Day 23 of the tour, the first day of spring, though
the thought had not crossed my mind at the time, would present us with a few surprises. We
were collected at 8h00 to attend a local church service, after having been
invited the previous afternoon. Our escort led us through the local village
on foot for what seemed like half an hour, until we eventually arrived at
fairly large white-washed oval-shaped construction with thatched roof. It
was a truly moving, spiritual experience which almost reduced me to tears.
Garlands of bougainvillaea that hung from the rafters adorned the interior.
The locals arrived. There were no seats. Women gathered on the left-hand
side, separated from men on the right, as they knelt or sat on the hard
surface. Kids were located in front, while we remained at the rear. The
pastor commenced the service by welcoming us as the guests of the
congregation. Passages were read from the Bible. An assistant presented the
sermon in the local Chichewa tongue, interspersed with songs delivered by
the choir, with the congregation joining in, led by the women. Then we were
requested to introduce ourselves, each single introduction followed by loud,
spontaneous applause. After the service, en route to our camp, kids
introduced themselves and seemed willing to strike up conversations.
Everyone wanted to be your pen pal. It was extraordinary. It is easy for one
to assume a rather cynical stance by thinking that their motive for this was
often based on the hope that a friendship would blossom into opportunity in
terms of providing a means or a way out of their limiting and meagre
existence. One could somehow not doubt the humility or sincerity of these
people. After having what was left of lunch, most relaxed on the beach. Mark
injured his knee badly while playing volleyball on the beach and Jo applied
her training as a nurse in stitching up the wound. The sunset cruise on the
placid waters of Lake Malawi to view the hippo was a truly magical
experience.
Hiring of Hobiecats cost 100 kwacha an hour.
Rich-kid Bryan, who had been following some of the girls around like a dog on heat, had
his own back home and acted as navigator on a few stints. The wind was up, making it ideal
for sailing. It was great fun! A bit of washing was followed by some more beach volleyball
after lunch. At about 15h30 a number of us left in a Halbinger on a dangerous, near
suicide ride to the airfield by a budding young Mika Hakkinan hopeful, as he charged
through village after village like a bull in a china shop. The reckless driving which
nearly decapitated those bouncing around in the back as we negotiated the dongas and
whizzed beneath the thick, solid branches of the baobab trees, annoyed Werner intensely.
One by on we set off in the Microlight - Aviette, Chris, Troy, myself and last but not
least, Werner. By the time I went up, the sun had just set over the horizon, so decent
photographs, my prime motivation for doing the ride in the first place, were totally out
of the question. I would add that the pilot handled the Microlight with great skill and
safety. He had done much work with the Nature Conservation authorities and had flown the
craft all the way from Namibia to Malawi. The ride of 20 minutes set me back 500 kwacha.
With Werner still simmering after our dice with death, I thought it wiser not to make an
issue of it. The return journey took on a longer but far more conventional route at a more
respectable speed. After a few drinks at the bar, we sat down to a meal at the Lodge
itself.
My bar tab of 641 kwacha was settled after the
early morning shower and breakfast and some beautiful sunrise photos were taken across the
lake. The bus was packed and we headed for Senga Bay on the pot-holed road. Arriving in
the late morning, the route to the campsite from Salima took us past the local curio
market, where we were to engage in some hard bargaining later. A huge thatched rotunda
construction that housed the bar occupied an area between the more than adequate campsite
facilities and its particularly splendid beach. We swam and tanned for an hour or so and
then headed off to the market place. The rule of thumb we were given was to offer half the
going price and then find a happy medium. A beautifully carved fold-up mahogany table and
fruit bowl took my fancy. The cost of these items came to 500 and 150 kwacha respectively,
plus T-shirt, which often proves popular with the locals. As an added service, packers
wrapped the items into three separate parcels using cardboard and string, with great
skill. At 17h00 the WhichWay truck came by to pick up everyone and their curios. Curios
there certainly were - tables, chairs, bowls and so on, bound for Australia and the like!
A quick shower and it was off to Tophill Restaurant for dinner. The meal, typically
Malawian, consisted of beans, fish, chips and rice with banana pancakes for dessert. The
evening culminated in a highly entertaining performance by a local percussion and vocal
dance group.
Arising a bit later than usual, we packed up and
headed for Salima Bay, to post the curios. This took quite a while, as many of us had to
exchange money first. I posted a couple of watercolour prints, for fear of damaging them
on the rest of the trip. My curios were to remain on board for me to pick them up by the
time the truck completed the return journey back to Cape Town. We picked up two English
backpackers for the journey to Kande Bay. The weather was extremely hot and humid.
Consequently, after arriving there, much of the time was spent relaxing on the beach,
playing volleyball or swimming.
A local named Dora was on hand to offer her
services as a washerwoman for a negotiated fee. This allowed us more free time on the
beach. After lunch some of us decided to undertake a guided tour of the area with Savimbi,
the local chief's son. The chief owned the land as far as the eye could see. We toured the
cassava fields, the field where the bricks were being manufactured, the school and
hospital. The latter proved an eye-opener for Jo, a trained nurse, and we were
particularly struck by the limited resources by which these folk were expected to provide
an adequate health service. We chatted to some teachers as well as an assistant at the
hospital, in order to gain some insight into the most pressing health issues they were
being confronted with and whether a serious Aids problem existed. Three women had just
given birth to children. On the roadside, while walking back, we encountered a madman who
demanded money from me. After a quick sunset dip upon our return, an evening celebration
was planned, as it was Markus's birthday. We all contributed to the kitty and a cheese and
biscuit snack was prepared, along with Marcelle's potent fruit punch brew. The evening
meal followed, consisting of grilled steak, pumpkin, potato, with a superb fridge tart for
dessert! And this was a camping trip? Markus and Werner continued the celebrations in the
bar, which resulted in them agreeing to have their heads shaved, which they probably would
not have done, had they been in a more sober state of mind. Happy hour for those who
partook of the weed became a regular occurrence.
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