Thursday, June 28, 2007
Progress
I didn't get that much work done this week thanks to this stupid cold and the awful heat that made me lazy. But I did manage to make a list of all the changes and revisions to the household survey from beginning to end (organized into four rounds), type up all the notes my RAs took during group discussions, and hammer out a chunk of the methods section. I think I'm going to finish all I can do with that for now next week, and then I'll start working on some analysis. I think this dissertation won't irk me too much, which is more than I can say for my poor boyfriend, whose department seems hell bent on throwing stupid obstacles in his way.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Work starts tomorrow
Since I returned, I haven't been doing much work. Mostly I've been catching up on TV and hanging out with Joe. I did manage to visit my advisor at his new house to fill him in on the details of the actual study. He's going to try to put a panel together for ICA on how to do research in crazy settings, and I definitely have plenty to say on that!
I went in practically every day last week trying to get my expenses entered into HopkinsOne. It's the dumbest system on the planet. My travel request had been granted with my travel advnace on one trip number. Then, on a separate trip number, my flight had been reimbursed. This apparently allowed my flight to reimbursed in a timely fashion instead of when I returned from the trip. But it also had the effect of screwing things up with the travel advance, because we couldn't enter any receipts since it was like, you already got reimbursed for those dates. Basically, it allowed our office to enter in something that then totally screwed it up. It's all well and good for them to say, don't enter things that way, but it's preferable for the system to just not let you enter things that way if it's the wrong thing to do. Anyway, the higher ups had to tweak it so that we could enter receipts. We entered all the big ones, with minor hassles along the way trying to make the system not suck, and then shoved the rest into the giant per diem category. It all worked out.
So, tomorrow I start work on my dissertation and other projects. This includes a paper my advisor and I are writing using the old midterm data due July 30. And it also includes osme new potential papers for a Comm Theory call for papers on interpersonal communication and campaigns. Devepending on how much overlap there is between these manuscripts and my dissertation, I may switch to a 3-manuscript format, but I'm only inclined to do that if the pros really outweigh the cons because I can hammer out a traditional format very quickly.
Tomorrow I think I'll start putting some things into the methods section. Things like, "After the chief welcomed us to the village, someone gave a prayer."
I stil have no job, but I signed up for a bunch of federal loans in case the CDC thing doesn't happen!
I went in practically every day last week trying to get my expenses entered into HopkinsOne. It's the dumbest system on the planet. My travel request had been granted with my travel advnace on one trip number. Then, on a separate trip number, my flight had been reimbursed. This apparently allowed my flight to reimbursed in a timely fashion instead of when I returned from the trip. But it also had the effect of screwing things up with the travel advance, because we couldn't enter any receipts since it was like, you already got reimbursed for those dates. Basically, it allowed our office to enter in something that then totally screwed it up. It's all well and good for them to say, don't enter things that way, but it's preferable for the system to just not let you enter things that way if it's the wrong thing to do. Anyway, the higher ups had to tweak it so that we could enter receipts. We entered all the big ones, with minor hassles along the way trying to make the system not suck, and then shoved the rest into the giant per diem category. It all worked out.
So, tomorrow I start work on my dissertation and other projects. This includes a paper my advisor and I are writing using the old midterm data due July 30. And it also includes osme new potential papers for a Comm Theory call for papers on interpersonal communication and campaigns. Devepending on how much overlap there is between these manuscripts and my dissertation, I may switch to a 3-manuscript format, but I'm only inclined to do that if the pros really outweigh the cons because I can hammer out a traditional format very quickly.
Tomorrow I think I'll start putting some things into the methods section. Things like, "After the chief welcomed us to the village, someone gave a prayer."
I stil have no job, but I signed up for a bunch of federal loans in case the CDC thing doesn't happen!
The trip home
Monday morning (June 11), in my hotel room, I watched SportsCenter (as opposed to SpohtsCentah, the version with cricket and soccer instead of baseball and American football) and felt all nervsy about flying and about my car being impounded. Everything fit in my luggage just fine, including the buttload of pottery, so I felt happy about that. I went downstairs with my bags, paid for the last four days, and then talked to Freddie until the driver came. I gave him my SIM card, since I no longer need it; I haven’t tried calling it to see if it works.
At work I sent a couple of emails, taped up the box with my surveys, and said goodbye to folks who were around. I think the secretary was bummed to see me go; she started working there just before I arrived and she’s gotten used to going home together.
I arrived at the airport, for in line, and had no problems with my bags. I was worried that they might be over the weight restrictions, but apparently not. I went through passport control (which had no line, but was very crowded later). I blew my remaining 500 kwacha on a tiny lunch and a bottle of water, but I got to sit in the fancy lounge and read an old newspaper. I used up my 5 free minutes of SkyBand internet and read my sister’s blog. I then beat the crowd through security. They asked me how much kwacha I was leaving the country with, and I was pleased to say none.
I’ve never been so excited to leave a place in my life. I was so giddy I could feel it all the way up in my shoulders. I’ve flown out of worse places – Minneapolis/St. Paul, for example, after we had to sleep there – but that was more a feeling of weariness than actual happiness to leave. I’ve been excited to land places. But this was really about being thrilled to say adios Lilongwe!
As we flew out, I could see Mchenzi, which is where we did a lot of the field work, so that was neat. I also finally got a good look at the statehouse, which is on the edge of the city. Lunch on SAA was okay. I got the vegetarian, which was probably a mistake. It was some sort of lentil mush with weird vegetables. It was much improved with salt. I was sort of in weird missionary land on the flight… there were a lot of people who’d been in Malawi for like a week or two and it was all very Jesusy. No one asked me why I was there, so I didn’t have to reveal that I was with the heathen condom peddlers. There was a lot of dumb hick intermixed with all this as well. The woman behind me was particularly dumb. As we flew toward Jo’burg, she was describing what she saw out the window to someone, and she said she just saw “a bunch of dirt or concrete, I dunno.” Hello, of course it’s dirt! They’re farms! There are big irrigation circles and rows! You live in Hicksville, I know this can’t be unfamiliar territory. There was also a lot of confusion about converting Celsius to Fahrenheit, esp since she thought freezing was 35F. Yikes.
In Jo’burg I totally couldn’t figure out where to go. I finally located the ticket counters, but Delta wasn’t listed on the big list. I wandered around and eventually sighted it in the corner. There was no line, so I guess I was the only person crazy enough to fly Delta home. They called to get my luggage transferred and they gave me a boarding pass through to Atlanta. I got in the big ass security line and went through the completely ineffectual security. The Delta agent told me I couldn’t buy any liquids, so I didn’t get any cheap Amarula, but that turned out to be totally false because I could have put it in my checked luggage once I got to ATL since I had to recheck it anyway. They have it at Wine Source, but it’s twice as much (still delicious, though, and Joey’s new favorite beverage).
Dinner on the flight was tasty; there was only fish left, so I didn’t have to choose, which was good, and they fish was good. The wine was good too. I napped fitfully after dinner to Dakar, and the flight was incredibly bumpy. It was actually a little scary at times. I’m generally cool with turbulence during the day, but I’m not a huge fan at night or in clouds. In Dakar they didn’t rummage through the plane like they had before, so we all prepared for nothing. I wheedled a snack out of the new crew so I could take my malarone under my carefully planned regime to take them every 20 hours instead of every 24 hours until they were timed back to EDT. Something from dinner or from the weeks of crappy food made my stomach feel ooky and gassy; I’m sure the turbulence didn’t help. I slept some more after Dakar and just felt weary.
We finally entered the USA. USA! USA! I’d never been so happy to be an American at home. We landed in Atlanta, and I was one of the last people off the plane, being in the back. I hit the can and then went to the customs line, getting in the slowest one, of course. Finally I got up to the guy, feeling home free. But then the guy typed my number into the computer and picked up the radio. Aw crap. But this is easy, right? They’re just going to ask me why my passport is different from the one I left with and I’ll be on my merry way, right? A man came over and escorted me to a room full of people who were either brown and/or foreigners, which is when I knew I had landed in customs jail. There was a group of Afghani men at the desk dealing with one guy’s complicated visa issues, and there was a woman I think was Spanish who had been wandering in and out of the US for months at a time apparently on travel, with no employment. Must be nice. I sat there for about an hour getting increasingly upset about how the mugging never seems to stop hassling me and how I probably wouldn’t be able to get on the earlier flight I wanted. I was unsuccessfully holding back tears. Finally one of the immigration officers rifled through the orange folders sitting there, and I heard her say, “US Citizen,” so I knew that had to be me. She asked if I had lost my passport, I told her I got mugged, words of condolences all around, stamp stamp and I was out of there. They really need to have a line for people with easy problems. Or just take care of it at the desk. Seriously. It’s not like she did anything extra to verify my tale.
I got my bags, which were easy to find given there were only like five on the now-stopped conveyor. The Delta ticket counter was totally abandoned, leading me to recognize that I probably got lucky by waiting in customs jail because instead of waiting in huge lines I got to sit (and be upset, but still). I managed to get on the early flight for a cool $25 (really, if it were an all-domestic flight it would have been free, because the flight was way empty) charged to the grant. I rechecked my bags (everyone wanted to know what was in the box, the least interesting piece of luggage) and went through security. I called Joey to tell him I was on the earlier flight, and he was super asleep after not really sleeping well all night. He sounded cute and groggy and glad that I was getting in early. He also told me the great news that my car was not impounded, just moved down the street with $82 in tickets. How unbelievable is that? I never would have thought the city would just move my car! I could kiss whoever made that call. Apparently it’s easier to rebuy your car at auction than it is to retrieve from city impound. So I was just really excited to go home.
I had an exit row seat and dutifully read what I needed to do in case of emergency. We got to BWI, and I could hardly breathe walking out of the terminal I was so excited. It was really weird to see Joey at first – he’d just been this disembodied voice for two months – but I quickly adjusted. :) I was really glad to have my trip be over.
At work I sent a couple of emails, taped up the box with my surveys, and said goodbye to folks who were around. I think the secretary was bummed to see me go; she started working there just before I arrived and she’s gotten used to going home together.
I arrived at the airport, for in line, and had no problems with my bags. I was worried that they might be over the weight restrictions, but apparently not. I went through passport control (which had no line, but was very crowded later). I blew my remaining 500 kwacha on a tiny lunch and a bottle of water, but I got to sit in the fancy lounge and read an old newspaper. I used up my 5 free minutes of SkyBand internet and read my sister’s blog. I then beat the crowd through security. They asked me how much kwacha I was leaving the country with, and I was pleased to say none.
I’ve never been so excited to leave a place in my life. I was so giddy I could feel it all the way up in my shoulders. I’ve flown out of worse places – Minneapolis/St. Paul, for example, after we had to sleep there – but that was more a feeling of weariness than actual happiness to leave. I’ve been excited to land places. But this was really about being thrilled to say adios Lilongwe!
As we flew out, I could see Mchenzi, which is where we did a lot of the field work, so that was neat. I also finally got a good look at the statehouse, which is on the edge of the city. Lunch on SAA was okay. I got the vegetarian, which was probably a mistake. It was some sort of lentil mush with weird vegetables. It was much improved with salt. I was sort of in weird missionary land on the flight… there were a lot of people who’d been in Malawi for like a week or two and it was all very Jesusy. No one asked me why I was there, so I didn’t have to reveal that I was with the heathen condom peddlers. There was a lot of dumb hick intermixed with all this as well. The woman behind me was particularly dumb. As we flew toward Jo’burg, she was describing what she saw out the window to someone, and she said she just saw “a bunch of dirt or concrete, I dunno.” Hello, of course it’s dirt! They’re farms! There are big irrigation circles and rows! You live in Hicksville, I know this can’t be unfamiliar territory. There was also a lot of confusion about converting Celsius to Fahrenheit, esp since she thought freezing was 35F. Yikes.
In Jo’burg I totally couldn’t figure out where to go. I finally located the ticket counters, but Delta wasn’t listed on the big list. I wandered around and eventually sighted it in the corner. There was no line, so I guess I was the only person crazy enough to fly Delta home. They called to get my luggage transferred and they gave me a boarding pass through to Atlanta. I got in the big ass security line and went through the completely ineffectual security. The Delta agent told me I couldn’t buy any liquids, so I didn’t get any cheap Amarula, but that turned out to be totally false because I could have put it in my checked luggage once I got to ATL since I had to recheck it anyway. They have it at Wine Source, but it’s twice as much (still delicious, though, and Joey’s new favorite beverage).
Dinner on the flight was tasty; there was only fish left, so I didn’t have to choose, which was good, and they fish was good. The wine was good too. I napped fitfully after dinner to Dakar, and the flight was incredibly bumpy. It was actually a little scary at times. I’m generally cool with turbulence during the day, but I’m not a huge fan at night or in clouds. In Dakar they didn’t rummage through the plane like they had before, so we all prepared for nothing. I wheedled a snack out of the new crew so I could take my malarone under my carefully planned regime to take them every 20 hours instead of every 24 hours until they were timed back to EDT. Something from dinner or from the weeks of crappy food made my stomach feel ooky and gassy; I’m sure the turbulence didn’t help. I slept some more after Dakar and just felt weary.
We finally entered the USA. USA! USA! I’d never been so happy to be an American at home. We landed in Atlanta, and I was one of the last people off the plane, being in the back. I hit the can and then went to the customs line, getting in the slowest one, of course. Finally I got up to the guy, feeling home free. But then the guy typed my number into the computer and picked up the radio. Aw crap. But this is easy, right? They’re just going to ask me why my passport is different from the one I left with and I’ll be on my merry way, right? A man came over and escorted me to a room full of people who were either brown and/or foreigners, which is when I knew I had landed in customs jail. There was a group of Afghani men at the desk dealing with one guy’s complicated visa issues, and there was a woman I think was Spanish who had been wandering in and out of the US for months at a time apparently on travel, with no employment. Must be nice. I sat there for about an hour getting increasingly upset about how the mugging never seems to stop hassling me and how I probably wouldn’t be able to get on the earlier flight I wanted. I was unsuccessfully holding back tears. Finally one of the immigration officers rifled through the orange folders sitting there, and I heard her say, “US Citizen,” so I knew that had to be me. She asked if I had lost my passport, I told her I got mugged, words of condolences all around, stamp stamp and I was out of there. They really need to have a line for people with easy problems. Or just take care of it at the desk. Seriously. It’s not like she did anything extra to verify my tale.
I got my bags, which were easy to find given there were only like five on the now-stopped conveyor. The Delta ticket counter was totally abandoned, leading me to recognize that I probably got lucky by waiting in customs jail because instead of waiting in huge lines I got to sit (and be upset, but still). I managed to get on the early flight for a cool $25 (really, if it were an all-domestic flight it would have been free, because the flight was way empty) charged to the grant. I rechecked my bags (everyone wanted to know what was in the box, the least interesting piece of luggage) and went through security. I called Joey to tell him I was on the earlier flight, and he was super asleep after not really sleeping well all night. He sounded cute and groggy and glad that I was getting in early. He also told me the great news that my car was not impounded, just moved down the street with $82 in tickets. How unbelievable is that? I never would have thought the city would just move my car! I could kiss whoever made that call. Apparently it’s easier to rebuy your car at auction than it is to retrieve from city impound. So I was just really excited to go home.
I had an exit row seat and dutifully read what I needed to do in case of emergency. We got to BWI, and I could hardly breathe walking out of the terminal I was so excited. It was really weird to see Joey at first – he’d just been this disembodied voice for two months – but I quickly adjusted. :) I was really glad to have my trip be over.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
I'm back
When I get the chance I'll update on my return flight and the nightmare of getting my expenses into Hopkins One.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
On the other side
I feel like I need a complete life detox after being here. The schedule I’ve been keeping certainly gives me more energy, but I don’t think I can keep it up at home. It’s easy to get up at 6:30 when you go to bed at 9:30 or 10 out of total boredom. It’s not so easy when there are fun things to do and people to see at night. But I’ll be very glad to get back to a place where I can actually exercise – between getting mugged and this town being full of annoying people trying to sell me crap, I haven’t been walking as much as I thought I would when I arrived. And my diet has just been awful. Breakfast is always chips, an egg of some kind (often fried), sausage, and bread. Occasionally fruit. And it’s hard to eat healthy foods without a refrigerator and an oven/stove and without consistent means of getting to the supermarket. I’ve been watching Chef at Home and thinking of all the fruits and vegetables and other healthy foods I desperately want to eat.
So, I’m determined to actually go to the Farmer’s Market this summer and to eat well and exercise. And I want to do lots of things outside this summer and get out of the house and not be cooped up with the television. I also want to get to the office and be productive, because I want to get this dissertation hammered out along with whatever I do for work and the eventual jobhunting and conference abstracts and suchlike.
I’ve been fussing a bit about work for the summer and money. I’m waiting to hear from a few people about small amounts of work, which would be fine. I really want to visit Boston and ABQ, but I need to make sure I have the cash for these things (and that any accompanying passengers do too). I will hear about the CDC grant in late summer, probably. I’m extremely ambivalent about the grant. I’ll be thrilled to have a stipend and to be able to say I got it on my resume. But I don’t really want to come back here in the fall; I might be able to deal with spring, but even that makes me feel a little queasy. I try to put on a good face for people who ask when I’m coming back. I wouldn’t mind a two-week trip, but another two-month trip sounds just awful. I’ve also lost some enthusiasm for the idea of doing in-depth interviews about the radio program. I’m not sure we’ll really get the depth of information we’re interested in. And if we don’t have good results from the experimental design there’s really less justification anyway for expending more energy in this direction.
My travels here have solidified my feelings that I’m not really interested in a straight-up communication position. Comm is okay and all, but I really want to stick with public health and be able to see comm. as one tool out of many to improve health. I’ve seen so many huge systemic problems at work here that I can’t possibly pretend developing some radio programs is going to satisfy me entirely.
So, I’m determined to actually go to the Farmer’s Market this summer and to eat well and exercise. And I want to do lots of things outside this summer and get out of the house and not be cooped up with the television. I also want to get to the office and be productive, because I want to get this dissertation hammered out along with whatever I do for work and the eventual jobhunting and conference abstracts and suchlike.
I’ve been fussing a bit about work for the summer and money. I’m waiting to hear from a few people about small amounts of work, which would be fine. I really want to visit Boston and ABQ, but I need to make sure I have the cash for these things (and that any accompanying passengers do too). I will hear about the CDC grant in late summer, probably. I’m extremely ambivalent about the grant. I’ll be thrilled to have a stipend and to be able to say I got it on my resume. But I don’t really want to come back here in the fall; I might be able to deal with spring, but even that makes me feel a little queasy. I try to put on a good face for people who ask when I’m coming back. I wouldn’t mind a two-week trip, but another two-month trip sounds just awful. I’ve also lost some enthusiasm for the idea of doing in-depth interviews about the radio program. I’m not sure we’ll really get the depth of information we’re interested in. And if we don’t have good results from the experimental design there’s really less justification anyway for expending more energy in this direction.
My travels here have solidified my feelings that I’m not really interested in a straight-up communication position. Comm is okay and all, but I really want to stick with public health and be able to see comm. as one tool out of many to improve health. I’ve seen so many huge systemic problems at work here that I can’t possibly pretend developing some radio programs is going to satisfy me entirely.
Final days
As noted earlier, after a week away I had tons of email when I returned to work Friday. I had the whole day to get through it, so that was good. G took me out to lunch, which was nice of her.
Yesterday I went with Ben and the girls to Dedza Pottery. They’re bored with K out of town, and their plans for a school event were cancelled because the first lady’s funeral was yesterday. So we went down in the afternoon. Dedza is surrounded by wonderful granite mountains, making it vastly more scenic than Lilongwe. The pottery shop has lovely grounds, landscaped with grass, rosebushes and other plants and flowers. The restaurant there opens out onto a large patio with tiled tables featuring scenes from the beach. The food was tasty – I had moussaka and fresh lemonade. But we were too full for the famous cheesecake, sadly.
After lunch we hit the pottery shop, which was loaded with various pots and mugs and such in different styles. It wouldn’t be an easy place to pick up something specific – you can make orders for those – but it’s perfect for someone like me seeking to pick up an assortment of things. And it was crazy cheap. There was only one thing I got that may have been even remotely comparable to a US price and everything else was vastly cheaper. So I took care of gifts for a while and got rid of most of my kwacha. I was pleased too that I could avoid buying any wooden curios because there are already too few trees in Malawi due to overcutting, and the pottery shop has environmentally friendly practices according to their website. So I was pleased with Dedza and everything looks like it will fit securely in my bags.
Today I’m here at the Capital Hotel, uploading these posts before I take off, and getting another haircut so I will be super cute for my return. Tomorrow I’ll go to work briefly to get my box of papers and say goodbye to everyone. Then I go to the airport! I can’t believe this day has arrived!
Uh, it seems my car might be in impound. :( I sure hope I don't have to pay a million dollars to get it out.
Flying home will be more brutal than flying here was. I got to stop after each flight and shower and sleep on the way here, but this is just one plane after another. I also was fortunate not to have a seatmate on the long flight to Jo’burg, but I doubt I’ll be so lucky on the return. I still don’t know when exactly I will arrive in Baltimore; I’m scheduled for a late afternoon flight, but I’m hoping to get on one of the two earlier flights before that. I could be in as early as 12:30, which would be great. But it might be more like 4:30. Boo.
Yesterday I went with Ben and the girls to Dedza Pottery. They’re bored with K out of town, and their plans for a school event were cancelled because the first lady’s funeral was yesterday. So we went down in the afternoon. Dedza is surrounded by wonderful granite mountains, making it vastly more scenic than Lilongwe. The pottery shop has lovely grounds, landscaped with grass, rosebushes and other plants and flowers. The restaurant there opens out onto a large patio with tiled tables featuring scenes from the beach. The food was tasty – I had moussaka and fresh lemonade. But we were too full for the famous cheesecake, sadly.
After lunch we hit the pottery shop, which was loaded with various pots and mugs and such in different styles. It wouldn’t be an easy place to pick up something specific – you can make orders for those – but it’s perfect for someone like me seeking to pick up an assortment of things. And it was crazy cheap. There was only one thing I got that may have been even remotely comparable to a US price and everything else was vastly cheaper. So I took care of gifts for a while and got rid of most of my kwacha. I was pleased too that I could avoid buying any wooden curios because there are already too few trees in Malawi due to overcutting, and the pottery shop has environmentally friendly practices according to their website. So I was pleased with Dedza and everything looks like it will fit securely in my bags.
Today I’m here at the Capital Hotel, uploading these posts before I take off, and getting another haircut so I will be super cute for my return. Tomorrow I’ll go to work briefly to get my box of papers and say goodbye to everyone. Then I go to the airport! I can’t believe this day has arrived!
Uh, it seems my car might be in impound. :( I sure hope I don't have to pay a million dollars to get it out.
Flying home will be more brutal than flying here was. I got to stop after each flight and shower and sleep on the way here, but this is just one plane after another. I also was fortunate not to have a seatmate on the long flight to Jo’burg, but I doubt I’ll be so lucky on the return. I still don’t know when exactly I will arrive in Baltimore; I’m scheduled for a late afternoon flight, but I’m hoping to get on one of the two earlier flights before that. I could be in as early as 12:30, which would be great. But it might be more like 4:30. Boo.
Zambia!
Monday morning I was the first to arrive at Kiboko. I had planned to go to the grocery store, but of course it wasn’t open, so I went off later while waiting around to get some breakfast and bug spray. I was surprised they actually had some bug spray there and that it was a decent price. I was joined by a mother and daughter from Iceland, a trio of medical students from Holland taking vacation time before going to work in Mangochi (I’d had this weird feeling the day before that I would be stuck in a car full of Dutch speakers), and a carload of Canadians. One of the Canadians re-enacted that SNL skit about the people with unpronounceable names with the woman from Iceland, whose name I think was something like Hroen, but with more funky things over the vowels identifying exactly what kind of sneezing sound to make. We had to wait for Kiboko to swap out one of the cars because it was leaking oil; we ended up with a smaller car with less nice seats. Holland and I were the only ones in there so we all had window seats, except when the moving seat that opened to the back wouldn’t go down properly and then one of the girls had to sit in the middle seat next to me for all the most horribly bumpy parts of the drive.
Best road sighting from Lilongwe to Mchinji: Chibuku Hangover Bar!
I had never gone in the Mchinji direction before; it’s flat but nice and gets hilly toward the border. At the gas station in Mchinji we were greeted by demanding street urchins who wanted alternately some of our cookies and money and who hadn’t really learned to say please or to be polite in any way. I eventually scolded them and told them to go to school and had to do the same on the return also.
We soon reached the border, which was stupid. Instead of having one building representing the border, there is a Malawi building and a Zambia building. You exit Malawi first, filling out an exit card and getting a passport stamp. Then you pile back into the car, drive 50 feet to the Zambia building, and enter Zambia, filling out an entry card and book with the exact same information and getting a visa stamp. On the way back we actually figured out that the people who finish first could just walk over to the other building to speed up the whole process. Anyway, all the passports and Visa waivers were easy and fine, but at the Zambia office, they said they didn’t have a record for whatever tax the vehicles require. The drivers had receipts showing the payments, but the officials seemed to want to delay us as much as possible to see if they might be able to get additional payment. Hilariously, on the exit side of the building we saw this great poster that was all, it’s a crime to give money to immigration officials! Don’t do it! It’s like, don’t bribe us, but occasionally, we might ask to test you and see if you’re a criminal. Whatever. Finally they let us go.
We had lunch at Chipata, and then we drove seemingly forever. Much of the road past Chipata is dirt, and the last leg toward Mfuwe is not so great. Once in Mfuwe it’s paved to the campground turnoff, and then it’s insanely bumpy due to last year’s floods.
We arrived at Track and Trails River Camp, which is right on the river. While hippos made crazy noises in the background, a very cute Dutch boy explained that Kiboko rents the campground space from them and has an agreement that we can use the facilities, which included a quite nice bathroom area (with occasional visitors like giant spiders and frogs in the toilet); a lovely pool with gorgeous wood steps up to it, a nice deck full of chairs and sunning pads, and a stunning view of the river; and a really nice bar and restaurant with attractive Dutch people serving up the drinks. The tents were awesome: huge walk-in tents with twin beds, a night stand, a canvas shelf thing and an electric lantern. They also gave us towels, although they were quite small. But quite nice accommodations for camping. The camp also has chalets, for those who like to stay in buildings who have more money.
We had dinner in the dark, as the power decided to go out for only the duration of our eating. We had tomato soup, spghetti with meat sauce (marinara for the vegetarians), salad, and bananas. The stars were lovely, and I saw the Big Dipper! I didn’t think it was visible from the southern hemisphere. After dinner most of us went straight to bed, given the 5 am wakeup call, and I slept okay until the hippos really started making a lot of motor-starting noises toward morning. I guess there was also an elephant in the camp sometime overnight. Later in the season I guess there are lots of animals, since the river gets so low and the animals all want to be closer to it.
Tuesday morning the wakeup call was a timid, “Hello?” waking only those of us who were already half awake. I took an unpleasantly cold shower which fortunately was not repeated as the hot water decided to work the other days. For “breakfast” we had tea/coffee with bread and butter/jam/peanut butter. At least they could have gotten the bread from Foodworth’s if that was all they planned to feed us that early in the morning. I had tea and coffee both, which was a huge mistake, as I had to pee all morning. During the break in the ride, I also opted for coffee, which meant that when we returned from the drive we had to stop at the main gate so I could pee. In the latrine. Which was an outhouse with a concrete floor featuring a hole. Yuck. But I had to pee that bad. I had to pee again after the short remaining drive to camp I was so full of pee. There was no way I could have made it over the crazy bumpy road with my bladder the way it was.
Uh, anyway, we went on our first game drive. It was awesome. The weather was lovely and it was only hot at the end. We saw a warthog, several herds of zebras, tons of yellow baboons, waterbacks, impalas and puku, plenty of elephants, a monitor lizard, a fish eagle and several other birds, a funky squirrel (I had thought about asking the driver earlier if there were squirrels, as a joke), a cape buffalo, crocodiles, hippos in the water and on the beach, and two giraffes! The giraffes were most awesome. The first was a female eating off a big ol tree, and the second was a male covered in tiny birds that ate ticks off of him. He wandered onto the road and we followed him for several minutes, like a giraffe parade. He just lumbered along very gracefully, completely unconcerned about us being behind him. He eventually got off the road and pooped. You’d think it’d be like horse poop, but it’s actually a lot more like rabbit poop.
The time between drives was mostly all about lunch, chilling in the pool, and relaxing at the bar. The managers of the camp were being filmed by a Dutch television crew for a show about people who leave Holland for random places like Zambia, so I’ll probably be on Dutch TV sometime next year in the background of some shot.
The night drive was okay. I had sat shotgun in the morning, which is lower and more stable than the actual safari seats. I felt like I was going to get bumped out of the car every time we hit bad road. It’s much harder on the ass, and a bit colder. The weather was mostly lovely, until the end, which was cold. We saw a leopard (after a bit of not-quite-kosher offroading), a hyena on the bridge coming back from town, a pregnant zebra, and two porcupines! Apparently porcupines are a rare sight, so that was cool. They are crazy looking. The night drive is light out for the first half but then it gets dark and a guy (in my shotgun seat) beams a huge spotlight to find animals that only come out at night. It’s not as good as the day drive because you don’t have a full field of vision and you can’t have the whole group looking for things. You have to hope the spotlight guy sees stuff. I also feel like many of these night animals might take a while to actually come out and be active.
For dinner we had tasty chicken with vegetables, rice, salad and pineapple. I went straight to bed after because I was beat. I slept straight through until the morning, “Hello?” For the morning drive Wednesday, we saw a giant horde of elephants (20+) eating their way through a lovely valley, two warthogs, and a male and female giraffe up close (the male peed for us, for, I kid you not, minutes). And we finally saw lions! First thing in the morning we saw a female lion sitting off in a field, and then later on we got word from another driver and found a spot where two male lions were just laying around in the shade. We were right near them, and they couldn’t have cared less.
The night drive was lousy and all we saw were mongoose-type things once it got dark. We didn’t even see the regular animals much. It started promising: we saw 14 giraffes on the way to the park gate, and then we saw a valley full of cape buffalo. The hour before dark was adventurous as we went off the beaten path trying to find lions. We drove on what might have been a road before the floods, but it was now a bumpy dried up pond bottom. There were so many tree branches grown over it that we had to jump down to the bottom of the car a few times to get through without being mangled. After all that there were no lions, so we zoomed insanely through the sandy beach (I thought we were so going to roll over) to a place I think was called a spar. It was a huge open space surrounded by trees. There were all these mangled trees and stumps on it. In the 1970s the elephants numbered 100,000, and they would just destroy whole tree areas by eating them. Poaching reduced their numbers to 9000, but now they’re back up to 17,000. Rhinos fared worse, however, and there are none left in the park.
We saw some giraffe bones that someone had gathered and placed in order. Then the lame night part began and we saw jack. Dinner was good and included some tasty nsima that was nice because it wasn’t so processed like a lot of them. Then I went with Iceland to the bar for some chocolate cake, which was great.
Thursday we had breakfast (real breakfast) and then loaded up and went to Tribal Textiles. They gave us a nice tour of the place. First there was a crafts table where some local artisans made things. I wanted to get one of these cool candle holders made of wire they re-appropriate from poaching snares to get them out of circulation. We moved on to the textiles. First they take the cotton fabric (cotton is a major crop in Zambia), put a design on there, and then outline it with a flour and water paste to make a line between paint areas. Then they paint it with color, dry them in the sun, and bake them in this giant oven to make the paint hold fast when you wash it. We got to see all these steps along with the paint mixer guy and the sewing room.
After the nice tour we had a shamefully short time to shop. Upon further review, this would have been a good activity for the eons of time between drives on one of the prior two days. I was about to give up once the driver of the other car was giving me a hard time that we had to go, but then I saw a really cool wall hanging right at the door, so I got that. Didn’t get to look at the crafts table, though. It’s got a nice design with African flair, without being too kitschy with cartoony animals or people.
We zipped to Chipata, mostly downhill so much faster than the way up. We had lunch, then breezed through the border, and quickly we were back. I said goodbye to everyone, hit the forex, got an ice cream, and grabbed some groceries at Shoprite. It was a lovely trip, and I’m really glad I went. The animals were amazing, and it was a nice little place. I’ll post a more formal review at some point for people who might google about the trip and the tour company, but I wanted to get my storytelling version out there.
Best road sighting from Lilongwe to Mchinji: Chibuku Hangover Bar!
I had never gone in the Mchinji direction before; it’s flat but nice and gets hilly toward the border. At the gas station in Mchinji we were greeted by demanding street urchins who wanted alternately some of our cookies and money and who hadn’t really learned to say please or to be polite in any way. I eventually scolded them and told them to go to school and had to do the same on the return also.
We soon reached the border, which was stupid. Instead of having one building representing the border, there is a Malawi building and a Zambia building. You exit Malawi first, filling out an exit card and getting a passport stamp. Then you pile back into the car, drive 50 feet to the Zambia building, and enter Zambia, filling out an entry card and book with the exact same information and getting a visa stamp. On the way back we actually figured out that the people who finish first could just walk over to the other building to speed up the whole process. Anyway, all the passports and Visa waivers were easy and fine, but at the Zambia office, they said they didn’t have a record for whatever tax the vehicles require. The drivers had receipts showing the payments, but the officials seemed to want to delay us as much as possible to see if they might be able to get additional payment. Hilariously, on the exit side of the building we saw this great poster that was all, it’s a crime to give money to immigration officials! Don’t do it! It’s like, don’t bribe us, but occasionally, we might ask to test you and see if you’re a criminal. Whatever. Finally they let us go.
We had lunch at Chipata, and then we drove seemingly forever. Much of the road past Chipata is dirt, and the last leg toward Mfuwe is not so great. Once in Mfuwe it’s paved to the campground turnoff, and then it’s insanely bumpy due to last year’s floods.
We arrived at Track and Trails River Camp, which is right on the river. While hippos made crazy noises in the background, a very cute Dutch boy explained that Kiboko rents the campground space from them and has an agreement that we can use the facilities, which included a quite nice bathroom area (with occasional visitors like giant spiders and frogs in the toilet); a lovely pool with gorgeous wood steps up to it, a nice deck full of chairs and sunning pads, and a stunning view of the river; and a really nice bar and restaurant with attractive Dutch people serving up the drinks. The tents were awesome: huge walk-in tents with twin beds, a night stand, a canvas shelf thing and an electric lantern. They also gave us towels, although they were quite small. But quite nice accommodations for camping. The camp also has chalets, for those who like to stay in buildings who have more money.
We had dinner in the dark, as the power decided to go out for only the duration of our eating. We had tomato soup, spghetti with meat sauce (marinara for the vegetarians), salad, and bananas. The stars were lovely, and I saw the Big Dipper! I didn’t think it was visible from the southern hemisphere. After dinner most of us went straight to bed, given the 5 am wakeup call, and I slept okay until the hippos really started making a lot of motor-starting noises toward morning. I guess there was also an elephant in the camp sometime overnight. Later in the season I guess there are lots of animals, since the river gets so low and the animals all want to be closer to it.
Tuesday morning the wakeup call was a timid, “Hello?” waking only those of us who were already half awake. I took an unpleasantly cold shower which fortunately was not repeated as the hot water decided to work the other days. For “breakfast” we had tea/coffee with bread and butter/jam/peanut butter. At least they could have gotten the bread from Foodworth’s if that was all they planned to feed us that early in the morning. I had tea and coffee both, which was a huge mistake, as I had to pee all morning. During the break in the ride, I also opted for coffee, which meant that when we returned from the drive we had to stop at the main gate so I could pee. In the latrine. Which was an outhouse with a concrete floor featuring a hole. Yuck. But I had to pee that bad. I had to pee again after the short remaining drive to camp I was so full of pee. There was no way I could have made it over the crazy bumpy road with my bladder the way it was.
Uh, anyway, we went on our first game drive. It was awesome. The weather was lovely and it was only hot at the end. We saw a warthog, several herds of zebras, tons of yellow baboons, waterbacks, impalas and puku, plenty of elephants, a monitor lizard, a fish eagle and several other birds, a funky squirrel (I had thought about asking the driver earlier if there were squirrels, as a joke), a cape buffalo, crocodiles, hippos in the water and on the beach, and two giraffes! The giraffes were most awesome. The first was a female eating off a big ol tree, and the second was a male covered in tiny birds that ate ticks off of him. He wandered onto the road and we followed him for several minutes, like a giraffe parade. He just lumbered along very gracefully, completely unconcerned about us being behind him. He eventually got off the road and pooped. You’d think it’d be like horse poop, but it’s actually a lot more like rabbit poop.
The time between drives was mostly all about lunch, chilling in the pool, and relaxing at the bar. The managers of the camp were being filmed by a Dutch television crew for a show about people who leave Holland for random places like Zambia, so I’ll probably be on Dutch TV sometime next year in the background of some shot.
The night drive was okay. I had sat shotgun in the morning, which is lower and more stable than the actual safari seats. I felt like I was going to get bumped out of the car every time we hit bad road. It’s much harder on the ass, and a bit colder. The weather was mostly lovely, until the end, which was cold. We saw a leopard (after a bit of not-quite-kosher offroading), a hyena on the bridge coming back from town, a pregnant zebra, and two porcupines! Apparently porcupines are a rare sight, so that was cool. They are crazy looking. The night drive is light out for the first half but then it gets dark and a guy (in my shotgun seat) beams a huge spotlight to find animals that only come out at night. It’s not as good as the day drive because you don’t have a full field of vision and you can’t have the whole group looking for things. You have to hope the spotlight guy sees stuff. I also feel like many of these night animals might take a while to actually come out and be active.
For dinner we had tasty chicken with vegetables, rice, salad and pineapple. I went straight to bed after because I was beat. I slept straight through until the morning, “Hello?” For the morning drive Wednesday, we saw a giant horde of elephants (20+) eating their way through a lovely valley, two warthogs, and a male and female giraffe up close (the male peed for us, for, I kid you not, minutes). And we finally saw lions! First thing in the morning we saw a female lion sitting off in a field, and then later on we got word from another driver and found a spot where two male lions were just laying around in the shade. We were right near them, and they couldn’t have cared less.
The night drive was lousy and all we saw were mongoose-type things once it got dark. We didn’t even see the regular animals much. It started promising: we saw 14 giraffes on the way to the park gate, and then we saw a valley full of cape buffalo. The hour before dark was adventurous as we went off the beaten path trying to find lions. We drove on what might have been a road before the floods, but it was now a bumpy dried up pond bottom. There were so many tree branches grown over it that we had to jump down to the bottom of the car a few times to get through without being mangled. After all that there were no lions, so we zoomed insanely through the sandy beach (I thought we were so going to roll over) to a place I think was called a spar. It was a huge open space surrounded by trees. There were all these mangled trees and stumps on it. In the 1970s the elephants numbered 100,000, and they would just destroy whole tree areas by eating them. Poaching reduced their numbers to 9000, but now they’re back up to 17,000. Rhinos fared worse, however, and there are none left in the park.
We saw some giraffe bones that someone had gathered and placed in order. Then the lame night part began and we saw jack. Dinner was good and included some tasty nsima that was nice because it wasn’t so processed like a lot of them. Then I went with Iceland to the bar for some chocolate cake, which was great.
Thursday we had breakfast (real breakfast) and then loaded up and went to Tribal Textiles. They gave us a nice tour of the place. First there was a crafts table where some local artisans made things. I wanted to get one of these cool candle holders made of wire they re-appropriate from poaching snares to get them out of circulation. We moved on to the textiles. First they take the cotton fabric (cotton is a major crop in Zambia), put a design on there, and then outline it with a flour and water paste to make a line between paint areas. Then they paint it with color, dry them in the sun, and bake them in this giant oven to make the paint hold fast when you wash it. We got to see all these steps along with the paint mixer guy and the sewing room.
After the nice tour we had a shamefully short time to shop. Upon further review, this would have been a good activity for the eons of time between drives on one of the prior two days. I was about to give up once the driver of the other car was giving me a hard time that we had to go, but then I saw a really cool wall hanging right at the door, so I got that. Didn’t get to look at the crafts table, though. It’s got a nice design with African flair, without being too kitschy with cartoony animals or people.
We zipped to Chipata, mostly downhill so much faster than the way up. We had lunch, then breezed through the border, and quickly we were back. I said goodbye to everyone, hit the forex, got an ice cream, and grabbed some groceries at Shoprite. It was a lovely trip, and I’m really glad I went. The animals were amazing, and it was a nice little place. I’ll post a more formal review at some point for people who might google about the trip and the tour company, but I wanted to get my storytelling version out there.
End of study
We finished data collection the following Tuesday. It was weird to be done with it, after more than three weeks of going to the villages as a daily routine. It’s funny how easy it is to adjust to a new routine and have it feel normal. Joe asked me if I would feel weird when I get back, and I think it might be odd for a few days. I have established several routines here, and I have absolutely none there right now, with summer upon us. But I’ll work one out quickly, and I’ll be adjusted to home just as quickly.
The last day I had the car hire, I ran a bunch of errands. I switched to the South Luangwa NP trip, since I was still the only one signed up for the Malawi southern experience. It was a good move, much better than trying to set something up myself, and it was an awesome trip, and I will write about. I mailed postcards, hit the money bureau, and then went to Central Hospital to try to do something about a yellow fever certificate. The tour company said that sometimes at the border they require some kind of stamped note saying you don’t have yellow fever. Neither Zambia nor Malawi requires vaccination, since it’s not endemic this far south, but the guy at the tour company said any doctor could write me such a note. So I went over to Central Hospital, which looked like mostly what you’d expect: a decent but not pristine place with a ton of people waiting around all over the place. I was directed to OPD I, whatever that is, where a nurse got me a nice photocopy of the yellow card for recording immunizations. She nicely filled out both the yellow fever and cholera pages as if I’d been vaccinated for them two weeks before, stamping the whole lot with the official stamp and charging me MK600 for the trouble. Fraudulent yellow fever certificates! Brilliant! It had the vaccine lot number on there and everything! Turns out no one asked for it at the border (I guess really it’s supposed to be Malawi immigration wanting it when you’re coming from Zambia), so I didn’t have to defraud any immigration officials. :/
The last two days of May were spent entering data at N’s house. She has a computer, so I brought the work laptop over there so we could do two entries at once. I finished the entire first data entry on Wednesday, impressing everyone with my mad fast data entry skills. And it was more accurate then the second data entry too; most of my errors were actually caused by errors on the form, either skip patterns that weren’t skipped or items that were accidentally skipped. Basically, I rule at setting up awesome Access entry forms and then rocking through the data entry (just throwing that out there in case anyone wants to pay for these skills with money or beer). While at N’s both days we had a nice lunch, with nsima and beef the first day, and nsima and usipa the second day. I don’t think I’d make it a point to eat usipa much if I lived here; it’s basically the smallest fish in the lake, and it is generally dried and salted. Sardiney, I guess. I prefer a big fish like chambo.
We finished Thursday, so I let the crew loose. They were a fun group, and they did a good job with the study.
That Friday I was insanely productive. I compared the datasets and fixed all the data entry errors. Then I made a survey with frequencies. And a bunch of other crap too. It was good. I had the strangest feeling leaving work that day. I was almost – sad? It’s just strange to have my seemingly never-ending trip wind down.
The next day I went with G and her husband to a wedding. The church part wasn’t super different than most weddings I’ve seen; I guess in the villages there are most traditional elements, but this was mostly just a typical Christian kind of wedding with choirs and some nuances that I think any wedding would have. I guess the preacher was funny, but it was all in Chichewa, so I only got the jokes secondhand. It was really long. Lunch at G’s house was very tasty: nsima, beef, greens in a nice sauce, salad, other stuff I’ve forgotten. It was quite a spread. The reception was incredibly less interesting than I expected. Basically there was a processional of the bridal party through this tent to a stage all set up with nice chairs and couches. Then there was music, and people would go up to dance and drop and throw money around. I thought this would be a short thing at the beginning before moving on to more interesting things, but this money collection business seemed to be the entire purpose of the reception. Everyone who was not at the moment dancing and tossing small bills about just sat in row after row of chairs watching, looking totally bored (so it wasn’t just me!). Eventually sodas were passed around, but I really needed a good MGT. There may have been some things at the end after I left, but I was there for several hours without any change in festivities.
Sunday I packed up my stuff for my trip and for storage. Everything fit, giving me a good feeling about the final packing. I went over to the Capital Hotel to check my email and discovered that I got my insurance claim back and they gave me pretty much what I asked for, which is quite nice given the big fat deductible. I should at least be able to replace my camera and glasses, and maybe a few other small things. I might try to get my passport done with leftover grant money if I can.
The last day I had the car hire, I ran a bunch of errands. I switched to the South Luangwa NP trip, since I was still the only one signed up for the Malawi southern experience. It was a good move, much better than trying to set something up myself, and it was an awesome trip, and I will write about. I mailed postcards, hit the money bureau, and then went to Central Hospital to try to do something about a yellow fever certificate. The tour company said that sometimes at the border they require some kind of stamped note saying you don’t have yellow fever. Neither Zambia nor Malawi requires vaccination, since it’s not endemic this far south, but the guy at the tour company said any doctor could write me such a note. So I went over to Central Hospital, which looked like mostly what you’d expect: a decent but not pristine place with a ton of people waiting around all over the place. I was directed to OPD I, whatever that is, where a nurse got me a nice photocopy of the yellow card for recording immunizations. She nicely filled out both the yellow fever and cholera pages as if I’d been vaccinated for them two weeks before, stamping the whole lot with the official stamp and charging me MK600 for the trouble. Fraudulent yellow fever certificates! Brilliant! It had the vaccine lot number on there and everything! Turns out no one asked for it at the border (I guess really it’s supposed to be Malawi immigration wanting it when you’re coming from Zambia), so I didn’t have to defraud any immigration officials. :/
The last two days of May were spent entering data at N’s house. She has a computer, so I brought the work laptop over there so we could do two entries at once. I finished the entire first data entry on Wednesday, impressing everyone with my mad fast data entry skills. And it was more accurate then the second data entry too; most of my errors were actually caused by errors on the form, either skip patterns that weren’t skipped or items that were accidentally skipped. Basically, I rule at setting up awesome Access entry forms and then rocking through the data entry (just throwing that out there in case anyone wants to pay for these skills with money or beer). While at N’s both days we had a nice lunch, with nsima and beef the first day, and nsima and usipa the second day. I don’t think I’d make it a point to eat usipa much if I lived here; it’s basically the smallest fish in the lake, and it is generally dried and salted. Sardiney, I guess. I prefer a big fish like chambo.
We finished Thursday, so I let the crew loose. They were a fun group, and they did a good job with the study.
That Friday I was insanely productive. I compared the datasets and fixed all the data entry errors. Then I made a survey with frequencies. And a bunch of other crap too. It was good. I had the strangest feeling leaving work that day. I was almost – sad? It’s just strange to have my seemingly never-ending trip wind down.
The next day I went with G and her husband to a wedding. The church part wasn’t super different than most weddings I’ve seen; I guess in the villages there are most traditional elements, but this was mostly just a typical Christian kind of wedding with choirs and some nuances that I think any wedding would have. I guess the preacher was funny, but it was all in Chichewa, so I only got the jokes secondhand. It was really long. Lunch at G’s house was very tasty: nsima, beef, greens in a nice sauce, salad, other stuff I’ve forgotten. It was quite a spread. The reception was incredibly less interesting than I expected. Basically there was a processional of the bridal party through this tent to a stage all set up with nice chairs and couches. Then there was music, and people would go up to dance and drop and throw money around. I thought this would be a short thing at the beginning before moving on to more interesting things, but this money collection business seemed to be the entire purpose of the reception. Everyone who was not at the moment dancing and tossing small bills about just sat in row after row of chairs watching, looking totally bored (so it wasn’t just me!). Eventually sodas were passed around, but I really needed a good MGT. There may have been some things at the end after I left, but I was there for several hours without any change in festivities.
Sunday I packed up my stuff for my trip and for storage. Everything fit, giving me a good feeling about the final packing. I went over to the Capital Hotel to check my email and discovered that I got my insurance claim back and they gave me pretty much what I asked for, which is quite nice given the big fat deductible. I should at least be able to replace my camera and glasses, and maybe a few other small things. I might try to get my passport done with leftover grant money if I can.
Lake Malawi!
The lake was really fun. It’s a huge lake, and quite beautiful. It looks like a small ocean; actually K’s youngest daughter thinks all large bodies of water are lakes now. The fam picked me up and we met up with another family who was driving the front tractor part of a big shipping truck, because the husband runs a trucking company. It’s actually really cool inside, with bunk beds that all the kids rode on. K got to drive it to the lake, fulfilling her dream of being a long-distance trucker. I continued to ride in the normal car to the lake. As we drove on, the terrain got a bit more hilly and scenic.
Before Salima we stopped to buy some firewood at the side of the road. No one was standing next to it, but a man on a bike rode up and helped us find the owner of the wood and then helped us load it on top of the car. As I was getting back in the car, he began his sales pitch. I figured he had jewelry or curios or something. He opened his bag and had some kind of green herb inside in huge quantities. “What’s that?” I asked, expecting some delightful culinary insight. “Marijuana!” he replied, quite proud of his wares. Oh no, nooooo noo no, no thanks. Chamba is grown out by the lake, so I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. It was pretty funny.
We drove through Salima, passing by lots of curios and baskets and big woven mats and wicker and wood furniture. And people selling the usual slabs of meat that have been hanging outside since god knows when, and mice on a stick! I haven’t seen it up close, so I don’t know if they’re cooked already or what, but mice on a stick is highly recognizable, as it involves a large wooden skewer with mice kabobbed on there, tails and heads and all. The purveyors of these goods generally make sure to line up the mice for the most aesthetically pleasing skewer possible.
We got to Steps Campground, next to a big hotel. It’s a wonderful beachy place with bathrooms and fire pits and giant rocks for climbing (but not swimming near… big ass undertow, apparently), next to a lovely rocky hill. There were also lots of yellow baboons around, hanging out behind the bathroom. It also has a lovely beach bar, which we immediately patroned for some greens. (Word apparently doesn’t like patron as a verb). Carlsberg isn’t bad as beers go, but I’ll be pleased to return to a greater variety of brews. Anyway, there was wave surfing and rock climbing and laughing at kids and building of giant fires. There were like 10 families there or something crazy like that. So it was a big party.
I slept like crap because I’d had one or two too many greens and was dehydrated, and the tent shook violently all night with the wind, which only got more fierce after sundown. It was nice because it meant we didn’t have to worry about mosquitos, but it was super annoying for trying to sleep in a tent. (Okay, Word, seriously, mosquitoes? That just looks stupid. Isn’t it a Spanish word?) I got up around 6, and it was kind of cold, which it stayed most of the day. Of course, I’m always colder when I’m sleep deprived. Anyway, we had kind of a roving breakfast, with different parts of the camp making different things, and we mostly just sat around and chatted. The kids did go play in the water, being crazy little monkeys. A couple of the guys went to climb the big rock with actual equipment. There was a small guitar concert later on. And then it was time to pack up and go!
The big truck got stuck in the sand, pretty much on the only sandy part near where we were camped, so not a real sharp maneuvering job there. A bunch of guys came over and helped put boards and shit underneath and got it out. We were actually trying to help tow it out with this gnarly old tow rope that kept breaking. But it got out on it’s own and they headed on their way. But there was still one woman with her kids who just finished packing up. We figured she was probably fine, but we decided to wait and make sure she started off okay. Thank goodness! She turned the key and the sad rrr rrr rrr of non-startage came out. We tried to jump her to no avail. So we got to do some towing anyway! We called the big truck, since the guy who owns it is a mechanic, and we started out toward Salima. We knew we’d have to leave the car there if it couldn’t be fixed, because it was too hilly to tow it all the way back to town. But we met up with the truck crew and the guy quickly figured out what was wrong and got it started, so we were on our way!
All in all, I was really glad to get to see the lake, since by that point I was pretty sure I was going to have to switch my trip to Zambia and wouldn’t get to see it otherwise. It made me want to go to the beach when I get back and play in the water some more.
I guess I should probably go get tested for bilharzia when I get back, since I swam in the lake. I totally didn’t intend to (didn’t even bring a swimsuit… K lent me one), but it was a just too lovely and wavy. It’s a pretty easy treatment, so it’s totally worth it even if I have parasites now. :)
Before Salima we stopped to buy some firewood at the side of the road. No one was standing next to it, but a man on a bike rode up and helped us find the owner of the wood and then helped us load it on top of the car. As I was getting back in the car, he began his sales pitch. I figured he had jewelry or curios or something. He opened his bag and had some kind of green herb inside in huge quantities. “What’s that?” I asked, expecting some delightful culinary insight. “Marijuana!” he replied, quite proud of his wares. Oh no, nooooo noo no, no thanks. Chamba is grown out by the lake, so I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. It was pretty funny.
We drove through Salima, passing by lots of curios and baskets and big woven mats and wicker and wood furniture. And people selling the usual slabs of meat that have been hanging outside since god knows when, and mice on a stick! I haven’t seen it up close, so I don’t know if they’re cooked already or what, but mice on a stick is highly recognizable, as it involves a large wooden skewer with mice kabobbed on there, tails and heads and all. The purveyors of these goods generally make sure to line up the mice for the most aesthetically pleasing skewer possible.
We got to Steps Campground, next to a big hotel. It’s a wonderful beachy place with bathrooms and fire pits and giant rocks for climbing (but not swimming near… big ass undertow, apparently), next to a lovely rocky hill. There were also lots of yellow baboons around, hanging out behind the bathroom. It also has a lovely beach bar, which we immediately patroned for some greens. (Word apparently doesn’t like patron as a verb). Carlsberg isn’t bad as beers go, but I’ll be pleased to return to a greater variety of brews. Anyway, there was wave surfing and rock climbing and laughing at kids and building of giant fires. There were like 10 families there or something crazy like that. So it was a big party.
I slept like crap because I’d had one or two too many greens and was dehydrated, and the tent shook violently all night with the wind, which only got more fierce after sundown. It was nice because it meant we didn’t have to worry about mosquitos, but it was super annoying for trying to sleep in a tent. (Okay, Word, seriously, mosquitoes? That just looks stupid. Isn’t it a Spanish word?) I got up around 6, and it was kind of cold, which it stayed most of the day. Of course, I’m always colder when I’m sleep deprived. Anyway, we had kind of a roving breakfast, with different parts of the camp making different things, and we mostly just sat around and chatted. The kids did go play in the water, being crazy little monkeys. A couple of the guys went to climb the big rock with actual equipment. There was a small guitar concert later on. And then it was time to pack up and go!
The big truck got stuck in the sand, pretty much on the only sandy part near where we were camped, so not a real sharp maneuvering job there. A bunch of guys came over and helped put boards and shit underneath and got it out. We were actually trying to help tow it out with this gnarly old tow rope that kept breaking. But it got out on it’s own and they headed on their way. But there was still one woman with her kids who just finished packing up. We figured she was probably fine, but we decided to wait and make sure she started off okay. Thank goodness! She turned the key and the sad rrr rrr rrr of non-startage came out. We tried to jump her to no avail. So we got to do some towing anyway! We called the big truck, since the guy who owns it is a mechanic, and we started out toward Salima. We knew we’d have to leave the car there if it couldn’t be fixed, because it was too hilly to tow it all the way back to town. But we met up with the truck crew and the guy quickly figured out what was wrong and got it started, so we were on our way!
All in all, I was really glad to get to see the lake, since by that point I was pretty sure I was going to have to switch my trip to Zambia and wouldn’t get to see it otherwise. It made me want to go to the beach when I get back and play in the water some more.
I guess I should probably go get tested for bilharzia when I get back, since I swam in the lake. I totally didn’t intend to (didn’t even bring a swimsuit… K lent me one), but it was a just too lovely and wavy. It’s a pretty easy treatment, so it’s totally worth it even if I have parasites now. :)
Friday, June 08, 2007
A week away =
67 new Gmail threads, 35 new emails from my school account, 21 new yahoo emails, and 135 new Nose posts. Yikes!
The safari was awesome and I'm sad I don't have photos, but not having a camera meant I could just enjoy the animals without worrying about getting a good shot. I'll work on a huge epic update (probably split into parts for readability) Sunday and try to upload it before I leave.
The safari was awesome and I'm sad I don't have photos, but not having a camera meant I could just enjoy the animals without worrying about getting a good shot. I'll work on a huge epic update (probably split into parts for readability) Sunday and try to upload it before I leave.
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