lilongwe the weather is perfect; seventy-five degrees and sunny with a nice breeze to ruffle the hair. Trees are blooming wildly with purple and pink flowers and there is an impressive foot and bicycle traffic back and forth to the airport in addition to the steady stream of Toyotas.

In true Hooks form, Nathaniel and I get busy right away, hitching a mini bus to Old Town to obtain a cell phone, water, snacks and dinner. The contrast between the conservative clothes (button-down shirts, no skirts above the knee) and the American hip-hop blaring on the mini bus stereo is a striking reminder of the changes taking place here and world over. The excursion is a success despite the fact that the currency conversion (152 kwacha to 1 dollar) makes shopping a continual mental challenge and that buying anything takes an impressive stack of 500 kwacha bills. Wait until we get to pay the rent (35,000 – 175,000 kwacha)!

I have a moment of funny happiness while squeezed into a mini bus on the way home. We’re packed so tightly that I’m leaning half-way out the window with the bus crier smushed, standing, between Nathaniel and I. There’s something about the communal attitude towards travel in this and other countries – so different from the American “get out of my space” griping – that just restores a little bit of my faith in humanity.

Despite the high-pitched beeping of the back-up generator, jet lag prompts a twelve hour crash out, which is interrupted only by a midnight mosquito massacre that results when one slips inside the bednet and makes the mistake of buzzing in Nathaniel’s ear.

Wednesday morning, after a fortifying British breakfast (post-colonialism, right…) Nathaniel heads off to work while I brave the “top up” table and follow up on some apartment / house / car leads. A Serbian documentary film-maker takes us out for a spin in his Toyota Rav3. His enthusiasm for the vehicle (made pre ’97 when Toyota let the Rav become a “soft, city car”) and testimony that it’s great for off-roading make the sell. Of course we still need to figure out how to navigate the Malawian equivalent of the DMV and actually complete the transaction through Dusan’s friend, since our illustrious car salesman and his wife need the car to get dropped at the airport tomorrow, but no worries, right?

The question of the day: deal with the drama of roommates or try outfitting an empty three bedroom house?