Day 5. Mon 14th August
Mwabvi
Breakfast,
like most of the Aska's offerings, is fairly uninspired - eggs on
bread, plus salad and some very soggy looking chips, both of which I
leave (not being sure exactly what the salad was washed in or the chips
fried in, if indeed they were fried!).
Isaac
arrives at eight with the bicycle boy, whose name is Anusi Dinyero, and
turns out to be the vice secretary of the Nsanje branch of the Bicycle
Transporters Association of Malawi - very impressive, and he has a nice
comfy bike too, with a padded rear seat and proper things on the back
axle to put your feet on. However there has been a bit of a
misunderstanding, as Isaac thought I wanted to hire him and his bicycle
for three days, whereas I was actually thinking of just hiring a
bicycle. I think he wanted about MK3000 a day, which is really not much
for a full time "driver", but I don't really want him hanging around
all day, and anyway, I won't need a bike to get to the primary school,
and the secondary school isn't all that far away either, so we agree
that he will take me up to Mwabvi now, and that's it, I'll find my own
way back. He is a bit disappointed, but accepts it with good grace.
It is about 10Km to the reserve - a good hour's ride, and is made
longer when my weight on the back causes one of his spokes to break.
However, getting bikes fixed in Malawi is not a problem, and there is a
"bicycle repair centre" (ie. a group of guys, with tools, sitting by
the side of the road) half way to Mwabvi, not far from where we break
down. We hang around while it is fixed, and are soon
on our
way again.
We get to the Mwabvi gatehouse about 10:30, and the old place hasn't
changed a bit! Gracious, who runs the park, has gone to Sorgin, a
nearby town, but his head guide Lester is there, with another park
worker, Maxon, whom I don't know. Lester is very pleased to see me
again, and we sit and chat for a while, then Maxon walks with me up to
the PAW site at Siki, and he and Patrick (known as "Toyota" for reasons
I have never quite managed to fathom) show me round. (His mate,
Mashero, known as "Isuzu", presumably for the same reasons, is off
sick). No one else is around, but I am informed that they are all off
cutting grass for thatching.
The site has changed a lot since I was here last year. The store and car
port are complete (and the roof has now been put on straight!) and
several other buildings are up, including the office block, a kitchen
and Oscar's house, which he is living in when he's here. They are even
wired for electricity, and have toilets and showers, although there are
no power or water supplies yet.
I return to the reserve gate and pass some time with Lester and his
family, and look at his pile of photographs given to him by various
people, including myself. He puts in a request for a photo of my house,
I must remember to send him one.
When I was here last year I passed on a donation of money to Bishop
Mtonga who
lives in Tisa, one of the villages between Bangula and Mwabvi. This was
to help them buy corrugated iron sheets for their church roof (some
things are just universal!). I noticed on my way up that there was
still no roof on the church, so I set off to walk back down to Tisa
with Lester. On the way we meet Phaloss,
our camp boy from last year, who cycles up with one of Lester's kids on the
back. He agrees to take me the rest of the way to Tisa and then on back
to Bangula, which is handy as no one in Tisa speaks English
The Rev. Mtonga is not at home, but I am informed, through Phaloss my
interpreter, that the money Gaynor gave was not enough to buy the
quantity of iron sheets required. There is no evidence of any iron
sheets or of any work having been done on the church at all.
Phaloss and I cycle onwards toward Bangula, but his bike is less able
to cope with my weight than Anusi's, and spokes are pinging off the
back wheel at an alarming rate. Finally we have to get off and walk the
last couple of miles, which at two o'clock in the afternoon is a bit to
hot for comfort, even at this time of year. I'm a bit short of small
change, but I give him what I have and buy him a cold Sprite at the
Aska.
As previously mentioned, the menu at the Aska is not exactly appetising
(and their spelling of "sandwich" is particularly exotic, even for
Malawi), so after a rest I wander down to the PTC and buy some tins of
beans and some cooked sausage.
Tobias Jeke, the crippled tailor, is sitting outside his shop as
always,
hoping for some work to be passed his way. At least he is asking for
work, not just begging for money, so I get him to sew the velcro
fixings back onto my shirt. I give him MK200 which is far to much for
the job, but still far too little.
I decide to walk up the airstrip and visit the mission run by Pastor
Will Bryan and his wife Pam,
but they are not there, they have had to go to Blantyre with a sick
baby. Visitors are always welcomed here, and I meet Kirsten, who is
from Germany but lives in Rochdale. She has a technical question about
backing up emails on her computer which, to my shame, I can't answer
off the top of my head, but I promise to find an answer for her if I can.
I am hardly back at the Aska when Isaac arrives and introduces me to
Lisboa Kariofasi, who, as well as being the local magistrate, is also
the
coach of Bangula United football team. PAW has had a huge donation of
kit and equipment from Liverpool
Football Club
which is currently on its way down to Bangula by land and sea, but
Gaynor brought some balls with her as an advance taster when she visited
in July. Mr. Kariofasi is a very nice chap, and thanks me profusely for
the balls. They will be practising at four o'clock tomorrow and he
invites me along to watch and take photos.
Isaac has arranged another meeting with Mr Makena, the secondary school
headmaster, so I go and have a much needed shower until he arrives.
When I return Isaac has gone, but Mr. Makena has arrived, and he and I talk about the project and agree to meet
at nine tomorrow at Kalambo Secondary School.
I take a gamble and risk the Aska's chicken and rice and unidentified
green stuff. We'll see how my stomach is tomorrow!