March 29, 2010

Our local governor is under suspicion for something I don’t quite understand. It seems that for some reason he was putting too much work into helping to develop the area, this means they feel he might try and compete for the MP position in 2014… therefore he needed to be dethroned. African politics, even in one of the most peaceful countries on the continent, are not always very fair. Anyhow, I was at the community hall (waiting for a meeting that never took place because someone didn’t come from Nkhata Bay to run it), and masses of people were piling into the hall. So, I was welcomed in, given a front row seat, and watched the elections for our new governor. This is apparently democracy… Representatives were supposable sent from each village, but names were never checked and the door wasn’t exactly secured from others walking in. These 50 people were then asked how they would like to hold the election. So, people spoke their piece, gave suggestions, and yelled a bit from time to time. In the end three candidates were lined up on the back wall and the voters were told to stand behind the person they wanted to hold the position.

Needless to say, I was taken back by the organization of the whole thing, and the less than secret ballot option they chose. It was really interesting to see the whole thing happen, however, as I now have a better idea of where our leaders are coming from. They vote for the president and then complain when he doesn’t do anything in their area, they elect village headmen who are chase out under suspicion of witch craft, and all the while I don’t think half the people in the room had the ability to read a paper. The whole thing left me questioning the elected officials in my area, but also the people and how informed they ever really are.

Mulanje (Easter weekend)

On a slow boat from the village I lucked out with a ride out of site last Wednesday evening. Spent a night in NBay, caught a ride to Mzuzu, and then an 11 hour bus ride to Blantyre in the South. There I met up with ten other members from my training group at Doogles Backpackers. Then off to the mountain

Day 1: We began with a bike taxi ride from the boma (trading center) to the base of the mountain. A bike taxi is literally a basic street bike with a long rack on the back which you sit on as the local wheels you on to your destination. We turned it into a race as oranges were used as turtle shells and Mario Karrt- Malawi style was called into play.
Once at the Forestry office we hired our guide (many tourists get lost on the mountain, and that is not something we were willing to face) and some people got porters as there was one guy with a broken rib and another with a hurt back who couldn’t physically carry their katundu (stuff).
Then we hiked up stair steps, mud, and rocks for 7 hours to the base camp. It was physically exhausting as we struggled for breath with each foot of elevation achieved. As it was getting dark we had one member almost passing out from exhaustion and another with knees about to give out. We slowed the pace so that no one got left behind, but in the end the last hour of the hike was illuminated by head lamps. We made it to the cabin wet with sweat and rain and exhausted. But with some rice and soya we got a little life back in us and snuggled up for a long night in the cold altitude.
Day 2: The next day we were beginning up the mountain at 6 am. Half the group decided not to summit, so 6 of us followed the guide up another day of climbing. This was the most challenging day as it turned more into rock climbing and attempting to not slide off the mountain. There were a few times when I thought that I had made a very poor decision as I was clinging to a rock at a 65 degree angle and praying to a god. Our guide, Oscar, saved us on several occasions and while I still don’t understand how we made it… we reached the summit after 4 hours. It was cold and windy on the top, but felt amazing achieving the hike up the 3rd tallest mountain in Africa (after Kilimanjaro and Kenya). After a brief stay, we began back done the same rocks that I don’t know how we ever made it up. This time we were in a crab walk as we little-by-little made it back to the base. Our evening was then spent making more rice and soya (not a lot of variety in the food we brought) and paying games around the fire.
Day 3: By 7am we were all packed up, a little under fed, and beginning the ant march back down to the base. The way down did a number on our already aching thighs and knees, but wasn’t the physical exhaustion of the first day. We slip and skidded in the mud and asked of people’s conditions after falling on our butts or tripping over lose stones. In the last hour we decided on a detour to a waterfall that would add an hour onto our journey, but was worth it in the end. We all stripped down and jumped in the freezing water with more energy than I thought we had left in us. It was refreshing and the perfect in to our adventure. We made in to the bottom at 3pm and hitched a ride in the back of a large truck back to the boma from which we began.

Moral of the adventure- hiking up Mulanje is NO JOKE and it’s good to be alive 