February 2011. Friends were coming to stay at our house for the weekend. Two days before they were to  arrive, my sister decided we had to tell them. I thought it wasn’t a big deal, but then again, when you’ve had the same recurring (highly contagious) infection for, oh about 8 months, it probably shouldn’t be taken lightly. I had a severe staph infection.  And by severe, I mean I was scrambling to get my health insurance in order, after hearing about someone my brother-in-law knew that died because it got into his bloodstream. Severe in that in a matter of two days the redness had spread from the spots under my arm to about six inches down my arm. Severe in that in just three days from noticing it, I was unable to easily lift my arm. I was in excruciating pain. I couldn’t sleep. I was taking one of the strongest antibiotics on the market and with no signs of improvement, my doctor doubled the dosage, and I had to also put antibiotic cream up my nose. I even tried tumeric as an alternative therapy. I don’t think I had ever been so worried about my health.

So how did I get to that point?

Rewind. August 2010. I arrived in Cape Town at 2am and crashed at my ride’s apartment. I woke up the next morning and my lip was sticking off my face. I felt like a duck. I looked so funny that to walk around Cape Town I held my upper lip in by biting it with my lower teeth. It was most likely where the staph infection originated, since your face is a common place to get it. This was probably staph incident number one on my rtw trip. My mom works for a doctor so to the left is the photo I sent her of me trying to smile.

Then in October 2010, I got an infection in my leg while in Malaysia. It looked like a bug bite. Then, it started to get bigger. I put some neosporin on it. It continued to get larger. It started to hurt to walk, and when I sat down, you could visibly see a lump on my leg through my pants. I went through three different types of antibiotic creams. I was in denial, hoping that it would drain on its own, but at the insistence of my friend, I realized I needed to visit the doctor. It wasn’t like your typical doctor’s office with a nurse and a receptionist; it was a one man show. We discussed Kentucky Fried Chicken longer than we discussed my ailment. He decided I had been “stung”. Seeing as how the spot was on my upper leg (it would have been covered with clothing at all times), I didn’t believe him. But I had just returned from Bali where I had been in a swimsuit, so maybe he was right. I left with some penicillin, and the following evening the pressure finally became too great, and it drained about halfway. It took the spot about six weeks to get back to being flush with my skin. But, I thought that was the end of it.

Until February 2011. A spot appeared under my arm. I ignored it. I went for a 10 mile run and returned with two spots under my arm (clearly, sweat and rubbing against my own skin did not help). I stupidly ignored them and shaved (note: razors spread staph). They grew rapidly and burned. I had put ‘Get health insurance’ on my to do list but hadn’t gotten around to it. I got on the phone asap. By this point, it dawned on me (and everyone else) that this was most likely a staph infection.

Infection Day 2

Infection Day 4 (I circled the spreading)

I was using warm compresses and antibiotic creams. I sought help, as stated in the start of the post, but in just a few days I was not able to lift my arm- well, it scared me.  Luckily, the swelling started to go down, and it didn’t have to be drained. I have scarring from it, but I’ll take that any day over the alternatives.

The staph infection was probably one of the worst incidences from my trip. However, it wasn’t the only one. Here are some other medical issues I came across:

April 2010: Food poisoning in Jordan. When it wouldn’t go away on its own, I had to start using the prescription meds that I had brought on my trip.

June 2010: Hit by a motorbike in Malawi. Bruised or cracked a few ribs. If you can, steer clear of getting hit by any motorized vehicle. This one took me two solid months to recover. Aside from the obvious pain, and the fact that I wasn’t able to sit up on my own for two months (I had to roll over on my side and push myself up to get out of bed), my body physically couldn’t sneeze during that time. I had moments of hopelessness when I was itching to run and wondering how long it would take to heal.

October 2010: The week before my staph infection in Malaysia, I caught a virus that left me throwing up in Bali. It was draining and I had to hole up in the hotel room for a day and a half.

I think that about covers the major medical incidents. I got a couple of colds along the way and I also stopped taking malaria meds due to side effects, but that’s about it. My friend that I traveled with in southeast Asia battled eye infections. Which, funnily enough, when we traveled together a couple of years ago in Africa, she also had eye issues and I also got skin infections (but that time in my foot). We follow a pattern. We both had worldwide travel insurance, and during our first trip to Africa it more than paid for itself between our medical bills. Let’s hope, though, that we’ve put an end to the pattern!

I’m keeping my fingers crossed because I have a clean bill of health and hope it will continue to be that way for many months (okay, I leave for South Africa in six weeks…  Africa isn’t always kind to me in the health department).

What have been your worst ailments on the road?

Shopping for fabrics in Nkhata Bay

After arriving at Nkhata Bay via a local ferry, we dragged our tired selves to one of the most popular lodges in Nkhata Bay: Mayoka Village. Situated on a sloping hillside in Nkhata Bay, it offers camping, dorms, and cute chalets that are more like cozy cabins. I stayed in a dorm with another girl, while two of our friends camped, and two of our friends stayed in a chalet. We arrived right after Ghana beat USA, so the bar was crazy- there was lots of music and celebration.  It seemed like a fun scene, but being that I was tired, I showered and went to bed. Although I had no problems falling asleep, my last memory was of hearing the Barack Obama song (of course the next day a dance evolved to go along with the song). I tried to find it online so I could share it with you, but it appears that the African market is flooded with Barack Obama songs.

Relaxing at Mayoka Village
The next morning, I awoke and walked down the stone steps to the bar and lounge area that overlooks the lake. Keep in mind, my friends and I spent nearly a week on the islands where food sources were extremely limited. Rice, beans, and eggs are only exciting for so long. When we sat down for breakfast and opened the menus, it was like being in food heaven. There was muesli, yogurt, fresh fruit, sausage, thick slices of bread: oh the decisions! We ordered a hearty breakfast, sampling a variety of dishes, as we soaked up the morning sun. It was so good! The menu also listed all of Mayoka Village‘s activities- there is a free boat trip one day, a free dinner on another, free live music one night, and the list goes on. Not only are their specific activities on any given day, but you can always take them up on free snorkeling or canoeing. I was extremely jealous that I wouldn’t be there on the day of the free boat trip to go cliff-jumping. The last time I did that was off of a waterfall in Hawaii- I love that sort of thing! I can see how people come to Nkhata Bay for a few days and end up staying a week. Unfortunately, I already had a bus booked from Lilongwe and had to move on.

The oh-so-awesome dressmaker

Dressmaker, dressmaker, make me a dress…
After having a good laugh on the Ilala Ferry’s delayed arrival to Nkhata Bay, we got ready and headed into town for a day of shopping and football.  I picked up some local fabric and had a tailor make a really cute dress for me. Of course, I didn’t think it would hold up to the harshness of backpacking, so I sadly shipped it home. I also bargained with a rasta on some beautiful carved wooden tables, sight unseen. He overheard me discussing what I wanted and told me he had what I was looking for back in his village an hour away. We settled on a price (cash, a hole-y pair of shoes, and a t-shirt) and agreed to meet in town at a bar later. In the afternoon, the 10 of us who had been traveling together on the lake, met at a bar in town to watch the England-Germany match. It was playing on a large screen and locals and tourists gathered for the big match. As we walked out of the bar, at the conclusion of Germany’s win, my rasta man was waiting with the tables I had requested. They were bigger and more detailed than we had discussed, and I was blown away. They were gorgeous! Of course he wanted more money, and it was a lot more work, so I upped my price a little, but walked away knowing I had gotten a total bargain. I forgot to take pictures of them before I shipped them home, but eventually photos will be posted! Malawi is the place to buy woodcarvings. Most of the time, you are buying from the actual carver himself, the work is detailed and really nice, and the price is a steal.

After walking away with my awesome woodcarvings, we had our last group dinner in town and said our good-byes. Only 3 of us would be heading to Lilongwe the next day. It was sad to part ways, as I had such a great time with these cool kids.

We stayed one more night in the idyllic Mayoka Village, before saying good-bye to Nkhata Bay. It’s a bit touristy, but I can understand why. The activities that the lodge offers, along with nice accommodation and a delicious menu,  make a visit to Nkhata Bay and Mayoka Village a nice stopover on a Malawi itinerary.

Farewill dinner with all the super-cool Ilala Ferry survivors

Wakwenda Retreat on Chizumulu Island

Periodically scooping water from the boat with a leaky cannister

Switching Islands
After lounging around on Likoma Island for several days, it was time for a change of scenery. We hired a fishing boat and took a little ride over to neighboring Chizumulu Island. About half the population size of Likoma Island, Chizzy (as it is known among locals) is it’s quieter counterpart. We stayed at the only place on the island I think you can stay: Wakwenda Retreat. It took our little fishing boat about an hour to transfer us between the islands. Our hostel is on the backside of the island, so we weren’t able to get a view of it until we rounded the corner and pulled into the bay. Wakwenda Retreat was quite impressive.

Paradise. Again.

The bar and lounge area is built up on a series of boulders. From these boulders are wooden platforms that jut out over the water. Although the beach area isn’t as large as it was over at Mango Drift on Likoma Island, there was more of a local feel. One can sit and watch the local fishermen load up their boats and go out to retrieve their nets. The sunset our first night on Chizzy was stunning. The next day, two girls and I went in search of a restaurant to have tea. The one in our area was closed because the owners were on the mainland. We walked to the market about 30 minutes away, passing multiple restaurants, but all of them were closed. In the ‘market’ if you can call it that, there were only two women set up so far selling mondazis (fried bread). We bought some and luckily passed a banana seller on the walk home. There were even slimmer pickings here than over on Likoma. I went out snorkeling, and with the boulders in the area, it was interesting. Lake Malawi has one of the most diverse cichlid population in the world. There are many cichlid varieties found only in Lake Malawi- pretty cool! They developed and diversified over time due to all of the rocks in Lake Malawi.

Fishermen repairing their nets

How to Get Off the Island
We stayed two nights on Chizumulu Island, and then it was decision time. The oh so wonderful Ilala Ferry was due in late Saturday night, or we could take a local ‘ferry’ and leave Saturday morning. We opted for the local ferry, as boarding the Ilala on little boats in the middle of the night just didn’t sound appealing. The local ferry was due to leave from Likoma Island at 8:30am and be on Chizumulu around 10am. Of course in typical African fashion it showed up at 4pm! And what a sight. We were told this local ferry was essentially a large fishing boat and had a spare engine on board. Someone from the other side of the island phoned to let us know it was nearby. We took our bags to the shore and stood prepared to board.

Local ferry... before anyone boarded from Chizzy Island

I’m getting on that??
As the local ferry came into sight, I think we all gasped. This boat had boxes of fish piled up in the center with hoards of people surrounding it. Oh, and did I mention the engine on the back was just a little engine you might find on a little fishing boat? This is certainly a gamble. It pulls up to shore, and we gave one another the ‘Well it can’t be any worse than the Ilala’ look and waded out into the water. We climbed on and piled our bags into the middle. There was space near the front of the boat to sit. Most of my friends sat on a plank going across the boat while I sat on someone’s bag piled up behind them. Our little engine started up and we set sail to Nkhata Bay. It was rough waters but not as bad as when we were aboard the Ilala. Of the sixty or so people crammed on this boat, most were local fishermen. As the sun started to set, there was a local yelling “Ganja time!” over and over again. He would give it a rest for a few minutes and then yell again. If we had something to throw at him, I think we would have. Other than that, it was a pretty quiet ride. The smell of fish was not so appealing, and I just knew that it was settling into my clothing. There was the humming sound of the engine up front which was draining water from the boat. Occasionally the engine on the back would cut out, but only once was it malfunctioning. We drifted in circles in the dark on the middle of Lake Malawi just hoping that we weren’t stranded on this cramped boat. After about 10 minutes, the guys got it working again and the locals cheered. Phew. The engine draining the water only died once but it just needed to be refueled. It was just over a five hour boat ride, and I was so relieved when we pulled into Nkhata Bay around 10pm. We jumped out into the water and brought our bags to shore. The walk to our hotel was about a mile but who cared. We were standing on the mainland- no more ferry rides!! Exhausted, we all showered and went to bed. The next morning, as we enjoyed a savory breakfast in our new lodge overlooking the water, we watched as the Ilala Ferry pulled into the harbor around 9am and celebrated that we weren’t on it!

Oh yes, and on an end note, the Head Chief of Likoma and Chizumulu Islands  wanted to marry me. As much as I was impressed with his coordinating vest, scarf, and golf cap, I think a 70 year old Malawian man is not quite my type. However, my friends and I had a few giggles discussing what it might be like to be Princess of the Islands. Now, back to reality, I’ll leave you with a few more photos from Chizumulu Island!

Who's hiding under my chair?

Why, Hello there dog.

Fisherman and his canoe

Fishing boats in the bay

Cute kids

Platform at Wakwenda Retreat

Trees carved at the campsite

Resident dog Basil lives the life on Likoma Island

My initial reaction to Likoma Island was nothing short of pure contentment. Although my travel friends from the ferry and I thought we would be leaving just two days later to get back to mainland, it just wasn’t going to happen. You can’t spend two miserable days on a boat, only to spend two days on a relaxing island. So it was time to kick back and relax.

A Fabulous Place to Run
My second morning on Likoma, I decided to go for a run. There is a ridge running down the island so my run ended up being more of a hike up the hills and a run back down them. From the ridgeline, one can look west to see even smaller Chizumulu Island or east to mountainous Mozambique. It’s quite picturesque. It’s funny to look back at my backpacking lodge- the hills are covered with African grass while the beach is tropical looking. It’s a tropics meets African bush experience.  As I was running back down the hillside, I passed a woman bent over mudding the foundation for a new house. I waved when she looked up. The woman threw her head back and laughed as she eagerly waved in return.

Island Fever? Not at all.
The next few days I spent swimming, snorkeling, and paddling around the bay on my favorite new lake toy: a waveski. It looks like a surfboard with indentations for your bum and your feet. I met a Chilean couple and a Swiss couple on the ferry, which made for a playful rivalry when their respective soccer teams played each other in the World Cup. We made several trips into the market to buy food to self-cater, as one couple had a cooking stove. The first night was rice and eggs. We were hoping to find cabbage (I don’t think that’s too much to ask in Africa) but when we got to the market we were told there was no cabbage that week. If it doesn’t come on the ferry, they don’t have it. There were tomatoes, onions, and beans. Rice and beans it was for the next two days! It was a lot of fun cooking and sitting around a fire with 5 other travelers. One couple made bread on a stick over the fire, which turned out to be quite tasty! Another couple roasted peanuts. We shared travel stories, had a few laughs over each other’s quirks and funny phrases, and did quite a bit of relaxing on the beach. It was a nice break to my usual solo travel. We ended up staying together for about 10 days, along with 4 others who had taken the ferry with us.

Discovering a new beach on Likoma Island

No Such Luck.
Likoma Island is only about 16 square kilometers. The population is around 6,000 people. I saw maybe four cars the entire time I was on the island. A few of us went into the market to pick up the food for dinner. On our way back we were walking with a couple of local teens. When we came to a fork in the road, we veered right, to head up and over the ridge to return to our lodge on the west side of the island. All of a sudden a motorcycle came flying around the corner on this sandy dirt road, leaving us to jump out of the way. He never slowed down, came straight up the middle, and there was not enough time. Before I knew it, I was knocked by the handlebars, catapulted into the air as my camera and wallet went flying, before hitting the ground. The force left me doubled over as I took a pretty hard hit to the ribs. There were kids scrambling around, but I recall still hearing the motorbike. I looked over my left shoulder to see two men on the ground but the bike tires still spinning. The driver jumped up but couldn’t seem to cut it off at first. He approached me, clearly shaken, grabbed my shoulders, and asked if I was okay.  He was recklessly driving but I think it scared him enough that there was no use for a lecture (not to mention I was not feeling so hot). A teenage girl named Catherine approached me trying to brush off my shirt and exclaimed, “My best friend, I am so sorry!” It was very touching.  The next few days proved difficult to sit up or bend over. I was very fortunate to have such sweet travel buddies who bandaged me up and gave me the Swiss equivalent of IcyHot for my ribs. It was definitely the next best thing to having my mom there.

Walking down the ridge at dusk

Oddly enough, we ran into a boy the next day who saw the incident. He walked with us a ways, until he casually mentioned that he had turned the motorcycle man into the police. I was caught off guard, but on a small island, everyone knows everyone and word travels fast. Supposedly, the guy did not have a proper license and the police were going to look into it. Either way, I think it scared him pretty badly. I’m just so lucky that I avoided the wheel of the bike and also that there are no paved roads on the island. I’m sure we would have had much worse scrapes if we had to eat pavement versus a little bit of sand.

A Malawi Must
Likoma Island is a must for any visitor to Malawi. While I don’t recommend taking the ferry all the way from Monkey Bay to get there, a shorter ferry ride is well worth it. The management at Mango Drift and the locals on the island are really friendly. It’s a beautiful setting, and a perfect place to rest for a few days and get in some great swimming! It would be a shame to make it to Malawi and never experience the island life.

This post was not sponsored by macrocephalous autohagiographer, however they are just getting a temporary mention for the heck of it.

Spending a couple of nights on Chizumulu Island on Lake Malawi, I was spoiled with some pretty sweet sunsets. From my accommodation at Wakwenda Retreat I could sit on one of the wooden platforms jutting out into the bay and look at this lovely masterpiece.

My room on Likoma Island

After having arrived at Mango Drift at midnight the night before when there was no electricity, I really had no idea what Likoma Island or my hostel looked like.

The view from my bed

I awoke at 6:30am and with the sounds of waves outside my door, I was pulled out of bed with curiosity. I put on my flip- flops, and undid the wooden latch on my hut. As the door creaked open, I stepped down onto the sandy shore, and suddenly, even if momentarily, I forgot about the miserable ferry ride (insert link here) from the previous days. I was staring at Lake Malawi only a few meters in front of me with Chizumulu Island in the backdrop. I was drawn to the hammocks I saw down the beach near the hostel’s bar.  As I walked toward them, I noticed baobabs enveloping Mango Drift, trees along the shore with neat little bird nests dangling from every limb, and beautiful tropical flowers growing here and there.

I relaxed as people slowly trickled into the lounge for breakfast, enjoyed a nice cup of Malawian tea, and was just happy to sink my feet in the sand and enjoy my surroundings. My friends and I trekked up the hill behind Mango Drift late morning to head to the market. And if you thought the people on mainland Malawi are friendly, the people of Likoma Island bring the definition of friendly to a whole new level. It’s so touching to be greeted with such warm smiles and a genuine nature. There are no beach boys on Likoma Island and little haggling to be done for purchases. The people give fair prices to begin with because they don’t know any differently; their relative seclusion from the mainland means they haven’t been exposed to the occasional storekeeper that tries to rip off foreigners or the wandering local that wants to help you find your way expecting payment in return. I bought a jitenji (a replacement for my Kenyan laso) because I left it back in Monkey Bay and had nothing to use for a towel (Yes, this is my second towel I’ve lost within 3 weeks). We ate a late lunch at The Hunger Clinic that consisted of rice, beans, cabbage, and a fried egg. We got back to our hostel just as the sun was setting and decided to go for a quick dip in the lake. Life is good.

The ferry was quite possibly the worst transit experience of my life. It was due to leave at 10am. It left at noon. It was due in the next day according to the schedule at 1:30 pm. It arrived at 10pm. Aside from the bugs on the wall, the occasional rat sighting, the ants biting my ankles, the woman retching next to me, the orange peels all over the floor, the women and babies sleeping on the nasty floor, and the bad waves and seasickness, I guess it was a nice journey.

I was leaving my volunteer project in Monkey Bay to go to Likoma Island. First class, which is open air and occupies the top deck of the ferry was about 9600 kwatcha. Second class on the bottom deck has a room with cushioned benches and a small deck area outside. It was 3250 kwatcha. The decision was a no-brainer for me: I needed to save some money, and when I spotted other tourists in second class, I figured it would be fine. I’m glad I went second class for a few reasons. One- it was really cold and windy at times and I was inside so it was a little warmer. Two- me and my friends I met on the boat all got seasick, but somehow lying down and not being able to see the waves outside made it better. And three- they let you roam the decks and didn’t check tickets, so you could go sit up at first class whenever you wanted. I went up there to take photos several times when I wasn’t feeling a wave of seasickness coming on. If you were looking to sleep outside, under the stars, and among the wind and waves, then first class might be right for you.

So here’s a rough overview of the long-ass, mostly miserable journey.

Unloading people off of the ferry

I boarded the ferry around 9:15am. Second class looked fine: a few other foreigners, not crowded, etc. 10:00 passed, 11:00 passed, and we finally left at noon. It was initially really choppy, but died down. We made our first stop at 4pm. We picked up a few passengers but not all that many. This is when it got really cold and the water started to get choppy. Everyone put on their warmest clothes, scarves, and hats, and foreigners pulled out their sleeping bags. From Monkey Bay I met a girl from Finland and a couple from Switzerland. Then a couple from Chile got on at the first stop. At around 5pm, one of them thought they spotted a rat. But then again maybe it was just a shadow on the floor. At 6pm, another girl saw the rat in the rafters. Oh god. I thought, Okay I can handle this. What can a rat possibly do? But then I spotted it running down the wall and before I knew it my reaction was to jump, gasp, and tuck my legs in under me off of the floor. I was so freaked out. The bugs that had been crawling around my stuff seemed to be gone though. Everyone pretty much laid down and slept to overcome seasickness. I woke up at 9pm, and it was warmer and less windy so I had to strip off my jacket. I read until midnight, and then fell asleep again.

Goods piled up in front of the sink

Around 3:15am, we had our first Titanic moment. Everyone was jolted awake by severe waves, a huge crashing noise, and water running off of the rafters like a rain shower. Bottles, food, bags, everything that was on the tables had fallen to the floor. Women and babies got up off the nasty ground because water was dripping on them. We picked everything up and laid back down. The waves were rough. We arrived in Nkhotakota around 4:30am. We can’t go to port because it’s too shallow so we sent out small boats to drop off people and pick people up. At this stop, tons of people, goods, food, and furniture got on. It took until 8:30 to get everyone and everything on board. I got up around 6:30am to check it out. People were all barefoot, and soaking wet from wading in the water to get on the small boats. I met a girl from New Mexico, and she said people were fighting to get on the boats. Some people waded out to their chests to climb on the boats. It was so chaotic, and the waves were bad. Goods were piled up in front of the sinks so to brush my teeth was quite a feat. I had to get a good arc on my spitting technique to make it to the sink.

Tight Quarters

Second class gets crowded

Hoards of people were now everywhere on the boat. Economy class was crammed in like sardines. Second class was tight quarters but we managed. Lots of people ate oranges and there were peels all over the floor. It started to get really dirty and substandard. I continued to sleep on and off even though I had a headache from sleeping too much because it was either do that or be seasick. I was awoken several times by what I swear was something crawling on my ankles but I never saw anything. Then I finally saw an ant scrambling for refuge in my shoe. So there were ants biting me. At 2pm we finally made the stop in Metangula, Mozambique. We didn’t leave until 4pm, and it was still 6 hours to Likoma. At 4:05pm, I hear a woman retching and look over to see her under the neighboring table puking into her blanket while her baby was sitting there crying. I definitely laid back down and closed my eyes trying to ignore what was going on. After it got dark and warmed up again, we all just wanted off the boat so badly. At 9:30pm there is a horrid fish smell. I was wondering where the smell was coming from. Then I spot him- a man that had opened a garbage bag and was sorting his fish. At that point it was just like, ‘Can it get any worse when we’re almost there?’ But oh yes, it can. We finally dock out in the water at 10pm.

We made it to land!

Are we there yet?
We’ve arrived! Lots of people were getting off. We crammed in line on both sides of the ferry (they have two boats to take people ashore). The first boat left. We waited about 20 minutes for it to come back. We literally clambered over bags of maize as if it were an obstacle course to get off. When the boat came back suddenly it was mad chaos: people shoving, an old woman tearing at my arm to get off before me. I didn’t want to lose my friends so I just shoved forward. I handed my small bags down to one of the guys. It was scary climbing down the ladder to the small boat because people were trying to shove bags of goods and even a TV by my head. Again, it was like a Titanic moment, as if it were the last boat, and no one else was getting off. I made it into the boat, and suddenly the island went completely dark. It was time for the island’s generators to be turned off for the night. The ferry had to shine a spotlight so the boats could see to get to shore. I rolled up my pants and took off my shoes. The boat got as close to shore as possible then it was chaos all over again. Since the island has no crime you can trust people, and thank goodness for some wonderful locals. A guy took my rucksack and shoes, while I kept my big pack on my back. I threw one leg over and only could reach the water with my tiptoes. I put my arm around this man’s neck and as he braced me I literally just rolled over the side of the boat. And then was in it nearly waist deep. We got to shore and he handed me my things. The locals were generous trying to help foreigners. Josh was there from Mango Drift in the most badass transport ever! If you’ve ever ridden the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland, it was a similar experience. The car is an open air, stadium seating type of Land Rover. I want one!! It was full though, so we waited about 30 minutes for him to come back for 4 of us. We made it to Mango Drift at midnight. We took showers, however after over 36 hours on this damn ferry, my equilibrium was off, and I had a hard time bending over to shave without falling. The accommodation is phenomenal, set right along the shore of Lake Malawi. However, as I lie in bed that first night, I kept thinking that what would normally be the soothing sound of waves lulling one to sleep had become a reminder of that miserable ferry ride, rough waves, and all that it entailed.

The guidebook said that the Ilala Ferry is the highlight of a trip to Malawi for many visitors, but I digress. Don’t believe everything you read!

Garden and Tutoring Center

Wow! I feel so out of touch after being offline for nearly a month except for the occasional Montage Monday posting. Frankly, internet hasn’t gotten much better but I was excited to share with you about my latest volunteer post. I spent 25 wonderful days in Malawi, well nearly wonderful (ahem, Ilala Ferry ride). The first two weeks I was volunteering with the Back to School Foundation in Monkey Bay on Lake Malawi. It is a fantastic organization focusing on secondary education, and I only wish I had more time to spend there.

The Foundation’s Beginnings
Birgit Albers is the founder and manager at the Back to School Foundation. The foundation sponsors young adults to go to secondary school and has a free tutoring center open to anyone in Monkey Bay in secondary school, whether they are sponsored or not. Birgit was traveling in Malawi about 8 years ago when she landed in Monkey Bay. A young man offered to show her around the area. At the end of the week, Birgit wanted to pay him for his guide services, however she didn’t want to give him cash that he may likely turn around and spend on beer. So Birgit offered to buy him something, under the assumption that he may want clothes or a new pair of shoes. Instead, he told her that he wanted to finish secondary school (it is not free in Malawi). The next day Birgit walked with him to the school and paid his fees. Not even a day later, she had kids lined up at her hostel wanting her to pay their school fees. While she couldn’t afford to educate the entire population in Monkey Bay, she took photos of the kids and young adults and went back to Australia to search for sponsors. Hence, the beginnings of the Back to School Foundation.

New organic garden at the foundation

The tutoring center is run by volunteers. I tutored Math and English, while two others tutored Physical Science, Biology, Math, and English. Oddly enough, I only tutored boys the entire time I was there, but it was a lot of fun. There was Chikondi (whose name means love), a 23 year old who came everyday to study. There was Frank, who although failing his first term math test, was dedicated to improving, and did much better on his second term test. Coming to the center is obviously up to the individual, so most of the students there have come because they desire to do well in school and get an education. Many of the kids do not have books of their own, so they are also able to make use of BTSF’s library to study. I did a little bit of work in the organic garden, but there were two volunteers working in it full time. The vegetables are either sold to locals, providing a small profit for the foundation, or picked by the volunteers for meals.  If you are looking to volunteer in Africa, this is an excellent place to end up. The foundation provides free accommodation and volunteer work, and all you need to pay for is food. The hours are 8-12pm and 2-5pm during weekdays. Birgit is also very helpful at arranging weekend trips if you are interested in seeing other parts of the country.

The Volunteer's House

About the Students
I had a wonderful time tutoring the kids and young adults and learning more about their lives in Malawi.  At any given time there might be 20 students at the center getting help. Since some kids go to school in the morning and others go in the afternoon, there are students at the center throughout the day. There are different types of secondary school, and some students only go to school for 3 hours a day. Their classes may have 70-100 kids in them. The foundation’s impact on the community is impressive to say the least. As most of you know, I feel very strongly towards education and can’t say enough good things about BTSF.

If you can’t make it to Malawi as a volunteer, please consider making a small donation to the cause. You can sponsor a child’s secondary education for $180 Australian dollars per year. If it sounds a bit out of your budget, find a few neighbors or friends and sponsor a child together. Have a yard sale or host a pasta dinner for your neighborhood. The donations are going directly to these kids that need it. The money isn’t a handout. It’s providing a high school diploma so that these kids have a chance at a future and becoming self-sufficient. There are employees that maintain the foundation’s grounds and the tutoring center, however Birgit takes no pay. She goes home for 4 months every year to work so she can afford to dedicate her time to these kids in Malawi. I have yet to volunteer at a place where a director didn’t take any pay. I can attest that this is a cause well worth the donation!

Some BTSF Residents

Please note: The bank charges a fee for the transfer of funds. Therefore, if you are interested in donating, please contact me. I can pool several donations together making the bank fee nominal if I send it as one transaction. And if you have any questions about volunteering, just ask!

A VERY big thanks to Hotelscombined.com for sponsoring a child for a year of secondary school. Please check out their services when you get a chance.

Likoma Island, in Lake Malawi, is a taste of tropical paradise with an African setting. There are views of neighboring Chizumulu Island (pictured here along with some fishermen), and if you take a short walk to the other side of the island there are stunning views of Mozambique. Likoma Island boasts some of the most friendly people in Africa and no crime. It’s only 17 square kilometers and has a population of 6,000 people. As I write this, I can hear the waves off of the lake in my little hut on the beach. There is snorkeling, swimming, and amazing sunsets. Who knew you could find a place like this on a lake in Malawi?

As the plane was making its descent into Lilongwe, I had my face glued to the window. I felt like I was flying into the pages of a National Geographic magazine. I could see little villages as we were approaching the airport. In Malawi, the huts are still largely made of mud with grass roofs. While they look quite picturesque, reminding me of childhood visits to my grandmother’s where I flipped through stacks of National Geographics, its a reality check to how simple people can and do live. I technically have internet access now through my wireless modem again, however it’s so expensive, that I probably won’t be posting again until I reach Zambia. And it’s actually a nice break away from the fast paced technology-ridden world that we live in. I’m typing this up by candlight- there’s an electricity shortage in  Malawi and with the World Cup going on, they’ve shut off power between games. It’s not all that bad. Sure we (the volunteers) whined over not being able to heat up water for tea, but it’s hardly a sacrifice considering how people in other parts of the world live daily.

And on a final note: the people in Malawi really are as friendly as their reputations claim them to be.