The longest 17 kms

The longest 17 kms

On Saturday, after a nerve steadying bowl of porridge ,we felt brave and we decided to attempt the Gorody road. We have looked down at the tantalising lake and beach below us for so long and still haven’t experienced it. So we set off, drove down, but essentially I kept my foot on the brake for most of the journey and let the car gently roll down, the main task was trying to avoid the worst of the rocks on the track, the most damaging potholes and of course with the sheer drops on one side not get too close to the edge! We prayed hard we wouldn’t meet anyone, even the road up to Slieve League in Donegal and meeting a Winnebago wouldn’t compare to how little wriggle room you had if you met someone on a bad place. We only met one vehicle and it was at a good place where we were able to pass, other than that we managed to negotiate the 20 hair pin bends without incident. We had given a local a lift and he allowed it took him just over an hour to walk down using the short cuts, however he is always frightened of meeting snakes doing that so was very pleased to get a lift, however I was so slow he might have been quicker walking, but he was an interesting companion with quite good English working for the big road building contractors who are trying to improve the road up from Mzuzu to Livingstonia and then on to the lake shore avoiding the present route and taking the road further around. Certainly the road works we have seen and the new parts that we have been able to drive on so far are an amazing improvement and rumour has it that it will be tarmacked , however it will not be done in time for the rains this year so hopefully all their graded mud roads will survive and may be get paved one  day. Someone cynically said that it might be used as an election promise, but might never materialise!

What a wonderful relief to reach the ground and make our way to Chitimba Camp, where we fell through the gates and found some shade to park in. The temperature at the lake shore felt a lot higher, however the promise of a walk along the beach and then a swim and lunch in the cool soon revived us.

The beach was so hot we couldn’t walk in bare feet, but wading along we watched a scene that must have barely changed in hundreds of years, men enjoying the lake to have a good wash, also people using the lake to wash their clothes, others out in dugout canoes paddling near the shore and finally children just frolicking and playing in the water. There was much evidence of fishing with nets out drying and a few suspiciously looking like the free mosquito nets given out to families with young children. Rumour has it that the nets given to protect pregnant women and young children from the mosquitos and consequent infection with malaria often end up being used as fishing nets! with disastrous results as the mesh is so tiny no size of fish will escape when used as a Seine net drawn between two canoes and it will ultimately have profound consequences on the supply of fish in the lake.

The lake is supposed to have 850 species of fish living in it described so far, but many more are thought to be just waiting to be identified and named. The ciclids form the largest fish group and it is said that they provide the most dramatic speciation known to evolutionists. Forming part of the base of the Great African Rift Valley it is unbelievably deep water but as yet I have not heard any rumours of monsters akin to Nessie! Sadly, the lake is treacherous with squalls blowing up and the boats that plie the shores to transport people where there are no roads are not always in the best condition and frequently grossly overloaded. There has been many tragic accident s on the lake with loss of life. We hope to visit the Lake shore again soon and see the fishermen coming in with their catches in the early morning dawn, when the women from the villages come down to meet them singing in the fish.

The journey up was exciting to start with as the road alternated between boulders and rocks and powder dry mud which was hard for the car’s wheels to get a grip on, the trick was to go abit faster and harder and aim for the stones which gave at least some traction, however it took a while to work that out and there were a few moments when we wondered if we would get the car back up despite the 4-wheel drive. It was an experience but not one we wish to repeat. On the way up we met the hospital ambulance but thankfully again we managed to pass without incident! On Sunday we were happy to just walk and avoid the car!

Sadly, Sunday found the hospital community in shock and mourning as the man in charge of the TB testing and treatment programme and who also assisted in the operating theatre was killed in a minibus taxi accident whilst traveling to his home place in the far north of the country. Eight people were killed when the overloaded minibus taxi, travelling too fas,t went off the road. The mini bus taxis are notoriously dangerous because of this and are always being stopped at the police road blocks, however the carnage continues and people have little choice if they want to get somewhere as public transport is very limited and too expensive for most people. This gentleman was our neighbour and his wife also works in the Primary Health Care Team and leads the ladies sewing and craft circle which I had attended last week for the first time. We were expected to attend the wake and offer our condolences however this proved a unique experience and one in which I probably committed a dreadful faux -pas. As we prepared to call at the house, ( we had luckily changed into respectable clothes. Ie long trousers for Charlie and a long skirt for me) we met so many of the hospital staff coming down in a solemn group. The household furniture was brought out of the house and benches appeared from the hospital waiting area and people started to sit down outside the house in silent rows. Others went into the house and still more streamed into the yard at the back of the house. The hospital chaplain and various other local religious dignities were there too. As we sat quietly the unnerving sounds of screaming, and wailing could be heard from the house but also the sound of praying and singing.  I suddenly realised that I was the only women sitting outside with the men and all the women were either in the house or yard!! However, I certainly didn’t feel brave enough to join them and eventually after over at least an hour and a half of African waiting, and little happening apart from someone going around with a notebook and box to collect monetary contributions to help the family with the cost of the funeral, we made our excuses and left. With our house literally, a stone’s throw away we were aware of the beautifully poignant singing that continued well into the small hours of the morning. As we awoke the next day to do the chores of feeding the hens etc the crowd was even bigger and it was obvious at 5.45 am a further service was happening before half the hospital staff left, piled into the pack of a pickup lorry to support the widow and family as they picked up the body from the hospital mortuary near where the accident had happened and then accompanied it as they made their way to the burial at his home village.

Funerals are a very important part of community life here, but account for so many days lost from work as people travel long distances to be at funerals and given that they take place often within 24 hours of the death, they just disappear and you only hear later that they had had to attend a family funeral.

 A rather sad aspect of Malawi life is the dispossession of widows, I hope my neighbour’s experience is better than some. As you are literally bought by your husband’s family with the “lobola” bride price, when your husband dies you are only entitled to ½ or 2/5’s of his estate, and the rest is distributed to his extended family. IN some places his family start grabbing things from the house even before the funeral and in extreme cases women can be totally dispossessed and made to move out of the marital home with just a few cooking pots to their name. There is a growing pressure within the more academic feminists in Malawi to change this custom and amend the very woolly law which colludes with the local custom.

This weekend should be a lot quieter as Charlie is on call and our period of duty started today at lunch time as the hospital is having a public holiday in honour of Robert Laws who set up the Mission station here in 1894. Sunday is also Mother’s Day in Malawi so they get Monday as a public holiday in lieu! I totally approve of that!

sorry having difficulty getting photos to upload but want to get this away as we have had a week of electricity cuts and water cuts, but new experience, had rain today for about an hour. it got quite cold and we even considered getting on a fleece!After air was lovely and clear and every thing smelt wonderful. The vegetable garden enjoyed it very much. I harvested my radishes today, the beans both dwarf and climbing have germinated in record time and the courgettes are about to flower , in just over 3 weeks!! that is what I call instant gardening!!. 15 new ducklings this week, 9 and 6 so at least life is prolific in the poultry arena!