Terrible Transport Tirade

Terrible Transport Tirade

When we went to sleep it was raining. My tent, apparently, leaks. Not so bad, the rain stopped, we went to sleep. Around 3 am it started raining again, the leaks were not so bad because the tent fibers had expanded. BUT, it didn't stop raining. AND we were supposed to be leaving Liwonde National Park. Our second Game Count was at a close and it had been interesting to say the least. Unfortunately the most 'interesting part' was still to take place.

It’s 5 am and we know we have to pack so we can leave at 6am. We cram out things into our bags to protect them from getting wet. Then we hustle over to the porch of a chalet and dump all of our things. Then we go back into the rain, uproot the stakes and move the entire tent, sleeping pads, bags, pillows, under the chalet’s porch. Needless to say it was crowded with me, Adam, the tent and all our Katundu (baggage) under this small porch. We finish breaking down and pack the sopping wet tent into its stuff sack and pack out bags as best we can. My rain fly is too small to protect my bag and the tent so the tent is doomed to become soaking wet. Also, I’m wearing my blue Capri pants because they dry quickly and flip flops, because it is raining so much and Adam and I both don’t want to soak the insides of our boots. Oh, by the way, I don’t have a rain jacket. It hasn’t been raining in Chitipa so I figured why would I need one? Apparently the Southern Region decided to start rainy season. SO I have a black long sleeve I found in the Do Not Want box in Lilongwe, and that would be my rain protection today. Lovely right? Anyway, I see the transport arrive and my mood plummets. Last time, we were crushed into a large sedan-type car which was uncomfortable…but DRY. But no, we can’t even be afforded that luxury. We get the rickety open-bedded pickup truck we have been using all week with the busted up windshield. You can imagine how ecstatic we all we. All the flying ants were hatching and flittering about, happy to be released from their eggs. Enter rainy season.

We all pile into the truck; several of us have no rain jackets. Out Katundu is piled high in the back and we are all resigned to be wet, and have our things soaked as well. Suddenly our PCV coordinator from the event says there is a open front seat, without hesitation I say,
“Me, me, defiantly me,” and climb out of the back of the truck and hope in the front. Of course I feel evil and guilty. Amy, another PCV, also managed to get a ride with a separate vehicle that had come to the park to do research on the Lillian’s Love Bird. SHE rubbed it in everyone’s nose. I felt a bit better considering I was still in the crappy truck, crammed into the passenger seat with a RPCV named Jack who was old and solemn. Not much of a talker I can tell you that.

Rain still pouring we head out into the park very skeptical, it had rained about 4 days before and the roads had been crappy before. With this rain you get instantaneous mud. Lots of it. We go about 3 km when we get stuck the first time. Our driver has no idea how to handle the mud (most Malawians are pretty bad drivers to begin with) and was going too fast. We slide into a rut alongside the road and nearly throw out half out passengers. We get out and push and get it back on the road. We go about 3 more km and the same thing happens. This time we stand out in the rain and hem and haw, debating about what we should do, I mean we still have like 10 km to go. We, as a collective PCV whole, decide we want to walk back after siphoning the truck’s gas then bribe the lodge with our park fees money to let us borrow their boat to get to Liwonde town (Our destination). Unfortunately the park staff does not get along with the lodge so it would take a lot of bribe money.

Just then Tiwonge, the woman driving the car Amy got into, a Rav-4, creeps up. After more debating she and the other Malawian’s decide they want to press forward. Ok. The Rav-4 with Amy grinning and mocking us creeps by, with a little push from us. The plan is that they will stay ahead of us and help us when we get stuck. SO now soaking wet, a little muddy, and a bit pissed we climb back into the truck and creep along, following the rave four. Let me point out that the Rav-4 is lighter than us, smaller than us, and has 4 wheel drive. We most defiantly do not have 4 wheel drive. About half a km down the road we slide into another ditch. After a bit of standing around and debate the occupants of the Rav-4, not wanting to get their hands dirty, drive off. After getting out of this rut we go maybe a km and get stuck again.

Every time we get stuck, everyone gets out of the car, and pushes from all sides. My flip flops break. So do Bri’s. Most of us are now barefoot, flip flops tossed in the truck bed, tramping through the mud that sometimes comes knee deep. We make jokes about the parasites we are picking up from the elephant, animal dung infested water, including hookworms. Nearly everyone is covered in Mud. Chris Pohl was a super hero. He pushed, hard, every time the car was stuck, no complaint. At one point he was parallel to the ground, mud from the tire spinning in his face, and just kept going. Eventually his glasses were useless and he gave them to me for safe keeping. And yes, I did get out and push. Jack however, did not. Typical.

We continue to get stuck, continue to get in and out of the truck, and continue to push. A lot of the guys take their shirts off and look like tribal warrior covered in mud. Everyone is soaking wet so periodically everyone wanders into the ruts, streaming with muddy water and wash off their clothes and bodies as best they can. Eventually we get so stuck we have to call a tracker from back at camp to come pull us out. We sit in the rain getting colder and colder as we wait for the tractor. Eventually it shows and pulls us out. We creep along with them leading us the rest of the way. This by no means prevents us from getting stuck, or from pushing. Even after we triangulated the chain to be more central using a piece of poacher’s snare trap wire, we still slip and slide everywhere. Even the tractor gets stuck a few times. Sometimes water is in danger of getting into the truck from the open windows.

We get stuck over ten times. It takes us 5 and a half HOURS to go 14 KMs. Then we drive through a few villages to the tarmac. We are all shivering with cold, soaking wet, and covered in mud. I have no shoes anymore. A few Kilometers from Liwonde town we run out of fuel. We sit around in the rain for a while waiting for some black market fuel. Finally, we make it to town. Bri, Adam and I stuck together. After dashing off to find places to pee we planned on hitching.  I use my bandana and a puddle to clean the worst of the mud off my feet. I put on my boots, reattach my tent to my bag and remove my rain fly because there is only a faint drizzle. We now get to find hitches for the next 200 km to Lilongwe, generally a 3 1/2 hour ride.

We get a few quick hitches to separate us from the other volunteers. Hitching in a group is hard. One hitch has a third year volunteer named Greg in it. Adam stops it by literally walking in front of it. Other volunteers are often impressed with Adam’s aggressive hitching style. I’m one of them. We get on and ride in comfort. It stops raining, a minor blessing. We find a few fast hitches. We start to warm up. Now the four of us are waiting at the Balacka road block. We are about 187 km from Lilongwe. It’s a good place to find a hitch. We flag a semi carrying tons of bags of fertilizer under a tarp. It’s free and we cruise at a slow but calming pace. For a while we are content. We stop a few times to drop off and pick up people. It starts to get dark, the clouds returned and it got cold. We stop at a road block and the driver buys us all chippies (fried chunks of potatoes with salad (some sliced tomatoes and cabbage)). It was nice of him so we felt bad about getting of the ride, so we stayed. The man next to Adam continues to periodically babble in several languages. Adam humors him. I think he is a little crazy. He has short fuzzy hair but it is shaved on the top so it looks like an old man who has balded except for a rim around the back of his head. Greg borrows Bri’s chitenge and wears it like a nun. I huddle under my chitenge and lean next to Adam, who has my rain fly over his legs trying to keep them warm.

Then it was dusk, and we had only gone 87 km in the past few hours. We have to get off. Dark falls and we get dropped on the side of the road. Four white people, with a mound of Katundu on the side of a not busy road in moonless dark. Great. We start to hike towards the road block about a km back; we are in a terrible hitching spot. Thankfully a large flatbed truck stops. We clamber in. Its empty except for one Malawian passenger. We pick up a couple; the woman has a baby on her back. All five of us present are sitting against the cab. The man climbs up and nearly knocks the other Malawian off the Jerry can he is sitting on she he can sit up front too. The truck is more comfortable, less cold, and we are moving much faster. We have a minor problem, The woman sits on the tire at the end of our extended feet. Greg momentarily sits Indian style. The woman then picks up his back, moves it onto my feet, and sits down right in front of Greg and next to my legs. Ah, typical Malawi. There is an entire FLAT BED TRUCK and this woman has to take up our space.

Bri is supposed to go to a natural medicine training but has no phone. We call the training place but they say there is no transport. Bri decides she is going to walk the 6 ½ km to the center, through the bush, at night, alone. Yeah right, we convince her to come to Lilongwe with us when we get a call saying they found a ride. We get to the drop off point and a little uncomfortably leave Bri to wait alone. Eventually all the other passengers get off except me, Adam and Greg. A few hours later the truck drops us pretty close to our rest house in Lilongwe. 12 ½ hours after we started, we got to Lilongwe. A 210 km trip, that should take 3 ½ to 4 hours.

So what did we do?

Dropped off our bags, ordered pizza, ate some ice cream, showered off our hookworms and mud, and went to sleep. Because you can do that when your destination is the city.

Basi