Adventures from the Warm Heart of Africa



Monday, 13 June 2011

When the Plumber Came to Visit

A conversation between me (M) and the plumber (P) who came this morning to fix the kitchen sink but needed to come back to do some more work :

M:  That’s brilliant, Thanks so much. How much do I owe you?
P: You’re my friend. You decide what it's worth
M: Just tell me how much I should pay you mate
P: (shrugs)
M: (on a massive guilt trip because I only have 1,500 mwk) This is all I have. Is it enough?
P: (Grinning wildly) Yes! YES! Thank you!
M: Are you free tomorrow?
P: (looking confused) Free?
M: Well no, not free. But, are you available tomorrow to fix the other things?
P: Yes
M: Well can you come again then?
P: Yes
M: Excellent. So I’ll see you tomorrow morning at 9am
P: OK, no problem….so you will call me later to tell me when to come back?
M: No, you’re coming back tomorrow at 9 in the morning. OK?
P: Yeah, sure it’s true. So. Tomorrow or Wednesday?
M. Look, are you available tomorrow morning or not? Do you want to come on Wednesday instead? I can do either but tomorrow would be better. You decide.
P: You’re my friend. It’s up to you.
M: Tomorrow…Please
P: OK, no problem
M. Great
(Pause)
P: So, because you are my friend…I was thinking that my wife could come and stay here? With you?
M: What??!!
P: Yes, to help you
M: I beg your pardon…
P: To help you. My wife
M: We already employ like 4 people. We can’t really afford anyone else...(feeling mortified)...I’m really sorry
P: Sure, it’s no problem. I understand
(Pause)
P: So, see you Wednesday…or tomorrow?
M: (sigh) Wednesday’s fine

Sunday, 8 May 2011

Team WILF!

How and why did I allow myself to be dragged into the Wildlife Centre’s volleyball team I’m not sure, though I am convinced there were beers involved.

Certainly there were beers involved on the night, when we all trooped down to The Shack, played four games of volleyball and LOST every single game. In seriously drastic fashion.

I thought I could hit a volleyball. Turns out I can’t. I was never convinced I could serve. Turns out I was right. But I was positive that I could lead a cheerleader chat for team Wildlife – give me a W, give me an I etc. Turns out I can’t and we’re now known as the WILFS. Which has a much more original ring to it, I think anyway.

As for the team uniform, we’re considering getting some caps from the local supermarket called Shoprite and scribbling out a few of the middle letters so it just spells SH…ITE.

After throwing myself around the court and doing a not so impressive lunge for the ball, the ‘sand’ (i.e. jagged rocks of death) has gouged out a chunk of leg and my shin is slowly turning a shade of midnight blue, to match the awesome bruises from my waterskiing on Lake Malawi over the weekend (thanks again to the lovely Tracey, Richard, Kate and Johnny for a wicked weekend of boats, waterskiing, interesting brownie recipes and the most gorgeous little cottage you’ve ever seen in your life).

However, the pit falls of socialising can be deep when you have to clean out dog kennels after a 3am finish the night before.  The good news is that we now have someone else to do this – hurrah – so I’m off right now to enjoy a few greens (Carlsberg) at Mabuya Camp. My mum warned me not to get dehydrated in Africa…

X

I have a car!

A check list of the many challenges of negotiating Lilongwe’s roads:

Lethal mini buses wrapped regularly around trees – CHECK

3km of road between residential housing and the town centre, fraught with danger from angry drivers, brakeless cars and zebra crossings that faded in 1910? CHECK

Push bike taxis with poor old dudes who make you get off and (quite right too) walk up the hills? CHECK

Massive hyenas roaming the streets at night waiting for a tasty two-legged morsel to pass by for a midnight snack? CHECK

An ancient law dating back to British rule that forbids anyone to walk around past 10pm - originally introduced to keep the ‘local’ population from organising rebellions against the Brits but now ironically used to pump cash out of hapless white peeps? CHECK

And so my friends, the time had come to buy a car. I am now the proud owner of a super hot, 1996, 3 door, white Pajero. OK, so it has various hoses under the bonnet missing (so what?), a non working fan/AC (that’s what windows are for) and bald-as- my-granddaddy’s-head-was tyres.

But you know what? Who cares?! Who cares when the COF test here, the UK’s equiv to the MOT or Australia’s version of the rego check, is a cursory glance at the car, an extra couple of thousand kwacha (£8), a nod of the head and a quick signature? Done!

And Oh The Freedom! Hello Again Independence! I’m now gal about town, zooming around in my little 4x4 looking like a proper Mzungo. The only issue now are the very frequent police road blocks (a stash of cash can come in handy I hear) and convincing everyone who gets in my car to wear a seatbelt, which is clearly not the fashion in Lilongwe.

Be good, stay safe and give way to white Pajeros my friends.
Megs x

PS: Any suggestions for names gratefully considered…

My rabies-tastic week

Some of you may have seen my Facebook post from last week and I’m sorry if any of you thought I’d had my arm chewed off by a maniacal mutt. What actually happened was that one of the puppies had been acting weirdly in quarantine kennel 4. It had bitten 3 people in two days, then started chewing the wire of the cage, biting bricks and snapping at imaginary flies...and then it went off its food and water, which is when we started to panic because it was generally pretty greedy!

So, although we were really hoping, praying, delivering offerings to the gods that it was just a bit bored and in need of some TLC from a loving new family, we couldn’t really take the risk that it may have had rabies since it had chomped into the legs of three people already. Plus the rest of the staff, including me had also been exposed because we had been feeding and playing with it, and so had been licked.

I’ve learnt a lot about rabies in the past week. The virus is carried in the saliva of an infected animal and can be transmitted through a bite or a lick, which would deposit the virus into the bloodstream either through the bite wound or possibly through an open cut or graze.

It can take up to 7 years (WTF?) for the symptoms to show in a humans and once it’s in your system, it’s usually fatal with NO CURE. Only one recorded case exists of a human surviving rabies without treatment, though I have been told of others here in Malawi and I’m sure that there are some lucky (unrecorded) people across Africa who have faced down rabies and lived to tell the tale. Others have survived with treatment but only very rarely.

Unfortunately, the more we read about it, the more we realised that the puppy was a massive risk to everyone who had been in contact with her and so we asked our stand in vet, Rob (with a 35% kill rate) to put her down (RIP little bitch) and then sent her and her brain over to the vet labs for testing.

Jutta got to see the way that the brain was extracted from the puppy but unfortunately I was tied up with other things on Wednesday. But I did see the photos…and while the procedure is full-on gory, it’s amazing to see what they do, which is essentially slice the head open the whole way from the base of the neck to the tip of the nose, and then pull out this tiny little puppy brain, which is popped into a plastic bag and stuck in the fridge.

I was with them on Thursday though to see how they tested the brain. First they create a smear test with parts of the brain stem and gooey bits of grey matter, then they do some other fancy stuff to it, including injecting a special dye into the sample, which reacts with the virus to make it glow if the material is infected.

When we looked into the microscope to see if the test was positive, unfortunately for us, it was like looking at the stars. There was so much rabid activity going on in that little slide that it could have shrivelled up and eaten itself.

Although the first reaction was to leave the lab and chuck up into a quiet dark corner, I think Jutta and I held it together well enough, considering that we had to destroy another puppy, thereby pushing Rob's kill rate up to 40%. We also had to stick some of the others back into quarantine and sort out post-exposure jabs for us and the rest of the staff. Considering what we had just read and heard about rabies it's fair to say that we were bricking it. Seriously....brrrrricking it...

Two weeks on and plenty of beers later and all is OK. I’m actually really glad to have had the experience and to have learnt a bit more about rabies, which is one of those random diseases that you hear about but never really know much about if you're lucky enough to live in a rabies-free country like the UK or Australia. The yanks have it though, racoons are offending animal of choice apparently.

So anyway, despite my arms having more needle holes than a pin cushion, a wee word of warning for the future. Stay away if I start foaming at the mouth and eating bricks between now and 2020.

x

Monday, 25 April 2011

Pussies Galore…


This week I have been treated. One of the LSPCA’s trustees, the lovely Tracey and her husband Richard, offered me use of their plush pad to housesit while they went back to South Africa for a week. My one and only responsibility? Play with the kitten, Jerry.

So, while Jerry has been a handful at times - has shut down my computer on several occasions, sent typos in emails, shredded my arms, weed on my laptop bag and smeared shit on my skirt - it’s been a small price to pay for spending the week in a quiet, relaxing house with a pool (uh huh!) and a coffee plunger (uh huh!!) and ice (uh huh!!!). The cats (all five of them) have been very welcoming and Tiger has taken to sleeping on me bed with me, which is of course no substitute for Paul but at least he doesn’t snore. And working from the veranda in the morning sun has been great.

Plus Janet, the wonderful housekeeper, has given me my first taste of nsima, made from maize and water, served with pumpkin leaves mixed with peanut flour and tomatoes. Both are national dishes of Malawi – kind of like BBQs are essential to the Aussie national identity or a cheeseburger is life affirming fare for Americans.

The only downside to living in the lap of luxury is the creeping feeling that I am slightly removed from the whole reason why I came here – snarling dogs, half cooked chooks and bedraggled goats. But although I haven’t been ‘out in the field’ at all this week, I know that there will be plenty more opportunities to hack away at reproductive organs of the local dog population over the coming months. And I’ve also managed to get lots done on a copywriting front for the LSPCA including an article for a local magazine and newspaper, working on the charity’s volunteer pack and writing the script for the upcoming (no doubt Oscar nominated) film that we will be editing together for the LSPCA and showing the kids in the local schools and before our free movie nights.

And nothing will top that first cup of coffee in the sun with the cats.

I am eternally grateful to Tracey and Richard for trusting me with the house, the pool, and most importantly, the cats.

What's in a name?

For those of you looking to name babies anytime soon (Neil & Hannah take note) why note consider some African gems. Sure there are the feel good ones like Charity, Hope, Patience or Grace (any of those kicking around the mean streets of Dapto?). But then there are the gems: MacJustice, Millions (who is an accountant by the way), McDonalds, Harrods and Fingers.

Reading a local newspaper is like trawling through the best baby name book you will ever find. Not that I’m looking. And, as mentioned in my Facebook post, if I come across the name McLovin, Africa will have given me so much more than I could ever have asked from her.

Monday, 11 April 2011

Landed in Lilongwe!

So I have arrived in Lilongwe Malawi, the Warm Heart of Africa, and since landing a week ago it’s been an exciting week kicked off by my first dog bite within 24 hours of landing!

The first morning here we all packed up and rode Wagga style through the streets of Lilongwe in the back of the LSPCA ute to run a Spay & Neuter clinic in one of Lilongwe’s poorer suburbs, Kawale. When we got there, a dozen boys were waiting with their dogs – the numbers grew steadily throughout the morning though until we had to turn some away and tell them that we’d be back next Tuesday.

Key point to note: Malawian dogs aren’t Labradors. Sometimes they bite. Especially if you’re coming at them with a needle (yes, I even got to do some injections!). It’s not like there weren’t warning signs from the dog in question – the child gingerly holding the dog’s leash, the emphatic shaking of his head as I asked him to help me unwrap the chain from around its legs, and the sharp intake of breath when I reached out to do it anyway. Thankfully the dog had already had a skin-full of sedatives so the teeth didn’t actually pop my skin and I was saved from another five rabies shots….It was with a certain sense of satisfaction that I dropped his testicles in a bin five minutes later.

On Wednesday and Thursday I got to accompany Joe, our Education Officer, on a trip to Kawale School to talk to the kids about various animal welfare issues. The kids were amazing and really enthusiastic about the ‘Chicken Lesson’ when they were asked to come to the front of the class and demonstrate how to carry a chicken. They loved the prizes of sharpeners and pencils and I’m sure all will get put to good use, since the schools don’t have desks or chairs let alone a surplus supply of materials for the students.

We went back on Saturday for ‘Farm Day’, when kids were asked to bring along their animals for our vets to have a look at. A few classic moments – the kid with a wheelbarrow full of chooks and ducks who fell over and spilled his load, followed by much laughter from the other kids. And a boy with a bucket full of rats, including one with a pierced ear?!

While Richard, the LSPCA vet, and the other volunteers got down treating the animals, I got down to some serious business of my own – blowing bubbles with the kids. I’m convinced that I had way more fun than any of them but it was brilliant to see how excited they all got about it. And what I loved most was that amongst the riot of the ones shouting ‘Me! My Turn!’, there were others holding up smaller kids so they could have a go too.

Though it is a bit bizarre to see them attending school in the world’s clothing cast-offs - one girl carrying a chicken in a mesh and velvet evening dress and a skinny seven year old with huge teeth wearing a big ‘Hunk of Burning Love’ tee.

But my first week wasn't all bubbles and bollocks. I even managed to squeeze in some play time including a few beers with the other volunteers at Mbuyo Camp and a night of clubbing. The DJ was pretty dire but it was brilliant to boogie to some African reggae, although my bum just didn’t match up to some of the mamas shaking their thang on the dance floor.

So that’s it from Lilongwe this week. More tales of animal mayhem to follow, so stay tuned. Until the next update, tsala bwino (stay well)!

Much love,
Meegs x