Traveling to Malawi

Last week was really hectic at work. I was trying to meet a bunch of deadlines and be in twenty places at once. The main reason was that I was planning a trip to Malawi to see some friends. After a week in Malawi, I have another week in southern Tanzania to meet with some maize farmers and conduct some market research.

Friday night, I stayed at work trying to tie up one last loose end and didn't wind up leaving until 6:50 (Arusha is pretty safe, but walking a few kilometers after sunset anywhere is usually not a good idea). I had also forgotten to put a maize sheller in the truck, so I had to throw that in my bag (the machine can be a bit unwieldy when walking; that's why it was designed to be carried on a bicycle). I hurried home and discovered that the first thing that I was too late for my first task. My beard and hair have become a bit unwieldy (and I have generally low standards for wieldiness, so that's saying something), but both barbers near the house had closed and we didn't have much water, so I figured I shouldn't waste it on shaving. Gotta love the unkempt look.

Jodie and I were both kinda beat, so we went into town for dinner (pizza!!!). We talked a bit about the work part of my trip, and then we were joined by our neighbor, Mic. He asked me about my ticket and everything, and I told him I figured I'd just go to the station at 7. He looked at me like I was crazy. Turns out the buses are supposed to leave before 6. Going to the bus station to make inquiries was another one of those tasks that I had to put off because of everything going on this week. Glad he set me straight.

Jodie and Mic agreed to drive me to the station at 4:40 AM so that we could be there when the ticket booth opened at 5 (no public transport at that hour). I had to stay up a bit and pack and clean my room, but I mustered three hours of sleep before my alarm went off. We drove to the bus station yesterday morning and helped me get my ticket and make sure my luggage was on the bus before it left at 6. I saw that the ticket price was 46,000 Tanzania Shillings (exchange rate is around 1330, so it was around $35). I looked in my wallet and saw that I had 36,000. Oh yeah, going to the ATM was another one of those tasks that had fallen by the wayside. Fortunately, Jodie lent me the last bit and I boarded the bus. I owe Jodie and Mic big time.

We rolled out at 6. The bus was one of the more comfortable ones that I've ridden in ages. The next thing I remember, it was 9 AM and the conductor was telling me to move, since the passenger whose seat I was sitting in had just boarded. Oops. I slid over and went back to sleep. The trip was pretty uneventful. My head was bothering me a tad, so I couldn't read, but there was plenty of scenery, so that was nice. We made a few stops along the way, but I wasn't hungry the entire time, so I subsisted on a half-liter of water and a small mango juice-box. The lady and her daughter who were sitting next to me were very nice and we wound up talking for about an hour. She was very concerned that I hadn't eaten the entire trip. I told her it was just a minor stomach bug--nothing to worry about. We hit some construction about 3/4 of the way there, which slowed us down a lot. Fortunately, the bus pushed through and at 12:20 AM (18 hours travel time, and I spent less than 1 hour off the bus), we rolled into the station in Mbeya (near the Malawi border). I grabbed the last room (phew!) at the hotel near the station and proceeded to bask in my nice bed for a reasonable rate (15,000 shillings).

Before getting some sleep (all the napping on the bus was to make up for lost sleep during the week), I decided I wanted to run to the ATM. The manager had said it was just up the hill, so I decided to check it out. The night guard seemed a tad cranky as he opened the gate to let me out. Even though I was in a completely unfamiliar town, I didn't feel unsafe as I walked through the streets (partially from taking a few precautionary measures). The ATM was just under ten minutes from the hotel, but then I saw that it wouldn't take Visa. Sigh. So I decided to look around and see if there was another bank in the area. After 10 minutes of wandering (and taking in the beauty of nighttime in the city--one of my absolute favorite things that I don't often get to see over here), I found a Barclay's ATM that said it accepted Visa. Well, after my 4th failed attempt, I decided that the sign probably didn't know what it was talking about, so I decided to go back to the hotel and see what I could figure out during daylight. I got back to the hotel and thought of the night watchman. He was still sleeping. The gate was just too tight for me to squeeze through, and there were nails on the wall to keep out would-be burglars, but I noticed that the gate was really easy to scale, so I left the watchman sleeping and stealthily made it back to my room (it's those ninja genes I inherited).

Well, I wanted to leave at 5 AM to get in at a reasonable hour. No such luck. I went back to the ATM at 8 (I originally wanted to wait until it opened before realizing the bank was closed since it was Sunday) and this time it worked! I grabbed a quick shave (much needed), packed up my room and headed back to the bus station.

I always hate walking around bus stations, because often there are 20 different people trying to guess where you're going and pulling you towards one bus or another. Yesterday was no different. Unfortunately, I also had really heavy bags, so I couldn't move very easily as well. One guy just wouldn't leave me alone. Even after he clearly led me to the wrong place (a bus going to the wrong city for twice the price), he was still attached at my hip. I finally told him I'd give him 500 shillings if he got me the right price at the correct bus (I was getting pretty sore at that point with the luggage on my back). He led me to the bus that had the correct city on it and agreed on the price of 3500 (it was printed on the bus anyway, so I could've done that part). I didn't particularly like this guy, but I felt obliged to hold up my end of the bargain. I only had two 2000 shillings notes, so I was just going to pay the conductor and give this guy the change. But the conductor had gone away, and this guy wanted to get back to his post (and I wanted him to leave me alone), so he offered to get change for one of the notes. And I never saw him again. Kinda unfortunate how people like that can kinda ruin the whole day.

I grabbed a small muffin from a nearby shop (my first food in about 35 hours), hoping that we would be on the road soon. Well, the bus took a little while to fill up (which meant a 2:1 ratio of passengers to seats), so it was pretty slow going (always a risk when traveling on a Sunday). We were further slowed by 8 police checkpoints as we drove to the border (I think, but I lost count after 5). In one comical situation, the officer told us that there were 2 people too many on the bus, so they got out and started walking. The officer inspected us a bit longer and then we drove on and picked the passengers back up half a kilometer later. We also had to change buses. We made it to the border without event and the nice gentleman next to me helped get me on a bicycle for a lift, since the bus drops off a half km from the border. I paid the cyclist 1000 shillings (twice the actual price) for the lift since my bag made me quite the burden. Walking the last 20 meters to the gate was agony. I couldn't move quickly and there were 8 money changers sticking to me like flies (and none of them giving me the correct price). I was trying to make up some of my lost time (at this point I was about 4.5 hours behind schedule), so I finally accepted the guy who was offering 8 Tanzanian shillings per kwacha (which is the correct rate). Then he gave me less than 9 Tanzanian shillings per kwacha and disappeared before I could count and realize his mistake. In his defense, I don't think this was another con, just someone who wasn't very good at math, who had run away to find other customers. There was another one who kept following me into the No Peddlers Area trying to offer me a crappier exchange rate and not listening to my insistence (in kiswahili) that I wasn't going to change any money. Finally, I explained to some truck repairmen I was passing that this guy didn't seem to understand any kiswahili and he quickly melted away.

The border was pretty painless. Everything was in english, which was a relief, but I realized that this was going to be my first time going to a country where I didn't know a word of the language. Mercifully, there was plenty of kiswahili at the border, and even more english. I got into a carpool-taxi (for lack of a better word) from the border to the first town. My heart sunk as I saw the sign saying that at was another 645 km to Lilongwe (my final destination). We made pretty good time, which was a nice change, and we were packed in like sardines, which was not so nice, but pretty typical. He dropped us off at the bus station and I found a matatu (well, they're called minibuses here) that was heading to Mzuzu (the first stop).

I lucked out and got a seat up front. In other words, I wasn't a sardine. I was always getting bumped when the driver changed gears, but in that humidity, I think I was pretty lucky all the same. Before the bus took off, I grabbed a packet of cookies and a coke (I didn't have a whole lot of options at the station). The scenery was pretty gorgeous (more to come on that later) and the driver set a really good pace. We got to Mzuzu just after 5:30, and I found the bus that was supposed to head to Lilongwe (400 more km) at 6. The bus pulled out at 6:30, went to the gas station, filled up (buses have very large gas tanks), and then took us back to the bus station where we were told that we would have to get on another bus. We shuffled onto the new bus and took off. The ride was pretty uneventful. I mostly read since it was too dark (and at times, foggy) to see the scenery. When the conductor came to look at my ticket, she greeted me in Chichewa (the main language of Malawi). I kinda botched the response, but she was really friendly and it is the best way to learn.

We rolled into Lilongwe at 1:30 AM. I didn't want to seek out a taxi, so I just slept (or at least tried to) on the bus with a few other passengers until sunrise.

Now, the Malawi adventure begins!