Post-PC travels (updated)...

I. Tanzania (see Jen's blog - link on right)
Our travels through TZ consisted of copious amounts of time on Lake Tanganyika ("tanga" meaning sail and "nyika" meaning wilderness), a body of water not visited by the three of us during our service. So vast, it felt like an ocean.

Departing for Mahale National Park, speed-boating out of Kilando village on the shore.

Sokwe or chimpanzees we observed in Mahale. Yes, they're real.

Jen, Maya and our friend and guide, Hussein, at a swimming hole in the Park.

Maya, the dare devil, living life on the edge at Kalambo Falls at the end of Lake Tanganyika. Transportation required to arrive at the falls: 1 lorry lifti (45 minutes), 1 bike lifti (3 hours), a lifti in a bishop's Land Cruiser (20 minutes) and a coaster ride back to Kasanga (45 minutes) - all in one day. We should write a book on liftis after this journey. Scoring liftis entails serious patience and creativity, but boy are they satisfying.

II. Malawi
Double-click on map for a closer look (http://www.jacanaent.com/Maps/Malawi1.gif)


Officially departed from Tanzania, we had just stamped our passports at Malawi Immigration and changed our beloved shilingi into kwacha. Leaving is such sweet sorrow...

I apologize, but I couldn't resist sharing this moment on my first mini-bus in Malawi: vomit. All over me and my window. The woman sitting 2 seats in front of me "spilled her milk," if you will, and I tried my hardest not to cry over it. Repulsive.

Malawi is a cozy country nestled between mountains on the East and a spectacular lake on the West, quite fittingly called Lake Malawi. Since departing our beloved Tanzania and entering through the Northern town of Karonga, we've enjoyed a forest lodge above Chitimba, not far from Livingstonia, where we toured the "Stonehouse," a museum with history on Livingstone and Malawi in general. We then bounced to a Peace Corps gathering on the lake (near Chinteche), where we camped on the beach along with about 40 other volunteers. It's bizarre yet great really how similar all of our journeys are as PCV's, no matter where we're serving. "He just ET'd, how sad...What'd you think of MSC?...Have you tried that bagel recipe in the cookbook?...Let's go get some rice and beans in the market to save money eh?..." Now wouldn't those be the same conversations overheard at any PC-TZ gathering?

A quintissential Malawian cafe. Note the milk tea and fresh scones. Mmmm. They've got Tanzania won on breakfast breads.

We were invited as honored guests by my old Camp Merrie-Woode friend, Bright Tate. Great name huh? We hadn't seen each other since 1990, yet not much has changed. I've been beaming since the moment she ran up and hugged me in her red surfing shorts and Coca-Cola t-shirt. I couldn't help remembering the old CMW adage: "Make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver and the other's gold."


After enjoying the lakeshore and overloading on too many peanut-butter sandwiches, we ventured via "hitching" as they call it here in PC-Malawi (i.e. catching any lifti, dala or truck one can find) to Bright's site on the Ntchisi Plateau. The girl lives at the gate to Ntchisi Forest, a national conservation site, where she's serving as a Forest Officer. Jealous anyone? Green with envy perhaps? Well, there's reason to be - her site is a spot dreams are made of. Bas.

*If you'd like to read/see more, this historical Ntchisi lodge sits practically nextdoor to her site: www.ntchisi.com*

Lifti #105? on the way to Ntchisi. This was one fine vehicle. Bags already strapped on the back. Tieni!

The three of us felt like we had somehow "come home" as we caught up on laundry (hand washing like the good ole days at the watering hole), made home-cooked meals over a gas stove (thanks to Bright's mom, even Velveeta cheese made an appearance), slept starting at 9 pm every night (darkness is powerful in the village!), cherished sunsets over the magnificent mountains, and laid out every night in her courtyard to talk, listen to BBC and admire the sky full of stars. Bright taught me about Scorpius. I'll remember that. She also shared her beloved forest with us on our last day where we traipsed through lush plant life, passing monstrous trees, and crossing small streams as monkeys and birds called high above. It's been the highlight of Malawi for me to date. I'm so grateful for having had a village experience, for hearing the local greetings, for acquiring more of a pulse of what real Malawi life looks, tastes and feels like, albeit brief.

"Muli bwanji?" "Tulibwino"...Chichewa is tough, but similar to Kibena in its structure. Thankfully, Bantu languages have a lot in common. Still, we Tanzania RPCV's are aching to speak Swahili, to connect on a deeper level with people, and have only found a few Swahili speakers to engage with so far. We ain't in Tanzania anymore are we?!


At last, we have found ourselves in the capital: Lilongwe. Bright guided us here from her village via small buses this morning and led us promptly to our new haven: the PC transit house. Yes, PC-Malawi is blessed enough to have houses for current volunteers to rest and cook - complete with full kitchen, refrigerator and grill for BBQ'ing in their expansive lawn. Furthermore, there are full-time staff who clean sheets and guards who ensure security. Although PCV's here have spoken poorly about "the big city," preferring Blantyre, I'm impressed with the greenery, landscaping and manageability of the place so far...not to mention the TLC!

You like my COS tattoo Mom?

Moreover, I'm ecstatic to have some days to recuperate the old body and relish in some city comforts, especially since it's been over 10 days since I've slept in a real bed. Am I getting old? (speaking of, we have a list going in my journal - a wazee competition of sorts - of all of our ailments to date) Camping on cement floors and sand isn't cutting it for my 29-year old self. My body's clearly fatigued, but my soul is still shining. It's time I listen to my body and give it some of what it wants: 3 balanced meals/day, fruit fruit fruit, solid sleep in a real bed (did I already say that?), warm showers, internet catch-up, quiet time and maybe even a run or two around the PC transit house, which is conveniently located in a sweet little neighborhood off the main roads. Thank goodness for Peace Corps. It is truly FAMILY, in all senses of the word.

Blantyre and Mt. Mulanje: We relished in some R&R with Nick and Lindsay, friends of friends living and working for an international school. They took us in and their brother James spoiled us with good cooking. I attended my first church service of the trip which was nice. We soon departed for a 2-day hike on their neighboring mountain, Mulanje, having been connected with a PCV there named Scott.
We traipsed around Mt. Mulanje (nearly 6,000 ft) with PCV Scott, our fearless fire ranger and guide. The "hut" (a loose term - very luxurious) he led us to, as well as the hike (Lichenya route), was fabulous. The fire we were forced to run through on the way down was not. :) It brought back bad memories of the fire at Crescent H Ranch when I lived out in Wyoming in 2001. Nature is awesome. We are not in control.


III. Mozambique
Tete via Blantyre: We scored a steamy lifti with a jovial Malawian truck driver on his 18 wheeler. At the border crossing, I spotted this mural depicting HIV/AIDS prevalence in Mozambique. Notice the hottest spots are near Beira due to heavy truck traffic. It's the same "transport corridor" phenomena that occurs along the Mbeya-Makambako-Mafinga road. Where truckers are passing, HIV spreads at devastating rates. The prevalence reaches as high as 26.5 here (compared to Tanzania's 8%)!
Mchoio: chill little town in NW, serving as a resting spot on our way to/from Pinha Longa. We stayed at La Fronteira, a magical haven nestled in a eucalyptus forest, surrounded by waterfalls. From the trail to La Fronteira, we met countless Zimbabweans traveling to/from their homes in search of supplies, sustenance (one 14-year old girl sat with my on the bus, tasked with buying 4 kg of rice; apparently, t's remarkably cheaper in Moz than in Zimbabwe, she said. She embarks on this shopping trip monthly for her family).

Zimbabwe - we all know - is a mess, but did you know that children aren't even attending school? Even schools have sadly come to a halt while people struggle to make ends meet. Now if that's not an indication of hitting rock bottom as a society, I don't know what is. We met a handful of Zimbabweans with impeccable English on the trail and on the roads in Mchoio. We were grateful for the enlightenment they provided us with on the reality of their situation back in "Zim."
Vilankulo: We stayed with two current PCV's in this sleepy beach town, interestingly full of NGO's. They both work for CARE International in OVC support (helping orphans and vulnerable kids) and IGA (income-generating activities). The following day, Jen and I decided to go on a boat ride to the archipelego under Rasta Eddy's wings. We assumed our boat adventure would be via dhow, but our dreams dissipated as we approached a tiny speed boat with a 15 horsepower engine (see far right). After a choppy hour of ups and downs, we reached Magaruque island and settled in to some sweet snorkeling and fresh fish lunch. It was worth it despite the inauspicious start.

Sundowners, provided by our new friends Jose and Ricky from Spain and Vancouver. They even played a little Celine Dion to create a "Titanic" moment. Estamos Juntos.


Eddy's mom and sister, preparing dinner: cocunut mixed with greens and cassava.

The next morning, after a nice jog along the beach, I went down to the girls' community well to collect water for bathing. Filling my bucket at the source brought frustration; as is the story of my Mozambique experience (aside from running into Zimbabweans who speak English), I was unable to communicate and failed to ask simple questions of my friend's neighbors, mamas, kids. Erg. Struggling up their hill in the sand, one mama offered to carry my bucket for me if I paid her 10 meticais (she wrote the number 10 in the sand to clarify), roughly 50 cents. I refused, obstinately. Sometimes it feels better to do things oneself...especially if it brings laughter.


Surfing at Tofo Beach. Who's sponsored by Quicksilver? We are.
Maya, Jit - our surfing coach - and Jen enjoying gentle Tofo beach, perfect for beginners. Jit is a current medical student in Leeds and kindly volunteered to teach us how to catch waves. After an hour of serious wipe-outs (as a concession, Maya did say my wipe-outs looked cool) and bruising, we finally stood up on our foam long boards. Briefly. Albeit brief, it felt great to learn a new sport in such an exotic location. Thank you Jit.




Being silly on our final lifti from Tofo Beach to Maputo, with a Mozambiquan and a Dutch guy, both gentlemen. We reached Christine's house at 9 pm.

We've greatly enjoyed the impressive capital of Mozambique. It feels expansive, much bigger than Dar. After using a laundy machine for the first time all trip (glorious), we ventured out to see what this city has to offer, especially in terms of art (visited the National Museum - contemporary), music and history. The fish market also provided fun. What a vibrant spot! We selected what fresh goodies we wanted - Calamari, Brownfish, Tiger prawns - and then had a restaurant grill them up with butter, lemon and cilantro. Mmmm. Being with a family has made the end of my trip all the more special.

I bus tonight to Jo'burg with Jit and friends, who serendipitously depart at the same time as my flight. It'll feel strange separating from the girls I've spent the last 6 weeks - not to mention the last 3 years in Peace Corps - with, sharing the rollercoaster that is life and travel together. Jen and Maya will continue their adventure (continue checking on their experiences via http://www.jenintanzania.blogspot.com) as a tops two-some to South Africa, Namibia and Angola. Naona wivu kidogo, but am ready to embrace friends and family at home. It has been too long! Atlanta, here I come.

My imminent return to the US of A from Johannesburg: October 19th:( Until then, I'll be savoring every last African sunset...