The Zomba Road

The road between Blantyre and Zomba was the first tarmac road in Malawi, joining the colonial capital of Zomba with the commercial center of the land. Both cities have grown since independence came to Malawi in 1964 but the road has remained the original narrow, snaking two lane tarmac, now with crumbling edges and filled potholes. That is until June of this year. That is when road reconstruction began. This is something that has been talked about for over 10 year, so to see it actually happening is an encouragement on one level and a challenge on another.

The encouragement is that it will make a great difference in travel time and travel safety once it is completed. It is an indication of developmental progress being made in the country as such infrastructures are keys to progress, to growth. This is great hope for the future. The challenge is living through the construction. Preparations for this have been in the works for well over a year, as land was bought up alongside the existing road, and trees back from the roadway were bought and cut down to make way for the expansion of the road and for “diversions,” Malawi’s alternative to detours. A diversion is a temporary dirt roadway parallel to the road being constructed. In June the diversions were started and subsequently the actual road construction was begun at the locations where the diversions were build. The project is moving forward with gusto. Almost 40 kilometers of the 70 kilometer road has diversions, and construction, at various levels, is underway.



Minibus zooming along the diversion.

Last week, I had to make a trip to Zomba. I was warned that the diversions would be rough on my small car, so a friend offered to drive her 4 wheel truck, since we also had items to transport. I was grateful for the higher and smoother ride – not that it was all that smooth, given the makeshift nature of the road. The idea is that the diversion is only temporary. It is just cleared dirt, roughly provided to make vehicle passage possible around the work. The diversions are dusty at the moment. Once the rains come, they will be muddy and rutted. But they serve their purpose. Speed limits of 40 kilometers per hour are posted, which slow travel considerable. In places that is not even a safe speed, but the minibuses don’t take that into consideration. They still feel they need to make time to make money, so they only go as slowly as the traffic in front of them, and pass as soon as they can, raising a screen of dust. This gives graphic meaning to the phrase, “Eat my dust.” The old trip of an hour took us an hour and 50 minutes.. This will increase as the work areas expand over the next 2 years of the projected time of construction. We arrived dust covered – passengers and vehicle. Since this is the primary access to Zomba from Blantyre, I’m sure I will be adjusting to the dust and the roughness. As I contemplated this on the long trip back, I realized it could be worse. I could be sitting still in traffic on the Parkway East in Pittsburgh, trying to negotiate the construction of the Squirrel Hill Tunnels, taking an hour to go 5 miles. At least traffic is moving on the Zomba road – dusty but moving.

A Tire Saga

Car tires take a beating here. Between the rough roads that cause suspension and balance problems and obstacles that easily puncture tires and the heat that weakens them, tires need constant watching and frequent changing. Even when you’re careful, you will still have tire adventures.

I was driving back from Zomba the Wednesday day and was stopped at a police check, a routine event. The office who stopped me said that my one back tire looked worn and I should check it. When I got home, I did and it was worn, the result of a suspension problem that had been corrected, but not before damage had been done to the tire. Yesterday I asked Maxwell to change it with the spare. He had difficulty, since he had loaned the tire jack to Sam Ncozana and hadn’t gotten it back. He borrowed one from the mechanic here at the Synod and changed the tire, but reported that the other tire was worn as well. This all happened late in the afternoon. The problem was that we did not have another spare and today, Friday, is a holiday here and everything is closed. We didn’t have time to get new tires. I had planned to drive a some folks to Nyala Park in Chikwawa as a holiday treat, but that was out of the question with worn tires. We canceled the trip for another time. I knew the tires were not so bad that I couldn’t go to the church this afternoon for a meeting, so I went ahead with those plans.

As I drove along the main road, on the way to the church, a fellow pointed at my front tire, not the one I had been worried about. I pulled over to discover that it was going flat. Now I was away from home, a small distance, true, but away, with a flat tire, a worn spare but no jack. I called Sam for help but he was out of town for the holiday. I called Maxwell, but he was away for the day, too. I tried calling some of the church members who were to be at the meeting I was to attend but could not reach them. Then Sam called back and said that he had called his friend Iman to come and assist me. He is a fellow who had driven for me once, so I know him. Sam has known him since childhood, a delightful young man. In less than half an hour he was there with his cousin Christopher to assist him. He knew I had no jack, but the one he had was made for his big truck and the wrench was too large for the lug nuts on my car. He needed to get a different one. He said he would take me home and then get a different wrench. I said I would stay with the car, to be certain it was safe.. As we were discussing this, Amos, my night watchman arrived. Maxwell had called him to come and do what he could to assist me. He would stay with the car and Iman could drop me at the house. That was settled. But Amos was concerned about me getting into a car with a stranger. I had to assure him that I knew Iman and I was safe. He was assured and off we went.

Within an hour they returned to the house, the tire changed. So here I sit in the comfort of my home and Iman, Christopher and Amos all back to their own business. I won’t be able to attend by meeting today (ahh shucks) and I’m not certain how many tires I will need to buy tomorrow, but I have been well cared for in the midst of tire problems. I am blessed.

Police Voices

Choirs are common place in churches in Malawi. Limbe has seven of them and they take turns participating in the services. So it takes a lot for a particular choir to grab attention. But this past Sunday a choir sang at Limbe that caused me to pause.

First it was a men’s choir. That in itself is unique. Women sing in Mvano choirs and even travel to one another’s churches, especially to other districts of the country, to share music and experiences. Young men sing in youth choirs and occasionally the young men will form a quartet within the choir, but they are clearly youth, young men not yet married. It is most rare to have men’s choir.



Christ's Ambassadors singing at Limbe



But this choir was even more distinctive. These men were all police officers, posted at the Police Training School (PTS) in Blantyre. Limbe has a prayer house at the PTS site. It is under the session of Limbe CCAP, which means that it does not have a large enough or steady enough eldership to support a church. Since the majority of the folks at PTS are in training, they are there only a year or so and then are out in the field, assigned to other locations. The instructors at PTS are consistent, but they are not numerous enough to support a church, so they remain a prayer house of Limbe. Police officers in Malawi have a spotty reputation, to say the least. Some are aggressive, if not violent. Some are heavy drinkers and some are corrupt, willing to take bribes for anything from a small traffic offense to a major crime. Especially after the riots of July 20, 2011, people are suspicious of police officers because of the violence that happened at what was to be a peaceful demonstration. But that is not all police by any means. This choir is made up of police officers who have made a commitment to Christ and want to have a positive witness with their lives. They call themselves Christ’ Ambassadors. They sing to the glory of God and they sing to make a statement about who they are as men of God. It was thrilling to hear their strong voices raised in harmony and praise to God. The congregation was as impressed as I was. They applauded and asked them to sing a second song. The officers agreed. The congregation showed their approval by standing and clapping with them as they sang. It was a stirring moment and a powerful witness to Christ’s power in a man’s life.

Day's Inn Malawi

Hospitality is part of life in Malawi and it is a big part of my home, since I help to coordinate the schedules of visitors to Blantyre Synod, especially international visitors. That is one of the reasons that I have a four bedroom house. It functions more like an inn than a house – Day’s Inn Malawi. That is the name some of my friends have given it Sometimes it fits, like now.

About two months ago, we made arrangements with the Synod of Zambia to host their Women’s Desk Coordination, Rose Haraba, and provide training for her. I worked with our Women’s Desk Coordinator on the details, but the one question was where would she stay? With me, of course. I have the room. She arrived June 4 to stay for three weeks of training. In the meantime, my Australian friends ran into a snag. Grace Bandawe, where they always stay, had been overbooked so we needed to find accommodations for some of them. John and Sue, expats here from Australia, could take three and I could take three, as long as two were married and could share a room. I knew there were two married couples on the trip, so that would work. It was all arranged. They arrived June 13 and that gave me a full house. While Rose here by herself, Thomas came down for a few days and filled one of the spare rooms. They had a great time together (Chikwawa Shopping). He knew the schedule and left shortly before the Aussies arrived.



Day's Inn Malawi



The Aussies have an ambitious schedule and are out in the rural areas of the Synod for parts of each week. The three who are staying with me are among those who travel. Diane is working at Chigodi Monday through Thursday and is staying there during that time. Her husband Doug and his building partner Steve are out at work sites Monday through Friday. This week they are staying at the sites. I thought that would leave Rose and me alone this week, but on Monday afternoon Rev. Bessie Liwonde, one of my former students who has adopted me as a mom, arrived with the announcement that she would be staying through Friday while she attends a conference here in Blantyre. I knew Steve’s room would be empty, so we quickly rearranged a few things and changed the bedding. She will leave Friday morning. We will change the bed and prepare the room for Steve’s return, like any good inn would do. But Day’s Inn is more like a Bed and Breakfast, as folks get a night’s sleep, a hardy breakfast and are off for the day’s activities. Evening dinners may be for those who are staying here or for them and a number more. Friday of this week the Aussie team, Rose and whoever else is around will be here for dinner. I’m counting on at least 16 at this point. Reservations are not required.

This is not unusual. This is the norm for the busy season of visitors. I jokingly call this “Alendo Season.”  (Alendo means visitor.) Last year I had a period of four months in which I had just two days when I did not have overnight guests. It makes life interesting. I get to know so many wonderful people that I would not have the opportunity to know otherwise, from all over the world. In the next few weeks, before I leave for the States, there are folks coming from Korea, Ireland and the US to add to my Zambian and Australian friends. Then my Malawian family and friends come and go as well. It is a delight to have an open house and help people feel part of the Warm Heart of Africa. But the truth is that I am not doing anything unusual. This is Malawian hospitality. It would be unthinkable to not welcome folks and make room for them in your life. A Malawian proverb says that a house is blessed if it has visitors. Mine is greatly blessed

The Aussies Have Arrived

Partnership takes many faces. Actually, no two partnerships are alike, just as no two people are alike. That is as it should be. So the Australians of the Presbyterian Church of Victoria bring their own flavor and style when they come to work with their partners in Blantyre Synod. And work is the operative word. They come to work alongside their partners.

The preparation for this work began in January when they began gathering materials and plans for what they would do while here for a month. The materials were particularly important. They gathered tools for roofing and mechanical repairs. They collected sewing materials and machines to assist in tailoring classes, books and computers for classroom instruction. The list seemed endless as they filled two forty foot sea containers for Malawi and one for Zambia. These arrived two weeks before the Australian team did, (see The Container) so that everything was in readiness for their arrival. In the meantime they were gathering the team that would use these materials – 2 auto mechanics, a computer tech who also would work with the builder, 3 ladies to teach home crafts at Chigodi, 2 young girls to work with youth, a nurse and 2 pastors. Emails flowed back and forth between the Generals Secretary and the leader of the team, the 2 Australians who are in residences here at the moment and various team members, and Chigodi staff and the ladies who were planning projects for the Chigodi skills class. They had collected money to support these projects as well and that was wired. On this end, we purchased the materials that were not shipped but were needed for these projects – iron sheets for roofs, plaster board for ceilings, car parts. All this awaited their arrival.





Mvano welcoming their Aussie partners



Aussie Team being welcomed



The Aussies arrived on Wednesday to a warm welcome at Chileka Airport, with the Synod officials, the Partnership committee members and Mvano to sing. Despite the fact that they had been traveling for 32 hours, they were ready for a welcome dinner that evening. But that was the end of the festivities. Thursday it was to work for the whole team. The team leader, Rev. John Wilson, and his colleague Rev. David Brown met with the General Secretary and finalized preaching and teaching schedules. The mechanics reported to the Synod garage to begin machinery repairs – cars and other motorized equipment. The builder and his assistant were on the roof of a house at Chigodi by 8:30 a.m., repairing the roof so they could then replace the ceiling in the rooms affected by the roof’s leaking. Everyone else was following up with the folks with whom they would be working, to be certain that everything was in place. Over the weekend, they led a seminar in Zomba, and visited a prison and then were in 3 different churches on Sunday to preach and share. They had arranged for Bibles to be bought here and distributed them to the churches they visited.

As I write, the groups are at work all over the Synod. Two are working with the Youth Department in the schools, 3 are at Chigodi, 2 are roofing a church, 2 are repairing machinery, 1 is working with BSHDC at the medical clinics and the 2 pastors are conducting a pastors’ workshop. This program will continue for the month they are here. Their energy and their giving is a blessing to all they come in contact with. The impact of their time here will be felt long after they return to Australia. That is the blessing of partnership.

Chikwawa Shopping

The Women’s Desk Coordinator from Zambia Synod is in Blantyre for three weeks of information exchanges. Yesterday was the only free day on her schedule so we decided to take advantage of it to take her to Nyala Animal Park in Chikwawa. Thomas was in Blantyre for the day as well, so he joined me, our guest Rose Haraba and Maxwell, who was eager to drive. We set off in a light rain, with confidence that as we drove down to the lower Shire that the clouds would clear. We were correct. As we started the descent on the winding road, each turn brought a better view of the landscape and clearer skies. We could see the charcoal venders along the side of the road. Thomas said he had promised Terse, my housekeeper, that he would get her charcoal, since it is cheaper in the rural areas. I said we couldn’t do for one staff member and not the others, so I would buy for each of the staff on the way back. Maxwell was thrilled. But this introduced a discussion of other goods that are available at a good price in the lower Shire, a fertile growing area. Suddenly the trip had changed from sightseeing to shopping, but on the way back, they promised.



Giraffe inspecting the car



Nyala is a small animal park located on the Illovo Sugar Plantation. It is small in the physical size and small in the animals’ sizes – antelope, zebra, giraffe and monkeys mostly. I was the only one who had been there before, so there was great enthusiasm for the sighting of animals. I drove through the park, since I know the roads. Maxwell and Thomas took advantage of the sunroof of the car by opening it and standing with their heads out to get a better view of the animals. They took the pictures from their enhanced vantage point.  Rose sat in the front with me, delighted to have such a close view of the animals she had only seen in pictures before. The animals were cooperative and poised for us in the middle of the road at some points, just a few feet from the car.



Thomas negotiating



This was meant to be the high point of the trip and we did enjoy it, but the real delight came as we started back to Blantyre and Thomas began his negotiations with vendors all the way up the mountain. The roadside shopping commenced just a few kilometers outside the park when we stopped for maize – corn – on the cob. There were some women at the side of the road with stalks of maize. They rushed to the car as we pulled over. Thomas jumped out and engaged them in conversation, as if he had known them all his life. After about 5 minutes of discussions, he motioned for Maxwell to open the back of the car and the ladies dumped an arm full of cobs into the car. Thomas climbed in, waving to the ladies, everyone satisfied with the transaction. At the market area at the foot of the mountain we stopped again. Here the car was swarmed by vendors with all sorts of produce. The main objective was to buy small birds on a stick, a delicacy, from Thomas’ and Maxwell’s perspective. Rose was enthused for the purchase as well. I asked Thomas to negotiate for bananas, a much safer food, from my perspective. Most of the vendors moved to the back of the car with Thomas, but one persisted in ask me to buy her papayas. We finally agreed on a price and I sent her to Thomas for payment. When he finished his business, we had 10 sticks of birds, a bunch of bananas, 4 papaya, and a bag of masawu, small berries, for Maxwell’s wife. Negotiating takes time. These transactions took about half an hour.



Thomas and Maxwell with
the purchases



As we climbed the mountain, we inspected the charcoal sellers. Thomas indicated one place for Maxwell to pull over. He got out and negotiated for some time but then got back in the car. The prices were too high. We moved on to one further up the mountain. We were looking for 4 bags, one for each of my staff members and one for Thomas’ sisters. After ten minutes of discussions, he decided to buy two there, since the seller had come down in price, but not as much as he wished. But Maxwell had found brooms that he was very pleased with. The produce was moved to the back seat and the charcoal and brooms placed in the back of the car.  Further up the mountain, Thomas spotted another vendor he thought looked like he would negotiate well and we pulled over. This one was willing to come to a better price, but the problem was that he had no change. I had run out of small bills and all I had were the new MK1,000 notes. That is too large a bill for a small roadside vendor, but Thomas didn’t let that stop the transaction. He flagged down a passing car and asked the driver if he might have change for MK1,000. He did. Thomas finished the negotiations with the vendors and carefully closed the tailgate of the car. The back was loaded with charcoal. As we proceeded up the mountain, Thomas regaled us with details of the lives of all the folks he had negotiated with, including the gentleman in the car who gave him change. In the midst of his negotiation, he had made a point to make the conversations personal. While this is Malawian, it is also Thomas, my social son, who can turn a purchase into a social contact and an opportunity to witness. From his perspective, the negotiations were the joy of the trip. From Maxwell’s the purchases themselves were. From Rose’s it was the animals. From mine, it was the fun of watching all of this unfold around the car.

Bad Dog Bruce

Bruce, the bad dog, has struck – again. Bruce is supposed to be our watch dog, but the only thing he seems good at watching for is trouble to get into. His favorite thing is pulling clean clothes off the wash line and dragging them through the dust or enticing his companion Diesel to play “tug of war” with the clothing – baby’s diapers, skirts, bras or hand crochet doilies. He is not fussy. His next most favorite thing is digging. He was a Houdini at digging his way out of his fenced enclosure, until he got too big. Now he entertains himself digging up whatever Maxwell, the gardener, plants.



Bad Dog Bruce



Last Monday, Maxwell got some cuttings of Pampas Grass to serve as a border along the walk and along the fence. He planted along the walk first. His plan was to compost the area around the fence and then plant it the next day. He was very proud of the walkway planting. It did look nice. Tuesday morning about 7 a.m. Maxwell impatiently knocked at the front door. When I opened it, he demanded that I come out and see what “my” dog had done to his newly planted walkway. When he is bad, Bruce is “my” dog. Every new plant had been dug up and more holes added to the path. I suppressed a smile as I reminded him that this was the dog that he had begged me for for months and had promised that he would care for him because we needed the security of a dog. He sneered that the only thing that dog secured were holes, and he walked away. He was not claiming ownership of such a bad dog. He spent the day replanting the pathway and working on the fence area. By dinner time the replanting and new planting were complete. Amos, the watchman, was given firm instructions by Maxwell to keep Bruce out of the gardens when he was turned loose to “guard” the area after dark. Amos just smiled and nodded. He would do his best.



Amos and Maxwell building the fence



Wednesday morning the insistent knock came again. Bruce had ignored the walkway but had started on the area in front of the fence. Amos had stopped him, but only after he had dug up half the row. I suggested that maybe Maxwell needed to fence the area, until the plants had taken root and matured to the point that they were no longer of interest to Bruce. Maxwell’s face brightened as he envisioned a fence. By lunch time he and Amos had the materials and by dinner the bamboo fence was erected. He and Amos were certain that it would stop the digging. I was hopeful, but not as certain. But they had a plan. Amos kept one of the bamboo stocks and used it as a rod, a deterrent any time Bruce came close to the fence during the night. Bruce soon lost interest in the plants and went looking of other trouble to get into.

All was quiet the rest of the week. This morning, as I left for church, Bruce scooted past Amos and out the gate as I was driving out. This afternoon when I returned, Amos greeted me with a question. Had I gotten a rooster that I had not told him about?  I said no and asked why. He said when he captured Bruce this morning there was a rooster with him in the yard. Amos had put it in the empty pen we have in the back yard, to keep Bruce from eating it. It seems that in his brief escape from the yard, Bruce had stolen a rooster. He had chased it into the yard, planning it for his dinner, I’m sure.. As I write this, Amos has taken the rooster and is searching for its owner. Bad Dog Bruce is in his encloser. He has struck again.