Malawi - The Warm Heart of Africa

July 19, 2008 - Arusha, Tanzania


Many people had raved to us about Malawi, the little country with the big lake, since we had arrived in Africa. In particular, they mentioned how friendly the people were, and we were not disappointed. From when we arrived at the border, the local money changers spent time trying to teach us a few basic phrases in Chechewa. It was a lovely welcome to Malawi, and the first of many wonderful interactions with the Malawian people.

Our first night in Lilongwe, we went out with our Aussie mates, Stu and Didge, for a boozy night at the Diplomats Bar in town. Being a Monday night, it was pretty quiet at first, but soon picked u when four mzungus (white people) walked into the bar. It was not long until all four of us, in paricular the girls, became the life of the party, with the locals dancing around us.

The second night, after a nice dinner, was spent looking for a movie cinema. Johanna and I had not seen a flick since leaving Australia, and were keen to go see one. We asked around, and sent on a while goose chase as people told us a cinema was here and there. Finally, we asked a guy who replied by saying "You only got to Malawi yesterday. Didn't you?" He was right of course. He then told us there were no cinemas in the country, and that he had to go to Zimbabwe or South Africa when he wanted to see a movie. We were surprised and disappointed, but happy enough when he offered us a ride home.

We ended up spending a week in Lilongwe taking it easy and soaking up city life. It was quite poor, and was heart-breaking to see home of the poverty on the streets. Young children with deformed legs would be wheeled down the streets in an attempt to beg, others washed their clothes in dirty puddles under the bridge, and street sellers would desparately attempt to sell their wares. But somehow, this poverty would be offset by the colour and movement of the streets. Trucks that rode by with 30-40 people in the back, who would wave to us as we went by. People would ride by on bikes, or use them to carry large planks of wood. Women would walk by in floral dresses and head scarves. Children would flash their big, white teeth at us as they smiled at the funny mzungus. I liked it.

June 6 marked the day that Inara, Johanna's friend from work in Sydney, was to join us on our travels. We started the day by first getting a bus out to see the Tobacco Auction floors near the airport. Tobacco is Malawi's most important cash crop, accounting for 60% of its export earnings. Outside the massive halls, dozens of large trucks sat with huge bales of tobacco piled high. Inside lay thousands of bales of tobacco in long parallel lines. The smell of the tobacco was overpowering, but the sight impressive. Unfortunately, we had missed the auction itself, where buyers had bought the bales for around $25 a pop. Now dozens of workers were tying up the bales to transport to smokers around the world. I could not help but wonder how much cancer and enfycema was waiting there in that hall alone. One of the workers took us around the hall, and we found out that he gets paid the equivalent of $60 a month - not quite enough to feed his family of six, but still more than double the average Malawi wage.

Next we jumped into a cab to head to the airport. But getting a cab is not always as simple as it seems. This one had a flat battery and a punctured tyre. The driver had to roll his cab backwards down the hill to jump start his motor, then put $5 of fuel in with the motor still on, then pump up his punctured tyre, before we were off to the airport. Inara arrived at the airport soon after, but her bags didn't follow, so we push started the cab again to get on the road again, luggageless. Back in Lilongwe, we got stuck in traffic before the tyre went completely flat again. So we walked the rest of the way back to the hostel. Inara had only been in the country an hour before losing her luggage, having to jump start a taxi and getting a flat tyre. Welcome to Africa!

We spent the next few days checking out Lilongwe's streets and night life. I even had a chance to enjoy some church singing at a large congregation of church groups. Then finally, Inara's bags arrived, and it was time to leave Lilongwe.


Visiting Our Sponsor Kids

We spent a couple of days at the relaxed Senga Bay before heading south towards Nyuchi. where Johanna and I had sponsored two Malawian Kids, Lidia and Particia, through an Australian charity, World Vision. The bus south was extremely cramped, and it was standing room only. We were shocked yet fascinated when a mother passed her young boy out the small window of the bus when he needed to pee, and then got some onlookers to pass him back through the window. But despite being cramped, the locals were still friendly.

In Liwonde, we went on a shopping spree in the local markets, buying toys, sweets, food, cooking utensils, clothes, blankets, flip flops, toiletries, pens and exercise books for our sponsor kids and their families. The following morning, we were picked up in the World Vision 4x4, and introduced to our friendly World Vision guides for the day, Abner and Emma. We were then finally on our way to Nyuchi, the small village near the border of Mozambique.

Our first stop was to meet Lidia, Johanna's sponsor child, at her school. As we drove in, we were surrounded by hundreds of the local students who were intrigued by the mzungus who had come to visit. We met Lidia, a tall girl who seemed shy at first. But this seemed quite understandable by the when she became the centre of attention among the throngs of her peers. She later opened up away from the hordes to show her broad smile and friendly nature. We took refuge from the mini paparazzi at the headmasters office, where we learnt that only 5 teachers were responsible for the 830 kids at the school. With both morning and afternoon shifts, that means that each teacher would teach around 80 kids twice a day. Quite a ratio.

We moved on to the seniors class, being welcomed in unison. While the other kids poked their heads through the windows or were whisked away by the headmaster with a long cane, the older kids were allowed to ask some questions about Australia. One question asked was "Do your children go to school?". The kids were shocked and amused that we were so old and still did not have children. Our last challenge or question was "Can you ride a bike?". So outside, still surrounded by screaming kids, Johanna jumped on a bike and rode around the field while being chased by the screaming, laughing hordes. It was quite hilarious to watch.

We drove away from the hysteria towards Lidia's home, but were only greeted by more hysteria. Lidia's extended family and neighbours had come out to greet us. They danced, sang, hollared and hugged us to welcome and thank us. It was an emotional and memorable moment. After the initial welcome, we sat on straw mats outside their modest home near the maize fields. While dozens of neighbours looked on in interest, we met Lidia's parents, siblings (including "Wonderful" and "Lovemore") grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. Lidia's grandmother, who was hunched over and missing teeth, told us we were the first white people to ever visit her village. I had thought placed like that did not exist anymore.

As we were running behind schedule, Abner suggested I meet my sponsor child alone so that Johanna could have lunch with Lidia and her family. So we first went to Particia's school where once again, a crowd of kids instantly formed around me. Then Patricia was brought forward, the small 7 year old that I had been sponsoring. Like Lidia, she was quite shy amongst all the onlookers, but it was nice to meet her face to face. Once again, I joined a class for a short interrogation before heading to Patricia's home.

At Patricia's home, I was once again greeted by a singing welcome. I sat outside Patricia's home with her parents with the village looking on in interest. As I looked out at the sea of children's faces, I could start to contemplate how half the country is under 15 years of age. Surrounded by the crowds, we walked through the fields past goat pens, chickens and pumpkin fields towards a water pump that World Vision had installed. With a few simple pumps, clear water poured out. It was nice to think that some of my contributions could have gone to this water pump. Something that we take for granted back home is so important to the community here.

We went back to the home, and sat inside on floor mats. With the help of Emma translating, I chatted away with Patricia and her family, talking about their lives and mine. Patricia's mum cooked a feast of goat, chicken, pumpkin leaves, pigeon peas, rice and nzima, and we ate it on the floor using our hand. It was tasty, but would have been quite costly by their standards. I did not want to offend by eating too little, or eat them out of house and home. But with their generous nature, they had to ask me to eat more two times - not something that usually needs to be asked from me. After lunch, I met Patricia's 6 siblings, 2 nephews, grandparents, numerous uncles and cousins, and the small house became quite full with maybe 30-40 people. But the real party started when the aunts arrived. They came in laughing and yelling, and gave me a big hug before starting to sing and dance. Soon the whole house was singing and dancing as I joined in. It was a real celebration, and made me feel very welcome and honoured.

Later, Patricia showed me how she often goes skipping with her friends. The skipping rope is made of local reeds tied together. I had a go as well, which sent the locals into fits of laughter. After things settled, I gave the family their gifts, and they gave me a straw hat and tray in return. We kept saying "zicomo" (thankyou) to each other dozens of times. They continued to thank me for their support as I continued to thank them for their hospitality. Eventually, the World Vision car returned with Johanna and Inara, and it was time to say goodbye. As we drove away, dozens of kids chased the car about a kilometre along the dirt road. It was the perfect end to a perfect day - one that I will remember and cherish for a long time.

On the drive back, Abner and Emma spoke about World Vision's challenges and achievements. Its challenges are many - water, food, infrastructure, employment, AIDS, malaria, education, health and societal attitudes. But I was happy to hear they were doing the right things by these people. Their focus was a long-term one, trying to help people to help themselves rather than simply giving a hand-out. There are about 4000 World Vision sponsor children in this region alone, and I am happy to help out with a couple of them.


Climbing Mount Mulanje

A 4x4, fume filled minibus and a crowded pick-up truck took us to Likhubula at the base of Mount Mulanje. The followed day we met our guide, Nena, and our porter, Mr D. The five of us set off up Malawi's highest mountain, Mount Mulanje. The trek started easily enough, on a steady incline past beautiful waterfalls and forests. But as we continued up the mountain, the slope became tougher and the conditions cooler. Our path took us through fields of bright orange, yellow and purple wildflowers and craggy peaks. A mist would occasionally engulf us before leaving again to expose magnificant views. Continuing up the slope, and after 7 hours heavy walking, we reached our stop for the night, Chisepo Hut.

The hut consisted of a large, square, wooden building with a fireplace in the middle and a balcony offering gorgeous views of the valley below. After an ehausting day, it felt great to be warm and fed, and we dozed off early next to a crackling fire. The girls had had enough, deciding not to head further up the slope. But I, while tired, could not let myself give up only a couple hours away from the top. So Nena and I set of the next morning for the peak.

As we started walking, I found it difficult to breathe, my lungs adjusting to the new altitude. But it soon settled, which was fortunate considering what was to come. The stretch ahead was the hardest of the drive to the top, with steep inclines up to 50-60 degrees in some places. I abandoned my walking stick in order to use my hands to clamber up the rockface. As we pushed uphill, the hut below looked smaller and smaller before disappearing into the mist. After a short break at the ridge, we continued on clambering over boulders, through tight crevices and under fallen trees. I continued to use all the strength in my arms and legs to propel myself forward and upward. Seeing the marker post in the distance was motivating as we made the final push for the peak.

I made it! I felt exhausted, relieved and exhilirated all at once, yelling in triumph and thanking Nena for his guidance. I think it was the greatest challenge so far of this African trip, and I was happy and somewhat proud to have made it. It was lovely to look down at the clouds from this island in the sky. It was cold, but we spent some time having lunch, breathing the crisp air and enjoying the moment at 3001m above sea level, 2200m higher than our starting point. Not bad for an old man. Mountain climbing is a funny thing. You go through all the pain and effort to get to the top, only to end up just going back down again. But that is, of course, exactly what we did.

Everyone always thinks that coming down is the easy part, but that is not always the case. The trip down the steep slope was horror on my legs, and my left knee started to hurt like hell. I think it actually took longer to descend than ascend, and I was hobbling at the end. On my return to the hut, I felt like a real adventurer returning from a great expedition. Of course, I also felt exhausted, and soon passed out next to the fire. That night, Nena cooked us a dinner of dried fish, eggs and nsima (a maize meal porridge). I would not usually eat fish at the top of a mountain in a developing country, but as the girls would not touch it, I could not let it go to waste. That is why we were surprised when the girls got sick on the nsima. My iron got remained fine.

So the next day, two sick girls and a old guy with a dodgy knee slowly negotiated the steep slope down the hill. Nena and Mr D, with a large backpack, did not seem to tire at all. But what was even more impressive were the guys carrying down long, thick planks of pine wood on the top of their heads. These supermen would race past, barefoot, down the steep slope like it was nothing. And what did they get for this painstaking work? $1.50 per 5 hour return trip. I will remeber this next time I think I am overworked and underpaid.

But after what seemed an endless journey, we finally arrived back at base. What a relief! Not wanting to move too quickly, we spent another day at the lodge recovering before moving on.

But one questions remained unanswered. Should we try to climb Mount Kilimanjaro in Tanzania at 5896m? The way we felt after that climb? I think not...

Lake Malawi

The trip from Mount Mulanje to Monkey Bay, on the southern tip of Lake Malawi, was a tough one. It took a couple of long walks, a few crowded minibuses (with chickens), and a full day to get there. The long bus ride north was on a crowded bus with blaring music so loud my iPod could not even drown it out. But on the plus side, we met some friendly locals, one of which proposed to Inara, before we made it to Monkey Bay. We spent a couple of days on the beach at Monkey Bay chilling our in the village and playing volleyball on the beach, while waiting for the ferry to arrive.

The MV Ilala Ferry has been running up and down Lake Malawi since 1957, despite being under constant threat of being taken out of commission for unseaworthiness. Commencing at Monkey Bay, it takes a zig zag path up the lake, pausing on the Malawian and Mozambican stops along the way. Few of these stops would have actual ports, so we would watch as smaller boats would ferry the people and their goods back and forth between the beach and the Ilala. These boats were colourful, yet cramped, and would sit precariously low in the water, but made it across safely each time.

Most of us mzungus were on the first class deck above, consisting of a spacious open deck and bar. We soon met Dan and Alice, from the UK, who later became our travel companions, making up the Fabulous Five. Over the 35 hour trip north, we spent time playing uno, chess, reading and enjoying the sunsets and sunrises over the sparkling lake. At night, we slept on the deck under the stars, watching the sparkling sky above while listening to the low drum of the motor and the wind whistling overhead.

Eventually arriving at Chizimulu Island, we took the cramped, rickety boat to shore at night, and checked into the Wakwenda Retreat. Our group, the Fabulous Five, were lucky enough to be the only guests on the island. We had this little piece of paradise to ourselves. Wakwenda Retreat was a chilled little place. Our thatch hut was only a few metres away from the freshwater lake as it lapped quietly along the sand. We ate breakfast at a small restaurant set in a baobab tree, kicked a ball around with friendly kids and swam in the cool, blue water. But the best thing about Wakwenda was the bar, built upon a rocky knoll jutting out from the bay affording great views of the sunsets or the parrafin-lights of the fishing boats at night. Stairs led down towards the water where you could go for a quick snorkel or relax in a rockpool.

We spent about 5 days in Chizimulu in the end, most just relaxing. One day we went out to see a local football game. The locals played enthusiastically, some barefoot, across the dusty, rocky pitch. However, we did not see much of the game, as were soon surrounded by dozens of grubby but gorgeous kids who were intrigued by the foreigners at the game. We were only set free when the full time whistle blue, and they all ran on the field to dance in victory with their local heroes. On another day, Dan and I circumnavigated the island on a kayak, making the 20km trip along the coastline while enjoying the views of the beaches and villages.

After 5 days, we took a stomach-churning dhow ride across the another island, Likoma. There, we stayed at Mango Drift, a chilled batch of huts sitting on a long stretch of beach. On our new patrhc of paradise, we spent most of the time simply chilling, relaxing and enjoying the stunning sunsets. Johanna also spent a good three hours getting platts in "African style" while chatting with the locals.

But the most memorable day at Likoma was the day we left the island. First we made the arduous walk across the top of the island, managing to hitch a ride with an ambulance, one of the three vehicles on the island, the last stretch. I was tempted to send a text message to my folks saying "In the back of an ambulance. Will explain later", but thought that would be too cruel. We checked out the huge St Peter's Cathedral, which seemed out of place in a small village, and watched some young locals sing with harmony and power. Then finally, we went to the beach to wait for the Ilala to arrive. As usual, groups of cute kids wandered for a closer look. While Johanna painted their fingernails, they started to sing. We were all extremely moved when these gorgeous kids chimbed in to sing the Malawian national anthem.

Talking about singing, I was also serenaded by a young, drunk, male soldier who was also waiting for the Ilala. In his inebriated state, the young guy sang "I love you Mike D" while we all laughed at his antics. The lights went out at 10pm, and the Ilala arrived at 11pm, about 5 hours late. There was a mighty scramble as the boats came in to pick us up, and in the darkness, some people fell in the water, luggage and all. We decided to wait for the craziness to subside before catching a boat back to the Ilala.

After another night on the Ilala, we got off at Nkhata Bay, and took a room on the edge of the lake. That night, we decided to head to a local bamboo hut / bar / restaurant / souvenir shop where we met the owner Kalvin, an authentic and dedicated rasta. His fourteen year old dreadlocks sat like an impressive hat on his head, his goatee was long and scraggly, and his eyes bloodshot. He could have told me he was Bob Marley's grandson, and I would have believed him. Kalvin was the real deal, activist and preacher. His demeanor was relaxed and friendly, and his voice intoxicating. He gave us a unique insight into the rastafarian movement and their beliefs, explaining how Jesus canme down as the saviour followed by Haile Selassie, the ruler, also considered to be sent by God. Kalvin believed in the Bible wholeheartedly, but with certain twists. For example, his belief was that Adam and Eve did not take an apple from the Garden of Eden, but in fact took marijuana from the tree of life, which in turn opened their eyes to the world around them. In fact, the importance of ganga was interwomen into many of his beliefs, and he saw it as necessary in opening your mind and heart to God.

At Nkhata Bay, I also had the chance to do my first freshwater lake dive. In the clear, blue waters, I watched large schools of colourful cichlids, the endemic fish in the lake, and were followed around by a large catfish. We also played with fish who swam upside down on the underside of rocks, and bumped into a mouth-breeder fish who quickly sucked her babies into her mouth for protection. It was quite different from diving in the ocean, but as always, entertaining.

Aside from that, we went on a boat trip around the lake, playing football on the beach with local kids, feeding fish eagles, cliff jumping and being fascinated by the large swarms of lake flies which look like large smoke clouds across the lake. But most of the time, we simply took it easy and relaxed at Nkhata Bay, something we got very good at going around Lake Malawi.


Leaving Malawi

From Nkhata Bay, we got the bus to Mzuzu, the largest town in the north. While Inara's backpack sat in a tray of fish in the back, we tried to avoid the chickens pecking us up front. We also got stopped at a roadblock allowing the President of Malawi to pass by in a convoy of heavy armed trucks and cars. In Mzuzu, we stayed at Mzuzuzoo, a local backpackers. After our group of mzungus had a mzuzu coffee at Mzuzuzoo in Mzuzu, we met up with Mick, an Aussie bloke who had opened up a place called the Mushroom Farm up north. We jumped in the back of this 4x4 for the trip to his joint, stopping twice as his Landrover overheated, and once ahead to wait for a truck, which was stuck on the edge of a cliff, to be towed. No travel was ever boring in Malawi.

The next morning, we awoke at Mushroom Farm to a gorgeous view over the Rift Valley with the sun rising over Lake Malawi in the distance. But the view was not the only nice thing about Mushroom Farm. The eco-retreat was pretty much self-sufficient, growing its own vegetables, getting fresh eggs from its chicken coup, and running on solar energy. Despite having a vegetarian restaurant, I have never had so much vege food and enjoyed it so much. We spent a few days at Mushroom Farm checking out some of the local villages and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere.

It then became time to leave Malawi, and begin our race north to Kigoma in Tanzania. It took a pick-up, bus, taxi and three roadblocks to make it to the border. But the police at the roadblocks were, in true Malawian style, incredibly friendly. They asked about our stay, shook our hands, and sent us through. It was a lovely farewell to a lovely country.

So what was the highlight of Malawi? Yes, the lake and islands were gorgeous, Mount Mulanje was rewarding and our visit to our sponsor kids was moving. But the highlight, without a doubt, was its people. The Malawian people were possibly the nicest people I have ever met. They were consistently honest, welcoming and gentle. When you tell a Malawian that their countrymen are friendly, they simple respond "Sure", taking great pride in being the "warm heart of Africa".

The children of Malawi were especially wonderful. They would always be happy to chat, play, laugh and flash their huge smiles at you. Everywhere we went, intrigued children would wave and smile, hold your hands while you walked, or welcome you with a polite greeting. It was wonderful, warming our hearts and bringing a smile to our faces.

I was somewhat sad to be leaving Malawi, and could have easily spent a couple more weeks there. It was probably my favourite country of this trip, and that is saying a lot.


Have uploaded some photos, but not all of them yet... Still got to update the map when we get a chance too!


Malawi Kids
Climbing Mount Mulanje
Cruising on Lake Malawi
The Gorgeous Lake Islands


July 21, 2008
Hello world travellers. Now that you have got half my family over there I hope you won't convince them to take on the travelling lifestyle that you guys have adopted.

I really hope you all have a great time and wherever your next destination, make sure you arrive there safely.

All our love.

Kiara, Talia, Anabel and Milan
July 22, 2008
It keeps sounding wonderful, very inspiring! Thanks for taking the time to write it. lots of love
July 26, 2008
How are you all, are you taking care of your new travelling companions? We miss you all, tell Booboo it's very very dangerous sitting in a crater looking at Lions or have you converted him.The boys and Frank say hello.
Love Sonia
Jan Sandell:
August 2, 2008
Hello Johanna!
It´s really nice to follow your trip on the big continent and read about your exciting journey in African countries on your web-site.
/Best wishes from your uncle Janne
de Mol family:
August 7, 2008
Jambo dear Jo and Mike, after coming home on monday I finally have some time to read about your trip in Africa. You have an amazing blog address. I read almost everything and your photos are super. I just finished putting our photos on the computer and sorted them out to start and make our Tanzania-album. We had a wonderful time, a treasure for the rest of our lives. It was very nice meeting the 2 of you and Mikes parents at Ocean Paradise in Zanzibar. We hope to see you once you are back in Europe. Enjoy the rest of your trip, I wish we were there too, but somebody has to keep the economy going. With love from Holland, Caroline, Eric, Gijs, Joep and Dirk.
July 8, 2010
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