My Very First Day in Malawi Part 1

I arrived in Lilongwe, Malawi on December 24 without knowing what I would encounter once I walked through the plane’s doors. I tried researching, I dedicated time to getting to know the struggles faced therein but all the while I knew I would be learning firsthand what Malawi had in store for me. Upon arrival to the small Lilongwe Airport, I would equate it to the Long Beach Airport; (if you’ve ever landed there) I soon found that my luggage did not complete the journey along with me. So I did the only thing I could, I walked away from the baggage claim filing counter to find a taxi. I knew I still had another 5 hours to go until I was at my final destination and I was tired after the two days of traveling I’d just put behind me. So I pushed forward, severely sleep deficient, with only my backpack’s contents a laptop + charger, iPhone + charger, couple of books, a scarf, toothbrush/paste and wearing my entire wardrobe, a two day travelled in pair of jeans, UGGS and a sweater, (I was coming from winter conditions let’s not forget) which at this point were sweat soaked in the Malawi heat. I had turned in some USD in the airport and was introduced to the currency I would I come to know for the next month, Kwacha. The taxi driver knew a little English, enough to understand I wanted to find the bus service and a pay phone. I was hoping I’d at least be able to roam on my phone in case of emergencies but I had unknowingly said goodbye to using my iPhone as a communication device back home. Anxious to start the bus ride I watched as the lush green land passed me by through the windows of the taxi cab, a seemingly personal car with no visible branding.

This is where things got interesting; I found myself in what I can only describe as a “zoo” of buses. Let’s say you took an outdoor market, in the middle of a dirt field, looking more like a hiking trail than a bus depot, filled with people selling bread, fruits, wash cloths, orange drinks in repurposed Coca Cola bottles and lots of other random items. There were stands made of sticks and cardboard and also some food stands. We had to stop at the entry area to let a man pass who was pulling two goats behind him and I thought, I wonder if the goats get on the bus but the thought quickly passed as I focused on finding the right bus and a phone. I paid for my ride and asked where I could find the pay phone he’d mentioned. I was pointed toward a cardboard stand but since I couldn’t see the phone, I figured it must be behind the stand so I stepped myself carefully through a maze of mud and puddles, as it was a hot rainy day, and in the direction of this phone to call the party waiting for me. If you can guess already, there was no pay phone behind this stand and in fact, the stand was a filling station for the popular cell phone service that Malawi embraces, prepaid wireless. I had no phone to fill so I again just let this detail go and went in search of my ride. I walked through the welcome curtain of salesmen shoving their products at me, as if I couldn’t possibly live without them and soon came upon a line of buses with handwritten Blantyre sings in the front windows. They weren’t ideal buses, looking quite old and run down but I was happy to see them all the same and get started on my last leg of this trip over, (plus get my sweltering feet out of these UGGS and shower). A quick look about lead me to the fullest bus, with the intention of leaving as soon as possible and paid the fee to a women conductor and boarded a bus that only had 3 available seats left.

As I walked into the bus I felt eyes burning with wonder as they fixated on this winter dressed muzungu, a word I came to know well during my time in Africa, meaning “white person”. In Malawi I found it very common to be stared at and not just stares, eye followed me until I was out of sight, while being pointed at, spoken about and children had no misgivings about calling out the word muzungu. I sat down next to a boy, first asking if the seat was open. He waved me in and I settled into the seat with a smile, proud that I had navigated the “zoo” and was on the way to Blantyre. I was happy to learn that the 16 year old boy I sat next to not only spoke some English but also was willing to let me borrow his phone to contact Mr. KenWilliams Mhango, the only number I had. I called and he said he would have to call me back with a number for me to call about my arrival and pick up. By this time I was thirsty and hungry but didn’t dare buy any of the orange substance filling the recycled coke bottles or try the food stands with meats grilling, (being a vegetarian) so I held my hunger in the hopes that the organization I was headed to would be able to guide me through the food selection process. Mostly, I was exhausted and more than anything in need of sleep. Getting to my temporary home was all I could think of. I was ready to hit the orphanage and be surrounded by children. As I sat waiting to depart from the zoo, I noticed that despite the bus seats being full, passengers continued to board, and board, and board until there was no room to move and we were stuck to each other like a pot full of spaghetti. I sat with my backpack in my lap as I tried to discretely protect my nose from the pungent smell of body odor which led me to the conclusion that deodorant wasn’t commonly used here. Until finally, I felt the sardine can on wheels begin its departure! I was thrilled to see the road appear and I started to imagine my welcome at the orphanage. It was 1:30 in the afternoon and I was on my way, at last! I’d be there in time for dinner …or so I thought.