Death by mini-bus

So I am feeling rested now. I must admit, my last post was written after my twenty plus meetings in one week (not exaggerating) skipping lunches because I literally was running from meeting to meeting from 8-5, and staying up into the night writing my IP. I was pretty beat and was in need of a little break.

My new friend Jennifer has given that to me.

Jennifer is an English teacher in Zomba, which used to be the capitol of Malawi and is about one hour north of Blantyre. I met her through my last internship as she is part of a fellowship program that we administered in my office. Jennifer is fabulous. She has been so welcoming to me. She came down to Blantyre to pick me up (under horrible circumstances surrounding the death of her kitty - check it out on www.malawinme.blogspot.com)and brought me back to her home for the next few days where I will enjoy some real quiet, the beautiful mountains, greenery, and colonial buildings of Zomba, and fantastic home cooked meals.

More than anything, I appreciate not having to ride a mini-bus the "hour" here to Zomba. Because it is never ever an hour.

I know this because this past Sunday, Mairi and I took a day trip to Mt. Mulanje, the tallest mountain in this region and the heart of tea country in Malawi. And we got there by mini-bus.

I wish that I had the time to climb Mt. Mulanje, but that will have to wait for another trip. And possibly knee replacement surgery.

So we thought that a little trip out and lunch at the foot of the mountain would be the best possible option. The whole idea was to enjoy the scenic ride out to Mulaje through all the tea plantations, but when the big bus broke down we were left with the option of mini-bus.

It actually was a lovely (lovely for a minibus) ride out to the mountain. It was only about an hour and it was a fairly uneventful drive through some of the most beautiful country I have seen here. And that is saying something.

The way back is a whole other story. I had wanted to take pictures of the mountain from a distance and planned to snap them on our way back, but the speed simply would not allow for any picture taking. Plus I was a little preoccupied hoping that I wouldn't die or be injured in some painful way.

This guy was getting his money's worth out of all us passengers. When I say "all us" I mean a LOT of people. Now I expect mini-buses to be crowded. Packed even. Not just with people, but with bags, chickens, produce, and on this trip, even a bag of fragrant dried fish (ew). I expect mini-buses to be hot (that is why you sit near the back and by a window. I even expect them to be unpleasant. But somehow I did not expect the perpetual stopping and loading and unloading of people the WHOLE WAY.

I guess everyone on the way out wanted to get to Mulanje, but on the way back, people wanted to get on and off every few minutes. And the driver was all too eager to oblige and collect the fares.

Plus, I learned that people get to shop on their way places. You do not get on and just go. You stop at the little village markets the whole way - not to pick up people, but because the passengers want tomatoes at this market, and potatoes at the next, and then sweets at the one after that. Each market has its specialty. I was not aware of this phenomenon. I am all too aware of it now.

We would drive at breakneck speed for a few minutes and then he would jam on the breaks. Hard. And then we would linger. People wouldn't get out, but they would send market kids to go buy things for them. And we would sit there. And sit there. And sit there.

And the sun would just pour down on top of the mini-bus and we would bake, bake, bake.

I almost looked forward to when we would get going again just to feel the breeze. Until I realized how fast we were going and how we almost ran over that whole group of kids.

I started to laugh at myself. And this is why......

I brought a whole pharmacy with me: eyedrops, gas-x, enough Imodium for a small country, cipro, Sudafed, bite cream, suncream, insect repellant, cough drops, Advil, diflucan, malaria pills, oral rehydration salts, you name it...I brought it. And haven't needed or used more than 1% of it (yet that is, please don't let this hex me). It all seems so silly to me now that I am here.

What I do is this: I do boil my water, I do buy bottled water. I even used my little uv-light purifier once. I wash my hands. I take my malaria pills and sleep with a bed net. I will put on suncream if I am really going to be outside in the middle of the day for a long time and I put bug cream on my feet when I am going to be walking through grass (I started this after getting a number of bites my first day in Blantyre). But that's it. Really, sometimes I even forget to pay attention. Ask my friends how I panicked after forgetting not to drink beverages with ice. I just forgot.

So I was laughing at myself in the mini-bus because after all the initial precautions, and even considering the reduced amount of things I do now that I am here, I just did the most dangerous thing ever. I got on a minibus for a long drive.

In the end, it really wasn't so bad. In fact, looking back, it actually was fun. An experience to be had. I normally just take them around town, but this was quite a trip and it was worth it because it's the only way to get from here to there unless you are going to the major cities and can take a coachline bus.

So it was fun, and I wouldn't change it. I am sure I will have to do it again.

But I was happy to get into Jennifer's air conditioned Toyota for the trip to Zomba.