Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Kili
I am currently in Moshi, TZ, at the foot of Mount Kilimanjaro, I just arrived and havn't looked up yet, I need to find a place to stay. I have had a very eventful few days in Tanzania, but I have been moving too fast to record much. I just wanted to say hi and I am looking forward to coming home next week.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
So while I was in South Africa I met this cat named William. He sat next to me on the back row of a minibus on the way to Jeffreys Bay. It was a short ride, maybe 30 minutes, but he got deep pretty quickly. He told me that he was from Malawi and he was in SA trying to make money to send back to his family. Currently, his brother and sisters could not afford school fees and needed help. He said I should help them. At this point I did not plan on going through Malawi, I told him I didn’t know how I could help, we exchanged phone numbers and he jumped off in Jeffreys Bay, I continued on to the next town. William called me consistently since our meeting, about twice a week, and just asked me how my travels were going. Our conversations never lasted more than a minute. By the time I was leaving South Africa, I had pretty much decided to come to Malawi. People would randomly tell me that the lake is beautiful and the people are the best. In one conversation with William, I told him that I planned to travel through his country, he asked that I call him when I was there.
My travel to Malawi was not the best. I took a bus from Lusaka to the border town of Chipata on Sunday night. The bus arrived at about 1am, I was told I could sleep on the bus until morning. This was true, except the lights were on inside the bus the whole night as the bus was being cleaned. Not the best rest. I took a shared taxi to the border once it was light and crossed the border. I was fortunate to find a shared taxi from the border to Lilongwe, I thought I was gonna have to change taxis in the first town, which meant waiting for a car to fill up. So I got to Lilongwe early in the day, found my hostel, and got a good few hours of sleep. When I woke up mid-afternoon, my first task was to follow through on my promise to call William. I expected him to immediately give me instructions on how to find his family and help them, he simply asked how my travels were and wished me well. He called me the next night and asked where I was, I told him I was in Nkhotakota, and planned to travel to Nkhata Bay the next day. He told me his family lived in Nkhata Bay, and gave me their # and said I should call them. I told him I would call them in the morning.
This was possibly my most frustrating minibus day. I first had about a 60km ride to the town of that went fast and smooth. There I was put on a pickup truck for the first half of the remaining 130 km to Nkhata Bay. The truck was interesting, we averaged about 20 people with all types of cargo….dead fish, cooking supplies, building supplies….it was really tight, each movement to increase comfort was a risk because if the move turned out bad, the vacated space would closed, there was no going back. I was standing face to face with Vincent, we talked a bit, I was envious of his position because he was standing straight up while I was twisted and leaning against a metal bar. Then I realized he was standing on his own foot. The truck emptied gradually and we were put on a minibus for the remainder of the trip. Overall this 200km trip took about 5 hours. The frustrating part was the amount of stops. We stopped every few km, the constant starting and stopping and winding and moving and packing and unpacking got tiring. I figured it was just me, Vincent was also frustrated, he said the trip was supposed to take 2 hours from Dangwa, he must have exaggerated, it would take almost 2 hours driving with a personal vehicle, but 3 might be reasonable. Vincent works in a factory in Dangwa, he had worked from 10pm to 7am, he had the day to travel to Nkhata Bay to meet with someone, then he had to return for work that night. He told me he gets paid MK67 for a day’s work. $1=MK150. I hope I misunderstood somehow, things are inexpensive in Malawi, but that would be hard to make ends meet. I think he is in his early twenties and he still lives with his parents, so I guess living in a joint household might make the wage feasible.
So we eventually arrived in Nkhata Bay, it is a tourist town. I saw the bay from the hill entering the town, it is very small, I think there is lots of natural beauty around the town, but I didn’t see it. I was immediately pounced upon by various tourism specialists, asking where I was staying and what I planned to do and so on. They were easier than usual to push away with Vincent to walk with. I called William’s family, expecting to learn the lived just up this road, or a few km in that direction. Williams brother Harry answered, I was not able to communicate well with him, so I gave the phone to Vincent, he explained to me that they live about 60km back the way we came and Harry was waiting at the bus stop for me. My initial reaction was there was no way I was going to backtrack. We had a beer and I got a bit more perspective, I figured if this kid is waiting at the bus stop all day for me, I should show up. I did a couple things in Nkhata Bay and Vincent saw his friend. We headed back after about 3 hours, it was nice to have Vincent to return with as well to make sure I got to the right place.
I did not really know why I was meeting up with Williams family, I knew William was trying to support them from SA, I knew they didn’t have school fees, but that’s about it. The bus stop I got off at was Kande beach, I had quick farewell with Vincent, and met up with Harry. At this point I had been in Malawi for 3 days and had only seen the beautiful lake I came for from a distance. I hoped that this would be my opportunity, if “beach” was in the name of the town, they must stay by the lake. They could take me out in a canoe, show me how they fish and introduce me to their lake. Alas, we immediately turned away from the lake and walked a few km into the hills. We got to their hut just as the last light of the day was fading. On the walk up Harry explained to me the struggles of his family. We struggled to communicate, but his English was far better than my Chichewe. His parents had died about 7 years ago. His grandmother was raising the four children, three now that William is in SA. He told me he is 15, but the birthday he wrote down would have him turning 17 in October. The next sister, Avera, is turning 15 in a couple weeks, and the youngest, Azil is about 12. When I arrived at their hut, their grandmother greeted me, and through Harry, told me about their struggles. Their home is also not in great shape, it is made of brick with a tin roof, there is one bed, the roof is missing a piece, the windows are not covered, the brick is falling in some places, there was almost nothing in the hut besides clothes, they all sleep on the floor besides their Grandmother. I hadn’t really thought much about what they would ask of me when I came to visit, but it was obvious they had plans for me. I told them we would look into schools in the morning and that is how I could help them. I have thought of sponsoring a child in a poor nation on multiple occasions, it would have been so easy to just give my credit card number to an organization, but it seems I always find a difficult way of doing something.
With the business of my visit on hold until morning, I was served Nsima and fish. Nsima is made from dried Kasava, the Kasava is dried, ground then cooked in water. It think I explained Pap in SA, every region of Africa has it’s versions of this ground something type dish, sorry for my inability to describe it. I folded here. I like Nsima, but it was weird to eat it without a saucy thing. I ate a couple of the small fish, then had a few handfuls of Nsima, but I didn’t want to eat much of their food. This event will return tomorrow night. As would be expected, they didn’t really know what to do with me, my thoughts were everywhere, and I was tired from way too much time on minibuses. We talked a bit, mostly I just wanted to lay on my back and stare at the stars. I showed them my computer, they had never really used one, but there is not much to do with it. I asked what they usually do at night, the answer was go to sleep. Their Grandmother went to bed first. When I came in a while later, I was directed to her bed, she was already laying on the floor in the other room. I thought this may happen earlier, but I dismissed it, I figured there was no way an older woman would give her bed. I am always torn in these instances, I want to go along with whatever customs are present, but this seemed to much. I tried to argue, but it failed, and I was placed in the only bed in the house.
We started on our mission to sort out their schools in the morning. I thought this meant walking to the schools in Kande and paying school fees. This was not the case. The school system in Malawi is in bad shape. It seems like most children have free access to a Primary school, up through 8th grade. I don’t know much about the learning environment, but it seems the class sizes are large and the teachers are under qualified. Students have to pass exams to complete primary school, some schools have very low pass rates due to the teaching. There are not enough qualified teachers in Malawi, and because of this, the government has an abbreviated teacher training school to fill the gaps, creating more under qualified teachers. The problem is even worse at the secondary level where teachers who are not able to teach the primary school material are pushed into more advanced secondary school positions. So again, most kids have access to free primary school, and there are also private primary schools with boarding facilities which I have been told are of a better quality. It seems a small percentage get to secondary school. The government, churches(Catholic and Prebyterian are prominent in Malawi) and the private sector combine in different ways to provide secondary education. The private schools have different standards for accepting students. Some will accept them as long as they passed their exams at the end of primary school and they can pay the fees, some have other exams and performance standards. Private schools are either created by established educators, a church , or some other organization. Some are boarding, some are not. Many students find boarding near private schools that do not have facilities because secondary schools are few and far between. Now I do not completely understand the government/church relationship, but it seems that the government runs secondary schools alongside either the Catholic or Presbyterian church. Either entity can grant admission to a student, the government chooses students have performed especially well in primary school and on their exams, churches choose students who have been involved with them previously. It seems that these schools are the most desired, they provide good quality education with reasonable fees, but again, you must be chosen. So there is my attempt to explain education in Malawi.
So instead of walking down to Kande beach, I learned that we were getting on minibuses and traveling to schools in the area. There was no secondary school in Kande, and the feeling was the primary school in Kande was not very good, so we were also looking for a boarding school for Azil. Our search was very inefficient, but I had no clue where to start so I trusted Harry. Our first stop was a boarding school up by Nkhata Bay, you can imagine my excitement to travel that stretch of road again. The youngest one felt my pain, she threw up mostly out the window of the minibus, our fellow travelers were not so pleased. We got out of the minibus just before Nkhata Bay, it turned out we went too far, we had about a 45 minute walk back up the road before we found the school. So this was an all boys boarding school in the Catholic/government category, so Harry would not be admitted unless the Bishop or Minister of Education granted permission. I could go up the road another 40km to Mzuzu to make this request. The school had a non-boarding open school that only had classes for a couple hours in the afternoon, and Harry would have to find his own boarding nearby. I took all their contact information and we moved on. Our next stop was almost all the way back to Kande, there was a primary and secondary boarding school for girls in Bandawe. The primary school was easy, as long as I could pay the money, Azil could attend the school. We ran into the same problem again at the secondary school, I needed the blessing of big people in Mzuzu, this time from the Presbetery. The headmaster of the primary school was very helpful, he gave me some names of private secondary boarding schools, we called one in Mzuzu, they would need to pass an entrance exam, and the fees were a lot for me to take on. So after a day of little progress but lots of learning, we headed for home. I asked if we could stop by Kande Beach, I felt like I should at least greet the lake. I thought it must close to the road, I don’t know why I assume things. We arrived at the beach after about 45 minutes of walking. We sat for about 20 minutes. I met a man at the beach who was from Mzuzu, he recommended I go to the various offices and plead my case. We started the trek back to the road, then up the path to their hut. We arrived at with the last bits of light. I told them I would go to Mzuzu in the morning and keep trying. They served me rice because they had decided that I didn’t like Nsima. I didn’t eat enough the night before. I was upset they had made a special meal for me because I didn’t like their traditional food, I tried to convince them that I liked it, and they lied to me and said they didn’t like rice and I must eat it all. Oh well, such are the growing pains in cross cultural relationships.
I went to bed…and woke up debating how I should help them. The primary school is $300 per year for everything(fees, room, board). The government secondary schools are about the same. The expensive secondary school is about $900 for everything for a year. It is insanely cheap, but beyond my pockets right now. I decided I can drop about $1000 for the year on this, the expensive school, if they got in, would put me over $2000. There are a few other small costs as well, uniforms and supplies and the like. And then there is the house. Should I give them money to improve the house? Or are there other important needs? There is no point in paying for their education if there are other barriers that will hold them back. And then there is AIDS. Are they sexually active? Have they learned about AIDS in their primary school? Did their parents die from AIDS? Did any of them contract AIDS in utero? This is a terrible investment if they die in their twenties.
From the beginning I have thought about logic of this investment. It is risky. I don’t know this family. I don’t get the impression they excel academically. There are probably more effective ways I could invest in education in Malawi. I also hope to learn what those ways might be….so far it seems teacher training is the greatest need. But because William asked me for help on the minibus, and I told him I would see what I could do, and I ended up traveling the road right by his family, and they made me Nsima, and then rice, I am committed to helping them. It’s the kind of help I do not like to give, based on relationship instead of a thorough problem solving process. But at the same time, it is a very small amount of money, and like so many others, these people will have little ability to provide for themselves without more education. I don’t know, I will learn something from this I’m sure.
So I am typing this in Mzuzu. I took Harry with me for my favorite minibus ride to Nkhota Bay this morning. I gave him some money for costs to start school…application fees, travel, materials, whatever else. I gave him some money to improve their hut as well, it won’t last long, but hopefully it will help a bit. I spoke with him as best I could about his responsibility in this whole thing, taking care of himself and his sisters, AIDS, and how he must always be honest with me. These are tough things to communicate with the language barrier. I think we are on the same page. In the end, he said “you must trust me and I must trust you.” I jumped on a minibus to Mzuzu, he returned to Kande. My first stop in Mzuzu was the Synod of Livingstonia (the Presbetery for the region). I figured I would try to get Azera in Bandawe along with her sister. I was able to speak with the head of education, he told me we would have to wait to see if any of the invited girls failed to take their spot, then he could consider other applicants. I do not want to leave this hanging. The Synod also runs a private school southwest of Kande. It would be a 5-6 hour minibus ride for them, but it is a boarding school with a more reasonable price and acceptance seems likely. I may get information on a few other schools as well. I don’t like the idea of separating their family, but they don’t seem to have much of a problem with it, they know struggle in a way I never will, they understand further education can give them a real chance. Without it, their only option will be to subsist on kasava prepared in various forms. They told me this leaves them hungry. So no other cost or sacrifice will be considered against the opportunity for education. I spoke with a few people in the education department about my Presbyterian background, I am staying at their hostel tonight. Tomorrow, it is on to Tanzania.
My travel to Malawi was not the best. I took a bus from Lusaka to the border town of Chipata on Sunday night. The bus arrived at about 1am, I was told I could sleep on the bus until morning. This was true, except the lights were on inside the bus the whole night as the bus was being cleaned. Not the best rest. I took a shared taxi to the border once it was light and crossed the border. I was fortunate to find a shared taxi from the border to Lilongwe, I thought I was gonna have to change taxis in the first town, which meant waiting for a car to fill up. So I got to Lilongwe early in the day, found my hostel, and got a good few hours of sleep. When I woke up mid-afternoon, my first task was to follow through on my promise to call William. I expected him to immediately give me instructions on how to find his family and help them, he simply asked how my travels were and wished me well. He called me the next night and asked where I was, I told him I was in Nkhotakota, and planned to travel to Nkhata Bay the next day. He told me his family lived in Nkhata Bay, and gave me their # and said I should call them. I told him I would call them in the morning.
This was possibly my most frustrating minibus day. I first had about a 60km ride to the town of that went fast and smooth. There I was put on a pickup truck for the first half of the remaining 130 km to Nkhata Bay. The truck was interesting, we averaged about 20 people with all types of cargo….dead fish, cooking supplies, building supplies….it was really tight, each movement to increase comfort was a risk because if the move turned out bad, the vacated space would closed, there was no going back. I was standing face to face with Vincent, we talked a bit, I was envious of his position because he was standing straight up while I was twisted and leaning against a metal bar. Then I realized he was standing on his own foot. The truck emptied gradually and we were put on a minibus for the remainder of the trip. Overall this 200km trip took about 5 hours. The frustrating part was the amount of stops. We stopped every few km, the constant starting and stopping and winding and moving and packing and unpacking got tiring. I figured it was just me, Vincent was also frustrated, he said the trip was supposed to take 2 hours from Dangwa, he must have exaggerated, it would take almost 2 hours driving with a personal vehicle, but 3 might be reasonable. Vincent works in a factory in Dangwa, he had worked from 10pm to 7am, he had the day to travel to Nkhata Bay to meet with someone, then he had to return for work that night. He told me he gets paid MK67 for a day’s work. $1=MK150. I hope I misunderstood somehow, things are inexpensive in Malawi, but that would be hard to make ends meet. I think he is in his early twenties and he still lives with his parents, so I guess living in a joint household might make the wage feasible.
So we eventually arrived in Nkhata Bay, it is a tourist town. I saw the bay from the hill entering the town, it is very small, I think there is lots of natural beauty around the town, but I didn’t see it. I was immediately pounced upon by various tourism specialists, asking where I was staying and what I planned to do and so on. They were easier than usual to push away with Vincent to walk with. I called William’s family, expecting to learn the lived just up this road, or a few km in that direction. Williams brother Harry answered, I was not able to communicate well with him, so I gave the phone to Vincent, he explained to me that they live about 60km back the way we came and Harry was waiting at the bus stop for me. My initial reaction was there was no way I was going to backtrack. We had a beer and I got a bit more perspective, I figured if this kid is waiting at the bus stop all day for me, I should show up. I did a couple things in Nkhata Bay and Vincent saw his friend. We headed back after about 3 hours, it was nice to have Vincent to return with as well to make sure I got to the right place.
I did not really know why I was meeting up with Williams family, I knew William was trying to support them from SA, I knew they didn’t have school fees, but that’s about it. The bus stop I got off at was Kande beach, I had quick farewell with Vincent, and met up with Harry. At this point I had been in Malawi for 3 days and had only seen the beautiful lake I came for from a distance. I hoped that this would be my opportunity, if “beach” was in the name of the town, they must stay by the lake. They could take me out in a canoe, show me how they fish and introduce me to their lake. Alas, we immediately turned away from the lake and walked a few km into the hills. We got to their hut just as the last light of the day was fading. On the walk up Harry explained to me the struggles of his family. We struggled to communicate, but his English was far better than my Chichewe. His parents had died about 7 years ago. His grandmother was raising the four children, three now that William is in SA. He told me he is 15, but the birthday he wrote down would have him turning 17 in October. The next sister, Avera, is turning 15 in a couple weeks, and the youngest, Azil is about 12. When I arrived at their hut, their grandmother greeted me, and through Harry, told me about their struggles. Their home is also not in great shape, it is made of brick with a tin roof, there is one bed, the roof is missing a piece, the windows are not covered, the brick is falling in some places, there was almost nothing in the hut besides clothes, they all sleep on the floor besides their Grandmother. I hadn’t really thought much about what they would ask of me when I came to visit, but it was obvious they had plans for me. I told them we would look into schools in the morning and that is how I could help them. I have thought of sponsoring a child in a poor nation on multiple occasions, it would have been so easy to just give my credit card number to an organization, but it seems I always find a difficult way of doing something.
With the business of my visit on hold until morning, I was served Nsima and fish. Nsima is made from dried Kasava, the Kasava is dried, ground then cooked in water. It think I explained Pap in SA, every region of Africa has it’s versions of this ground something type dish, sorry for my inability to describe it. I folded here. I like Nsima, but it was weird to eat it without a saucy thing. I ate a couple of the small fish, then had a few handfuls of Nsima, but I didn’t want to eat much of their food. This event will return tomorrow night. As would be expected, they didn’t really know what to do with me, my thoughts were everywhere, and I was tired from way too much time on minibuses. We talked a bit, mostly I just wanted to lay on my back and stare at the stars. I showed them my computer, they had never really used one, but there is not much to do with it. I asked what they usually do at night, the answer was go to sleep. Their Grandmother went to bed first. When I came in a while later, I was directed to her bed, she was already laying on the floor in the other room. I thought this may happen earlier, but I dismissed it, I figured there was no way an older woman would give her bed. I am always torn in these instances, I want to go along with whatever customs are present, but this seemed to much. I tried to argue, but it failed, and I was placed in the only bed in the house.
We started on our mission to sort out their schools in the morning. I thought this meant walking to the schools in Kande and paying school fees. This was not the case. The school system in Malawi is in bad shape. It seems like most children have free access to a Primary school, up through 8th grade. I don’t know much about the learning environment, but it seems the class sizes are large and the teachers are under qualified. Students have to pass exams to complete primary school, some schools have very low pass rates due to the teaching. There are not enough qualified teachers in Malawi, and because of this, the government has an abbreviated teacher training school to fill the gaps, creating more under qualified teachers. The problem is even worse at the secondary level where teachers who are not able to teach the primary school material are pushed into more advanced secondary school positions. So again, most kids have access to free primary school, and there are also private primary schools with boarding facilities which I have been told are of a better quality. It seems a small percentage get to secondary school. The government, churches(Catholic and Prebyterian are prominent in Malawi) and the private sector combine in different ways to provide secondary education. The private schools have different standards for accepting students. Some will accept them as long as they passed their exams at the end of primary school and they can pay the fees, some have other exams and performance standards. Private schools are either created by established educators, a church , or some other organization. Some are boarding, some are not. Many students find boarding near private schools that do not have facilities because secondary schools are few and far between. Now I do not completely understand the government/church relationship, but it seems that the government runs secondary schools alongside either the Catholic or Presbyterian church. Either entity can grant admission to a student, the government chooses students have performed especially well in primary school and on their exams, churches choose students who have been involved with them previously. It seems that these schools are the most desired, they provide good quality education with reasonable fees, but again, you must be chosen. So there is my attempt to explain education in Malawi.
So instead of walking down to Kande beach, I learned that we were getting on minibuses and traveling to schools in the area. There was no secondary school in Kande, and the feeling was the primary school in Kande was not very good, so we were also looking for a boarding school for Azil. Our search was very inefficient, but I had no clue where to start so I trusted Harry. Our first stop was a boarding school up by Nkhata Bay, you can imagine my excitement to travel that stretch of road again. The youngest one felt my pain, she threw up mostly out the window of the minibus, our fellow travelers were not so pleased. We got out of the minibus just before Nkhata Bay, it turned out we went too far, we had about a 45 minute walk back up the road before we found the school. So this was an all boys boarding school in the Catholic/government category, so Harry would not be admitted unless the Bishop or Minister of Education granted permission. I could go up the road another 40km to Mzuzu to make this request. The school had a non-boarding open school that only had classes for a couple hours in the afternoon, and Harry would have to find his own boarding nearby. I took all their contact information and we moved on. Our next stop was almost all the way back to Kande, there was a primary and secondary boarding school for girls in Bandawe. The primary school was easy, as long as I could pay the money, Azil could attend the school. We ran into the same problem again at the secondary school, I needed the blessing of big people in Mzuzu, this time from the Presbetery. The headmaster of the primary school was very helpful, he gave me some names of private secondary boarding schools, we called one in Mzuzu, they would need to pass an entrance exam, and the fees were a lot for me to take on. So after a day of little progress but lots of learning, we headed for home. I asked if we could stop by Kande Beach, I felt like I should at least greet the lake. I thought it must close to the road, I don’t know why I assume things. We arrived at the beach after about 45 minutes of walking. We sat for about 20 minutes. I met a man at the beach who was from Mzuzu, he recommended I go to the various offices and plead my case. We started the trek back to the road, then up the path to their hut. We arrived at with the last bits of light. I told them I would go to Mzuzu in the morning and keep trying. They served me rice because they had decided that I didn’t like Nsima. I didn’t eat enough the night before. I was upset they had made a special meal for me because I didn’t like their traditional food, I tried to convince them that I liked it, and they lied to me and said they didn’t like rice and I must eat it all. Oh well, such are the growing pains in cross cultural relationships.
I went to bed…and woke up debating how I should help them. The primary school is $300 per year for everything(fees, room, board). The government secondary schools are about the same. The expensive secondary school is about $900 for everything for a year. It is insanely cheap, but beyond my pockets right now. I decided I can drop about $1000 for the year on this, the expensive school, if they got in, would put me over $2000. There are a few other small costs as well, uniforms and supplies and the like. And then there is the house. Should I give them money to improve the house? Or are there other important needs? There is no point in paying for their education if there are other barriers that will hold them back. And then there is AIDS. Are they sexually active? Have they learned about AIDS in their primary school? Did their parents die from AIDS? Did any of them contract AIDS in utero? This is a terrible investment if they die in their twenties.
From the beginning I have thought about logic of this investment. It is risky. I don’t know this family. I don’t get the impression they excel academically. There are probably more effective ways I could invest in education in Malawi. I also hope to learn what those ways might be….so far it seems teacher training is the greatest need. But because William asked me for help on the minibus, and I told him I would see what I could do, and I ended up traveling the road right by his family, and they made me Nsima, and then rice, I am committed to helping them. It’s the kind of help I do not like to give, based on relationship instead of a thorough problem solving process. But at the same time, it is a very small amount of money, and like so many others, these people will have little ability to provide for themselves without more education. I don’t know, I will learn something from this I’m sure.
So I am typing this in Mzuzu. I took Harry with me for my favorite minibus ride to Nkhota Bay this morning. I gave him some money for costs to start school…application fees, travel, materials, whatever else. I gave him some money to improve their hut as well, it won’t last long, but hopefully it will help a bit. I spoke with him as best I could about his responsibility in this whole thing, taking care of himself and his sisters, AIDS, and how he must always be honest with me. These are tough things to communicate with the language barrier. I think we are on the same page. In the end, he said “you must trust me and I must trust you.” I jumped on a minibus to Mzuzu, he returned to Kande. My first stop in Mzuzu was the Synod of Livingstonia (the Presbetery for the region). I figured I would try to get Azera in Bandawe along with her sister. I was able to speak with the head of education, he told me we would have to wait to see if any of the invited girls failed to take their spot, then he could consider other applicants. I do not want to leave this hanging. The Synod also runs a private school southwest of Kande. It would be a 5-6 hour minibus ride for them, but it is a boarding school with a more reasonable price and acceptance seems likely. I may get information on a few other schools as well. I don’t like the idea of separating their family, but they don’t seem to have much of a problem with it, they know struggle in a way I never will, they understand further education can give them a real chance. Without it, their only option will be to subsist on kasava prepared in various forms. They told me this leaves them hungry. So no other cost or sacrifice will be considered against the opportunity for education. I spoke with a few people in the education department about my Presbyterian background, I am staying at their hostel tonight. Tomorrow, it is on to Tanzania.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Wafahamu Keswahili?(sp?)
So I am at the best internet cafe I have been to in a long time, but I cannot use my flash drive, so I can't post my blogs. I am in Mbeya, Tanzania...Tanzania is the first country where I need to ask if people speak english. Now I wish I had worked harder at learning swahili. Most people still speak some english, but it would be nice to have better Swahili skills. I could have caught a train to Dar Es Salaam, which would have put me up over 30 consecutive hours of traveling, that would not have been much of a problem, but I want to see the country, and a good portion of that would have been in the dark. So I will break it up on buses and hopefully get there early afternoon on Sunday. Peace for now.
Friday, July 30, 2010
I am here, going there
Greetings family, I am currently in Mzuzu, Malawi, I may make the big move towards Tanzania today, it would be another overnight bus ride, it all depends on when the train comes through souther Tanzania to Dar es Salaam. I have many partial stories written, I just have less time to work on such things these days, I hope to be able to share them soon. Well, I am off to figure out my next move, and possibly eat.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Tuesday July 27, 2010
Sorry, I didnt have time to Edit...I am now in Nkhata Bay, but I am about to head back down sout about 60 km to find the family of a guy I met in SA...Should be interesting.
This morning I woke up in Lilongwe, the capital city of Malawi. It is a pretty laidback place, I didnt see much of it though. My next major stop is Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. I am taking this week to inch my way north along the lake and I hope to catch a train to Dar once I cross into Tanzania. So today was my first day of that journey. At about 9:30am I caught a minibus taxi to the place to catch a bigger minibus in a northwestardly direction. The town I asked for is Nkhotakota. The dot on the map appeared to be on the map and it is north of Lilongwe, so it seemed like a good first start. I sat on the minibus for a long time. It had a capacity of about 25, so it took a long time to load. I think I was about the 5th person. After an undetermined period of time I went for a walk. I lost my flashlight at the hostel in Lusaka, Im pretty sure it was stolen, but regardless, I needed a new flashlight. I started to ask around, it turns out flashlight isn’t a common term, torch was in fact the most effective word. I was pointed into the market, which was strangely hidden behind all the buildings on the block. Most markets have been pretty obvious, not this one. As usual, one shopkeeper made it his mission to meet my need. He first brought me more of a table top light with about 40 LED bulbs, I asked if he had anything smaller, he went to a couple other vendors and scared up cheap flashlight with a sticker of the American flag and Obama. He ran a hard bargain, he charged me $10 for what appears to be a sub $5 quality kmart flashlight. I don’t do much haggling at markets, I figure the few dollars I could get knocked off for the fun of it are probably important to the seller. I don’t want to get ripped off though either. His price felt like a bit of a rip off, but I went with it. I walked quickly back to the minibus, I feared somehow there was a flood of people going to Nkhotakota and they may be waiting impatiently, or have jettisoned my bag and left. There was no need to fear, my 45 minute shopping trip saw little progress. I sat back on the bus, and read, and sat. People walk by trying to sell all types of things, it’s a bit entertaining. I would buy a snack occasionally. Women selling bananas on their head didn’t like me reading. While I wasn’t reading, I guess they knew I saw them and decided not to buy. While I was reading, about four times a banana lady came up to me and announced her bananas until I looked up and declined. I guess women like attention. I would like attention as well if I could carry a huge basket of bananas on my head. For a long time now, well before this trip, I have longed to carry things on my head. It is amazing the shapes, sizes and weight of things women carry on their heads. Unfortunately, I do not think there is a society in which it would be socially acceptable for me to do this. Maybe I will just have to practice in the privacy of my own home. I didn’t watch the time, it is helpful in any way, and despite my anxieties of wasting time, I really just have to be somewhere by dark. So at some point in time, the minibus left. This minibus had a letter taped to the front window next to the registration sticker. I think the letter explained why it was still allowed on the road. There are regular police check points, sometimes they stop vehicles, other times they just wave them through. At the checkpoint on the way out of Lilongwe, they stopped our minibus. The policeman read the letter, laughed, called his partner, who also laughed, they gave the driver a hard time and eventually waved us through. At each place the vehicles may stop (police check points, larger villages to let people off…) a wave of people come up to the bus to sell stuff. Today I had an ear of corn, a variation of French fries, and a Malawi Samoosa, which just has rice in it. The Samoosa was scary though because it is orange on the outside, and I had no idea what was inside. It turned out to be tame. I got of the bus in Nkhotakota with no clue what to do. Nkhotakota is a strip of about 3 blocks of businesses, with paths going back to villages in all directions. I am guessing there are touristy lodges on the lake, but that’s where I am. I got dropped off at 16:30, too late to explore much. A couple people asked me where I was going, I told them I didn’t know, they helped me sort it out. Its nice cause this isn’t a tourist area, so everyone doesn’t expect money in return for help. I was pointed to a motel right in front of me because it was nice and had good security. I spoke to the man at the gate who told me a room was about $25, I told him it was too much, after a few more exchanges that included his friend, they walked me to a place down the street where I got a room for about $3.50. It’s simple, and as you can imagine, I am very pleased with the price. No toilet seat though. I hung out with my helper, Prince, and his friend. More his friend whose name I still need to learn, because Prince was still at work at the motel that was too expensive for me. After it had gotten dark, I decided to go rest for a bit…I read for awhile and am currently sitting here waiting for Prince to call me, hoping we can get a drink somewhere, this room is a little small to spend too many hours awake in.
So I hung out with Prince tonight, it was cool, we had a beer, played pool with an almost round cue ball, I like the bar food here, except the part where its served by kids. They walk around with a tray of food, there are only a few, one had fish, the other hard boiled eggs, and the third samoosas. I had three samoosas. On our walk back I asked Prince what time he works in the morning, he said 5am. He works 5am til 9pm everyday. He is the chef at the motel. I will try to wrap my mind around that as I go to sleep tonight.
This morning I woke up in Lilongwe, the capital city of Malawi. It is a pretty laidback place, I didnt see much of it though. My next major stop is Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. I am taking this week to inch my way north along the lake and I hope to catch a train to Dar once I cross into Tanzania. So today was my first day of that journey. At about 9:30am I caught a minibus taxi to the place to catch a bigger minibus in a northwestardly direction. The town I asked for is Nkhotakota. The dot on the map appeared to be on the map and it is north of Lilongwe, so it seemed like a good first start. I sat on the minibus for a long time. It had a capacity of about 25, so it took a long time to load. I think I was about the 5th person. After an undetermined period of time I went for a walk. I lost my flashlight at the hostel in Lusaka, Im pretty sure it was stolen, but regardless, I needed a new flashlight. I started to ask around, it turns out flashlight isn’t a common term, torch was in fact the most effective word. I was pointed into the market, which was strangely hidden behind all the buildings on the block. Most markets have been pretty obvious, not this one. As usual, one shopkeeper made it his mission to meet my need. He first brought me more of a table top light with about 40 LED bulbs, I asked if he had anything smaller, he went to a couple other vendors and scared up cheap flashlight with a sticker of the American flag and Obama. He ran a hard bargain, he charged me $10 for what appears to be a sub $5 quality kmart flashlight. I don’t do much haggling at markets, I figure the few dollars I could get knocked off for the fun of it are probably important to the seller. I don’t want to get ripped off though either. His price felt like a bit of a rip off, but I went with it. I walked quickly back to the minibus, I feared somehow there was a flood of people going to Nkhotakota and they may be waiting impatiently, or have jettisoned my bag and left. There was no need to fear, my 45 minute shopping trip saw little progress. I sat back on the bus, and read, and sat. People walk by trying to sell all types of things, it’s a bit entertaining. I would buy a snack occasionally. Women selling bananas on their head didn’t like me reading. While I wasn’t reading, I guess they knew I saw them and decided not to buy. While I was reading, about four times a banana lady came up to me and announced her bananas until I looked up and declined. I guess women like attention. I would like attention as well if I could carry a huge basket of bananas on my head. For a long time now, well before this trip, I have longed to carry things on my head. It is amazing the shapes, sizes and weight of things women carry on their heads. Unfortunately, I do not think there is a society in which it would be socially acceptable for me to do this. Maybe I will just have to practice in the privacy of my own home. I didn’t watch the time, it is helpful in any way, and despite my anxieties of wasting time, I really just have to be somewhere by dark. So at some point in time, the minibus left. This minibus had a letter taped to the front window next to the registration sticker. I think the letter explained why it was still allowed on the road. There are regular police check points, sometimes they stop vehicles, other times they just wave them through. At the checkpoint on the way out of Lilongwe, they stopped our minibus. The policeman read the letter, laughed, called his partner, who also laughed, they gave the driver a hard time and eventually waved us through. At each place the vehicles may stop (police check points, larger villages to let people off…) a wave of people come up to the bus to sell stuff. Today I had an ear of corn, a variation of French fries, and a Malawi Samoosa, which just has rice in it. The Samoosa was scary though because it is orange on the outside, and I had no idea what was inside. It turned out to be tame. I got of the bus in Nkhotakota with no clue what to do. Nkhotakota is a strip of about 3 blocks of businesses, with paths going back to villages in all directions. I am guessing there are touristy lodges on the lake, but that’s where I am. I got dropped off at 16:30, too late to explore much. A couple people asked me where I was going, I told them I didn’t know, they helped me sort it out. Its nice cause this isn’t a tourist area, so everyone doesn’t expect money in return for help. I was pointed to a motel right in front of me because it was nice and had good security. I spoke to the man at the gate who told me a room was about $25, I told him it was too much, after a few more exchanges that included his friend, they walked me to a place down the street where I got a room for about $3.50. It’s simple, and as you can imagine, I am very pleased with the price. No toilet seat though. I hung out with my helper, Prince, and his friend. More his friend whose name I still need to learn, because Prince was still at work at the motel that was too expensive for me. After it had gotten dark, I decided to go rest for a bit…I read for awhile and am currently sitting here waiting for Prince to call me, hoping we can get a drink somewhere, this room is a little small to spend too many hours awake in.
So I hung out with Prince tonight, it was cool, we had a beer, played pool with an almost round cue ball, I like the bar food here, except the part where its served by kids. They walk around with a tray of food, there are only a few, one had fish, the other hard boiled eggs, and the third samoosas. I had three samoosas. On our walk back I asked Prince what time he works in the morning, he said 5am. He works 5am til 9pm everyday. He is the chef at the motel. I will try to wrap my mind around that as I go to sleep tonight.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Quality of Life
Hey all, Sorry its been awhile, I am currently in Lilongwe, Malawi. I had a whirlwind trip around Namibia, then I went to Zambia, saw Victoria falls, then I got sick, I think I'm almost better, and that brings us up to date. I may fill in the rest later. Life moves fast on the road.
I would like to pose a question about quality of life....this is a very flawed question,of course there is not one definite answer, but I would appreciate any responses.
So what is the most influential factor in a person's quality of life?
I would like to say that the quality of an individual's relationships is the most important factor in one's quality of life.
Perhaps it is physical health, this past week I didnt care about anyone or anything, nothing else could possibly matter until I was healthy again.
You could use the hierarchy of needs...I forget how it goes...but basically a person can't think about things such as relationship until they have water and food, then safety....etc. But I think it's more complex than that.
So anyway, there is the question, choose one human need or desire and defend it as the most important factor in our quality of life. It should be 1-8 pages double spaced, size and font dont matter. Stay Well Family.
I would like to pose a question about quality of life....this is a very flawed question,of course there is not one definite answer, but I would appreciate any responses.
So what is the most influential factor in a person's quality of life?
I would like to say that the quality of an individual's relationships is the most important factor in one's quality of life.
Perhaps it is physical health, this past week I didnt care about anyone or anything, nothing else could possibly matter until I was healthy again.
You could use the hierarchy of needs...I forget how it goes...but basically a person can't think about things such as relationship until they have water and food, then safety....etc. But I think it's more complex than that.
So anyway, there is the question, choose one human need or desire and defend it as the most important factor in our quality of life. It should be 1-8 pages double spaced, size and font dont matter. Stay Well Family.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Windhoek
I am now in Namibia, I think I am going to rent a car with a few others and cruise around the country for a couple days, I have a couple posts written, but I cant use my flash drive here, I will post when I can. Not sure when the next time I will have internet access will be, but I will be in touch then. Props to Spain.
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