I spent the weekend in Lilongwe and had a great time. I needed to get out of Mchinji more than I knew. I had a pretty productive week and was glad to be leaving work and my computer behind for even 30 hours (it's actually hard to believe it was such a short time--it felt like I was there for three days at least).
We left Saturday morning, taking a minibus into town. I'd been in matatus in Kenya, but only around town and not for any long distance. Fortunately, Malawi minibuses have to close the door, so no oneís hanging out the side. But, the whole thing did remind me a bit of the Chinatown buses in their infancy. It's like $2.50 to get into Lilongwe, and about an hour or so travel time, mostly because they speed like crazy. So all 7 of us azungus cram into the back of the bus and head in. Thankfully, I knew that they expect passports at the checkpoints, because I usually never travel with mine on my body. We only had to get out at one of them (there are two checks on the way in). All in all, an uneventful ride (save getting a slight headache from the van's fumes and the loud music).
We hop out at a gas station across from where we're staying and headed over to meet people who were already there (we were cramming into their rooms-they'd been there all week for a conference). The place felt like a palace compared to Mchinji. Granted, itís one of the nicer hotels in Lilongwe, but there was something so western and luxurious about even basic things that already felt extravagant having been out in the sticks for three weeks. We quickly found our way to the pool and hung out there for some time, catching sun and then catching up.
The main purpose of the trip was to go to a 4th of July party that the US Ambassador has at his house. The details we knew were sketchy and came from peace corps volunteers, someone passing through a backpacker lodge in Lilongwe, and finally, a friend of a friend in Lilongwe who went to the Holiday party there in December and had an idea of the drill. Essentially, you wave your passport and are in. So we piled into three taxis (the herd-like travel felt a bit like freshman year of college with 14 people going to the dining hall together) and went over.
To say that this place is a compound is an understatement. We didn't know exactly where we were going, but then saw a sea of SUVs (the official expat-mobile) and knew we were close. Signs directed to the side gate, and that street was lined with even more SUVs. We walk through the gate, past the Malawi security guards to be greeted by this big American dude, a silver-haired Dad with wrap around sunglasses, a red polo shirt and shorts. My general hater-ation and cynical nature may have been feeding how odd it all seemed and what a culture shock it was to suddenly be interacting with only Americans after the gate guard. But it was pretty weird.
MK500 (like $4.50) got you three drinks and two hamburgers/hot dogs. The food line was really long, giving ample time to scope things out. I think the thing that was most shocking in those first 5 minutes there was seeing someone wearing a College Republicans shirt in public. There were a lot of families and a lot of other 20/30-something kind of people. Once I made it up there, the food was classic: burgers (which were likely not beef; if they were, I don't know why they were that color), hot dogs, baked beans, cole slaw and potato chips. Complete with hologram stars and stripes paper products. Homemade desserts (including bars, thank god) rounded off the patriotic gluttony. The guy who gave me my coke light was from the state department. And there were a lot of southern accents happening. Also weird.
The 20-somethings were overwhelmingly Peace Corps people, a few of whom are based in Mchinji and people in our group had met around. A bunch of them were playing guitar on stage; all wore red white and blue cowboy hats. There was also someone dressed like Uncle Sam. I never do stuff like this at home, so it was weird to do it anywhere, but especially in Malawi. It was just a totally alternate reality--the grass was green (it's too dry here to have green grass anywhere else), a lit basketball court, huge house, etc.
Once it all sunk in a bit, I actually quite enjoyed myself. There was a water balloon toss, in which my partner and I got fairly close to winning; a water balloon relay; potato sack races; and limbo. It was nice to be able to relax for a while, sit on the grass and just chill. It was really easy to forget that like a quarter of a mile away is a village of really poor people. It was probably designed exactly for that reason, and it worked for as long as I was there.
Once back to the hotel, we watched some (bad south african) tv and rested before dinner, which was delicious Indian food across the street. It was so nice to be able to choose food by cuisine and be able to walk to get it. Some people were going out after; others went to crash.
I rallied and went dancing at Harry's, which was also a lot of fun. They played pretty good music (mostly hip-hop and good mixes of some pop stuff, mixed in with your random Zambian/Malawian reggae), and there was a decent crowd there. There was almost a fight with this guy who was pretty drunk who kept trying to dance with a bunch of different women (including the ones I was with). Some guys, including one I was with, handled him really well, but I was really expecting a full on fight at one point. It's the small things, like knowing that his ass would have been kicked out if we were in Boston, that are so much more indicative of the culture differences. But he paid his 300 Kwacha ($2) cover and could stay there and drink for as long as he wanted. We were there for about an hour and a half or two and then split. Although not before a large contingent of Canadians came in sporting some SERIOUS Canadian pride for Canada Day. I'm talking all red and white, girls with small flags stuck in their ponytails, flags painted on t shirts and cheeks. Also not before catching sight of a fem-mullet on some other white chick. A full night to say the least.
The following morning consisted of a lavish, complementary, breakfast, a trip to the big grocery store to stock up on stuff, and hanging out before getting a ride (rock) with someone who was heading out to Mchinji.
We left Saturday morning, taking a minibus into town. I'd been in matatus in Kenya, but only around town and not for any long distance. Fortunately, Malawi minibuses have to close the door, so no oneís hanging out the side. But, the whole thing did remind me a bit of the Chinatown buses in their infancy. It's like $2.50 to get into Lilongwe, and about an hour or so travel time, mostly because they speed like crazy. So all 7 of us azungus cram into the back of the bus and head in. Thankfully, I knew that they expect passports at the checkpoints, because I usually never travel with mine on my body. We only had to get out at one of them (there are two checks on the way in). All in all, an uneventful ride (save getting a slight headache from the van's fumes and the loud music).
We hop out at a gas station across from where we're staying and headed over to meet people who were already there (we were cramming into their rooms-they'd been there all week for a conference). The place felt like a palace compared to Mchinji. Granted, itís one of the nicer hotels in Lilongwe, but there was something so western and luxurious about even basic things that already felt extravagant having been out in the sticks for three weeks. We quickly found our way to the pool and hung out there for some time, catching sun and then catching up.
The main purpose of the trip was to go to a 4th of July party that the US Ambassador has at his house. The details we knew were sketchy and came from peace corps volunteers, someone passing through a backpacker lodge in Lilongwe, and finally, a friend of a friend in Lilongwe who went to the Holiday party there in December and had an idea of the drill. Essentially, you wave your passport and are in. So we piled into three taxis (the herd-like travel felt a bit like freshman year of college with 14 people going to the dining hall together) and went over.
To say that this place is a compound is an understatement. We didn't know exactly where we were going, but then saw a sea of SUVs (the official expat-mobile) and knew we were close. Signs directed to the side gate, and that street was lined with even more SUVs. We walk through the gate, past the Malawi security guards to be greeted by this big American dude, a silver-haired Dad with wrap around sunglasses, a red polo shirt and shorts. My general hater-ation and cynical nature may have been feeding how odd it all seemed and what a culture shock it was to suddenly be interacting with only Americans after the gate guard. But it was pretty weird.
MK500 (like $4.50) got you three drinks and two hamburgers/hot dogs. The food line was really long, giving ample time to scope things out. I think the thing that was most shocking in those first 5 minutes there was seeing someone wearing a College Republicans shirt in public. There were a lot of families and a lot of other 20/30-something kind of people. Once I made it up there, the food was classic: burgers (which were likely not beef; if they were, I don't know why they were that color), hot dogs, baked beans, cole slaw and potato chips. Complete with hologram stars and stripes paper products. Homemade desserts (including bars, thank god) rounded off the patriotic gluttony. The guy who gave me my coke light was from the state department. And there were a lot of southern accents happening. Also weird.
The 20-somethings were overwhelmingly Peace Corps people, a few of whom are based in Mchinji and people in our group had met around. A bunch of them were playing guitar on stage; all wore red white and blue cowboy hats. There was also someone dressed like Uncle Sam. I never do stuff like this at home, so it was weird to do it anywhere, but especially in Malawi. It was just a totally alternate reality--the grass was green (it's too dry here to have green grass anywhere else), a lit basketball court, huge house, etc.
Once it all sunk in a bit, I actually quite enjoyed myself. There was a water balloon toss, in which my partner and I got fairly close to winning; a water balloon relay; potato sack races; and limbo. It was nice to be able to relax for a while, sit on the grass and just chill. It was really easy to forget that like a quarter of a mile away is a village of really poor people. It was probably designed exactly for that reason, and it worked for as long as I was there.
Once back to the hotel, we watched some (bad south african) tv and rested before dinner, which was delicious Indian food across the street. It was so nice to be able to choose food by cuisine and be able to walk to get it. Some people were going out after; others went to crash.
I rallied and went dancing at Harry's, which was also a lot of fun. They played pretty good music (mostly hip-hop and good mixes of some pop stuff, mixed in with your random Zambian/Malawian reggae), and there was a decent crowd there. There was almost a fight with this guy who was pretty drunk who kept trying to dance with a bunch of different women (including the ones I was with). Some guys, including one I was with, handled him really well, but I was really expecting a full on fight at one point. It's the small things, like knowing that his ass would have been kicked out if we were in Boston, that are so much more indicative of the culture differences. But he paid his 300 Kwacha ($2) cover and could stay there and drink for as long as he wanted. We were there for about an hour and a half or two and then split. Although not before a large contingent of Canadians came in sporting some SERIOUS Canadian pride for Canada Day. I'm talking all red and white, girls with small flags stuck in their ponytails, flags painted on t shirts and cheeks. Also not before catching sight of a fem-mullet on some other white chick. A full night to say the least.
The following morning consisted of a lavish, complementary, breakfast, a trip to the big grocery store to stock up on stuff, and hanging out before getting a ride (rock) with someone who was heading out to Mchinji.
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