Lilongwe must have a close relationship with Rumphi, maybe it didn't like the way we pre-judged Rumphi, we should've sent an apology to Lilongwe too, lesson learned. Either way, Lilongwe must've been upset at us. You'd have thought we were safely back in Lilongwe, said our good-byes with Moya and should have had a nice quiet night before flying out the next day. Boy, were we wrong.
On the bus, Dan mentioned receiving a message about an incident back at the house with his roommate and a Rasta front-man son of the landlord. Details not really important, we'll get back to that. Malawi wasn't going to let us go quietly:
After spending the entire day on the bus traveling back to Lilongwe, we were hungry so we decided to go to a restaurant for dinner that Dan had mentioned previously. We took a cab from the bus depot to the restaurant. The restaurant was not located in an area from which it would be easy to hail a cab, so we asked the cab driver to return in about an hour to drive us the rest of the way to the house. I don't think the cab driver understood what Dan was saying. Anyway, I don't remember what the specialty at the restaurant is but once we walked in the doors, the power went out, Lilongwe was laughing. (Fortunately, they had some food cooked, it was something).
We waited around awhile after dinner for the cab driver to return. He never did. So we made out on our own. On the way out to find a ride, Katy puts one foot in a gaping gutter and fell flat on her face bruising both knees and scraping up both hands pretty bad. Katy fought back tears.
Dan negotiated with the driver of a flat-bed truck who was parked next to an adjacent gas station to take us the rest of the way to the house. It worked out pretty well actually.
So this brings me back to the incident at the house while we were away. Like I said, details of what happened aren't too important, I really don't remember. The important part is that there was some sort of altercation and the guy from the VSO who was renting the house decided, without consulting Dan, to move everything out of the house, including all of the mattresses. Lucky for Dan, he had locked his door and there was still one twin mattress.
After all of that, we thought we would have to sleep on the linoleum floor without blankets or any other cushion for our last night in Malawi. Very compassionately, Noel, who worked at the house, lent us a foam mattress and blanket for the night for Katy, Ryan, and me. He insisted his family didn't use the mattress themselves, but I have my doubts. Thank you Noel!
Malawi had one more surprise in store for us, however: our flight from Lilongwe to Joburg. Someone wasn't feeling well on the flight before us, not feeling well at all, not feeling well at all and sitting in the last row. We were sitting in the 2nd to the last row. It didn't smell very good, like the smelly guy sitting on the bus but a little worse. (RS: They threw a blanket over it and sprayed some air freshener, but that was about it. Jon, Katy, and I were sitting as close to the mess as anyone on the plane could sit.)
Later Lilongwe.
Showing posts with label Malawi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Malawi. Show all posts
26 May 2007
Tail Between Our Legs
It's been such a long time since I've put together a post, I've forgotten where we left off, maybe someone will refresh my memory ...
Oh yes, that's right, we're still in Rumphi, we're still hours from Lilongwe, it's now Saturday and we need to get back for our Sunday flights. We're fine, we have the entire day ... what was that? Shoot, I forgot we don't have a vehicle.
So here we are, still in Rumphi, merely a couple hundred miles away from Lilongwe, we got up super early to start our day, we'll be fine. First leg, Rumphi to Mzuzu.
If anyone has been in a developing country, you've probably seen them, the small mini-vans that whiz around towns, packed to the gills (I had to look up the origin of this expression, amazingly, not in Wikipedia), yes, I know you've seen them before, I have too. We've all seen them but how many of us have actually been in one? Wow, I'm impressed. I've never been in one myself, not until this day.
Let me back up. The night before, we were discussing our options with how to return to Lilongwe. Since another rental was not an option, it was down to public transportation, either bus or even possibly renting out and entire mini-bus for our trip. What we decided to start was we had to at least get to Mzuzu, a slightly large city that has a bus depot and then figure out our options from there.
So here we are, with our bags bulging out the back, we pile into the bus, the 5 of us and 15 others for a total of 20. We were like clowns in a VW Bug. And I thought our prior sleeping arrangement were close quarters, at least it was only for an hour. Here's a look inside:
That was taken from the last row, me and Dan are sitting in the opposite facing seats, like the seats in the first couple rows of a Southwest flight, except much tighter.
We arrive in Mzuzu and are delighted to find that a bus to Lilongwe was still at the depot. The night before, we thought the bus would depart too early but we discover that much like traffic signals, bus schedules are suggestive too. The buses depart only when full and fortunately, it wasn't full but close enough that we didn't have to wait too long. About an hour later, we're on our way. Here we are in our seats, in the very rear of the bus:
Did I mention the engine was beneath our seats? It was rather warm but we did very well, just happy to be heading in the right direction. We met some people on the bus, played some cards and made fun of Ryan.
RS: Playing cards without a table:
7 hours later, we finally made it back to Lilongwe sans Hilux.
We did have to say good-bye to Moya. I don't know where we would've been if it wasn't for Moya.
Thank you Moya!
Moya and Daniel
Oh yes, that's right, we're still in Rumphi, we're still hours from Lilongwe, it's now Saturday and we need to get back for our Sunday flights. We're fine, we have the entire day ... what was that? Shoot, I forgot we don't have a vehicle.
So here we are, still in Rumphi, merely a couple hundred miles away from Lilongwe, we got up super early to start our day, we'll be fine. First leg, Rumphi to Mzuzu.
If anyone has been in a developing country, you've probably seen them, the small mini-vans that whiz around towns, packed to the gills (I had to look up the origin of this expression, amazingly, not in Wikipedia), yes, I know you've seen them before, I have too. We've all seen them but how many of us have actually been in one? Wow, I'm impressed. I've never been in one myself, not until this day.
Let me back up. The night before, we were discussing our options with how to return to Lilongwe. Since another rental was not an option, it was down to public transportation, either bus or even possibly renting out and entire mini-bus for our trip. What we decided to start was we had to at least get to Mzuzu, a slightly large city that has a bus depot and then figure out our options from there.
So here we are, with our bags bulging out the back, we pile into the bus, the 5 of us and 15 others for a total of 20. We were like clowns in a VW Bug. And I thought our prior sleeping arrangement were close quarters, at least it was only for an hour. Here's a look inside:
That was taken from the last row, me and Dan are sitting in the opposite facing seats, like the seats in the first couple rows of a Southwest flight, except much tighter.
We arrive in Mzuzu and are delighted to find that a bus to Lilongwe was still at the depot. The night before, we thought the bus would depart too early but we discover that much like traffic signals, bus schedules are suggestive too. The buses depart only when full and fortunately, it wasn't full but close enough that we didn't have to wait too long. About an hour later, we're on our way. Here we are in our seats, in the very rear of the bus:
Did I mention the engine was beneath our seats? It was rather warm but we did very well, just happy to be heading in the right direction. We met some people on the bus, played some cards and made fun of Ryan.
RS: Playing cards without a table:
7 hours later, we finally made it back to Lilongwe sans Hilux.
We did have to say good-bye to Moya. I don't know where we would've been if it wasn't for Moya.
Thank you Moya!
Moya and Daniel25 May 2007
The Midas Touch
So Mellissa and I drove back to Matuhnka to pick up a tow bar. Mellissa and the two Dutchmen stayed behind while the training mechanic and I drove back to pick up Dan and the Hilux in an old, open-aired, Landrover jeep. I sat on the bench in the back holding the tow bar.
The tow bar is a hollow iron tube about eight feet in length that connects on one end to a hitch and has on the other end an eye through which you can string rope to connect to the car you want to tow.
I really enjoyed the ride down the hill. The sun had cast a spectacular scene across the valley we were driving through, the temperature was perfect, and I was taking it all in in the open air. It doesn't get much better than that.
This gives you a sense of the valley scene:
When we got down to the mechanic's yard, we started to connect the tow bar to the Hilux. The mechanic connected the bar to the hitch on the back of the jeep, and then used rope to tie the bar to the underside of the HIlux. He was a little too close to the Hilux, so he got in the jeep to move forward a bit.
The problem was, the jeep would not start.
Great. Well, at least we're in the right spot to break down.
The mechanic toyed around with the battery connection but to no avail. We disconnected the tow bar so we could push start the thing. We were on an incline so we tried rolling the car backwards to get it going in reverse.
A heave and a ho and a . . . that didn't work. We pushed it up the hill to try it again. No luck.
It had started raining and I started feeling a bit desperate. Would nothing work on this trip? We're on a dirt lot so if we don't get the Landrover up and running soon we're not going to be able to tow the Hilux out of the mud.
Okay, so we'll try push starting the jeep on more level ground; we'll push it side to side. A number of guys who were hanging around the side of the road came over to help.
We pushed it one way. Nothing. We pushed it back. Nothing. We tried the downhill trick again but this time facing forward. Nothing. We pushed the jeep back up the hill to try again. Finally, on the sixth attempt, we got the Landrover to start.
Okay, now let's see if we can tow the Hilux.
We reconnected the tow bar to the jeep and tied it to the Hilux. Dan got in the HIlux to steer and off we . . .
Nope. The rope broke.
Dan got out to tell the driver that this wasn't going to work. Apparently, they tried the same thing the night before when towing the Hilux back up to town and the rope broke every time. The mechanic said, don't worry, we'll double tie it this time.
So they double tied it and sure enough, we got the Hilux moving.
What a relief. I was really looking forward to getting back so that we all could hang out and enjoy a meal together for the first time since leaving Nyika a day and a half ago. We drove the Hilux to the gate of Matuhnka, turned right towards the gate, and, without warning, we were cut off by a an open bed truck passing us on the right. (Remember, we're driving on the left hand side of the road, so the right turn is like a left turn - it's as if you were making a left hand turn and someone from behind passed you on the left just as you were turning).
Thankfully the mechanic slammed on the brakes in time to avoid a collision. The Hilux couldn't do the same, however; its momentum carried it towards the jeep. The Hilux would have slammed into the jeep had the tow bar not jerked it back in place. While this was good for the cars, it was bad for the tow bar. It bent backwards, creating a major crease near the end of the bar. We were extremely lucky that the bar didn't rip apart during the rest of our ascent to the guest house.
I felt so bad. The NGO folks had done us an enormous favor by helping us sort out our car situation and allowing us to store the Hilux on their grounds. They lent us their tow bar to bring the Hilux back up the hill, and what did we do? We broke the damn thing.
Granted, it wasn't entirely our fault, but everything we touched seemed to turn to . . . well, something other than gold.
http://www.whatihaveread.net/i/0022.jpg
The tow bar is a hollow iron tube about eight feet in length that connects on one end to a hitch and has on the other end an eye through which you can string rope to connect to the car you want to tow.
I really enjoyed the ride down the hill. The sun had cast a spectacular scene across the valley we were driving through, the temperature was perfect, and I was taking it all in in the open air. It doesn't get much better than that.
This gives you a sense of the valley scene:
When we got down to the mechanic's yard, we started to connect the tow bar to the Hilux. The mechanic connected the bar to the hitch on the back of the jeep, and then used rope to tie the bar to the underside of the HIlux. He was a little too close to the Hilux, so he got in the jeep to move forward a bit.
The problem was, the jeep would not start.
Great. Well, at least we're in the right spot to break down.
The mechanic toyed around with the battery connection but to no avail. We disconnected the tow bar so we could push start the thing. We were on an incline so we tried rolling the car backwards to get it going in reverse.
A heave and a ho and a . . . that didn't work. We pushed it up the hill to try it again. No luck.
It had started raining and I started feeling a bit desperate. Would nothing work on this trip? We're on a dirt lot so if we don't get the Landrover up and running soon we're not going to be able to tow the Hilux out of the mud.
Okay, so we'll try push starting the jeep on more level ground; we'll push it side to side. A number of guys who were hanging around the side of the road came over to help.
We pushed it one way. Nothing. We pushed it back. Nothing. We tried the downhill trick again but this time facing forward. Nothing. We pushed the jeep back up the hill to try again. Finally, on the sixth attempt, we got the Landrover to start.
Okay, now let's see if we can tow the Hilux.
We reconnected the tow bar to the jeep and tied it to the Hilux. Dan got in the HIlux to steer and off we . . .
Nope. The rope broke.
Dan got out to tell the driver that this wasn't going to work. Apparently, they tried the same thing the night before when towing the Hilux back up to town and the rope broke every time. The mechanic said, don't worry, we'll double tie it this time.
So they double tied it and sure enough, we got the Hilux moving.
What a relief. I was really looking forward to getting back so that we all could hang out and enjoy a meal together for the first time since leaving Nyika a day and a half ago. We drove the Hilux to the gate of Matuhnka, turned right towards the gate, and, without warning, we were cut off by a an open bed truck passing us on the right. (Remember, we're driving on the left hand side of the road, so the right turn is like a left turn - it's as if you were making a left hand turn and someone from behind passed you on the left just as you were turning).
Thankfully the mechanic slammed on the brakes in time to avoid a collision. The Hilux couldn't do the same, however; its momentum carried it towards the jeep. The Hilux would have slammed into the jeep had the tow bar not jerked it back in place. While this was good for the cars, it was bad for the tow bar. It bent backwards, creating a major crease near the end of the bar. We were extremely lucky that the bar didn't rip apart during the rest of our ascent to the guest house.
I felt so bad. The NGO folks had done us an enormous favor by helping us sort out our car situation and allowing us to store the Hilux on their grounds. They lent us their tow bar to bring the Hilux back up the hill, and what did we do? We broke the damn thing.
Granted, it wasn't entirely our fault, but everything we touched seemed to turn to . . . well, something other than gold.
http://www.whatihaveread.net/i/0022.jpg
Tale of Two Cities
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was an afternoon to drink beers, play cards, and read magazines in the comfort of a shaded, guest home oasis, it was an afternoon to haggle with a jumble of amateur and professional mechanics in an exposed dirt yard over a disassembled mess of automobile that no one could manage to start."
I'm not sure who wrote that, but I've always liked it.
It was now about 3:00 p.m. and Dan still wasn't back. It was clear the car was irremediably broken and that we'd be spending another night in Rumphi. It was also clear that we needed to change course because we had to get back to Lilongwe to catch our flights the following morning.
So we struck up a conversation with one of the directors of the NGO to see if we could borrow her cell to call Dan. She told us that it wasn't safe to have our car worked on by mechanics in town because they don't have the diagnostic equipment to recognize the problem, they don't have the parts necessary to fix a problem if they do recognize it, and they aren't particularly well trained to fix the problem in the first place. She opined that we were likely to find our car in worse shape than when we left it. For that reason, she said, they don't trust their own vehicles with the mechanics down the hill. They have all of their vehicles serviced on the premises.
Part of the NGO's occupational training program included a mechanic's yard. As luck would have it, the Dutch mechanic they use to train their students was in town for the month. She suggested that maybe he could go down to town with us and assess the situation with our car.
About fifteen minutes later, the other director of the NGO, the Dutch mechanic, and a local student offered to drive us down to check out what was going on with the car. Mellissa and I jumped in the car with them while Jon and Katy stayed behind.
When we reached the mechanic's yard where our car was sitting in shambles, we spotted Dan with his face in his hands sitting by the side of the road. This had not been a good day for him.
We walked up to the car to witness quite a scene. It wasn't just the two mechanics we saw the night before working on the vehicle. There were probably eight to ten guys huddled around the car pointing and arguing and taking things apart. I believe that three were actually affiliated with that mechanics yard and the others, as far as I could tell, were passersby who had taken an interest in our vehicle and stuck around to offer their own opinion on the matter.
We all got out and walked up to the front of the car to talk to the mechanics. The front bumper was completely removed, the radiator was on the ground as were a few other engine components that I didn't recognize.
The guys from the NGO had a look at the engine and walked around the car to talk to everyone there. I walked around to the passenger's side of the car (left-hand side in this case) where a mechanic (I think) was sitting in the front seat taking apart some electrical device.
The Dutch mechanic turned to me and said, "look at what this guy is doing right here. What he's doing there has nothing to do with what's mechanically wrong with the engine. I don't know what he's doing. Maybe he's swapping out pieces from your car for resale. I don't know."
My stomach dropped. I started to view our situation in an entirely different light. We had trusted these mechanics to help us out. We believed that Moya would find us someone to be honest and fair with us. Now, I felt like we were being had for the clumsy, rich, and stupid Americans that we were in that moment.
So I walked up to Dan and told him that we needed to get the hell out of there. We had to call the owner of the car and tell him there was nothing we could do to get the thing running and that we were going to have to leave it in Rumphi for him to retrieve. The folks at the NGO were kind enough to let us leave the car at their facility, so we could tell the owner he had his choice of leaving the car with the mechanics or leaving it at the NGO. Dan agreed. The poor guy was so worn down he probably would have agreed to anything.
Dan called the owner and made the arrangements. Mellissa and I were to return to the NGO to pick up a towing bar to bring the Hilux up the hill. Dan would stay behind, settle up with the mechanics, and then walk over to the minibus depot to inquire with a minibus driver about the cost of renting out an entire minibus to take us all the way back to Lilongwe the next day.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch . . . .
JP: Katy and Jon are enjoying tea and afternoon snacks over a game of gin rummy.
I'm not sure who wrote that, but I've always liked it.
It was now about 3:00 p.m. and Dan still wasn't back. It was clear the car was irremediably broken and that we'd be spending another night in Rumphi. It was also clear that we needed to change course because we had to get back to Lilongwe to catch our flights the following morning.
So we struck up a conversation with one of the directors of the NGO to see if we could borrow her cell to call Dan. She told us that it wasn't safe to have our car worked on by mechanics in town because they don't have the diagnostic equipment to recognize the problem, they don't have the parts necessary to fix a problem if they do recognize it, and they aren't particularly well trained to fix the problem in the first place. She opined that we were likely to find our car in worse shape than when we left it. For that reason, she said, they don't trust their own vehicles with the mechanics down the hill. They have all of their vehicles serviced on the premises.
Part of the NGO's occupational training program included a mechanic's yard. As luck would have it, the Dutch mechanic they use to train their students was in town for the month. She suggested that maybe he could go down to town with us and assess the situation with our car.
About fifteen minutes later, the other director of the NGO, the Dutch mechanic, and a local student offered to drive us down to check out what was going on with the car. Mellissa and I jumped in the car with them while Jon and Katy stayed behind.
When we reached the mechanic's yard where our car was sitting in shambles, we spotted Dan with his face in his hands sitting by the side of the road. This had not been a good day for him.
We walked up to the car to witness quite a scene. It wasn't just the two mechanics we saw the night before working on the vehicle. There were probably eight to ten guys huddled around the car pointing and arguing and taking things apart. I believe that three were actually affiliated with that mechanics yard and the others, as far as I could tell, were passersby who had taken an interest in our vehicle and stuck around to offer their own opinion on the matter.
We all got out and walked up to the front of the car to talk to the mechanics. The front bumper was completely removed, the radiator was on the ground as were a few other engine components that I didn't recognize.
The guys from the NGO had a look at the engine and walked around the car to talk to everyone there. I walked around to the passenger's side of the car (left-hand side in this case) where a mechanic (I think) was sitting in the front seat taking apart some electrical device.
The Dutch mechanic turned to me and said, "look at what this guy is doing right here. What he's doing there has nothing to do with what's mechanically wrong with the engine. I don't know what he's doing. Maybe he's swapping out pieces from your car for resale. I don't know."
My stomach dropped. I started to view our situation in an entirely different light. We had trusted these mechanics to help us out. We believed that Moya would find us someone to be honest and fair with us. Now, I felt like we were being had for the clumsy, rich, and stupid Americans that we were in that moment.
So I walked up to Dan and told him that we needed to get the hell out of there. We had to call the owner of the car and tell him there was nothing we could do to get the thing running and that we were going to have to leave it in Rumphi for him to retrieve. The folks at the NGO were kind enough to let us leave the car at their facility, so we could tell the owner he had his choice of leaving the car with the mechanics or leaving it at the NGO. Dan agreed. The poor guy was so worn down he probably would have agreed to anything.
Dan called the owner and made the arrangements. Mellissa and I were to return to the NGO to pick up a towing bar to bring the Hilux up the hill. Dan would stay behind, settle up with the mechanics, and then walk over to the minibus depot to inquire with a minibus driver about the cost of renting out an entire minibus to take us all the way back to Lilongwe the next day.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch . . . .
JP: Katy and Jon are enjoying tea and afternoon snacks over a game of gin rummy.
Oh Dearest Rumphi, Please Forgive Us, We Had You All Wrong
Dearest Rumphi,
Please forgive us, we had you all wrong. Maybe we caught you on a bad day, but we were still too quick to make judgment. There is more to you than hospitals, no running water and food and full hotels. But after meeting Moya, we should've known you had much more too offer.
Thank you for not holding it against us. Please accept our sincerest apologies.
Cheese on Toast, Lemon Squeezy, Science, Katy and Jon
----------------
It's amazing how quickly things can change, especially while traveling. After one of the longest and most interesting days of our lives, we awake to find ourselves safe, clean (hot showers) and surprisingly well-rested (considering our sleeping arrangement).
Despite the difficulty with finding lodging, we end up at what has to be the best place to stay in Rumphi, Mutunkha Centre for Orphan Care, an orphanage and vocational school for boys that has a guest house; it's an NGO run by a very patient and understanding Dutch couple. Our Rumphi oasis.
Minus Dan, we begin the day with a tasty English breakfast and our first meal in 24 hours:
Now with the sun up, we discover that we're near the top of this hill overlooking a little valley that could be mistaken for California wine country, tranquil and beautiful, the only thing missing were vineyards. Not a bad way to start our day, good spirits once again, but there were still a number of unknowns for the rest of the day:
and not where we were last night ...
Please forgive us, we had you all wrong. Maybe we caught you on a bad day, but we were still too quick to make judgment. There is more to you than hospitals, no running water and food and full hotels. But after meeting Moya, we should've known you had much more too offer.
Thank you for not holding it against us. Please accept our sincerest apologies.
Cheese on Toast, Lemon Squeezy, Science, Katy and Jon
----------------
It's amazing how quickly things can change, especially while traveling. After one of the longest and most interesting days of our lives, we awake to find ourselves safe, clean (hot showers) and surprisingly well-rested (considering our sleeping arrangement).
Despite the difficulty with finding lodging, we end up at what has to be the best place to stay in Rumphi, Mutunkha Centre for Orphan Care, an orphanage and vocational school for boys that has a guest house; it's an NGO run by a very patient and understanding Dutch couple. Our Rumphi oasis.Minus Dan, we begin the day with a tasty English breakfast and our first meal in 24 hours:
Now with the sun up, we discover that we're near the top of this hill overlooking a little valley that could be mistaken for California wine country, tranquil and beautiful, the only thing missing were vineyards. Not a bad way to start our day, good spirits once again, but there were still a number of unknowns for the rest of the day:- Where's Danny? How's he doing?
- Will the Hilux get fixed?
- Another night at Mutunhka?
- Will we make it to Nhkata Bay?
- Will we make it to Lilongwe?
and not where we were last night ...
24 May 2007
Rumphi, Malawi: Continues to Lack in the Milk and Honey Departments
We had perused the Rumphi section of our Lonely Planet guide and noticed there weren't a whole lot of options for places to stay. The first place recommended was a guest house that Dan and Mellissa had stayed before when they were in town for Dan's research. They said it was pretty small but clean enough. We're not all that picky at this point.
So the mechanics dropped Mellissa, Moya, Jon, Katy, and me off with all of our stuff at the guest house. The front area was a pleasant outdoor space where a few people seemed to be enjoying a drink or two. It looked promising. The "lobby" wasn't as inviting. It was illuminated by a harsh green florescent light and contained a single couch and chair in an otherwise barren room.
We walked up to the attendant. "Are you still serving food outside?" No. "Okay, well, we're five people. Do you have any rooms to accomodate us?" No, we're completely booked.
Great.
No fear, Moya was on the case. He said he knew of another guest house down the road. He told us to hang out in the "lobby" with our bags while he checked whether the other place had any rooms available.
About fifteen minutes later Moya returned. The other place had no space for us. He also tried another place but to no avail. He knew of one other place that was a little bit out of town. He said would try to get a hold of them by phone. He went outside to make a call.
I thought we were going to have to plead with the guy up front to let us sleep on the couch and floor of the lobby. At this point, that idea did not particularly bother me. I was tired and wanted this day to be over.
Moya came back after another five to ten minutes or so. He said he finally got a hold of this place outside of town. They were sleeping over there but his calls eventually got someone out of bed. Thankfully, they had rooms for us.
So Moya hooked us up again by grabbing a friend of his from the bar we were in earlier in the day for lunch to drive us up to this place we would stay: Matunkha.
So the mechanics dropped Mellissa, Moya, Jon, Katy, and me off with all of our stuff at the guest house. The front area was a pleasant outdoor space where a few people seemed to be enjoying a drink or two. It looked promising. The "lobby" wasn't as inviting. It was illuminated by a harsh green florescent light and contained a single couch and chair in an otherwise barren room.
We walked up to the attendant. "Are you still serving food outside?" No. "Okay, well, we're five people. Do you have any rooms to accomodate us?" No, we're completely booked.
Great.
No fear, Moya was on the case. He said he knew of another guest house down the road. He told us to hang out in the "lobby" with our bags while he checked whether the other place had any rooms available.
About fifteen minutes later Moya returned. The other place had no space for us. He also tried another place but to no avail. He knew of one other place that was a little bit out of town. He said would try to get a hold of them by phone. He went outside to make a call.
I thought we were going to have to plead with the guy up front to let us sleep on the couch and floor of the lobby. At this point, that idea did not particularly bother me. I was tired and wanted this day to be over.
Moya came back after another five to ten minutes or so. He said he finally got a hold of this place outside of town. They were sleeping over there but his calls eventually got someone out of bed. Thankfully, they had rooms for us.
So Moya hooked us up again by grabbing a friend of his from the bar we were in earlier in the day for lunch to drive us up to this place we would stay: Matunkha.
Too Much Tyson
It's dark, it's late, we're tired, our car is broken, and we have no idea how to fix it. At the mechanics' direction, we rolled the dormant hunk of metal to a dirt area in front of a general store about twenty yards off the road.
Now, I think I was the one in the group most bothered by our situation in front of this general store, which is why I've been charged with writing this post. I admit that I tend to get a little paranoid, but I think objectively, this was not a good scene.
When we pulled up, there were a number of guys hanging around the general store drinking a local brand of firewater called Tyson. A handful of these was clearly drunk. One guy was doing a hip gyrating dance on the steps of the store. Another guy was stumbling around in a daze and slurring his speech.
We were now positioned inside a community of residences and little stores. The surrounding structures made us invisible from the road. So there we were from about 9:00 p.m. to 11:30 p.m.: a group of five muzungus -- one of which of Chinese heritage, which is even more exotic to Malawians -- in our fancy car with all of our money, passports, and other gear in the back, with a broken engine affording us no way to leave, in a tiny community about five miles outside a small town in a remote area of Northern Malawi, one of the five poorest countries in the world, surrounded by a number of guys who were getting piss drunk off of a local firewater, and situated in a spot where no one could see us from the road. What's the expression: like a keg of gun powder? I always screw up idiomatic expressions.
Anyway, I was comforted by the fact that we had Moya in our corner, who was very good with people. However, I feared that he could be easily overwhelmed. I had already gotten the sense that some people didn't take kindly to the fact that he was helping us. When we were still up on the side of the road, one guy came over to ask for money and Moya told him to keep on walking or something to that effect. While the guy was walking away he yelled to Moya in broken English (so that the rest of us could understand) something about how Moya thought that us white people were god. That exchange was in the forefront of my mind while I was watching Moya calm down a drunk guy who started jarring with one of the mechanics.
Luckily, nothing precipitated out of this potentially dangerous situation, but I was on edge the whole time. At one point, one of the drunk guys came to sit down on the step next to Mellissa and Katy. His balance failed him and he fell off the ledge. When Mellissa declared "too much Tyson," he asked her to repeat what she said. So she said it again. He started busting up laughing like this was the funniest thing he had ever heard in his whole life. Good. He's happy drunk.
So back to the car. The mechanics couldn't figure out what was wrong. They poked and prodded and turned the ignition but to no avail. Eventually they figured it was an electrical problem. Well, they weren't trained in electrical work but they knew a guy in town who was. Around 10:00 p.m. they gave this guy a call.
He showed up about forty-five minutes later with a crew of another three or four. They all looked at the car but couldn't figure out what was wrong. So we devised a plan: all of us except Dan would go back with the electrical mechanic's crew to find a place to stay in Rumphi for the night. One of the mechanics was going to grab a tow bar and return to tow the Hilux back to the mechanic's shop for more tests the next morning. Like the good captain of a sinking ship, Dan stayed behind with the car.
So Katy, Mellissa, Moya, Jon, and I hopped in the bed of a truck and headed back up the road to Rumphi.
Now, I think I was the one in the group most bothered by our situation in front of this general store, which is why I've been charged with writing this post. I admit that I tend to get a little paranoid, but I think objectively, this was not a good scene.
When we pulled up, there were a number of guys hanging around the general store drinking a local brand of firewater called Tyson. A handful of these was clearly drunk. One guy was doing a hip gyrating dance on the steps of the store. Another guy was stumbling around in a daze and slurring his speech.
We were now positioned inside a community of residences and little stores. The surrounding structures made us invisible from the road. So there we were from about 9:00 p.m. to 11:30 p.m.: a group of five muzungus -- one of which of Chinese heritage, which is even more exotic to Malawians -- in our fancy car with all of our money, passports, and other gear in the back, with a broken engine affording us no way to leave, in a tiny community about five miles outside a small town in a remote area of Northern Malawi, one of the five poorest countries in the world, surrounded by a number of guys who were getting piss drunk off of a local firewater, and situated in a spot where no one could see us from the road. What's the expression: like a keg of gun powder? I always screw up idiomatic expressions.
Anyway, I was comforted by the fact that we had Moya in our corner, who was very good with people. However, I feared that he could be easily overwhelmed. I had already gotten the sense that some people didn't take kindly to the fact that he was helping us. When we were still up on the side of the road, one guy came over to ask for money and Moya told him to keep on walking or something to that effect. While the guy was walking away he yelled to Moya in broken English (so that the rest of us could understand) something about how Moya thought that us white people were god. That exchange was in the forefront of my mind while I was watching Moya calm down a drunk guy who started jarring with one of the mechanics.
Luckily, nothing precipitated out of this potentially dangerous situation, but I was on edge the whole time. At one point, one of the drunk guys came to sit down on the step next to Mellissa and Katy. His balance failed him and he fell off the ledge. When Mellissa declared "too much Tyson," he asked her to repeat what she said. So she said it again. He started busting up laughing like this was the funniest thing he had ever heard in his whole life. Good. He's happy drunk.
So back to the car. The mechanics couldn't figure out what was wrong. They poked and prodded and turned the ignition but to no avail. Eventually they figured it was an electrical problem. Well, they weren't trained in electrical work but they knew a guy in town who was. Around 10:00 p.m. they gave this guy a call.
He showed up about forty-five minutes later with a crew of another three or four. They all looked at the car but couldn't figure out what was wrong. So we devised a plan: all of us except Dan would go back with the electrical mechanic's crew to find a place to stay in Rumphi for the night. One of the mechanics was going to grab a tow bar and return to tow the Hilux back to the mechanic's shop for more tests the next morning. Like the good captain of a sinking ship, Dan stayed behind with the car.
So Katy, Mellissa, Moya, Jon, and I hopped in the bed of a truck and headed back up the road to Rumphi.
Have Radiator, Will Travel
So we pushed the Hilux over to the side of the road. The car was billowing smoke from under the hood. Our troubles garnered the immediate attention of everyone at the intersection. One guy started yelling "konnichi wa!" to Jon in a harassing tone that I didn't much care for and that bothered Jon as well.
After we managed to get the car off to the side of the road, a number of people came by to see what was the matter with our smoking engine. Dan related to us that when he had broken down in a different vehicle a few months earlier in Lilongwe, some of the people who came to offer their assistance expected compensation for their efforts. To stem any prospective requests here, Dan firmly told the passersby that while he appreciated their concern for our predicament, we were not in need of their help.
We examined the front of the Hilux and saw that it was leaking water. The epoxy didn't hold.
So we waited for the car to cool down and, after awhile, added more water to the radiator. Jon, stepping out of his adopted role as decisional agnostic, strongly advocated for restarting the car and pushing on. His idea was that we could carefully monitor the temperature gauge and pull over periodically to add water to the radiator as needed. Dan favored going to Rumphi to have the holes in the radiator fixed permanently with epoxy and a blow torch. In the end, we didn't have the option of doing either.
After the engine cooled for a good half hour, we refilled the radiator with water and tried to restart the car. Nothing. Not even a wimper.
At this point, I knew the car was kaput.
Dan resolved to elicit help from a friend he had met while doing research in Rumphi a few months earlier. He had hired a guy named Moya to help translate Dan's field research questions and help analyze the data they collected. Moya was well connected in Rumphi, so well connected in fact, that he was set to run for local political office in the next election cycle. Dan knew that Moya could recommend a mechanic.
Let me pause here for a second to give Moya all the thanks he is due. First, here's a picture of him with Squeezy:
Moya saved us that day, pure and simple. Without him, things would have ended far worse for us, I'm quite certain of that. If you see this man, you should shake his hand and maybe push him a few soft dollars for his political campaign. McCain and Feingold don't need to know nothing about it, if you know what I mean . . .
So Dan called Moya who luckily had not yet left town for a scheduled trip to Lilongwe. When Dan explained our situation, Moya said he would walk immediately over to talk to a mechanic he knew and give Dan a call back. Moya went to the mechanic's place but the mechanic was not there. He called Dan to tell him he would try another mechanic in town. When he got to the second mechanic's place, Moya called Dan again so that Dan could talk directly to the mechanic.
The mechanics agreed to take a public minibus down to take a look at our radiator; they had no access to a functioning vehicle.
Here's a look at the approximate location of the mechanic's yard and the place we were stranded. As you can see, we were fairly lucky to have broken down relatively close to town.
You can't see the scale that clearly, but we broke down about five miles outside of town.
Anyway, about a half hour to forty-five minutes later, Moya and two mechanics showed up to take a look at our car. Dan told them about the epoxy the mechanics in Nyika had applied and that the car was leaking water. He also told them that we had tried unsuccessfully to restart the car.
The mechanics looked at the engine and removed the radiator.
They said they'd take the radiator with them back to their garage where they would permanently fix the holes with a blow torch. So they got back on a minibus with our radiator to return to Rumphi. Moya stayed behind with us.
About two hours later, around 8:00 p.m., the mechanics returned. They had fixed the holes we could see as well as a couple holes that were hidden from view near the bottom of the radiator. At this point it was dark so we gave them our camping headlights to use to reinstall the radiator.
When it was back in place, we tried to restart the car. Just as I feared: this car now has bigger problems than a leaky radiator.
The mechanics wanted to try push starting the thing. Well that won't work because it's an automatic but we followed the mechanic's instructions anyway until he realized it was an automatic.
Then, for a reason I don't understand, the mechanic had us push the car over to a dirt area in front of a general store about 20 yards off the road.
After we managed to get the car off to the side of the road, a number of people came by to see what was the matter with our smoking engine. Dan related to us that when he had broken down in a different vehicle a few months earlier in Lilongwe, some of the people who came to offer their assistance expected compensation for their efforts. To stem any prospective requests here, Dan firmly told the passersby that while he appreciated their concern for our predicament, we were not in need of their help.
We examined the front of the Hilux and saw that it was leaking water. The epoxy didn't hold.
So we waited for the car to cool down and, after awhile, added more water to the radiator. Jon, stepping out of his adopted role as decisional agnostic, strongly advocated for restarting the car and pushing on. His idea was that we could carefully monitor the temperature gauge and pull over periodically to add water to the radiator as needed. Dan favored going to Rumphi to have the holes in the radiator fixed permanently with epoxy and a blow torch. In the end, we didn't have the option of doing either.
After the engine cooled for a good half hour, we refilled the radiator with water and tried to restart the car. Nothing. Not even a wimper.
At this point, I knew the car was kaput.
Dan resolved to elicit help from a friend he had met while doing research in Rumphi a few months earlier. He had hired a guy named Moya to help translate Dan's field research questions and help analyze the data they collected. Moya was well connected in Rumphi, so well connected in fact, that he was set to run for local political office in the next election cycle. Dan knew that Moya could recommend a mechanic.
Let me pause here for a second to give Moya all the thanks he is due. First, here's a picture of him with Squeezy:
Moya saved us that day, pure and simple. Without him, things would have ended far worse for us, I'm quite certain of that. If you see this man, you should shake his hand and maybe push him a few soft dollars for his political campaign. McCain and Feingold don't need to know nothing about it, if you know what I mean . . .
So Dan called Moya who luckily had not yet left town for a scheduled trip to Lilongwe. When Dan explained our situation, Moya said he would walk immediately over to talk to a mechanic he knew and give Dan a call back. Moya went to the mechanic's place but the mechanic was not there. He called Dan to tell him he would try another mechanic in town. When he got to the second mechanic's place, Moya called Dan again so that Dan could talk directly to the mechanic.
The mechanics agreed to take a public minibus down to take a look at our radiator; they had no access to a functioning vehicle.
Here's a look at the approximate location of the mechanic's yard and the place we were stranded. As you can see, we were fairly lucky to have broken down relatively close to town.
You can't see the scale that clearly, but we broke down about five miles outside of town.
Anyway, about a half hour to forty-five minutes later, Moya and two mechanics showed up to take a look at our car. Dan told them about the epoxy the mechanics in Nyika had applied and that the car was leaking water. He also told them that we had tried unsuccessfully to restart the car.
The mechanics looked at the engine and removed the radiator.
They said they'd take the radiator with them back to their garage where they would permanently fix the holes with a blow torch. So they got back on a minibus with our radiator to return to Rumphi. Moya stayed behind with us.
About two hours later, around 8:00 p.m., the mechanics returned. They had fixed the holes we could see as well as a couple holes that were hidden from view near the bottom of the radiator. At this point it was dark so we gave them our camping headlights to use to reinstall the radiator.
When it was back in place, we tried to restart the car. Just as I feared: this car now has bigger problems than a leaky radiator.
The mechanics wanted to try push starting the thing. Well that won't work because it's an automatic but we followed the mechanic's instructions anyway until he realized it was an automatic.
Then, for a reason I don't understand, the mechanic had us push the car over to a dirt area in front of a general store about 20 yards off the road.
Bust - don't hit when the dealer's showing 16
The noise? What noise?
Well, there was no noise and I really don't know what else to say.
The Hilux was kaput.
Once again, we're stuck on the side of a road. At least the view wasn't too bad:
Well, there was no noise and I really don't know what else to say.
The Hilux was kaput.
Once again, we're stuck on the side of a road. At least the view wasn't too bad:
Nkhata Bay or Bust!!!
With just a slight detour and unplanned stop in Rumphi, we're back on the road, but before we move on, let's recap the condition of the Hilux:
A combination of a hissing/wheezing/not very pleased about having to continue noise was coming from under the hood, definitely a noise that is not normal, definitely a noise we haven't heard the entire week.
But we were on a mission. A mission to get to Mzuzu. A mission to return the tire. A mission to reach Nhkata Bay, to taste the buffet, to soak our feet in the lake.
I thought the Hilux would be stoked to be off the dirt road, but I guess it wasn't happy about anything. I thought the Hilux was our friend, we were wrong.
We reach the main junction, we turn onto the M1, and, wait a second, what's that noise ...
- two flat tires
- cracks in the radiator
- running hot
- extremely dirty, but still running
- tired
- hungry
- extremely dirty, but still running
A combination of a hissing/wheezing/not very pleased about having to continue noise was coming from under the hood, definitely a noise that is not normal, definitely a noise we haven't heard the entire week.
But we were on a mission. A mission to get to Mzuzu. A mission to return the tire. A mission to reach Nhkata Bay, to taste the buffet, to soak our feet in the lake.
I thought the Hilux would be stoked to be off the dirt road, but I guess it wasn't happy about anything. I thought the Hilux was our friend, we were wrong.
We reach the main junction, we turn onto the M1, and, wait a second, what's that noise ...
Rumphi, Malawi: Still Not the Land of Milk and Honey
Katy, Mellissa, Jon, and I met Dan at the hospital at the end of the road. Dan said the three we transported did not appear to be gravely injured judging by the doctor's reaction when they were admitted. So we got back in our dusty car and decided to get something to eat.
We drove down to the main drag of Rumphi and stopped in a restaurant/bar that Dan had eaten at before.
Here's a view of the main drag through Rumphi from the front of the restaurant.
By this time, it was already 3:00 p.m. and we were pretty hungry. Thankfully we had eaten a little something in Nyika before taking off.
Both Katy and I needed to use the restroom, so we went to the adjacent bar/poolhall to find it. There was a toilet all right, but no running water. Nor was there a trash can. I'll leave it there out of respect for the faint of heart.
When we returned to our table, our traveling companions were gone. They had gone out back where the owner of the restaurant had kindly prepared a bucket of water for us to wash off the dirt that was caked on our hands and face. I went back to clean up, too, but by the time I got there, they had emptied the bucket. So I lathered on some hand sanitizer and returned to my seat.
The menu was one that we had grown accustomed to reviewing. Chicken, meat, or chambo (a type of fish found in Lake Malawi) with a side of either chips (i.e. french fries), nsima, or rice. We all ordered a permutation of these options.
About five minutes later, our server returned and told us that it would take awhile for the people who ordered chicken because the chicken was still thawing and wouldn't be ready for another 30-45 minutes. Also, the chips would take awhile, too, because the potatoes weren't ready.
Well, we were running late. If we were going to make it to Mzuzu (an hour away), buy a tire, drop off the borrowed tire to the Nyika office, and use the internet before everything closes (which tends to be around 5:00 p.m.) we better get a move on.
So we told our server that we were sorry but we needed to get going. We went across the street to the "PTC" (that's the People's market pictured above - there's one in every town) to buy a few snacks, and we headed down the road to Mzuzu.
Rumphi had no gas for us on the way up, and no lunch for us on the way down.
We drove down to the main drag of Rumphi and stopped in a restaurant/bar that Dan had eaten at before.
Here's a view of the main drag through Rumphi from the front of the restaurant.
By this time, it was already 3:00 p.m. and we were pretty hungry. Thankfully we had eaten a little something in Nyika before taking off.
Both Katy and I needed to use the restroom, so we went to the adjacent bar/poolhall to find it. There was a toilet all right, but no running water. Nor was there a trash can. I'll leave it there out of respect for the faint of heart.
When we returned to our table, our traveling companions were gone. They had gone out back where the owner of the restaurant had kindly prepared a bucket of water for us to wash off the dirt that was caked on our hands and face. I went back to clean up, too, but by the time I got there, they had emptied the bucket. So I lathered on some hand sanitizer and returned to my seat.
The menu was one that we had grown accustomed to reviewing. Chicken, meat, or chambo (a type of fish found in Lake Malawi) with a side of either chips (i.e. french fries), nsima, or rice. We all ordered a permutation of these options.
About five minutes later, our server returned and told us that it would take awhile for the people who ordered chicken because the chicken was still thawing and wouldn't be ready for another 30-45 minutes. Also, the chips would take awhile, too, because the potatoes weren't ready.
Well, we were running late. If we were going to make it to Mzuzu (an hour away), buy a tire, drop off the borrowed tire to the Nyika office, and use the internet before everything closes (which tends to be around 5:00 p.m.) we better get a move on.
So we told our server that we were sorry but we needed to get going. We went across the street to the "PTC" (that's the People's market pictured above - there's one in every town) to buy a few snacks, and we headed down the road to Mzuzu.
Rumphi had no gas for us on the way up, and no lunch for us on the way down.
Muzungu Medevac
About an hour down the road from Mr. Mhongo's, we were flagged down by a large open bed truck traveling in the opposite direction. We pulled over and waited for what the driver had to say.
The driver climbed down from the cab and calmly informed us that, about a kilometer up the road, there had been an accident. His English was a little hard to understand but I gathered that the accident involved a pickup truck that had turned over. He said there were three injured people who required medical attention and asked whether we could please take them to the hospital in Rumphi because he was heading in the opposite direction.
Now, after all the help we received over the last couple of days, we weren't about to say no. Not that we really had all that much choice in the matter, but we were committed to doing whatever we could. The problem seemed to be however that we were five people in a five-seater vehicle with all of our stuff plus a tire in the trunk.
We continue down the road without saying a word, but I think we all felt trepidation about what we were about to encounter.
Around the next bend in the road, a group of five guys or so flagged us down again. They also told us about the accident and that we needed to take the injured to the hospital.
We continued on and reached the scene of the accident. We saw a pickup truck off the side of the road -- but it wasn't turned over -- and a number of bicycles strewn across the road, though it wasn't clear whether the bikes were involved in the accident or just belonged to the villagers who had gathered to survey the scene. About twenty to thirty people had gathered in all. When we pulled up, they approached us to ask our help taking people to the hospital.
Dan and Mellissa were in the front seat. Jon, Katy, and I were in the back. We got out to see what was going on and, just like that, two men carried an injured woman to the car and laid her across the back seats. She was writhing in pain and covered in a towel. My stomach dropped as I began to fear that the accident had been quite bad. And how were we going to transport anyone else to the hospital with her laying across all three seats?
Within a few more seconds, someone coaxed the injured woman into sitting up straight in the middle seat. A man with a bandage over his head climbed into the back seat on one side, and another man, whom I didn't see, climbed in on the other side.
That left Jon, Katy, and me outside the car with no seat. Katy said she could sit on Mellissa's lap in the front seat. Jon and I both figured that we'd have to hang tight and wait for Dan to come back after making a run to the hospital.
But Dan wasn't about to leave us behind, so we walked to the back of the car to see if we could squeeze in there. We moved the spare tire over to the side and gave our box of leftover food to one of the bystanders to clear some room. After rearranging the suitcases a bit, Jon and I managed to fit in the trunk with the window down and our feet hanging out the back.
Unfortunately, we don't have any photos -- it wasn't exactly the best time for that -- but we do have this artistic rendering, courtesy of Vincent Pan Gogh:
JP:
Incredibly, the Hilux is now an ambulance. Still on the dirt road and now with the back window down, all the dirt the Hilux is kicking up is now coming right back into the car, some sort of dirt vortex that's throwing dirt at the two of us so hard where we couldn't open our eyes nor talk as we could feel the dirt hit our teeth even with our mouths shut. We could feel the dirt accumulate on us and all around us.
After about an hour on the bumpy dirt road, we finally reach Rumphi and the hospital. At first we pulled up to a building that looked like the hospital but turned out to be a women's health clinic. We all got out of the car.
Ryan and I thought that we bore the brunt of the dirt shower, but to our surprise, we hop out of the car and discover that we weren't the only ones dirty. We definitely were the dirtiest (no pictures unfortunately but we were told it looked like we had a thick layer of make-up on) but with the windows down, dirt covered the entirety of the car, inside and out.
RS: The hospital we needed to go to was at the end of the road we were on. We decided that Dan would drive the injured to the hospital and Katy, Mellissa, Jon, and I would follow behind by foot.
I can only imagine how ridiculous we must have looked walking down that street. Not only must it have looked funny for a group of four muzungus to be walking down a road that had nothing for tourists to see, we were completely bathed in dirt.
JP: But hey, what's a little dirt, plus, we did a good deed, karma should be back on our side. Right? RIGHT? RIGHT!!!??? ...
The driver climbed down from the cab and calmly informed us that, about a kilometer up the road, there had been an accident. His English was a little hard to understand but I gathered that the accident involved a pickup truck that had turned over. He said there were three injured people who required medical attention and asked whether we could please take them to the hospital in Rumphi because he was heading in the opposite direction.
Now, after all the help we received over the last couple of days, we weren't about to say no. Not that we really had all that much choice in the matter, but we were committed to doing whatever we could. The problem seemed to be however that we were five people in a five-seater vehicle with all of our stuff plus a tire in the trunk.
We continue down the road without saying a word, but I think we all felt trepidation about what we were about to encounter.
Around the next bend in the road, a group of five guys or so flagged us down again. They also told us about the accident and that we needed to take the injured to the hospital.
We continued on and reached the scene of the accident. We saw a pickup truck off the side of the road -- but it wasn't turned over -- and a number of bicycles strewn across the road, though it wasn't clear whether the bikes were involved in the accident or just belonged to the villagers who had gathered to survey the scene. About twenty to thirty people had gathered in all. When we pulled up, they approached us to ask our help taking people to the hospital.
Dan and Mellissa were in the front seat. Jon, Katy, and I were in the back. We got out to see what was going on and, just like that, two men carried an injured woman to the car and laid her across the back seats. She was writhing in pain and covered in a towel. My stomach dropped as I began to fear that the accident had been quite bad. And how were we going to transport anyone else to the hospital with her laying across all three seats?
Within a few more seconds, someone coaxed the injured woman into sitting up straight in the middle seat. A man with a bandage over his head climbed into the back seat on one side, and another man, whom I didn't see, climbed in on the other side.
That left Jon, Katy, and me outside the car with no seat. Katy said she could sit on Mellissa's lap in the front seat. Jon and I both figured that we'd have to hang tight and wait for Dan to come back after making a run to the hospital.
But Dan wasn't about to leave us behind, so we walked to the back of the car to see if we could squeeze in there. We moved the spare tire over to the side and gave our box of leftover food to one of the bystanders to clear some room. After rearranging the suitcases a bit, Jon and I managed to fit in the trunk with the window down and our feet hanging out the back.
Unfortunately, we don't have any photos -- it wasn't exactly the best time for that -- but we do have this artistic rendering, courtesy of Vincent Pan Gogh:
JP:
Incredibly, the Hilux is now an ambulance. Still on the dirt road and now with the back window down, all the dirt the Hilux is kicking up is now coming right back into the car, some sort of dirt vortex that's throwing dirt at the two of us so hard where we couldn't open our eyes nor talk as we could feel the dirt hit our teeth even with our mouths shut. We could feel the dirt accumulate on us and all around us.
After about an hour on the bumpy dirt road, we finally reach Rumphi and the hospital. At first we pulled up to a building that looked like the hospital but turned out to be a women's health clinic. We all got out of the car.
Ryan and I thought that we bore the brunt of the dirt shower, but to our surprise, we hop out of the car and discover that we weren't the only ones dirty. We definitely were the dirtiest (no pictures unfortunately but we were told it looked like we had a thick layer of make-up on) but with the windows down, dirt covered the entirety of the car, inside and out.
RS: The hospital we needed to go to was at the end of the road we were on. We decided that Dan would drive the injured to the hospital and Katy, Mellissa, Jon, and I would follow behind by foot.
I can only imagine how ridiculous we must have looked walking down that street. Not only must it have looked funny for a group of four muzungus to be walking down a road that had nothing for tourists to see, we were completely bathed in dirt.
JP: But hey, what's a little dirt, plus, we did a good deed, karma should be back on our side. Right? RIGHT? RIGHT!!!??? ...
No One Home at Mr. Mhongo's
So off we go from Chelinda camp. It's an hour later than we hoped, but at least we have a double patched tire that, although the mechanics warned us not to drive out on, should serve as a fairly reliable spare.
I, for one, was bummed to leave. The park was beautiful, the weather was perfect, and Chalet 4 was cozy. I was also excited about Nkhata Bay, however; I had read a bit about it and the Cheeze and Squeezy had talked it up.
JP: From one of our earlier posts, you may remember us describing the road conditions up to Nyika Plateau, namely that they are terrible. So terrible that we could go no faster than 20km/hr, tops. So terrible that Dan would send us out to remove large impediments, oh, you think I'm kidding ...
he'd then take off down the road, make us run to catch up and have a laugh.
RS: Unfortunately, we had to take the same road down that we took up. Fortunately, it's still fun to laugh at Jon.
JP: So after a couple days of these roads, rocking back and forth, side to side and me hitting my head numerous times on the side of the car [RS: Jon is the only one who seemed to have this problem, and he experienced this problem again, and again, and again, and . . . did you ever see that movie Memento?], we were really looking forward to making it back to the tarmac road, especially since we were down a spare. [RS: Or at least a spare we could trust - did we mention this we're driving with the wrong sized tire on the front driver's side?] We were determined to make it to Nkhata Bay for swimming in Lake Malawi and this dinner buffet the Squeeze kept telling us about, but before Nkhata Bay, we still had to do a few things:
RS: We made it to the gate of Nyika without incident. Squeezy, behind the wheel, got us through like a Baja 500 driver on methamphetamines.
(Come to think of it, a helmet would have been good for Jon.)
We went down to Mr. Mhongo's place to tell him about the borrowed tire. We talked to his wife who told us Mr. Mhongo was in the area but she didn't know when he'd be back. Well, we were facing a bit of a time crunch. The Squeeze had already written Mr. Mhongo a note that Prince Daniel was to pass along, so we figured we made a good faith effort and we'd just keep moving to Mzuzu.
We got back on the road, exited Nyika, put some music on the radio, and kept driving.
http://www.sdsefi.com/truck1.jpg
I, for one, was bummed to leave. The park was beautiful, the weather was perfect, and Chalet 4 was cozy. I was also excited about Nkhata Bay, however; I had read a bit about it and the Cheeze and Squeezy had talked it up.
JP: From one of our earlier posts, you may remember us describing the road conditions up to Nyika Plateau, namely that they are terrible. So terrible that we could go no faster than 20km/hr, tops. So terrible that Dan would send us out to remove large impediments, oh, you think I'm kidding ...
he'd then take off down the road, make us run to catch up and have a laugh.
RS: Unfortunately, we had to take the same road down that we took up. Fortunately, it's still fun to laugh at Jon.
JP: So after a couple days of these roads, rocking back and forth, side to side and me hitting my head numerous times on the side of the car [RS: Jon is the only one who seemed to have this problem, and he experienced this problem again, and again, and again, and . . . did you ever see that movie Memento?], we were really looking forward to making it back to the tarmac road, especially since we were down a spare. [RS: Or at least a spare we could trust - did we mention this we're driving with the wrong sized tire on the front driver's side?] We were determined to make it to Nkhata Bay for swimming in Lake Malawi and this dinner buffet the Squeeze kept telling us about, but before Nkhata Bay, we still had to do a few things:
- Drop by Mr. Mhongo's to give the run-down on the borrowed tire drop-off
- Buy a new tire in Mzuzu
- Return the borrowed tire to the Nyika office there
- Buy more diesel
- Use the internet
RS: We made it to the gate of Nyika without incident. Squeezy, behind the wheel, got us through like a Baja 500 driver on methamphetamines.
(Come to think of it, a helmet would have been good for Jon.)
We went down to Mr. Mhongo's place to tell him about the borrowed tire. We talked to his wife who told us Mr. Mhongo was in the area but she didn't know when he'd be back. Well, we were facing a bit of a time crunch. The Squeeze had already written Mr. Mhongo a note that Prince Daniel was to pass along, so we figured we made a good faith effort and we'd just keep moving to Mzuzu.
We got back on the road, exited Nyika, put some music on the radio, and kept driving.
http://www.sdsefi.com/truck1.jpg
Deja Vu Version 4.0
We woke up Thursday morning with a plan. We set an alarm and everything.
Here's the plan:
1. Put the patched tire back on the car and the borrowed tire in the trunk
2. Drive to Mr. Mhongo's place to tell him we'll drop the borrowed tire with the Nyika office in Mzuzu
3. Grab lunch in Rumphi
4. Drive to Mzuzu
5. Get gas, buy a tire, drop the borrowed tire at the Nyika office, use the internet
6. Get to Nkhata Bay before sunset so we can negotiate the tricky final ascent to our hotel
7. Kuche kuche or two, watch the sunset over Lake Malawi, whatever comes naturally
We are focused. We are determined. We are excited about this hotel overlooking the lake that the Cheese and Squeezy are raving about.
We got up early, got ready impressively fast for a group of five sharing a single bathroom, and packed up our stuff.
Jon and Dan went outside to get ready for the tire change and . . . rut-ro. The patched tire doesn't hold air.
So back we go for the fourth time in two days to the mechanic's yard. The mechanic said he could fix the tire but he would need an hour. We asked if there was anyway to do it faster since we were in a bit of a hurry. "How about a half hour? Is that possible?" "Sure, come back in a half hour." We didn't go anywhere. An hour later, the tire was patched.
We're an hour delayed before we even begin.
Here's the plan:
1. Put the patched tire back on the car and the borrowed tire in the trunk
2. Drive to Mr. Mhongo's place to tell him we'll drop the borrowed tire with the Nyika office in Mzuzu
3. Grab lunch in Rumphi
4. Drive to Mzuzu
5. Get gas, buy a tire, drop the borrowed tire at the Nyika office, use the internet
6. Get to Nkhata Bay before sunset so we can negotiate the tricky final ascent to our hotel
7. Kuche kuche or two, watch the sunset over Lake Malawi, whatever comes naturally
We are focused. We are determined. We are excited about this hotel overlooking the lake that the Cheese and Squeezy are raving about.
We got up early, got ready impressively fast for a group of five sharing a single bathroom, and packed up our stuff.
Jon and Dan went outside to get ready for the tire change and . . . rut-ro. The patched tire doesn't hold air.
So back we go for the fourth time in two days to the mechanic's yard. The mechanic said he could fix the tire but he would need an hour. We asked if there was anyway to do it faster since we were in a bit of a hurry. "How about a half hour? Is that possible?" "Sure, come back in a half hour." We didn't go anywhere. An hour later, the tire was patched.
We're an hour delayed before we even begin.
23 May 2007
Nyika Plateau
Fortunately, our full day at Nyika wasn't nearly as "eventful" as the day before but we were fine with that. Nyika is beautiful and it was a fantastic afternoon. This is what it looks like:
a perfect day to take pictures ...
of the landscape ...
and of us ...
we didn't see a single person, only zebras and antelope ...
we were in good spirits ...
More pictures from Nyika may be found here: Nyika Gallery
RS: However, we did encounter one problem during our drive around the park. While we were heading up the hill, just before we came across the first group of zebras pictured above, we noticed that the temperature gauge was pointing as hot as it could get. We dismissed the reading because the car was exhibiting no signs of overheating. At that temperature, we would have expected to see smoke emanating from under the hood and the car to be making odd noises. But the car seemed to be working just fine. Nevertheless, we took a look under the hood at our next stop. None of us really knew what to look for but we did rule out the possibility that the car was low on oil.
When we returned to camp, we decided to drive by the mechanics one more time to double check nothing was wrong with the car. They were surprised to see us again so soon. This was the third time in about four hours we had been to see them.
The mechanics opened the hood and immediately spotted holes in the radiator. The thing really was overheating. No problem, they can patch it up with an epoxy. The problem is, they can't fix the radiator permanently because you need a blow torch to set the epoxy. They didn't have a blow torch up there because they didn't have the gas to fuel it. However, they told us that the epoxy should hold until we get all the way back to Lilongwe.
Fine, we don't want to put anymore money into the owner's car. We've done enough. The mechanics agreed. They commented that the owner seemed to be more interested in making money than maintaining his vehicle.
a perfect day to take pictures ...
of the landscape ...
and of us ...
we didn't see a single person, only zebras and antelope ...
we were in good spirits ...
More pictures from Nyika may be found here: Nyika Gallery
RS: However, we did encounter one problem during our drive around the park. While we were heading up the hill, just before we came across the first group of zebras pictured above, we noticed that the temperature gauge was pointing as hot as it could get. We dismissed the reading because the car was exhibiting no signs of overheating. At that temperature, we would have expected to see smoke emanating from under the hood and the car to be making odd noises. But the car seemed to be working just fine. Nevertheless, we took a look under the hood at our next stop. None of us really knew what to look for but we did rule out the possibility that the car was low on oil.
When we returned to camp, we decided to drive by the mechanics one more time to double check nothing was wrong with the car. They were surprised to see us again so soon. This was the third time in about four hours we had been to see them.
The mechanics opened the hood and immediately spotted holes in the radiator. The thing really was overheating. No problem, they can patch it up with an epoxy. The problem is, they can't fix the radiator permanently because you need a blow torch to set the epoxy. They didn't have a blow torch up there because they didn't have the gas to fuel it. However, they told us that the epoxy should hold until we get all the way back to Lilongwe.
Fine, we don't want to put anymore money into the owner's car. We've done enough. The mechanics agreed. They commented that the owner seemed to be more interested in making money than maintaining his vehicle.
First Things First
We were all looking forward to touring the national park, but we needed to get some gas and patch a tire first.
We knew that Prince Daniel would come to find us around 9:00 a.m. to take back the tire and collect the gas we owed him. Dan and I woke up early to see if we could take care of those things before he arrived.
We drove down to the camp's general store where we ran into the British camp director again. He was chary to part with much gas because they were in short supply that's difficult to replenish since tankers can't make the drive up to Chelinda. Squeeze convinced him to spare 25 L to repay Prince Daniel and another 10 L or so to leave us enough gas to take a short drive around the park and get back down the hill to Rumphi the following day.
The director wrote us a receipt and sent us to the mechanics yard to fill up and patch our tire. We dropped off the flat tire (not the blown tire) and the mechanics told us they could probably have it fixed in an hour.
We went back to the chalet to get ready for a drive around the park. A little after 9:00 a.m., Prince Daniel walked up to our place. Squeezy told Prince Daniel that we had arranged for the repayment of the 25 L of diesel, but that we wondered whether we could hold on to the borrowed tire for a while longer. We wanted to have a spare available for driving around the park and the drive out of the park the following day.
I wasn't sure how well that suggestion would go over with the Prince, but he was immediately amenable to the idea. He told us there was a Nyika Safaris office in Rumphi where we could drop the tire. We asked whether we could keep the tire until Mzuzu since that was where they suggested we could buy another tire. Again, the Prince said that wouldn't be a problem because there was another office in Mzuzu where we could leave the tire. Prince Daniel just wanted us to write a note to Mr. Mhongo explaining the plan. Squeezy obliged and gave the note to the Prince who would deliver it to Mr. Mhongo.
Just like that we were set up for a very nice day in Nyika National Park.
We knew that Prince Daniel would come to find us around 9:00 a.m. to take back the tire and collect the gas we owed him. Dan and I woke up early to see if we could take care of those things before he arrived.
We drove down to the camp's general store where we ran into the British camp director again. He was chary to part with much gas because they were in short supply that's difficult to replenish since tankers can't make the drive up to Chelinda. Squeeze convinced him to spare 25 L to repay Prince Daniel and another 10 L or so to leave us enough gas to take a short drive around the park and get back down the hill to Rumphi the following day.
The director wrote us a receipt and sent us to the mechanics yard to fill up and patch our tire. We dropped off the flat tire (not the blown tire) and the mechanics told us they could probably have it fixed in an hour.
We went back to the chalet to get ready for a drive around the park. A little after 9:00 a.m., Prince Daniel walked up to our place. Squeezy told Prince Daniel that we had arranged for the repayment of the 25 L of diesel, but that we wondered whether we could hold on to the borrowed tire for a while longer. We wanted to have a spare available for driving around the park and the drive out of the park the following day.
I wasn't sure how well that suggestion would go over with the Prince, but he was immediately amenable to the idea. He told us there was a Nyika Safaris office in Rumphi where we could drop the tire. We asked whether we could keep the tire until Mzuzu since that was where they suggested we could buy another tire. Again, the Prince said that wouldn't be a problem because there was another office in Mzuzu where we could leave the tire. Prince Daniel just wanted us to write a note to Mr. Mhongo explaining the plan. Squeezy obliged and gave the note to the Prince who would deliver it to Mr. Mhongo.
Just like that we were set up for a very nice day in Nyika National Park.
22 May 2007
Chalet 4
RS: The remaining stretch to Chelinda was long, dark, and rugged. There was no chance we would have made it with the little gas we had left. We had to drive excruciatingly slow to negotiate the gaping holes in the road.
Eventually we made it to camp. It was hard to follow the sign posts at night and we ended up knocking on the wrong door to check in. Luckily, we knocked on the door of the pilot whom Prince Daniel suggested could pick up a tire for us in Mzuzu.
The pilot was a Canadian ex-pat named Christian. We told Christian we were trying to check in to the chalet we had reserved but that we couldn't seem to figure out where to go. Christian was very accomodating. He spoke in a calm, soothing voice and patiently pointed us in the right direction.
We also explained to Christian the trying circumstances that brought us to camp so late and apologized for bothering him. He empathized with our plight and told us it was not uncommon for people to experience car problems on the road to Nyika. He also told us that he was not making the run to Mzuzu the next day but instead was heading to an island in the middle of Lake Malawi. However, he told us the camp had its own mechanic yard that could probably patch our tire.
Very sadly, about two weeks after having this conversation with Christian, we read this article in the news.
With Christian's help, we found the main lodge at camp where a British ex-pat who runs the Nyika Safaris tour company that operates the Chelinda camp got us sorted and into the self-catering chalet we reserved.
JP:
While pulling up to the lodge, we drove by the chalets and joked that we didn't want to get Chalet 4 because it was off on it's own and looked a bit scary in the middle of the woods (you have to understand, we had quite an evening already and besides the road, we had absolutely no idea where we were ... DY: plus Nyika has giant turtles that run like Carl Lewis). Guess which chalet we got? That's right, Chalet 4. But when we got up in the morning, it turns out Chalet 4 isn't so scary after all.
2 bedroom, 1 bath and a fireplace, it was much more than we expected. We even had the help of Dominic, who was essentially a butler, to keep the fires going (the fireplace as well as the fire for hot water) and cook our meals.
Here's the fireplace:
Here's the wood burning water heater:
And wood burning stove:
RS: This place was about as cozy as they come. I think all of our expectations were low after a roommate of Squeezy's in Lilongwe had pooh poohed the place and suggested it was overpriced. We were all really excited to discover the place was so nice.
Eventually we made it to camp. It was hard to follow the sign posts at night and we ended up knocking on the wrong door to check in. Luckily, we knocked on the door of the pilot whom Prince Daniel suggested could pick up a tire for us in Mzuzu.
The pilot was a Canadian ex-pat named Christian. We told Christian we were trying to check in to the chalet we had reserved but that we couldn't seem to figure out where to go. Christian was very accomodating. He spoke in a calm, soothing voice and patiently pointed us in the right direction.
We also explained to Christian the trying circumstances that brought us to camp so late and apologized for bothering him. He empathized with our plight and told us it was not uncommon for people to experience car problems on the road to Nyika. He also told us that he was not making the run to Mzuzu the next day but instead was heading to an island in the middle of Lake Malawi. However, he told us the camp had its own mechanic yard that could probably patch our tire.
Very sadly, about two weeks after having this conversation with Christian, we read this article in the news.
With Christian's help, we found the main lodge at camp where a British ex-pat who runs the Nyika Safaris tour company that operates the Chelinda camp got us sorted and into the self-catering chalet we reserved.
JP:
While pulling up to the lodge, we drove by the chalets and joked that we didn't want to get Chalet 4 because it was off on it's own and looked a bit scary in the middle of the woods (you have to understand, we had quite an evening already and besides the road, we had absolutely no idea where we were ... DY: plus Nyika has giant turtles that run like Carl Lewis). Guess which chalet we got? That's right, Chalet 4. But when we got up in the morning, it turns out Chalet 4 isn't so scary after all.
2 bedroom, 1 bath and a fireplace, it was much more than we expected. We even had the help of Dominic, who was essentially a butler, to keep the fires going (the fireplace as well as the fire for hot water) and cook our meals.Here's the fireplace:
Here's the wood burning water heater:
And wood burning stove:
RS: This place was about as cozy as they come. I think all of our expectations were low after a roommate of Squeezy's in Lilongwe had pooh poohed the place and suggested it was overpriced. We were all really excited to discover the place was so nice.
Comically Good Luck
It has been about 2 1/2 hours at this point. It's completely dark and we have no means of communicating with Dan or Jon.
Finally a car drives up in the same direction we're headed. I flag them down. "Have you seen our friends?" Sure, they're with us. People come streaming out from every direction of the car. Finally, Dan and Jon emerge.
JP:
While I tell Mellissa and Katy the story of our last few hours, Dan, Ryan, and a number of guys we rode with start changing the tire. As a gesture of goodwill, we offer our pit crew beers which they devour in a matter of minutes.
RS:
The man I would learn to call Prince Daniel soon takes control of the situation. He grabs the tire-changing kit and starts to remove the flat tire. He embarrased us with how quickly he was able to erect the jack, and in the dark no less (so that's what that extra piece to the jack was for . . . Oh, I get it . . . ).
Dan and I help as Prince Daniels places the tire they had borrowed from a car they had found up on blocks at Mr. Mhongo's camp. When we start to tighten the lug nuts, we realize that this tire is a different size than the others; the lug nuts don't fit completely flush against the wheel. It's pretty close, though, so we think it should hold until Chelinda.
Now, about that gas. By the time our second tire went flat, I think it was pretty clear to us that we were very unlikely to make it to camp on the little amount of diesel we had left. The gauge was on empty so our only hope was that the gauge was wrong.
So Dan negotiated with Prince Daniel for us to use some of the diesel they were taking up to sell at the Chelinda camp. Prince Daniel was very accomodating; he didn't think twice about letting us use it.
So, in a matter of seconds, someone retrieved a 25 liter container of gas from the back of Prince Daniel's truck and Prince Daniel jury-rigged a plastic bottle into a gas nozzle.
We also developed a plan: Prince Daniel and his crew would follow us the rest of the way to Chelinda to make sure we got there alright. The next morning at 9:00 a.m., he would find us to reclaim the tire. We were to get another 25 liters of gas from the Chelinda camp and give it to Prince Daniel in repayment for the amount he let us use. Prince Daniel also told us about a pilot at Chelinda that makes a run to and from Mzuzu everyday. He suggested we find the pilot and ask the pilot to pick us up a tire in Mzuzu.
And just like that, we were back on the road.
Now, let's review. We were stranded on a dirt road in the middle of a seldomly touristed national park without a tire and without enough gas to get to the nearest town that might have a tire. Jon and Dan happen upon a group of workers who are heading up to the camp we're trying to reach with the purpose, in part, to sell the extra canisters of diesel they're carrying. They take Jon and Dan to a garage near the Nyika gate where they find a car that's similar to ours up on blocks with a tire to spare.
In the middle of nowhere we came across a group who had at their disposal an extra canister of gas and a spare tire to fit our car. That's pretty good luck if you ask me.
Finally a car drives up in the same direction we're headed. I flag them down. "Have you seen our friends?" Sure, they're with us. People come streaming out from every direction of the car. Finally, Dan and Jon emerge.
JP:
While I tell Mellissa and Katy the story of our last few hours, Dan, Ryan, and a number of guys we rode with start changing the tire. As a gesture of goodwill, we offer our pit crew beers which they devour in a matter of minutes.
RS:
The man I would learn to call Prince Daniel soon takes control of the situation. He grabs the tire-changing kit and starts to remove the flat tire. He embarrased us with how quickly he was able to erect the jack, and in the dark no less (so that's what that extra piece to the jack was for . . . Oh, I get it . . . ).
Dan and I help as Prince Daniels places the tire they had borrowed from a car they had found up on blocks at Mr. Mhongo's camp. When we start to tighten the lug nuts, we realize that this tire is a different size than the others; the lug nuts don't fit completely flush against the wheel. It's pretty close, though, so we think it should hold until Chelinda.
Now, about that gas. By the time our second tire went flat, I think it was pretty clear to us that we were very unlikely to make it to camp on the little amount of diesel we had left. The gauge was on empty so our only hope was that the gauge was wrong.
So Dan negotiated with Prince Daniel for us to use some of the diesel they were taking up to sell at the Chelinda camp. Prince Daniel was very accomodating; he didn't think twice about letting us use it.
So, in a matter of seconds, someone retrieved a 25 liter container of gas from the back of Prince Daniel's truck and Prince Daniel jury-rigged a plastic bottle into a gas nozzle.
We also developed a plan: Prince Daniel and his crew would follow us the rest of the way to Chelinda to make sure we got there alright. The next morning at 9:00 a.m., he would find us to reclaim the tire. We were to get another 25 liters of gas from the Chelinda camp and give it to Prince Daniel in repayment for the amount he let us use. Prince Daniel also told us about a pilot at Chelinda that makes a run to and from Mzuzu everyday. He suggested we find the pilot and ask the pilot to pick us up a tire in Mzuzu.
And just like that, we were back on the road.
Now, let's review. We were stranded on a dirt road in the middle of a seldomly touristed national park without a tire and without enough gas to get to the nearest town that might have a tire. Jon and Dan happen upon a group of workers who are heading up to the camp we're trying to reach with the purpose, in part, to sell the extra canisters of diesel they're carrying. They take Jon and Dan to a garage near the Nyika gate where they find a car that's similar to ours up on blocks with a tire to spare.
In the middle of nowhere we came across a group who had at their disposal an extra canister of gas and a spare tire to fit our car. That's pretty good luck if you ask me.
Good Luck and Godspeed
So we blew our second tire of the day no farther than 5 km inside Nyika. Just as we started to celebrate our good luck and look forward to getting to camp, our car fails us again. This time we've got no spare. We've got just about no gas. And we've got about an hour before the sun goes down.
The good news is that we're not all that far from the gate. Maybe they have a radio or something there.
We all get out of the car to inspect the tire. Sure enough, this thing is flat.
The only sensible thing to do is split up and look for help at the gate. If we run, we can probably make it there and back within the hour. So we decide that Jon and Dan will go the gate while I stay back to keep an eye on the womenfolk.
Dan and Jon take off with fleeces, a bottle of water, and two head lamps. Katy, Mellissa, and I stay behind with the car. Dan and Mellissa have cell phones that they've been using in Malawi, but the battery on one is drained and there's no reception to be had out in these parts. Dan takes the operable cell with him but we've got no way to communicate with each other. Mellissa, Katy, and I will just have to wait . . .
JP:
So Dan and I start back to the park entrance, where we entered the gate by the small village. It's about 4:30PM, the sun set the previous night around 5:30PM. We realize we need to pick up the pace if we want get there before it's dark so the two of us begin a cycle of running and walking, running and walking (running the flat and downhill, walking the uphill portions). I don't know how fast we were running nor how much distance we covered but it took us about 40 minutes to get back to the gate, stopping to talk to some guys working at a little construction site (weren't able to help) and waving hello to a bunch of kids asking, "give me my money!" [DY: JP clearly had previous trail running experience. I could barely keep up with his clip.]
As you would guess, the person at the gate was rather surprised, maybe more perturbed, to see us again so soon, especially on foot. Dan proceeds to explain our situation and she responds by telling us the following:
RS:
Katy, Mellissa, and I are having a grand ol' time of, well . . . you know . . . umm . . . sitting on our arses waiting for Dan and Jon to return. Actually, it was quite relaxing. We sat in the car and chatted it up. Now, I can't speak for Mellissa or Katy, but I was completely convinced that we'd be spending the night in the car. And this was just fine by me. We had food and water with us as well as all of our clothes. No one was around to bother us, so I was sound as a pound.
About a half hour after Jon and Dan left, we spotted a truck coming down the hill back towards Rumphi. We quickly brainstormed about what to do. Ultimately, we opted not to call attention to the fact that we were a separated bunch of five azungu in an expensive 4-wheel-drive vehicle with all of our stuff in the back who were positively stranded in a remote section of Northern Malawi. We let the truck pass us by. We figured, apart from not wanting to advertise our vulnerability, they really had nothing to offer us if they were heading in the opposite direction of where we needed to go. Plus, with a plan in place, it didn't seem smart to deviate without means of communicating our audible to Dan and Jon.
We'll just wait right here . . .
***
JP:
Alright, so Dan and I are waiting for this lady's coat to arrive when a truck pulls up and stops at the gate as a number of people spill out of the back of the truck. Not confident with our plan of walking down the road with the cell phone lady, we cruise up to the truck to see where they're heading when we meet Prince Daniel, the one in the group who speaks the best English. We discover that they're going to Chelinda lodge, exactly where we're going, so Dan explains to Prince Daniel our problem and he agrees to help, telling us to hop in the back and they'd take us back to the car, we'd just need to make one stop. (I was relieved, at one point, Dan said I might have to go back alone, in the dark, back to the car to tell the others what's going on and that he would stay there to figure out how to get a tire.).
Dan and I jump into the back with about 7 or 8 others, one of whom is pregnant, sitting on bags of something and cans of diesel fuel (did we tell you that we were also running out of diesel?).
The stop we make is to Mr. Mhongo's residence, the park director, who lives just inside the gate down a side road. Mr. Mhongo emerges from his brick home dressed like Dr. Huxtable. After a few minutes (I think they were there to drop off his mail), Dan is summoned by Prince Daniel to speak with Mr. Mhongo. I don't really know what was said since I was still in the back of the truck with the others but basically, Mr. Mhongo said, your problem is my problem. These are the events soon after:
The good news is that we're not all that far from the gate. Maybe they have a radio or something there.
We all get out of the car to inspect the tire. Sure enough, this thing is flat.
The only sensible thing to do is split up and look for help at the gate. If we run, we can probably make it there and back within the hour. So we decide that Jon and Dan will go the gate while I stay back to keep an eye on the womenfolk.
Dan and Jon take off with fleeces, a bottle of water, and two head lamps. Katy, Mellissa, and I stay behind with the car. Dan and Mellissa have cell phones that they've been using in Malawi, but the battery on one is drained and there's no reception to be had out in these parts. Dan takes the operable cell with him but we've got no way to communicate with each other. Mellissa, Katy, and I will just have to wait . . .
JP:
So Dan and I start back to the park entrance, where we entered the gate by the small village. It's about 4:30PM, the sun set the previous night around 5:30PM. We realize we need to pick up the pace if we want get there before it's dark so the two of us begin a cycle of running and walking, running and walking (running the flat and downhill, walking the uphill portions). I don't know how fast we were running nor how much distance we covered but it took us about 40 minutes to get back to the gate, stopping to talk to some guys working at a little construction site (weren't able to help) and waving hello to a bunch of kids asking, "give me my money!" [DY: JP clearly had previous trail running experience. I could barely keep up with his clip.]
As you would guess, the person at the gate was rather surprised, maybe more perturbed, to see us again so soon, especially on foot. Dan proceeds to explain our situation and she responds by telling us the following:
- There is no phone line
- There's a radio but it's turned off, we can turn it on but it won't be of any benefit since they've turned off the radio at the other end
- There's a lady in the village with a cell phone we may use but we'd have to negotiate with her ...
RS:
Katy, Mellissa, and I are having a grand ol' time of, well . . . you know . . . umm . . . sitting on our arses waiting for Dan and Jon to return. Actually, it was quite relaxing. We sat in the car and chatted it up. Now, I can't speak for Mellissa or Katy, but I was completely convinced that we'd be spending the night in the car. And this was just fine by me. We had food and water with us as well as all of our clothes. No one was around to bother us, so I was sound as a pound.
About a half hour after Jon and Dan left, we spotted a truck coming down the hill back towards Rumphi. We quickly brainstormed about what to do. Ultimately, we opted not to call attention to the fact that we were a separated bunch of five azungu in an expensive 4-wheel-drive vehicle with all of our stuff in the back who were positively stranded in a remote section of Northern Malawi. We let the truck pass us by. We figured, apart from not wanting to advertise our vulnerability, they really had nothing to offer us if they were heading in the opposite direction of where we needed to go. Plus, with a plan in place, it didn't seem smart to deviate without means of communicating our audible to Dan and Jon.
We'll just wait right here . . .
***
JP:
Alright, so Dan and I are waiting for this lady's coat to arrive when a truck pulls up and stops at the gate as a number of people spill out of the back of the truck. Not confident with our plan of walking down the road with the cell phone lady, we cruise up to the truck to see where they're heading when we meet Prince Daniel, the one in the group who speaks the best English. We discover that they're going to Chelinda lodge, exactly where we're going, so Dan explains to Prince Daniel our problem and he agrees to help, telling us to hop in the back and they'd take us back to the car, we'd just need to make one stop. (I was relieved, at one point, Dan said I might have to go back alone, in the dark, back to the car to tell the others what's going on and that he would stay there to figure out how to get a tire.).
Dan and I jump into the back with about 7 or 8 others, one of whom is pregnant, sitting on bags of something and cans of diesel fuel (did we tell you that we were also running out of diesel?).
The stop we make is to Mr. Mhongo's residence, the park director, who lives just inside the gate down a side road. Mr. Mhongo emerges from his brick home dressed like Dr. Huxtable. After a few minutes (I think they were there to drop off his mail), Dan is summoned by Prince Daniel to speak with Mr. Mhongo. I don't really know what was said since I was still in the back of the truck with the others but basically, Mr. Mhongo said, your problem is my problem. These are the events soon after:
- Return to the gate to locate local mechanic(s)
- Head back towards Mr. Mhongo's home to a garage area where they remove a tire from a truck that was up on blocks for repair
- After loading the good tire in the back, we set off towards our stranded vehicle
2nd blow tire + no gas + middle of nowhere = bad shape
You've got to be kidding me.
2nd blown tire ...
No gas ...
middle of nowhere ...
Did I mention that it will be dark in less than an hour and we're in a national park known for its wildlife, including leopards? How about the fact that, according to the register Dan signed at the front gate, we are the only people who entered Nyika today?
[Bang the Gong]
2nd blown tire ...
No gas ...
middle of nowhere ...
Did I mention that it will be dark in less than an hour and we're in a national park known for its wildlife, including leopards? How about the fact that, according to the register Dan signed at the front gate, we are the only people who entered Nyika today?
[Bang the Gong]
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