Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

I apologize for the delayed update. It was a hectic week with school and I didn’t have much motivation for putting this up. Plenty to share though, so I thought I better get to it. I also apologize for the length of this entry... I know it's super long but I didn't want to leave out details. I hope you'll take the time to read it at some point... if not I guess you can wait until I get back to tell you all about it.

For what little plans we made before leaving for the trip, almost none of them went right. They all worked out in the end, but it was the middle that was frustrating. First of all, the train we were supposed to be taking to Johannesburg didn’t happen because apparently no trains were leaving from Durban anymore. So we, along with a few hundred other people, waited in a very long line to get put on some busses (not nice coach busses…) that were going to take us somewhere. We weren’t sure exactly, but after about an hour on the bus—where we were party to hearing an old man scream out a large prayer and preaching session, followed by half the bus standing up and dancing and singing along with the old man—the bus pulled up to a train station in Pietermaritzburg. As we waited with the masses to get through the gate and get on the train, we noticed that a lot of people were throwing their bags over the large fence. This didn’t make much sense to us… we wanted to keep our things with us. People started to get impatient and started rushing towards the fence although the gate remained closed. Suddenly, we saw the gate start shaking furiously and soon it was hoisted into the air and thrown onto the ground on the other side of the barrier. Everyone started pushing and shoving towards the gap in the fence; we followed, though I almost tripped on the fallen gate. It was a pretty scary experience all-together, as we followed the crowd down some stairs into a dark, narrow hallway, then had to go back up some more stairs. Several people tripped and one lost her flip flop. Eventually all was well and we managed to get 14 seats near eachother on the train. The train experience wasn’t nearly as exciting as I’d hoped, as the train was quite bumpy and loud once we finally got going. It also stopped frequently to pick up more people… by 4 am the aisle was filled with standing people. We finally arrived in Johannesburg at about 9 am.

From the bus station we decided to head to the airport. Upon leaving the bus station we were immediately yelled at by at least four different people, saying that it was unsafe for us to be out in the city center like that and that if we continued we wouldn’t make it to the airport with any of our luggage. We found some taxis, but were a little nervous about them too. As we were driving, the cab I was in stopped and got out of the car at a stoplight in downtown, to go talk to the other cab driver. He later pulled over on the highway. We were all sure they were going to steal our stuff or do something. But we made it to the airport without incidence, so maybe we were just being paranoid. Unfortunately, we had to spend the entire day in the airport… and what’s worse is that we had to wait for about five hours outside of the terminal because we couldn’t check in that early. When it finally was time to check in, we went down to the counter and were told our flight had been delayed. Eventually we passed through security and were on our plane to Lusaka.

More unpleasant surprises awaited us at the Lusaka airport… as we found out how Zambia does visas. The group of people that I was traveling with had all prearranged visas through the hostel we were staying at. The other 10 people we had flown in with, however, had intended on buying their visa at the airport. The problem was that the visa price was $100 instead of the $30 they’d been expecting, and immigration wouldn’t accept payment in South African Rand… and there were no ATMs in or near the airport. The officials at the airport began to threaten to deport all of them, saying they’d have to spend the night in cells and fly back to South Africa in the morning. With the help of the driver who was to be taking us to our hostel, and some friendly airport police officers, we were able to arrange it so that they could come with us that night, and return in the morning with money to pay for the visas. I was just happy it wasn’t me—we only had to pay $10 each and there was no worry of spending the night in jail.

The next morning we all split up, as they tried to take care of their visas and headed off to Livingstone. Raj, Kelly, Gideon and I were sticking around Lusaka before heading to Malawi. As we explored the city, which really didn’t entail much besides walking along the side of the roads, we came across the bus station. We were initially disappointed because there was only one company that went to Malawi and its schedule didn’t match our travel plans. We found out that there was another area where we could catch combi’s (mini busses) and a few other random busses. We found one that was leaving at 3 pm that day that would get us in around 9:30 pm, and decided that it was worth it to miss our second night in Lusaka in order to make sure we could get to Malawi and the falls. Unfortunately for us, in Africa schedules don’t really mean much. We were at the bus an hour ahead of departure time, as we were told to be, but found that we sat on the bus for three or four hours before we were told that this bus wouldn’t be leaving and that we’d be taking a combi instead. We piled into that and finally left around 7:30. The ride took much longer than expected, and around midnight we stopped in a little town called Luangwe to fix a flat tire and have a little break. We got back on the road and drove for what felt like forever… finally arriving in Chipata (which is still in Zambia, but close to the Malawian border) at 9:30 am. We then had to hop a cab to the border… but our cab got stopped at a police check on the road, and we were told the cops were going to impound the car for not being painted blue (as all cabs are supposed to be, apparently). This problem was eradicated by the cab driver forfeiting our fares to the police. The border was an interesting experience because there were people on each side offering to exchange money for you. I was skeptical at first, but after we did some math of our own decided that we needed Malawian Kwache and they were giving a fair price. Once in Malawi we had to catch another cab to a nearby town of Manje or something like that, where we were able to catch another combi that was leaving for Lilongwe. It was such a relief to finally get to Lilongwe… to walk around and not be shut up in a vehicle. It took us a little while to find a place to stay, but we ended up staying at a place called “Budget hotel” where we were able to have private double rooms for $12 per person. We walked around the city, which I really enjoyed. Everyone in Malawi was very friendly—even the people who weren’t trying to sell you anything. There were a lot of neat crafts and woodworkings, and if I had had more cash on me I probably would have bought some of them. There are these tables here that come in two parts, a carved circular part that serves as the face of the table and then the legs are three pieces of wood that are all connected, but they fold up. The carving is all intricately done and I would love to get one, but the logistics of getting it home sounds much more complicated. We’ll see though, if I can find one near here I’ll probably get it. The city was pretty nice, much cleaner than I’d expected and there was a beautiful Mosque in the middle of it, though we didn’t get close enough to see the whole thing. Unfortunately we were told it wasn’t safe to walk at night so we had to stick near our hotel for dinner, but there were some neat places in the center of the city that looked like they’d be a lot of fun at night.

The next morning we walked back through town to the bus station to find a combi going to Lake Malawi. Our decided destination was Senga Bay… and I’m very happy about that decision. We easily found a combi and in a matter of 3 hours or so we were in Salima. We were told the only way to get to Senga Bay from there was in the back of a pickup truck… so we went. That was an interesting experience as well, as the bed of the truck filled up with about 25 people. This is a common means of transportation in Africa, and I’ve shook my head while watching this type of truck passing in the past… I still can’t really believe we did that. It was about a 30 minute drive, and on the way a guy from the village we were going to introduced himself and was talking to us about places to stay and things to do. He offered to show us the hotels and help us get settled in. Although initially skeptical, as I tend to be anywhere new here, he ended up carrying some of our bags and showed us 3 different places. We ended up picking Nyamachoma Lodge, where we were able to get double private rooms with their own bathrooms for $11 a night per person. The guy who’d helped us find it, Kenny, walked us to the Lake (about 100 meters away) where we saw a quaint little fishing village and an enormous lake. I might have said it was an ocean if I’d been looking at it unknowingly. Walking through the village, Kenny got us some sugar cane (a common treat around there… you saw all sorts of kids and even adults carrying the cane and tearing at it with their teeth) and we all dug in. I had troubles eating it… it hurt my teeth, but eventually I got it started enough to where I was able to tear off the outer casing and suck on the cane inside, which was dripping with a delicious sugary liquid. He brought us to a restaurant where we were able to get a traditional meal—which would have seemed much more unique if we hadn’t already been eating it for 2 days. Most small restaurants (not parts of chains) in those areas serve Nsima with meat, beans, or vegetables. Nsima is essentially maize meal (corn meal) that’s served very hot with some other substance, and you roll the Nsima up in your hands, and grab some of the other substance with it, and eat it that way. It’s quite a messy meal… fun at first but it got old fast.

Later that night, Kenny took it upon himself to show us what nightlife was like in the village. We went to a few “backyard bars”, where people allowed others into their yard (which usually consisted of the dirt/sand that was everywhere else, but with benches and some kind of roof built over it) and sold this beer that’s main ingredient was maize meal and was packaged in cartons like milk along with shots of an alcohol called Cane. I tried some of the maize meal beer, it was disgusting. I didn’t have any shots of Cane, but Gideon had a few even though he said they were terrible. At one of the “backyard bars” we actually saw the big kettles where they make the Cane… and the next day Kenny brought us back when they were brewing it to show us how it was done. After we finished with those, we went to some of the real bars, I think three or four different ones. It was amazing to see how many people were out, and almost all of them were men. For much of this trip I was wondering where the women were. After also having seen the nightclub of the village, we decided it was time to figure out plans for the next day and get to bed.

The next day was probably my favorite day of the trip… possibly of my time here in Africa so far. In the morning we went on a tour of the village with Kenny, which included a breakfast from the market. We bought eggs from one vendor, and went to the vendor selling “chips” (fresh French fries) and had them fry the eggs for us and got some fresh chips to go with it. It was deliciously unhealthy, washed down with a Coke (which I’ve started drinking out of necessity when there’s been no other options). After breakfast we went to Kenny’s house for him to pick up some things, and continued through some of the other residential areas of the village. Everywhere we went, the kids would scream “Hi”, “Hello” and “How are you?” with a few also saying things like “Give us money?” but all with very friendly tones of voices. Replying once wasn’t enough… if they said “Hi” five times they expected you to respond just as enthusiastically. It’s also assumed that the thumbs up is popular with Americans, because the kids and even adults did that to us everywhere as well. Kenny was able to point out the Chief’s house and the women of his family were outside. Kenny explained the necessity of greeting the women because it’s a sign of respect of the Chief. We walked up this huge hill scattered with corn plans and houses, and the view from the top was amazing. Partially it looked like a rainforest or jungle because there were large trees and everything was just so green, but moreso it just looked like a village in the middle of the wilderness. I loved that view. At the top we visited a little hut that served as a workshop for an ebony carver, it was really cool to watch him work. We spent some more time in the area of the village near the Lake, where we played with all of the kids who rushed us as soon as we got there. We played games of making faces at eachother and other things that were nonverbal because most of them couldn’t speak English beyond the initial greetings. They also really liked having their pictures taken and being able to look at it on the camera screen.

Finally our motor arrived (a man had to fetch it from another village… and carried it on his back down to the boat) and we were able to set out on our main trip of the day. After trudging through the almost waist high water and climbing into the boat (in my jeans) we were able to set off for Lizard Island where we’d be spending most of the day. The lake was gorgeous and fairly calm, the short ride out was quite enjoyable. Once we got there one of Kenny’s friends said he’d show us around the island. We climbed up a lighthouse and the view from the top was incredible. I would have stayed up there half the day if I could have. We continued walking through the lush, green vegetation and I just couldn’t believe I was in Africa. It seemed something more suited for Central or South America. We got to an area referred to as “flat rocks” and decided to hang out there while Kenny was making our lunch. It was a beautiful day with the sun shining and it felt good just to lay out on the warm rocks. We didn’t really remember how to get back to the other side of the island, but made an adventure out of it as we jumped across the big rocks and avoided tripping over the roots and vines that covered the ground. We got back as Kenny was finishing up lunch… so the other three in my group decided to go swimming. There were tons of fish right off the shore, and because I’m such a baby I didn’t want to go swimming with the fish. It was entertaining to watch though, because some of the fish looked tropical, being bright blue or yellow and traveling in schools. Lunch was simple… Kenny made Chomba fish (which is a kind of fish only found in Lake Malawi, though they’ve unsuccessfully tried to introduce it in other places) and rice for the other three, and made rice and this peanut soup with potatoes for me since I don’t eat fish. It was delicious! After chilling for a little longer, and another swim for everyone else, we had to head in. The boat went all the way around the island so we could see the whole thing… again, breathtaking. We had a low key evening near the hotel in anticipation of all the upcoming travel. We spent it sitting around the outdoor hotel bar and chatting with some of the locals we’d met throughout our stay there. Two of them began talking with us about how we were planning on getting to Livingstone (we were having some worries about not having enough time to make it there). After much bargaining and deliberation amongst ourself, we decided to take them up on their offer of driving us from Senga Bay (in Eastern Malawi) all the way to Livingstone (in South West Zambia) for $75 each. I was skeptical because Kenny had warned us that the man making the offer was a bit of a drunk… but he was another tour guide so we thought it might have simply been some competition sparking the comment.

We left bright and early around 5 am the next morning, with Kelly and I in the cab, and the guys and three locals in the bed of the truck. We had originally agreed that we would pay when we arrived there, but they needed some money for gas so we paid small amounts as he frequently stopped for gas. I thought it was a bit peculiar that he never filled up beyond ¼ tank, but tried not to overanalyze it. When we reached Lilongwe they said they needed about half of the money because the driver needed to pay his boss and give money to his wife. We were all a bit hesitant, but decided that we didn’t have much choice and that now that we’d reached there they’d probably want to fill up on gas before leaving Malawi etc. Another hour down the road, we were stopped at a police check, where the driver’s license was taken by the cops. Oddly enough, he continued on down the road, telling Kelly and I that everything was fine. When we asked if he’d be able to cross the border without his license he said no and that we’d need to talk about that. Shortly thereafter he pulled the car over and the guys in the back started getting into an intense conversation. Basically the local guys said they’d only be able to take us to the border now because they couldn’t get through without the license and because the police in Zambia probably wouldn’t let them continue with so many people in the back of the truck. These were all things that Gideon specifically, but also that rest of us, had inquired about the night before when we saw the transportation they were arranging was a pick-up truck. He had assured us that everything would be fine. They said that since they had gotten us “most of the way there” (maybe 1/3 of the way, in all actuality) that it was close enough and that they’d just have to go home now. Our boys were arguing quite heartily, saying that there was no way we were leaving without getting a lot of our money back. It became apparent that they had been scamming us all along and had never intended on taking us when we were talking about how much it would actually cost them to get back from where we were (about 1/5 of what we were supposed to pay them in total) and doing the math there’s no way the price they’d given us would have even covered there trip all the way there and back, let alone offer them a profit. After a bunch of haggling and a conversation about involving the police who had taken the driver’s license, the driver finally went back to get his license (I was confused as to why he hadn’t bargained for it when he was stopped originally), had to pay a bribe, and they drove us to the border and gave us some money back. We each lost about $35 on the deal… much more than we would have paid for the combis we had taken to get there, and it didn’t save us any time.

After a cab ride we were back in Chipata, where we were ecstatic to find out that there was a bus leaving that afternoon for Lusaka. We though we’d be able to make it to Livingstone after all. Disappointment struck once again when we found out that there would be no bus leaving that afternoon and that we’d have to wait for the 4 am bus the next morning. We found a cheap place to stay… and proceeded to make it cheaper because the boys decided it would be worth it to just get 1 room for the 4 of us, so we split a $7 room 4 ways. Though none of us really wanted to be there, we made the most of our night in Chipata with a walk into town… where we were the only white people. We also had a nice dinner of Nsima at a lively place with a pool table. What was interesting about Malawi and Zambia is that everywhere we went, the guys got much more attention than Kelly or I did (in contrast to Mozambique, for example, where I couldn’t get guys to stop talking to me). Another interesting fact that I forgot to mention is that in Malawi, when men are talking to eachother they often hold hands for the duration of their conversation… interesting at first but after seeing it a few times it seems to extend their friendliness and makes sense.

The next day was our best day, travel wise. Our 4 am bus left by 5 and we were into Lusaka by 1 pm. Amazingly enough we found a nice bus leaving for Livingstone that afternoon… and it actually left that afternoon!. We were into Livingstone by 9:30 and already had reservations at a backpackers there, so things went smoothly. For our single day in Livingstone we decided to spend it at Victoria Falls… which was why we were there in the first place. At the park that you enter to see the falls, there were tons of large monkeys (possibly baboons) running around and there was also a large market area with very persistent salesmen. You could hear the falls from the parking lot, and I was really excited to see them. They were amazingly powerful, but no place that we were ever gave us a great view of the whole thing… it was just too big. As we started walking along the path we came to a point where they were renting out rain coats and umbrellas etc. saying you’d get very wet. We (excluding Gideon) decided to get rain coats and a camera bag. I was so happy I had it, at first, because about 20 ft beyond where they were renting them, it felt like a downpour. A lot of times you couldn’t even see the falls because all you saw was a white cloud of water particles. Every once in a while they would clear and you could see the water flowing down amazingly fast. I was disappointed when it became obvious that my rain coat wasn’t going to do much… I felt my clothes becoming soaked beneath it, but I was caught up in the moment so it didn’t matter much. As we were talking, we became pretty sure that Victoria Falls is one of the world’s seven natural wonders, so it was pretty cool to be thinking of it that way while we were in front of it. We walked across this narrow bridge (I think called knife-bridge or something like that) that had water up to your ankles to continue on the path. It was a little scary because the bottom and handrails were all covered with some algae so it was pretty slippery. From the other side we were able to continue to see the falls that seemed to go on forever, but also had a view of the bridge further down the river channel. It was the bridge that we’d heard people could bungee jump off of… it was a gorgeous location for it. There were two rainbows crossing the river just under the bridge, and we saw someone jump. I had made my mind up long ago, but seeing that just reaffirmed that I was going to have to bungee that day. We continued along the falls, taking photo opportunities when we could. After we were through with the wet part we were all completely soaking and decided to take some time to sit in the sun and dry out. We walked up to the top of the falls, and it was a neat view from the top too… seeing how fast the current was going and watching the water drop off into a cloud of mist. Once everyone else was dried off (I remained pretty wet because I had jeans on, again) we decided to take a walk through the market, where I was approached because of the hair band on my arm. One of the vendors said he wanted it for his sister, and said he’d give me a discount on something if I gave it to him. At first I thought he meant I’d be able to get something for the hair thing, which didn’t end up being the case. I feel like I got a pretty good deal on what I did buy… but we all decided afterwards that it was just a ploy to get you to buy stuff and that they could easily get a hair band (or socks, which they bartered with Gideon for).

Once we were finally able to shake the vendors at the market (again there was tons of stuff I thought looked really cool, but I didn’t have much money on me) we made our way for the bridge. The bridge is technically in no-man’s land… we had to leave Zambia through customs and if we had gone all the way to the other end of the bridge we would have been entering Zimbabwe. We went up to register for bungeeing, originally thinking that Kelly would go with Raj and that Gideon and I would go together, if he got up the guts to go. Kelly and Raj together exceeded the weight limit, so they weren’t able to go together. Kelly and I decided to go together (it was cheaper) and neither of the guys decided to go (wimps!). I was thrilled as we were walking out onto the bridge… the river and canyon were so gorgeous, it just felt right. We got all suited up in our harnesses, then had a few minutes to watch a couple of people before us and talk with the guys. Gideon was really freaked out and just went and sat by himself, but the rest of us were really excited about it. When it was our turn, we had to go out onto the little cage thingy and they attached our harnesses to some security thing. Everytime they did something they explained how it helped assure their “100% safety”, because this particular bungee venue had a 100% safety record. They were briefing us on what their procedure was for getting us ready to go, and then explaining what we should do while we jumped to make sure we didn’t spin around in a million circles and that it would be as fun as possible. While we were getting the knots tied around our ankles some guys came up and started talking about how stupid it was to bungee on Friday the 13th (funny coincidence, I know) and it got to me a little but I shook it off with a laugh. When it was time, I had Gideon video record it on my camera, and Raj took pictures with his. I didn’t get scared until we were standing right on the edge with our toes over. He had told us that it was imperative that we jumped at the same time, and I was nervous about getting our timing right. But as he yelled 5-4-3-2-1 Bungi we both bent our knees and jumped (seemingly in slow motion) at the same time and it was an amazing fall. Unlike a rollercoaster or something like that where you get that strange feeling in your stomach, it’s just this calm sense of falling. After a few seconds it got to be a little scary, trying to anticipate the pull back up… but I loved it. The view as we were bouncing up and down was amazing, we seemed to be going much slower than we really were and it seemed to last a lot longer than I know it really did. On the first bounce we went up under the bridge, on the second we were able to see everyone on the bridge, after that I just enjoyed the scenery. It got to be a little nerve-wracking again once we had pretty much stopped bouncing, but not quite, because all I could see then was the river flowing tumultuously below and I could feel the thing around my ankles tightening and in the back of my mind I was worried that it was going to slip off my feet. They send someone down to get you, and I remember thinking that he couldn’t get there fast enough. It probably didn’t help that so much blood was rushing to my head. The guy who brought us up was quite friendly, making conversation as we slowly ascended again. Once we were on solid gating, Kelly and I hugged and both felt like we’d bonded a bit… it was funny. She had been scared the entire time apparently, and although she had fun was a little freaked out for most of it. I was really disappointed when we got back up to the registration area and found out they only had the tshirts in an XXL… so I didn’t get one. I also decided against the professional version of video and digital pics, thinking that the ones the guys got would suffice.

We treated ourselves to a very nice meal that night, and ended up playing cards and having a few drinks in the bar at our hostel. It had been a great day and I was still going a little bit on the rush of adrenaline from the jump. The next morning we had a leisurely breakfast than found a bus heading back to Lusaka. When we arrived at our backpackers in Lusaka, we found that Jenia and Nora (two girls from our interstudy group, who had also gone with us to Mozambique) were staying there as well, and had actually been in Livingstone the night before. We talked with them and compared vacation stories, played some more cards, and called it an early night. We had an early morning the next day heading back to the airport and flying back through Johannesburg.

Although this is an extremely long account of the trip, I’m sure there are things I’m leaving out. It was a great time, and although we could have planned it better to allow for less traveling had we known our destinations when we booked our first plane tickets, I would do it again if I could. Me being as antsy as I am, am already trying to figure out where else I can go and when. We have a long weekend this next weekend… and I’m trying to work it out so that a few of us can go to Drakensburg to actually see the mountains since we didn’t really get to on our excursion trip. Then Gideon and I might take a weekend trip in May and I’m looking at a place in Transkei called Hogsback that was suggested to us by several travelers we’ve met. I still don’t know my exam schedule (it’s extremely frustrating that they post it so last minute) to figure out if I’ll have any time for traveling at the end of my stay. I have registered to complete my senior project this summer, so I will be keeping my original flight and returning to the U.S. on June 17. It was a tough decision and I still don’t know how I feel about it completely, but it will allow me to graduate in August which is a priority, so it’s probably for the best.

Hope all is well and I’ll try to do better about keeping this updated. Hugs to you all!