Goodbye Africa...Hello India

Our time on this continent is winding down...only 1 more sleep in Africa! Today we fly from Livingstone, Zambia to Johannesburg, South Africa. After a sleepover in the airport we'll fly to India and arrive in Mumbai at 12:05 Thursday morning.
We decided to give Botswana a miss in order to have 3 extra weeks in India.
This past week has been an incredible ending to our time in Africa, with a good mix of relaxing and adventure. But that seems to be par for the course.
So to recap, here are the higlights of our travels so far...

• 4 day safari in the Masai Mara
• Checking out the market in chaotic Nairobi
• First minibus ride to Kimana
• Hiking Chyulu hills with the Masai, including a traditional goat meal
• Getting a ride to the Kenya-Tanzania border from two Isaeli guys, crammed in the back of their jeep
• Being called an muzungu for the first time (when it wasn't annoying yet) as we walked from the border to the closest town in Tanzania
• The 7 hr bus ride that took 10 hours to get to Dar
• Surviving the Dar bus station insanity
• Exploring the streets of Stone Town, Zanzibar and haggling for dinner at the night fish market
• Running on the beach with local kids in Bwejuu
• Meeting the workers at Neema Crafts in Iringa, where disabled people are given employment opportunities, otherwise unavailable in most of Tanzania
• Listening to the choir singing in the church next to our guesthouse window
• A hellish minibus ride from Mbeya to the Tanzania-Malawi border
• Experiencing true Malawian hospitality in Karonga with James, who drove us around to find a place to sleep and invited us to a braii (bbq) at his restaurant where we ate and drank for free
• Camping at Lake Malawi in Chitimba
• Hiking 12k up to Livingstonia for a few nights at the amazing Lukwe camp overlooking the hills
• Taking a dip in the Machewe falls...just us and our companion dog
• The best Indian food we've had so far in Mzuzu
• Self-catering in Lilongwe
• Hiking and horseback riding on the Zomba plateau (on a Fresian no less!)
• Haggling in the Zomba market for fresh bananas, mangoes, avocados, tomatoes, onion and green peppers
• Spending the weekend at Ernest's house, eating his wife Patricia's delicious mandazis and nsima, and playing with their daughter, Abigail
• Biking to and from Grace Orphan Care for a week of business lessons
• Standing on a dirt road, laughing out loud at my first marriage proposal from a lorry full of men passing by... one yelled "will you be my wife!?"
• Spending each day teaching with Victor and sharing nsima every day at lunch with the Grace gang
• Watching as the electrical work was completed at the Grace Maize Mill
• Spending 4 days sick in Blantyre - luckily it wasn't Malaria! Just a bacteria infection...and hey, we had tv and a fan with no blackouts!
• Traveling to Lusaka via bus, minibus and taxi after our flight was cancelled by AirMalawi ...because they had to do maintenance on the plane...riiiiiiiight
• Going to a movie and eating subway in uber-western Lusaka
• Jumping into Devil's pool at the edge of Vic Falls
• Canoeing with (and very quickly away from) hippos on the Zambezi river
• Rapelling down, zipping across and swinging down into the Batoka gorge...oh yeah, and hiking back out of it!

It has been one hell of a ride (in some cases, literally!) and we're better for it! We've learned a lot...but here's our top 5 favourite observations
5. We can expect to hear one or more of the following from every child we pass in some variation or another..."HELL-O!", "WHERE! ARE! YOU! GOING!?", "How are you!?", "Where you come from?", and our favourite (mostly heard in Malawi) "Give me my money!"
4. Canadians aren't the only ones using the word "eh". Everywhere we've travelled in East Africa, "eh" is a regular part of the language, whether it's Swahili, Chechewa or another tribal language. The difference is how it's used here. Often it's a deep "eh" to indicate your following along with what the other person is saying, but depending on the inflection of your voice, it could show surprise, sympathy or questioning/disbelief. We love listening to it and we will miss it!　

3. African women can carry anything, anywhere as long as they have their kangas (bright coloured fabric) to wrap their kids around their back and to cushion the load balancing on their heads, whether its a huge pail of water, a basket of mangoes or a huge bundle of firewood...oh yeah, and they do it all barefoot

2. African vehicles do not have a maximum capacity - if you can pay and force yourself and all your crap on board, you can come

And the number 1 lesson...we get it Africa...we are azungus/muzungu (white people) - thanks for the reminder EVERYDAY

The wheels on the bus...

First! Sorry for not posting in so long...getting internet in Malawi is about as easy as finding a breakfast that doesn't include french fries!

I haven't done much travel by bus in my life time. Well, I did spend my entire schooling life taking the big yellow bus from Ariss into Guelph, and I've taken the city bus a handful of times, and there was the odd bus in Europe, but NOTHING compares to bus travel in Africa. 

For definition purposes, a minibus, known as a Dalla Dalla in Tanzania, a Matola in Malawi, and a Matatu in Kenya (you know, just to add to the confusion), is a small van-like bus with improvised seating. With the driver, there are usually about 11 actual seats, but you can expect closer to 20-25 people to be crammed in...along with their crap! Including but not limited to chickens (in plastic bags or boxes), huge sacks of grain, suitcases, boxes, and the odd azungu (white person) backpack. A bus on the other hand, is what you normally picture - assigned seats, with luggage stored underneath. The latter is usually more comfortable, and more expensive, but they're both an adventure! And the adventure is not limited to the bus ride itself...it's all the interactions leading up to it, and the bus station itself when you arrive at your destination. 

First you try to get a ticket. The second you enter a bus depot, you are accosted by swarms of touts. "Sister! Sister! where to? Dar? Mbeya? Moshi?". Half the time you just got off a bus and you're only trying to get out of the madness! We're always replying "we're here! we're good!". Well, then the taxi drivers are all over you..."Brother! My brother! Where to? Taxi? Where you going!? Good price...Africa price!". 

Trying to buy a ticket the day before is hilarious. We always buy in the offices to make sure we don't get a ticket to nowhere. 

Aran - "We need a ticket to the Malawi border"

Tout - "when? Today? Yes, this way!"

Aran - "No, tomorrow"

Tout - "oh ok! NO problem, this way my brother"

Aran - "How much?"

Tout - ....pause, while he thinks about how much we're worth ... "for you my friend 7500 shillings"

Aran - "Is it is a mini bus?"

Tout - "yes, yes, mini bus"

Aran - "I don't want a mini bus"

Tout - "Oh no problem sir, it's not a mini bus...it's a big bus"

And it goes on and on like this until we've handed over our cash and our faith that indeed this little scrap of paper with our names on it will land us a bus to the border. 

On departure day, we get up early to get to the station for reporting time. Why? I don't know because the bus rarely leaves on time...it leaves when it's full!

Last week we took a bus from Lilongwe to Zomba. We arrived at 7am, bought our tickets and were told the bus would leave at 8am sharp! Well, it didn't leave until 10:30am. I can respect from an environmental perspective, that the bus doesn't go until it's full BUT that was somewhat negated by the fact that the bus was running the ENTIRE 3 HOURS we waited. Aran figures its because once they get them running they don't risk turning them off.

So finally we are on the road and then the next surprise begins...

A man gets on at the edge of the bus station, and starts to unzip a small bag, from which he removes a book. I look at Aran and say, prepare for preaching. Well, nothing could prepare me for this man! He screamed scripture in Chechewa, pacing up and down the aisle. Of course, he was passing and pausing right by me so I got full volume, along with a couple elbows to the head and kicks to my shin. There were some nice parts when he shut up and the people on the bus sang, but these moments were short-lived, and then he was back at it. I actually had visions of me throwing him out a window, and wondered to myself if I could physically do it....would people try and stop me? Just when I told myself to get over it and prepare to meditate and practice patience, he got off the bus!!

Of course, the bus made its usual 20 stops, and every one is chaos. Each town usually offers the same items from the same type of people - either all women or all men. As we approach, people charge the bus with boxes of pop, cookies, water and fanta balanced on there heads or held up on their outstretched arm. Sometimes, it's plastic bins filled with bags of chips, nuts or platters of bananas or mangoes, or roasted corns of cob on sticks. Sometimes, it's boxes filled with mandazi (donuts), samosas, or meat (they use a stick to pick up a few pieces and sell to you). Other stops are selling loaves of bread or plastic bags filled with chips (fries). The next stop might be all produce: bright orange carrots, bushels of onions, small plastic bags crammed with way too many potatoes...and at this, the women of the bus come alive! Hanging out the window, frantically bartering a price, before the bus is off again. They try to haul their purchases up into the windows. They fling their bills out the window as potatoes topple through the window onto our laps. If they don't have a window seat, they enlist their neighbour to convey their message, or to catch the huge heads of cabbage being shoved through the windows. It's an amazing experience so far and we'll see how it continues! 

I've posted some pictures from Malawi so check them out! We're at Grace Orphan Care this week teaching business and so far so good. Ernest and Victor are taking great care of us!