Pizza for Every Meal (aka Back on the Minibus)

After a delightful weekend up on the Zomba plateau, the big red truck was headed back to Lilongwe... without me. I was headed to Blantyre, Malawi’s commercial center and setting for tomorrow’s National Fortification Alliance meeting. But I’m getting ahead of myself. For breakfast Ben had whipped up scrambled eggs and reheated leftover slices of Melody’s delicious veggie pizza from the night before. 8:30am, pizza number one.

After winding our way down from the foggy heights of the plateau, I parted ways with my erstwhile traveling companions and, after learning the next bus to Blantyre didn’t depart until two, schlepped over to “Tasty Bites” a freshly-painted coffee shop on the edge of town. “Coffee with milk, please.” “Do you want strong?” “Sure.” And sure enough, after a delay long enough that they could’ve been custom roasting the beans, my coffee arrived—strong enough that it took me the rest of the morning sipping to finish it off. Come noon it was time for lunch. The only veggie option on the menu? You guessed it: pizza number two.

With “fuel in the tank” so to speak, I trekked back over to the bus depot and sat down to wait for my departure. Two o’clock came and went, with nary a sign. I didn’t have a ticket (“buy on the bus”) and or any particular customer loyalty, so when a fairly functional-looking minibus with a Blantyre sign in the window started inching forward through the mass of touts, vendors, and assorted hangers-about I buttonholed the driver, learned the price (500 KW or ~$2.75) and hopped in.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should reveal that I’m currently about half way through Paul Theroux’s “Dark Star Safari” a by turns nostalgic and disillusioned recounting of his overland travel from Cairo to Capetown in 2001. Did his waxing rhapsodic over the truth to be found in traveling by chicken bus sway my decision? Perhaps. I will admit that travel in this manner, squeezed four abreast into the bumpy bench seats and hugging my daypack atop hiked-up knees with the open window blowing my hair back, has it’s charms. No meaningful other activity (reading, laptop, etc.) is possible so one’s objective becomes simply to arrive. And without the possibility of effecting the speed (or lack thereof) of travel, gone too is all responsibility for timeliness. We’ll get there when we get there, and that’s all there is to it. And when the bus stops in a totally unrecognizable market town somewhere outside of Blantyre, well, I’ll just get on another one. Having to rely on the kindness of fellow travelers to point me the right way, traveling light, and walking the last stretch to the hotel all took me back to an earlier time, when I wasn’t trying to solve any problems beyond how to get to the next town, where to find some decent food and a warm bed for the night.

But that was then, and this is now. After checking in it was back to reality; working email and the phones, trying to convince people to take the next little step, that their effort and engagement are needed, that nobody else can sort this out for them. Not exactly grueling physical labor, but still work enough to build up an appetite. Lo and behold, what should the hotel food court offer? Veg pizza. I suppose I could’ve ordered a salad, but what fun would that have been? Reading more Theroux and nursing a Fanta Orange I went for the hat trick: pizza number three. All in all it was a delicious day, a welcome departure from the norm.

Life Map

So what have we been doing in the weeks between these gauntlets of travel? Working, cooking, and watching the ever-evolving life-map branch ahead of us -- circling around and around the upcoming forks in the road. Answers are hard to come by through discussion alone, and though frustrated by the fog of decisions-yet-to-be-made-by-others-that-will-impact-us, we’re trying to be patient and let things fall as they will.

The clarity around my own career choices I hoped would come with time and distance has coalesced into one not-so-helpful conclusion: There are structural problems in educational systems the world over, but there are also young people across the globe who need the kind of support and opportunity that comes from close relationships with mentors and teachers. I enjoy both sides of the work and have my own strengths and weaknesses in each area, so which direction to choose? In the end, perhaps it’s the fact that I love working with a team that will make the decision – traditional classroom teaching is a somewhat solitary pursuit and I miss the excitement of brainstorming a really amazing and spot-on training curriculum with other passionate professionals.

And, of course, there are other considerations and constraints. I was determined to move to Athol with Nathaniel next year, try out living in a rural community, elements of which we both miss from our childhoods, and take whatever job I could find in the area. As of now, it seems like the opportunities for compelling work are slim – hopefully some teaching jobs if any open up in the nearby tiny school districts over the summer, maybe some student affairs jobs at local colleges if I’m willing to commute a ways, certainly nanny and tutor jobs if I’m willing to just take anything. An email from a search firm looking for a nonprofit manager in Boston made me realize how much I love that side of the work as well, how much my network in Boston might make it possible to find not just a decent job but a great job, and how much I miss the closeness of community we’ve already built in the city. So, live partially apart for a year and face tough geographic decisions again at the end of farm school? (Boo) Invest in Athol and, if we don’t love it, or the right opportunities aren’t there, start over again in 2013 (exhausting thought!)?

Of course it’s not as bad as all that. From a different perspective it’s a choice between great options and we count ourselves incredibly lucky. Updates as we find answers!

...And More Travel!

We’ve been dismal bloggers lately, mostly because the “we’re leaving in a really short time” realization has kicked in and we’ve traveled five of the last seven weekends. Our trip to a new part of Lake Malawi, Cape Maclear, with friends Keith and Melody, involved extensive kayaking, drinking and hanging out on the beach. Last weekend we hiked Mulanje Mountain with friends Dave and Hailey, and had various adventures on the drive down and back. Photos really tell the tales best!

Cape Maclear

Mulanje Mountain

And this weekend, off to Zomba plateau for more hiking and hanging out by the fire!

Things I Learned on Safari

Elephants are awesome. Lions and giraffes, also awesome. Zebras have a lot of gas in their stomach (created by symbiotic bacteria), fart often, especially when startled, and look pregnant year round. Hippos have surprisingly small legs, are slightly pink colored, and can trot daintily – suddenly the image of fantasia’s dancing pink hippos makes more sense. I am like a small child when faced with large animals in their natural habitat – way more excited and awe filled than I expected.

The vacation seems ill-fated as we wake up early for the drive to Zambia’s South Luwangwa National Park. There’s no power at the house, meaning no caffeine for Nathaniel. I manage to find an open coffee shop (no small feat on any day in Lilongwe, and especially impressive given it’s Good Friday) however they have apparently just installed a new espresso machine and, after impatiently waiting 30 minutes, we have to bolt down our cappuccinos to get on the road. 

We’re feeling better after a breezy stretch of well maintained highway between Lilongwe and the border. The crossing is also hassily but relatively painless and we’re through in less than an hour. And then…130km of rough dirt road. The RAV takes it like a champ, only scraping bottom once but we’re sweaty, bedraggled and grouchy with each other by the time we finally near the park. We’re literally only a few kilometers away when we encounter a rumpus of vehicles in the road. Really people?! We’ve been on the road for eight hours – can’t you just let us through?! Oh wait. There are GIRAFFES RIGHT THERE!!!

The mood is immediately lifted, and things only get better as we pull into Flatdogs Camp to find an extremely welcoming, professional and efficient staff and a gorgeous setting. Our slowness on the road (we do have to sell the car in a few months, after all) has put us behind other arrivals and we’ve missed out on a tent platform. Luckily, that small disappointment can barely dent our mood after a refreshing swim in the river-side pool, some delicious cocktails and dinner and a gorgeous sunset over the river.

Hippos are pretty ubiquitous in camp – you can hear them snorting, mooing, calling, all day. Sort of like a big man using a tuba like a kazoo to laugh through. And as we’re eating dinner the first night, the waiter comes over to tell us that hippos are grazing on the lawn. (They come out of the river at night to browse until the sun comes up.) There they are - munching away only about twenty feet from us. At night, they come and browse right near the tents – totally ignoring you unless you startle them. I’m barely bothered by the fact that I’m woken by one at 3am. It’s exciting to see them so close! Only downside: neither Nathaniel or I are willing to risk getting out of the tent to pee, which makes it a bit of a long stretch until morning.

The game drives (6am-10am and again from 4pm-8pm) are incredible. Animals everywhere in abundance! By the end of our first game drive, we’re passing some elephants playing in a marsh to the left and our guide doesn’t even pause. Instead he’s whipping off the road to the right to show us a leopard tortoise, which is apparently much tougher to spot. Other exciting events that aren’t possible to capture on film: a fish eagle swooping down and catching a fish, an elephant sniffing at us while we crouch down to avoid angering him on our walking safari (don’t worry – the guides are super professional and armed), and lions roaring to one another across the field. The animals don’t really seem to be bothered by the safari trucks at all. In fact, when we see a leopard, there’s a sad and chaotic jumble of about ten safari trucks all roaring around each other to try to secure better views, and he just ignores us, stalking off into the bush. (Apparently this level of crowding is pretty unusual and is due to the holiday weekend.) Mostly, we appreciate that both of our guides make an effort to get away from the crowds. 

There's still a lot of sitting, but between the amazing service and wider variety of activities at the camp, the cushy seats and mid-drive tea breaks and the amazing sights, it's a whole different ball of wax than our first safari (sorry Malawi). Check out a few of our best photos...

Now back to the grind for the homestretch! 

Zanzibar

Unlike Dar, Zanzibar is a major tourist destination, so there is no way we will escape detection as such. The good news is that means we don’t feel bad about pulling out the camera! A little photo journal of the trip will share some of the highlights. Not pictured:

The Museum of Culture and History in the House of Wonders | The same guide book author has frequently touted museums as “excellent” that are little more than science fair exhibits in molding old buildings. Thus we’re not expecting much when we stroll through the enormous traditional doors into the House of Wonders (so named because it was the first place on the island to have electric lights). The museum is actually great, with extensive information about the Swahili culture, the island’s days as a trading empire, how to build a traditional dhow without using any nails, and the forward thinking Princess Salme (whose autobiography I’m looking forward to tracking down).

Cats | Unlike the turtles, the many cats of Zanzibar are remarkably un-photogenic. We see almost no dogs in all of Stone Town, but there are endless cats – the most well fed street cats either of us have ever seen! Not surprising given the preponderance of fisherman on the island, we suppose, but it definitely makes us miss Cat Watson.

Belgians | We’re accompanied on our day long spice tour by three Belgians and a couple of New Yorkers. As we wait for the home-cooked lunch to be ready mid-day, we engage in an incredibly interesting conversation about the political situations in Zanzibar and Belgium. Our well informed guide helps us understand Zanzibar’s complicated situation as a part of Tanzania (since 1964), yet with its own additional president and parliament. The Belgians scoff at this and launch into an explanation of the endless complications in their own country (which hasn't had a government in over a year).

East Coast Beaches | We are warned not to bring valuables down to the beach, so unfortunately there are no shots of the pretty much endless white sand beach stretching along the east side of the island. A wide coral shelf makes swimming impossible at all but the highest tide, but we take a loooong walk one afternoon during which time we encounter only a handful of other people – a great excursion with a stiff breeze to keep us company and cut the heat.

Rain | Wednesday and Thursday demonstrate the reasons why the coast is so deserted for the rainy season. It’s great timing for us, since we’ve seen most of what we want to see and are glad for the accompanying cool as we make our way back to Dar, do some souvenir shopping and track down a few last delicious meals. Our little point and shoot camera is unfortunately unable to capture the dramatic downpours.

By the end of the trip, homebodies that we are, we’re well fed, well rested and our tans are nicely refreshed, but we’re happy to get back to our own space in Lilongwe. 

The right (left) side of the road...

Having exhausted most of the sightseeing in this not-so-tourist-oriented town, I’m in the midst of a movie-watching marathon at the hotel while Nathaniel attends the conference and an after hours meeting with his colleague. A man hops into a motorcycle and takes off down the road – the wrong (right) side of the road! [Like how word-play-tacular this can get?] No, wait. It’s an American movie. Readjust paradigms.

I’ve been pleased, in general, by how much living and traveling abroad this past year has contributed to my ability to navigate around Dar the last few days. The private mini-bus system is just like the ones in Lilongwe and the Caribbean. No need to take a taxi when the bus costs TSH 300 (20 cents). I don’t get smushed in the hectic traffic because I’ve finally internalized which way to look first before crossing the street. Bargaining with taxi drivers and curio salesmen, brushing off curious passers-by in a friendly but firm way and estimating distances in kilometers are all a bit more second-nature than they were when we set out for our honeymoon a year ago. 

Of course that doesn’t prevent me from getting on the wrong bus Thursday morning. I’m trying to get to the “big shopping mall” to see what there is to see in terms of commercial shopping and I know the neighborhood where it’s located. I think I’ve asked the conductor if this bus goes to the mall, but it becomes clear, as we reach the end of the line without passing anything remotely resembling a big, new strip mall, that our communication may have been a bit less complete than I hoped. No problem – another 300 shillings and a lasso motion with my hand and the driver and conductor laugh good-naturedly at the crazy mzungu and let me ride all the way back to city center.

It’s not a wasted trip, by any means, if I were getting oriented to the city to settle in. Along the way we pass the textiles street (which I was surprised not to see near the main market) and the area (like Lilongwe’s coffin road) where furniture is built and sold from sheds. I also note a few local colleges, a big park, and the location of the big Shoprite grocery store. I've already visited the spice / dry goods / vegetable market and we've been loving the greater variety and higher quality of restaurant food and other services available. Final verdict on Dar? Maybe not an amazing place to visit, but it could be a really nice place to live.

Dar es Salaam

As I’ve mentioned before, I try to avoid taking pictures in the city where it just makes me more conspicuous. It makes a big difference to wear a modest skirt and sandals (rather than the shorts / cargo capris and “built for comfort” shoe uniform of the backpacker) in terms of the amount of hassling by street vendors and taxi drivers trying to make a sale. No reason to ruin the “local mzungu” mirage, so I’ll just have to paint you a word picture of my first few days in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.

Air Malawi (which we’ve heard horror stories about in terms of timeliness) is prompt and efficient and we arrive in Dar with a minimum of fuss. After helping an older woman at the ATM machine (she isn’t doing the 1500 shillings: 1 dollar conversion right and is befuddled when it won’t let her take out 500 shillings) and rounding up the other Malawians here to attend the flour fortification conference with Nathaniel, we’re off to the hotel.

Dar is definitely bigger and more developed than Lilongwe (no surprise). Two lane roads with traffic lights and plenty of street lighting and neon all give a sense of hustle and bustle. I’m thus surprised when I hit the national museum today to find that one of the items on display is the first ATM in the country, which arrived in…1997.

Determined to take advantage of “big city” amenities while Nathaniel is at the conference, I don’t venture out of the swanky Oyster Bay suburb where the conference hotel is located on the first day. Browsing air-conditioned bookstore, check. First haircut since August, check. Viewing of many souvenirs, all of which I want, check. I manage to restrain myself from buying except for two lengths of chitenje cloth – “congrats Obama” in bright yellow, and “remember Michael Jackson” in orange and blue – prepare to fight over these when we bring them home. :)

Oyster Bay is a contradiction: glitzy hotels and fancy gated compounds with entrances onto an extremely rutted and pot holed dirt road; an upscale ocean-front restaurant overlooking a giant tire (when the tide has gone out) that has clearly been there for years; huge construction projects with DIY scaffolding made out of local logs. Infrastructure struggling to keep up with developer dollars? Local image and customs competing with international demands? I’m sure it would take much longer than we have to understand the dynamics.

Today, I settle in a little. I find Nathaniel a local sim card for his phone (mine is apparently too cheap to function outside Malawi), take my first bus ride and check out downtown Dar. The guidebook promises a “love it or hate it” reaction and, while I wouldn’t go that far in either direction, I can definitely give it a strong “like.” People are friendly, distances are walkable, cleanliness and infrastructure are decent and there are a lot of trees. Otherwise it just seems like a mid-size city. A final verdict can probably be given once I’ve visited the main market tomorrow or Thursday.