Slacker Smith

I'm sorry for being such a slacko with the blog guys but thank you so much for sending me so many messages of love and support while I'm out here. It's great to think that some of my friends and family are taking the time to stay up to date with what's happening.

I feel very virtuous tonight, seeing as I've uploaded about 4 tasty treats for your visual consumption. I hope to get some more up by the end of the week as lots of interesting stuff is happening here, especially in the world of politics.

In the meantime, I miss you all, I miss English Ale and Aussie Lager and I miss good coffee shops. But I don't miss the high street, TV, or shopping and I kind of enjoy the occasional blackouts and the periods when the phone networks crash. I don't like the fuel shortages or seeing malnourished kids but I do love it when the kids smile because we can blow bubbles with them or give them a lollypop. 

And I am catching myself smiling like a manic sometimes - mostly when I'm in the car alone (thankfully) listening to African radio music and seeing what a beautiful country this is. OK, so that's really soppy but at least the sun is shining and I have a cool place to live! 

Be good. x 

PS: Hope you enjoy the new FLICKR Feed below which shows off some pictures from Spay Day, The Dog Show (next round of blogs) and life in general in Lilongwe.

PPS: I've changed the settings so that you can leave comments now without having to sign in (or up) to a Google account. I'm slowly working this schimizzle out. Feel free to leave some wisdom!

Gone Bush

So most of you have seen the pics of my safari trip on Facebook but here’s the long winded story of what happened….

The first part of the trip to South Luanga took an entire day, travelling on rump rattling dirt roads with food and god obsessed Americans who were determined to solve the country’s problems during their two week charitable trip to Malawi.

I was feeling pretty charitable myself and decided to toss a bag of crisps from the Landrover window to a couple of kids who had clearly walked a long way from somewhere and weren’t getting anywhere else in a hurry. Unfortunately my small gesture sparked a massive fisticuff between them and they disappeared in the dust before I could see who survived. I’m hoping that once the MSG wore off,  they were friends again.

Hannah and I shared our ‘luxury tent’, along with a few hundred mosquitoes and a tree frog. During the first night, we were woken up at 2am by something that sounded like a washing machine. But it was just an enormous hippo who’d come to visit us for a midnight snack, munching away not 2 metres from the wall of our tent. It was pretty magical to watch him for a while. The elephants came to visit the next night, thankfully not such an intimate experience.

We spent the next 2 days and 2 evenings driving around South Luanga like lunatics, on the hunt for giraffes, buffalo and elephants. We saw everything (except Rhinos) including a leopard hunting, hyenas eating a buffalo, two lions making out in the bushes, zebras crossing the road (it’s a Zebra crossing, boom boom!), lizards mating at sunset, red ants moving their eggs around, and the politics of baboons, including one that was having ‘illegal sex’.

And there’s always one. One idiot who loves the sound of his own voice too much. We shall refer to him as ‘The Rudest Man On Earth’ (TRMOE). Unsurprisingly divorced he’d dragged his two uninterested, emotionally immature sons out to the middle of Africa and then tried to impress them by banging on about shooting and eating pretty much everything in the park.

The truck broke down on the way from South Luanga to Victoria Falls. Some cable thingy came loose from jiggling around on the crappy dirt roads. Not that much of a shock seeing as my eyeballs, arm joints and teeth were also pretty loose at that point.

The next day was filled with travelling, more jive talk from the ‘TRMOE’ and a blown tyre. At some point we stopped off at a SPAR mega-mart. Hannah, AJ, Jenny and I trudged in there like the 4 dirty little travellers that we were and I think we were so overwhelmed by the bakery, the fluro lit aisles, the AC and the stacks of chocolate and coffee that there were almost tears. I filled my backpack up with good Zambian coffee, a packet of muffin mix (WTF?!) and a chocolate bar. All of which I lugged around for 6 days and have only just consumed a month later (they were treasured).

That night we arrived late at Victoria Falls, managed to avoid ‘TRMOE & Sons’ at the bar and had a lovely few beers before sleeping in our not so luxurious tent. Fuelled on by drink (always blame the drink) and egged on by fake bravado, we each signed up to do the Bungee Jump and Bridge Swing from Victoria Falls the next morning.

Unfortunately we had also signed up to do the Gorge Swing, which we – wrongly – thought would be a piece of piss. Ummm, stepping BACKWARDS off a CLIFF and falling UPSIDE DOWN for a total of 4 SECONDS is not a piece of piss. Hannah and I went tandem and, after screaming for a full 4 seconds and then experiencing a further 60 seconds of unimaginable discomfort in the harness, we decided to cancel our bungee for the next day. Cue the hotel bar, 4 rum and cokes (just to get over the shock of the swing) and then the walk of shame as we cancelled our bungee booking.

Weird moment: Jenny walking in with bruises all over her arms because a baboon had tried to steal her apple AND her bag. Baboon didn’t realise that she’s a black belt in Kick Boxing and a rainbow belt in Kick Ass. He hasn’t shown his face around that tourist path since…

Next morning I took a Microlight (basically a lawnmower with wings) over the top of Victoria Falls which was occasionally very scary but spectacular all the same. And it was worth it for the sheer wannabe studliness of my driver…and chasing a herd of buffalo.

Onto Victoria Falls for Jenny’s 30^th birthday Bungee Jump. She didn’t even break a sweat. Just jumped right off that ol’ bridge a full 111 metres in a freefall plunge. Upside down.

She looked so damned confident that I thought, ‘Sure. Why not?!’ and went ahead and re-booked mine. Why not?!  Because it’s freaking unnatural is why not!

Cue wringing of hands for the next hour, waves of nausea, sweaty palms and four beers. I was totally crapping it. As I walked to the bridge with my wing-gal Hannah for moral support, I totally thought ‘What the fuck am I doing?’. Not that they give you any time to have second thoughts, write a will or pray (yes, I rediscovered religion on that bridge!).

They strapped me up. I was jabbering like a woman possessed. Thankfully God was there on that bridge and an American Minister (they’re everywhere in Africa) who had just jumped started up a cheer squad for me – he was amazing. After getting some video footage of my white, terrified face they counted down from 5 and shoved me off that bridge ridiculously fast. Freefalling upside down, screaming ‘WHOA, WHOOOOAA!’, all I could think about was my eyes popping out and how much I wanted to see my family and Paul again.

Meanwhile the bodies on the bridge were cheering ‘Enjoy it!’…

Next up was the Bridge Swing. Like the Gorge Swing but face first. Holy Crap. Just thinking about it gives me the heebie jeebies. All I will say is that I was screaming NO over and over again from the moment I stepped off that platform until the swing kicked in and then it was an awesome, awesome experience.

I will say that it was the single scariest thing I have ever voluntarily done in my life and that I will never do it again. But I’m ever so glad to have done it.  Mainly for the people that I met on the bridge including an incredible African lady who was so lovely to me and prayed, along with her daughters, for me the entire time. And I think she could very well have saved me.

Various moments of ‘survival euphoria’ ensued. Getting drenched in the Vic Falls spray, a gin martini on the Zambezi river at sunset, smuggling a visa stamp out of Zimbabwe, spreading the joy of Dunbar to the wider world, and locking AJ in his tent and terrorising him like rabid monkeys.

The trip home was long, dusty and broken up with the worst toilets in the universe, rice salad and a few more Greens (Carlsberg). And coming back to Malawi was great. But I’ve definitely got the bug to see more of this amazing country.

To see the pics visit

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150258905537254.369135.551712253&l=b88b817fcc

Growing Up? Or Down?

Thanks to everyone who sent me Happy Birthday texts, emails and Facebook messages. I felt very loved!

I spent the day moving into my amazing new digs in Area 3. A big ol’ rambling  house that used to be notorious throughout Lilongwe for its parties…and its mess.

I’m pleased to say that it’s somewhat tidier these days and after a good bleaching and a few sprays of DOOM! to kill the swarm of mozzies that rose up out of Jelmer’s mattress, the room was looking  (and smelling) great.

Add a few Chitenjes (Malawian cloth), a mosquito net, a huge map (bought for £2 on the side of the road), a rice paper light shade, some girly scarves and a vase of flowers and it’s now a lovely little nook. Not to mention the Hippo with MEG carved in it (thanks Hannah, an awesome birthday present), and my notebook (thanks Anna, a wonderful birthday present) and about 5 bottles of Malawian Gin, Rum and wine (thanks Tracey and Bev for the tasty and practical birthday presents!) .

I had lunch with the lovely Grace and then peeps came over for G&Ts and chocolate birthday cake (amazing!)  with a BBQ at Mabuya Camp afterwards and a midnight swim (followed by hypothermia) to top it off.

Spending my 32^nd birthday in Africa was a brilliant experience and thanks to my friends here who made it so wonderful. And also thanks to the people who acted shocked and amazed that I am over 30. I am eternally grateful…

x

A taster of Malawian Bumper Stickers

A list that will be updated:

God is Good

If God Says Yes, Who Can Say No

Relax, God’s in Control

Never Question Him

I Love my Wife

I Love my Husband

Respect All Fools to Avoid Noise

You Can’t Hide from Judgement

And my favourite:

This Car is Protected by the Blood of Jesus (will have to get this one for The Beast!)

And then there’s the local mini bus with Survivors written across the front. Uh huh…30% of the people admitted to the local hospital trauma unit are from mini bus accidents, so I'm making sure that I take Survivors if I have to take one at all.

Put in your orders now my bumper sticker loving friends!

Shiny, Happy People

…also known as gays, are illegal here.

It’s a hotly debated subject at the moment because the EU is threatening to withhold funding if Malawi doesn’t abolish the law that makes homosexuality illegal. Discussion is rife in the media where the most liberal letter that I have read so far goes something along the lines of…

            “….let 'The Gays' have their little corner of society. While we might find what they do unnatural they are hurting no one but themselves. As long as they stay away from my children I say - 'live and let live'. They will burn in hell for all of eternity anyway.”

Even the bands are getting in on the act. The Black Missionaries, ‘Malawi’s Best Band’ and also a serious bunch of Christians started chanting in Chichewa at a recent gig and the crowd went wild. The volunteers, caught up in the moment, all clapped and cheered too…until someone told them that they were cheering to 'Hang The Gays'. Whoops...

The ironic thing is that most of the blokes cheering were all wearing their own weird brand of Malawian fashion including jaunty leopard print hats, foxy puff sleeved numbers and practical ballet pumps – all donated by some teenage girls from Essex. You go boys…

Rest assured that my position remains firmly on the disco side of the fence. So thankful we live in a liberal society and I'm looking forward to a big martini and a 4am boogie sesh with my bezzies when I'm back in London/Shoalhaven Heads/Brighton ('I don't know much about clothes but my hair looks fierce!'). x

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

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