Experiencing Lake Malawi

This past week I found myself putting my organizational skills to good use as I began planning a trip to the lake for our extended weekend getaway. Transportation was the limiting factor to our weekend fun and it would take the most time to align as well. I walked to a nearby bus station with Kondwani a Malawian friend of mine so that he could spare me the pain of having to interpret Chichewa. Despite being classified as an English speaking country, Malawi communicates nationally with Chichewa- a branch off of what the Bantu’s spoke way back. Kondwani and I made the trek across town to the bus station for what turned out to be a catastrophe. As we walked into the vendor filled, heavily littered, and jam-packed bus yard with every kind of minibus imaginable as well as true buses peaking through above the roofs of the minibus’ here and there, we came upon a group of ill-minded men. Dazed and bloodshot they were completely wasted. All of a sudden one of them hastily walked up to me and reached his hand into my pocket where my wallet was safely nestled-or so I thought. With my reflexes and what have you I swung my arm down and clenched his hand in my pocket with the strength of my own hand. Our eyes made contact for what seemed like eternity as I gave him the death glare while internally feeling shocked and mildly violated. He peacefully surrendered and let go reeling his arm back out of my pocket and into his own mumbling  “sorry boss…sorry boss…sorry sorry sorry”.

We eventually found the bus office that services the most reliable system in terms of on-time departures according to a printed schedule. There was mixed confusion between the employees about what time the bus was supposed to leave when we inquired though and they also told us that the bus left from a different station in a neighboring city. Knowing that I probably wouldn’t be able to find the depot on the departure day, I kindly asked Kondwani to take me to Limbe so I could see where to go. We hopped aboard an overcrowded minibus or as I like to call them ‘traveling time bombs’ and took the ride with frequent stops to the depot. Kondwani graciously showed me where we would meet the bus and how to pay etc. After I was confident I knew what to do and where to meet the bus we hopped back in another ‘traveling time bomb’ and began the slow but steady trip back to Blantyre.

We hadn’t quite made it halfway when our minibus was pulled over by a road block staffed with four police officers and asked to get out. Stopped and fined for over crowdedness, the driver and his conductor reimbursed us the petty 200 kwacha and we began trekking back towards Blantyre looking for another minibus to take us the rest of the way. I am glad to say we made it back safely after only a few minor hiccups.

The next step was to reserve lodging. I googled and found a really neat lodge nine feet from the water’s shore that had great rates and awesome activities, so I made a couple calls for a reservation. At last, our enjoyable weekend would seem to work out and all the question marks in the itinerary began to transform into exclamation points of excitement. However, the next day we told our American friends about our weekend plans and they showed great interest in the lake too. They decided to join us but only after recommending a different lodge and taking their own vehicle instead of the bus. I am glad to say that both worked out well in the end, but it was my hard work and trip planning that was stripped of its purpose and discarded without even an ounce of thought. It was discouraging and a shame for me.

Friday came and we pulled into the village/tourist center in Cape Maclear mid-afternoon discovering what was in store for us. All checked in to our hostel dorm room, I walked up and down the beach to the left and to the right in search of a dive shop. It felt great to hear the unusually large lake waves crashing into the shore and splashing up my leg. The shore was composed of rather large sand particles that were painful to walk barefoot on-at least until I was able to get comfortable. Beyond where the waves reached laid more and more sand. Built upon the sand for as far as the eye could see both ways along the bay were guest lodges of all different shapes and sizes interspersed among a rural fishing village. In the midst of all of the tourism lived a bustling village that thrived off of fishing and what little farming they can do. As a side note, I would say that the locals were the first inhabitants of the land before the money came in and built up a tourist's weekend getaway. At any rate, it was quite a scene to soak in! You could be lying in a hammock on the beach reading a book and happen to look up to see the great view only to see six or seven little boys jumping up and down in the waves naked.

I found Frogman’s Dive Shop but it was closed so I saved a contact number and called to make a dive appointment for Sabbath morning. The rest of the afternoon and evening I rested under the shade of a willow tree in a hanging woven basket chair suspending from a rope in a tree listening to the songs of Selah and watching the sun slowly turn orange, red, and finally disappearing beneath the horizon. What a way to welcome in the Sabbath! I felt blessed and spoiled.

The night brought forth little wind and enough heat to make it uncomfortable to sleep indoors. So I gathered a few blankets to serve as padding, a pillow, and my Ipod, and found a woven thatched bed on the shore on which to make my bed. Braving the night without a mosquito net I timidly decided to risk the chance of Malaria for a good night’s sleep. I awoke the next morning at 4:50 to the sunrise and the satisfaction of no bug bites. By 4:55 there were fifteen women on the shore with their clothes’ tubs doing laundry. It was a shocking and somewhat embarrassing discovery. By 7 I had been laying in bed long enough and the heat of the early morning had begun making things uncomfortably warm around me.

A school of Cichlids finding algae on the bottom of the dive boat.

A beautiful Cichlid.

I prepared myself for the day, ate breakfast, and headed out for my morning dive. The first of two dives was on one side of the island that faced the shore. At an average depth of 20 to 30 feet I swam with the African Cichlids up, under, and in between the large boulders that rested on the bottom. Native to Lake Malawi, Cichlids are usually found in the United States in dental office fish tanks or tanks in public viewing areas. At least that has been my observational experience with them. Some of the most colorful freshwater fish in the world, these 2-10 inch Cichlids when in a school really fill up the water with color and character. Every which way I turned there were hundreds of these things. Some were blue and black stripped, blue and orange stripped, blue yellow and orange stripped, pure black or white, and others pure orange or yellow. They were very interested in us, which was great for viewing and observational purposes. I took my camera with me and snapped photo after photo.

The glimpse of their world underwater.

The second dive was much the same as the first with the exception of a new location and more fish. It was just as fulfilling and rewarding as the first and the underwater visibility appeared to be slightly better for picture taking. Believe it or not, the dive master reached the low air pressure point in his tank before I did but we both had to ascend together so it made no difference except for an internal personal victory for me. In all, the diving was truly spectacular and being that it was freshwater I didn’t have to look out for all sorts of poisonous fish and invertebrates.

My buddy Mike!

Back on land that afternoon I began to notice a large number of children present. There were so many local children! From infants to toddlers to school-aged children there were kids everywhere. The median age for the village as a whole appeared to be in the upper 30’s sadly and the combination of a lot of happy people with a severe lack of birth control had produced a tremendously bottom heavy age structure pyramid. What looks like a promising graph for a booming economy in the near future that has the resources to care for such a rise in population has been a completely different story for this village and the rest of Malawi for that matter. Already listed as one of the poorest countries in the world and facing colossal amounts of starvation tribulations and malnutrition issues, these children are only going to get older and hungrier, worsening the already devastating situation present. The infant mortality and life expectancy rates are unfortunately off the charts negatively too due to malnutrition, Aids, and other problematic concerns plaguing the people. All three of these graphs present notable concerns that are only adding on to the already overwhelming issues Malawi is currently faced with.

Cape Maclear from the dive site.

I was determined not to let this observation ruin my weekend getaway and ruin it did not. Experiencing the scenery, both above and below the water’s surface was a treat and I highly recommend it for any traveler who chooses to brave a Malawian vacation. After all, the lake is 20% of the country so how could you not? God has provided us with a glimpse of what heaven will look like with the setting he designed and purposely placed on Lake Malawi!

Friday sunset to welcome in the Sabbath!