My Buick had been sitting in my driveway since October when I decided I couldn't put any more money into repairs after I had just put a lot of money into repairs -- I decided to quit while I was ahead. I subsequently discovered that between walking, public transit, and ZipCar, life was manageable without a car. But the car sat in the driveway. We made some motions toward maybe getting it repaired, but the battery died over the cold winter and wouldn't recharge easily, and so it was too big a pain to do. Finally last week, prompted by pending registration fees, I set up a donation with Habitat for Humanity, which is where the prior owner got the car. We did a last few car-related tasks (changing the flat front tire, cleaning it out, removing a small garden that was growing in the crevice of the trunk, removing the plates), and last night (at 10:30... kinda late!) a guy came and towed it away. Today I mailed the plates to the MVA.
I'm kind of depressed about it. While it was in my driveway, I could feel like I still had my first car, even if I couldn't drive it. It's the car I would jump in dressed in pajamas to go to Joe's at night when we both lived in Baltimore. It's the car we took on vacation to the shore and drove up and down the island. It was nice inside and drove smoothly. So, it was sad to see it go off on a truck at night. But someday we'll have a car that's both of ours that's newer and nicer.
It also doesn't help that I think I'm getting a cold.
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Victory!
Seats opened up on an early evening train tomorrow, so we get to goof off tonight as late as we want and still get home at a reasonable hour tomorrow!
This means I better work on that lecture, though...
This means I better work on that lecture, though...
Saturday already?
Thursday was pretty much the usual family craziness. A lot of eating and drinking! We were all at Joe's parents' house for Thanksgiving, and for Christmas we'll go to the shore.
Yesterday Joe and I went out around 2:30, and it was still pretty nuts at the centers of shopping. I feel like when we went out last year to the outlets, it was dead because everyone went super early. I got some presents for the boy (which he pretty much saw/brought to my attention in the first place), but the deals weren't good enough yet for personal shopping. We came home and then went out to dinner at Villa Mannino, where we ordered our usual vodka rigatoni and eggplant parm. So delicious.
I don't know what we're up to yet today, but I'm sad we have to leave so early tomorrow morning. I checked the trains last night to see if we could switch to other options, but the entire middle of the day is booked, and everything is much more expensive than what I paid for the tickets. It's okay, I have to finish up a lecture for the proposal/project class for Monday, and it'll be easier to do it at home than on vacay.
I can't work when it feels like vacation, whereas the boy can poke at his dissertation whenever he has five minutes (which he usually stretches to ten or more, as I wait around). That's either healthy or tenure-killing.
Yesterday Joe and I went out around 2:30, and it was still pretty nuts at the centers of shopping. I feel like when we went out last year to the outlets, it was dead because everyone went super early. I got some presents for the boy (which he pretty much saw/brought to my attention in the first place), but the deals weren't good enough yet for personal shopping. We came home and then went out to dinner at Villa Mannino, where we ordered our usual vodka rigatoni and eggplant parm. So delicious.
I don't know what we're up to yet today, but I'm sad we have to leave so early tomorrow morning. I checked the trains last night to see if we could switch to other options, but the entire middle of the day is booked, and everything is much more expensive than what I paid for the tickets. It's okay, I have to finish up a lecture for the proposal/project class for Monday, and it'll be easier to do it at home than on vacay.
I can't work when it feels like vacation, whereas the boy can poke at his dissertation whenever he has five minutes (which he usually stretches to ten or more, as I wait around). That's either healthy or tenure-killing.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
In da Jerz for turkey day
The train was pretty awful last night... we took the last one out, and it was 2 hours late into the station, but they switched engines fast so we were only ("only") an hour late out, so we got to Trenton by 2 am. We pretty much instantly collapsed upon reaching home.
Today we went to Mastoris and then did very little. I even took a nap.
This stuff in India is very bad.
I think tomato pie is on the roster for tonight.
Today we went to Mastoris and then did very little. I even took a nap.
This stuff in India is very bad.
I think tomato pie is on the roster for tonight.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
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
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.
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.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Behind the times
I've been really busy with the study ending and data entry and suchlike, so I haven't so much had good internet time to update. Okay, mostly I've been lazy about typing up notes to dump online when I have the time.
The lake was fun, and I'm glad I got to see it. I'm going to Zambia's South Luangwa NP next week instead of southern Malawi because no one else ever signed up for the trip. I'm actually excited about it because apparently I will see a million animals, and it's the ultimate in not roughing it much at all. It should rule.
12 more days until I get back!
The lake was fun, and I'm glad I got to see it. I'm going to Zambia's South Luangwa NP next week instead of southern Malawi because no one else ever signed up for the trip. I'm actually excited about it because apparently I will see a million animals, and it's the ultimate in not roughing it much at all. It should rule.
12 more days until I get back!
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Safari!
Yesterday I started looking online to figure out my vacation plans. The places I looked had safaris that I felt were too expensive. I felt discouraged and began to wonder if maybe I could change my flight and come home earlier for less money. But then! I poked through Bradt Malawi and it mentioned a tour company that does budget tours. I just booked a tour with the exact places I wanted to go for just about the exact dates I wanted to go for the exact price I wanted to pay! So awesome! I'm so psyched! I'll be going to Blantyre, then to the Liwonde National Park, then to Cape Maclear at the lake. I'll be in a tent or whatever, but it's going to be awesome. I'll leave Monday, June 4 and return on Sunday 10, the day before I leave. This has totally put me in a much better mood about being here!
I also got a new phone number, although the DHL has not yet arrived so I have no phone to plunk the new SIM card into. You can reach me at 265-812-1170 until I leave!
I also got a new phone number, although the DHL has not yet arrived so I have no phone to plunk the new SIM card into. You can reach me at 265-812-1170 until I leave!
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
End of travel; day 1 in Lilongwe
In Jo’burg, I went to bed sometime after 9 and got up just after 6. The weather in Jo’burg was really lovely in the morning (high was going to be 25C, which I calculated to be 77F). I got to the airport and checked in, but before I could get my boarding pass, I had to go to the ticket counter and get an old school ticket. Weird. No one has those anymore. Security was nothing compared to the US. I just had to remove my laptop, and there appeared to be one guy both shlepping things onto the conveyor and watching the metal detector. I think there must have been another guy reading the xray. Maybe.
After passport control, I entered a huge duty free mall. It’s seriously giant. I saw a thing for tax refund for tourists, but upon reading their brochure, I saw that I needed some kind of official tax invoices from the place of purchase. I vaguely remember the South African Airways website asking me if I needed one, but I thought that was something else. I’m sure they make a killing off of ignorant people like me. Whatever, it’s grant money anyway. I waited at the “gate”, which was really a bus depot kind of thing, waiting to get on a shuttle to the plane. There was this monitor that was like 3D – it was totally nauseating.
The plane was really nice. US airlines totally suck in comparison to international carriers. The lunch was delicious (Lunch! On a 2-hour flight!), and it even came with real silverware. I was sitting on the wrong side of the plane to really see Lilongwe coming in, which was a bummer. The airport was pretty small. There were lots of people standing up on a balcony when we got there. We piled on a shuttle to go the like 50 yards to the terminal. Passport control took a long time, but customs was a breeze… I think they only actually care about people who live there bringing back cool shit without paying taxes on it. Either that or when I told the guy I was working with Malawi BRIDGE, he figured I was good.
The BRIDGE project has a few drivers. The one who picked me up was Gift (?), who was nice. We stopped by my room, and it’s just fine, so I emailed Esnart to say I’d been hooked up. Although the boss said I’d probably be meeting with the guy with the house in the next couple of days, so he might convince me otherwise. After the hotel, we went to exchange some moolah. The exchange rate is 145 Kwacha on the dollar for twenties, but only 110 for fivers. They don’t care for small bills. It was mega hot, in the 80s or so. After stopping at Foodsmiths so I could get some water (for $0.53), we went to the office. Kirsten gave me a tour… it’s basically a big room with these kind of neat wooden dividers… kind of a mix between cubicles and real offices. The walls have these windows in them that I also have in my hotel, which is several slats of glass that can be opened like a venetian blind. One of the women is on vacation this week, so I used her computer and waded through my email on the slow internet connection. I have an office too, but it’s going to take a little while to get my computer connected to the network.
The work schedule at BRIDGE is really early. Kirsten said most people are there from 8 to 5. Apparently the minibuses stop running at like 5:15, so people need to get out early. In the next few days, the new secretary there, who lives up near me, is supposed to help me figure out the minibuses, because I can’t have drivers drive me around all the time, especially once the survey workshops start and more important people (read: my advisor) will need transport.
I got home and unpacked my stuff. There are like 4 closets in this room. Three have shelves, and one has a bar, but there are no hangers. I still need to figure out where laundry will happen. And food. I wish I had been able to find a water kettle that switched voltage… maybe I’ll find one here. The BRIDGE office had one. Foodworths seemed to have a decent amount of stuff, but it’s not very close by. It might be minibus accessible, however. It seems like a lot of people drive and walk here, even though it’s just not possible to walk everywhere because things are fairly spread out. Also, there aren’t sidewalks everywhere.
The TV in the room is way better than I expected, given the few channels in the hotel in Jo’burg. It has real stuff, like CNN, MTV, etc. Except that whatever versions of these stations I have, they actually show, like, news and music and stuff. It’s sort of awesome, actually. No internet, though. I’d gladly trade TV for internet.
I went out to see what rooms are downstairs. There is a common area with couches and TV, a room with like a dining room table and 4 chairs, and a kitchen. I walked outside and down to the road with the intention of maybe getting some dinner. The guard started chatting with me. His name is Fred, and he’s 25. He was telling me that he had been in school, but that his father had died and he had to quit. So now he was working as a guard for the guesthouse, but it was only 4000 Kwacha a month (just under $30, less than what I’m paying everyday for the hotel), which wasn’t enough for him and his sister and brother. He wants a better job, and so he was eager to talk to me, because, hey, I might be able to hook him up. He was pretty cool, but by the time I was done talking to him, it was dark, so I kind of had to go back inside. I was too tired to figure out food, so I just bummed around under the bednet. When I was outside, I thought I felt some mosquitos (must buy DEET), but in my room I didn’t really see any. I just kind of like hanging out under it. I’m just super glad my power adapters work, because even without the internet, I can type things and watch movies. I can also charge my phone to use as an alarm clock. But not while I’m charging the computer battery because there’s only one plug.
It gets dark here earlier, since we’re near the equator. It was totally dark by 6:30.
I went to bed shortly after 9 again, and I woke up around 5:45. It was just starting to get light out. I bathed, by which I mean I sat in the bath and scrubbed myself. There’s a shower head on one of those movable tube thingies. But there’s really no where to hang it *up*. So I bathed, and then washed my hair, but I only got like 5 minutes of hot water out of the thing, so I know now to do my hair first.
I left the house at like 6:30 to go wander around. I walked all the way down to Foodsworth, which is far, to grab some groceries. I knew where it was, so I just kind of wandered there. Unforrtunately, I took a circuitous path where I thought the British Council was (I was right), and therefore missed that there is a People’s Supermarket much, much closer to home. But that’s okay, I didn’t mind the walk. Except that when I started, it was pleasantly cool and breezy, and by the time I returned, it was sunny and hot. It’s much cooler in my room. I ate the exotic breakfast of strawberry yogurt, bread with peanut butter (but bread from a bakery!), and corn flakes. Culture shock!
While out on my walk, I noticed a lot of minibuses going by to different places. I didn’t see any white people on any of them, so I’m sure I’ll be the total weirdo once I start riding them.
When I was walking home with the groceries, first a woman who was walking the same way took one of my bags to help me out, and then as I was almost home a young man did the same thing. Either I looked like a total wimp ambling up the street with my bags, or people are just helpful here.
After passport control, I entered a huge duty free mall. It’s seriously giant. I saw a thing for tax refund for tourists, but upon reading their brochure, I saw that I needed some kind of official tax invoices from the place of purchase. I vaguely remember the South African Airways website asking me if I needed one, but I thought that was something else. I’m sure they make a killing off of ignorant people like me. Whatever, it’s grant money anyway. I waited at the “gate”, which was really a bus depot kind of thing, waiting to get on a shuttle to the plane. There was this monitor that was like 3D – it was totally nauseating.
The plane was really nice. US airlines totally suck in comparison to international carriers. The lunch was delicious (Lunch! On a 2-hour flight!), and it even came with real silverware. I was sitting on the wrong side of the plane to really see Lilongwe coming in, which was a bummer. The airport was pretty small. There were lots of people standing up on a balcony when we got there. We piled on a shuttle to go the like 50 yards to the terminal. Passport control took a long time, but customs was a breeze… I think they only actually care about people who live there bringing back cool shit without paying taxes on it. Either that or when I told the guy I was working with Malawi BRIDGE, he figured I was good.
The BRIDGE project has a few drivers. The one who picked me up was Gift (?), who was nice. We stopped by my room, and it’s just fine, so I emailed Esnart to say I’d been hooked up. Although the boss said I’d probably be meeting with the guy with the house in the next couple of days, so he might convince me otherwise. After the hotel, we went to exchange some moolah. The exchange rate is 145 Kwacha on the dollar for twenties, but only 110 for fivers. They don’t care for small bills. It was mega hot, in the 80s or so. After stopping at Foodsmiths so I could get some water (for $0.53), we went to the office. Kirsten gave me a tour… it’s basically a big room with these kind of neat wooden dividers… kind of a mix between cubicles and real offices. The walls have these windows in them that I also have in my hotel, which is several slats of glass that can be opened like a venetian blind. One of the women is on vacation this week, so I used her computer and waded through my email on the slow internet connection. I have an office too, but it’s going to take a little while to get my computer connected to the network.
The work schedule at BRIDGE is really early. Kirsten said most people are there from 8 to 5. Apparently the minibuses stop running at like 5:15, so people need to get out early. In the next few days, the new secretary there, who lives up near me, is supposed to help me figure out the minibuses, because I can’t have drivers drive me around all the time, especially once the survey workshops start and more important people (read: my advisor) will need transport.
I got home and unpacked my stuff. There are like 4 closets in this room. Three have shelves, and one has a bar, but there are no hangers. I still need to figure out where laundry will happen. And food. I wish I had been able to find a water kettle that switched voltage… maybe I’ll find one here. The BRIDGE office had one. Foodworths seemed to have a decent amount of stuff, but it’s not very close by. It might be minibus accessible, however. It seems like a lot of people drive and walk here, even though it’s just not possible to walk everywhere because things are fairly spread out. Also, there aren’t sidewalks everywhere.
The TV in the room is way better than I expected, given the few channels in the hotel in Jo’burg. It has real stuff, like CNN, MTV, etc. Except that whatever versions of these stations I have, they actually show, like, news and music and stuff. It’s sort of awesome, actually. No internet, though. I’d gladly trade TV for internet.
I went out to see what rooms are downstairs. There is a common area with couches and TV, a room with like a dining room table and 4 chairs, and a kitchen. I walked outside and down to the road with the intention of maybe getting some dinner. The guard started chatting with me. His name is Fred, and he’s 25. He was telling me that he had been in school, but that his father had died and he had to quit. So now he was working as a guard for the guesthouse, but it was only 4000 Kwacha a month (just under $30, less than what I’m paying everyday for the hotel), which wasn’t enough for him and his sister and brother. He wants a better job, and so he was eager to talk to me, because, hey, I might be able to hook him up. He was pretty cool, but by the time I was done talking to him, it was dark, so I kind of had to go back inside. I was too tired to figure out food, so I just bummed around under the bednet. When I was outside, I thought I felt some mosquitos (must buy DEET), but in my room I didn’t really see any. I just kind of like hanging out under it. I’m just super glad my power adapters work, because even without the internet, I can type things and watch movies. I can also charge my phone to use as an alarm clock. But not while I’m charging the computer battery because there’s only one plug.
It gets dark here earlier, since we’re near the equator. It was totally dark by 6:30.
I went to bed shortly after 9 again, and I woke up around 5:45. It was just starting to get light out. I bathed, by which I mean I sat in the bath and scrubbed myself. There’s a shower head on one of those movable tube thingies. But there’s really no where to hang it *up*. So I bathed, and then washed my hair, but I only got like 5 minutes of hot water out of the thing, so I know now to do my hair first.
I left the house at like 6:30 to go wander around. I walked all the way down to Foodsworth, which is far, to grab some groceries. I knew where it was, so I just kind of wandered there. Unforrtunately, I took a circuitous path where I thought the British Council was (I was right), and therefore missed that there is a People’s Supermarket much, much closer to home. But that’s okay, I didn’t mind the walk. Except that when I started, it was pleasantly cool and breezy, and by the time I returned, it was sunny and hot. It’s much cooler in my room. I ate the exotic breakfast of strawberry yogurt, bread with peanut butter (but bread from a bakery!), and corn flakes. Culture shock!
While out on my walk, I noticed a lot of minibuses going by to different places. I didn’t see any white people on any of them, so I’m sure I’ll be the total weirdo once I start riding them.
When I was walking home with the groceries, first a woman who was walking the same way took one of my bags to help me out, and then as I was almost home a young man did the same thing. Either I looked like a total wimp ambling up the street with my bags, or people are just helpful here.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
I made it!
Hey everyone! I made it to Lilongwe! Here are the notes I compiled through last night (more on Lilongwe later):
Friday I began the great voyage. I ended up taking a cab to the airport with Joe, because my turn signals died on my car, and the already wary boy really didn’t want to drive it back after that. I managed to pack all my stuff into my big duffel, my rolly red carryon, and my laptop bag, making me rather mobile. Mostly I packed toiletries and random crap like scissors. I figured I can wash clothes and buy cheap new things like skirts. I do wish that I had considered ahead of time that aerosols aren’t really allowed in checked baggage (there are supposed to be more nuances to the rule, but they get all lost in practicality), because that’s how I bought my bug spray. I had to hand it off to Joe at the airport, but I’m glad I asked ahead of time. I don’t really want TSA rooting through my luggage if I can help it.
We got to the airport and tried to have breakfast. The only thing outside security was Starbucks, which has terrible food. There was a lot of crying involved. I procrastinated going through security until 20 minutes until my departure time, seeing as security had basically no line. As soon as I started through it, my name was called for “final boarding” on the PA. WTF? I hurried through, put on my sneakers as they called again, and sprinted to the end of the hall toward my gate. Basically, the first flight had been cancelled (thanks shitty weather!), and so there was mega standby for my flight, making my seat a hot commodity. The stupid thing was that I had checked a bag that they would have had to unload from the plane, which would probably have messed up the departure time, leaving me all that many more minutes to scream at the gate agents about how they suck and gave my seat away way too friggin early (ticket says 15 minutes, most regs say 10). But I made it, so no harangue-age was necessary.
We had to go through de-icing, and they stuff they sprayed on the plane clouded the windows and was pink and gooey. It was like Ghostbusters instead of de-icing!
I arrived in ATL and grabbed my bags, found the MARTA, and headed north. I got to the station closest to Emory and decided that since there weren't really any cabs around, I would try the 6 bus. It worked out pretty great. I love public transit! I met up with my sis, showered, and went to the wedding stuff. It was too cold for the lovely outdoor garden wedding they had planned, but it was still great and a ton of fun. Sunday I checked out, met up with Pro and Emily, and hung out in the lounge with them and the happy couple and other peeps. Eventually they all went to Waffle House, dropping me off at the MARTA on the way. I was slightly freaking because Afsheen had said that ATL was very strict about baggage rules, and that for international departures they wouldn’t take bags after 90 minutes before departure. I made it with several minutes to spare, but some poor Delta agent got the brunt of my panic when the stupid online check-in machine wouldn’t read my passport and kept telling me I had to go to the line instead of just letting me try the damn thing again. But it all worked out.
Once on the plane, our departure time was delayed. Someone wasn’t on the plane, so they had to unload his bag. Many, many minutes after our scheduled departure time, said moron shows up. He was some rednecky looking dude with a Jack Daniels baseball cap. He’s lucky more people didn’t notice him get on and/or be crazy enough to beat his ass. The captain came on the PA several minutes later and, barely concealing his irritation, announced that our missing passenger had arrived, but his bag had been way in the back of the cargo hold, so they had to unload all the bags, basically. And now they had to re-load them, including this guy’s. Thanks a lot, guy.
On the flight, they filled us with many beverages and dinner. It got dark around 7:30pm EDT, which is 11:30 in Senegal (where we will stop around 5am) and 1:30am in Johannesburg/Lilongwe.
We arrived at Dakar, Senegal at 1:20am EDT, 5:20 there, 7:20 in Jo’burg. Landing in Dakar was weird. It was strangely dark out, and the darkest parts seemed to have the most prosaic buildings. Upon landing, people got off the plane (apparently using stairs to the tarmac, as we weren’t close enough to the building for the regular jetway), and a slew of people in airport fluorescent yellow vests came from the back stairs to “clean.” But actually what they did was inspect all the seats, pulling out the seat cushions and rummaging through the seat pockets. They also were making sure all the overhead baggage belonged to someone. It was weird. We were there about an hour, but we didn’t get to leave. A few folks got on, but I still had no seatmate, so woo.
With the back door open, I could smell the air from outside. At first something about it reminded me of being in Europe. I think my brain just processed it as “foreign” air. It smelled humid and salty and oceany, which is actually more like a foggy summer day in Boston. But maybe something was different about the water itself, making it smell a little different.
Sunrise was about an hour later, after we were back in the air. This means that the plane only had 6 hours of night. I slept more after breakfast, but it was only marginally helpful. They did serve ice cream (those little Haagen Daaz containers). This flight is all about sleeping and eating.
I went to the bathroom, where turbulence began, which was fun. I returned from the bathroom to see the coast of Africa (Namibia, if the inflight map is to be believed). I took a couple of photos from the window. I wanted to get a better shot of the coast, but I was too late. Further inland, the big smooth sand surface turned into bumpier sand more cut by water. It actually looked like parts of New Mexico, although drier. Later on, things got real flat and empty, and it looked just like west Texas. It was like flying to Albuquerque.
I landed in Jo’bug, and one of the first things I saw upon departing the plane was a billboard… owned by Clear Channel. Not too exotic. Getting through customs turned out to be all too easy. When I got off the plane, I got into a big line to get my passport stamped. My particular agent didn’t ask me any questions at all. Then I got my bag and went to the “Nothing to Declare” side of customs. I handed my form to a guy who just seemed to be collecting them and nothing else, and then I walked right out of the terminal. I could have had all kinds of stuff in my bags! Nope, nothing to see here!
As I walked away, however, a man in an orange jumpsuit came up and said something about my bags. I thought he was some kind of inspector guy, but it turns out he was a porter and wanted to help me get my bags to wherever I was going. I tried to fend him off, knowing I’d have to tip him, but it just wasn’t worth fighting about it, and it turned out the shuttle stop was kind of far. My shuttle arrived after a while, and we departed for the various affiliated hotels. So far I haven’t really hit any major culture shock. The road to the hotel reminded me of a major road into Montreal, in that it looked like a slightly funky version of many highways in the US with factories and big billboards and car dealerships and crap like that next to it. Only thing is that they drive on the other side of the road and in the other side of the car. Weird. I kept feeling like everyone was going the wrong way.
My room was super interesting. It’s pretty tiny, but for one person it was just great. The bathroom was not entirely a separate room, as you will see in photos, but it was separated enough for my purposes. The plug was different from the one I have, so I used the last of my battery juice to upload photos and type some notes. It was so great to shower. The shower is kind of a step off the ground, but there was excellent water pressure and temperature. I didn’t get any dinner, since I didn’t get any cash, but I feel like I ate a bunch on the plane. I watched TV, although there were only like 6 channels, but they’ve had things like ER and Sopranos. They’re all at least a season behind, and they are featuring some things that went away a while ago (I saw a commercial for Chicago Hope, of all things). I watched part of a soap opera called Scandals! It was multi-lingual, which was fun (English subtitles too for those parts). I noticed in Jo’burg that people in multiple languages seem to say numbers in English. I heard an Indian guy do it, and I saw it on TV. Oh! On this news program where the guy was talking, and sometimes he made little clicky sounds! Clicky sounds! Are the best!
Once I get to Lilongwe, I have to decide what I’m doing for housing. I got an email from my contact in Lilongwe that she finally heard back from her friend (who worked on the last BRIDGE midterm survey) and I could stay at his house in his guest room. I kind of feel like I don’t want to, because I think it’s further from actual stuff in town and I kind of don’t want to have to deal with people at the end of the day. I figure I’ll see what the hotel is like and get a sense of whether there is some advantage to this guy’s house (wireless internet would be a pretty big draw). I just don’t want to offend either this woman or her friend, esp if the friend goes to any trouble to get his guest wing ready for me. Either way, it’ll cost about the same, I think.
Friday I began the great voyage. I ended up taking a cab to the airport with Joe, because my turn signals died on my car, and the already wary boy really didn’t want to drive it back after that. I managed to pack all my stuff into my big duffel, my rolly red carryon, and my laptop bag, making me rather mobile. Mostly I packed toiletries and random crap like scissors. I figured I can wash clothes and buy cheap new things like skirts. I do wish that I had considered ahead of time that aerosols aren’t really allowed in checked baggage (there are supposed to be more nuances to the rule, but they get all lost in practicality), because that’s how I bought my bug spray. I had to hand it off to Joe at the airport, but I’m glad I asked ahead of time. I don’t really want TSA rooting through my luggage if I can help it.
We got to the airport and tried to have breakfast. The only thing outside security was Starbucks, which has terrible food. There was a lot of crying involved. I procrastinated going through security until 20 minutes until my departure time, seeing as security had basically no line. As soon as I started through it, my name was called for “final boarding” on the PA. WTF? I hurried through, put on my sneakers as they called again, and sprinted to the end of the hall toward my gate. Basically, the first flight had been cancelled (thanks shitty weather!), and so there was mega standby for my flight, making my seat a hot commodity. The stupid thing was that I had checked a bag that they would have had to unload from the plane, which would probably have messed up the departure time, leaving me all that many more minutes to scream at the gate agents about how they suck and gave my seat away way too friggin early (ticket says 15 minutes, most regs say 10). But I made it, so no harangue-age was necessary.
We had to go through de-icing, and they stuff they sprayed on the plane clouded the windows and was pink and gooey. It was like Ghostbusters instead of de-icing!
I arrived in ATL and grabbed my bags, found the MARTA, and headed north. I got to the station closest to Emory and decided that since there weren't really any cabs around, I would try the 6 bus. It worked out pretty great. I love public transit! I met up with my sis, showered, and went to the wedding stuff. It was too cold for the lovely outdoor garden wedding they had planned, but it was still great and a ton of fun. Sunday I checked out, met up with Pro and Emily, and hung out in the lounge with them and the happy couple and other peeps. Eventually they all went to Waffle House, dropping me off at the MARTA on the way. I was slightly freaking because Afsheen had said that ATL was very strict about baggage rules, and that for international departures they wouldn’t take bags after 90 minutes before departure. I made it with several minutes to spare, but some poor Delta agent got the brunt of my panic when the stupid online check-in machine wouldn’t read my passport and kept telling me I had to go to the line instead of just letting me try the damn thing again. But it all worked out.
Once on the plane, our departure time was delayed. Someone wasn’t on the plane, so they had to unload his bag. Many, many minutes after our scheduled departure time, said moron shows up. He was some rednecky looking dude with a Jack Daniels baseball cap. He’s lucky more people didn’t notice him get on and/or be crazy enough to beat his ass. The captain came on the PA several minutes later and, barely concealing his irritation, announced that our missing passenger had arrived, but his bag had been way in the back of the cargo hold, so they had to unload all the bags, basically. And now they had to re-load them, including this guy’s. Thanks a lot, guy.
On the flight, they filled us with many beverages and dinner. It got dark around 7:30pm EDT, which is 11:30 in Senegal (where we will stop around 5am) and 1:30am in Johannesburg/Lilongwe.
We arrived at Dakar, Senegal at 1:20am EDT, 5:20 there, 7:20 in Jo’burg. Landing in Dakar was weird. It was strangely dark out, and the darkest parts seemed to have the most prosaic buildings. Upon landing, people got off the plane (apparently using stairs to the tarmac, as we weren’t close enough to the building for the regular jetway), and a slew of people in airport fluorescent yellow vests came from the back stairs to “clean.” But actually what they did was inspect all the seats, pulling out the seat cushions and rummaging through the seat pockets. They also were making sure all the overhead baggage belonged to someone. It was weird. We were there about an hour, but we didn’t get to leave. A few folks got on, but I still had no seatmate, so woo.
With the back door open, I could smell the air from outside. At first something about it reminded me of being in Europe. I think my brain just processed it as “foreign” air. It smelled humid and salty and oceany, which is actually more like a foggy summer day in Boston. But maybe something was different about the water itself, making it smell a little different.
Sunrise was about an hour later, after we were back in the air. This means that the plane only had 6 hours of night. I slept more after breakfast, but it was only marginally helpful. They did serve ice cream (those little Haagen Daaz containers). This flight is all about sleeping and eating.
I went to the bathroom, where turbulence began, which was fun. I returned from the bathroom to see the coast of Africa (Namibia, if the inflight map is to be believed). I took a couple of photos from the window. I wanted to get a better shot of the coast, but I was too late. Further inland, the big smooth sand surface turned into bumpier sand more cut by water. It actually looked like parts of New Mexico, although drier. Later on, things got real flat and empty, and it looked just like west Texas. It was like flying to Albuquerque.
I landed in Jo’bug, and one of the first things I saw upon departing the plane was a billboard… owned by Clear Channel. Not too exotic. Getting through customs turned out to be all too easy. When I got off the plane, I got into a big line to get my passport stamped. My particular agent didn’t ask me any questions at all. Then I got my bag and went to the “Nothing to Declare” side of customs. I handed my form to a guy who just seemed to be collecting them and nothing else, and then I walked right out of the terminal. I could have had all kinds of stuff in my bags! Nope, nothing to see here!
As I walked away, however, a man in an orange jumpsuit came up and said something about my bags. I thought he was some kind of inspector guy, but it turns out he was a porter and wanted to help me get my bags to wherever I was going. I tried to fend him off, knowing I’d have to tip him, but it just wasn’t worth fighting about it, and it turned out the shuttle stop was kind of far. My shuttle arrived after a while, and we departed for the various affiliated hotels. So far I haven’t really hit any major culture shock. The road to the hotel reminded me of a major road into Montreal, in that it looked like a slightly funky version of many highways in the US with factories and big billboards and car dealerships and crap like that next to it. Only thing is that they drive on the other side of the road and in the other side of the car. Weird. I kept feeling like everyone was going the wrong way.
My room was super interesting. It’s pretty tiny, but for one person it was just great. The bathroom was not entirely a separate room, as you will see in photos, but it was separated enough for my purposes. The plug was different from the one I have, so I used the last of my battery juice to upload photos and type some notes. It was so great to shower. The shower is kind of a step off the ground, but there was excellent water pressure and temperature. I didn’t get any dinner, since I didn’t get any cash, but I feel like I ate a bunch on the plane. I watched TV, although there were only like 6 channels, but they’ve had things like ER and Sopranos. They’re all at least a season behind, and they are featuring some things that went away a while ago (I saw a commercial for Chicago Hope, of all things). I watched part of a soap opera called Scandals! It was multi-lingual, which was fun (English subtitles too for those parts). I noticed in Jo’burg that people in multiple languages seem to say numbers in English. I heard an Indian guy do it, and I saw it on TV. Oh! On this news program where the guy was talking, and sometimes he made little clicky sounds! Clicky sounds! Are the best!
Once I get to Lilongwe, I have to decide what I’m doing for housing. I got an email from my contact in Lilongwe that she finally heard back from her friend (who worked on the last BRIDGE midterm survey) and I could stay at his house in his guest room. I kind of feel like I don’t want to, because I think it’s further from actual stuff in town and I kind of don’t want to have to deal with people at the end of the day. I figure I’ll see what the hotel is like and get a sense of whether there is some advantage to this guy’s house (wireless internet would be a pretty big draw). I just don’t want to offend either this woman or her friend, esp if the friend goes to any trouble to get his guest wing ready for me. Either way, it’ll cost about the same, I think.
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