Different from what this blog may suggest, I am no longer enjoying my journey. I am back in Cape Town, missing Zambia and Malawi so much that I am already making plans to go back.
Even though I am back home, I still want to write some of the blogs I would have wanted to write. About the rest of my trip, my journey to Malawi, the wonderful people I got to meet. And most of all I want to share how this trip, by God’s grace, made me realise my calling.
When schools closed for December holidays, I had time to do other things. I visited Victoria Falls for the second time, this time with lots more water in it, and went camping for a weekend on the banks of the Kafue river with Floris and Jorrit.
We went fishing, cooked on a fire by the riverside, slept in a tent surrounded by hippo’s, did game drives and made a boat trip. All very nice touristy things, except for the journey back to Lusaka, when we took a bumpy ride in the back of a bakkie and we arrived covered in dust.
By now I was feeling very adventurous , so the next day I proceeded to the next item that had been on my to-do list for so long: visiting Malawi. I packed my life into my backpack and went to the hectic Intercity bus station to buy a ticket. Oops… the bus to Lilongwe would leave at 4 AM the next morning. It would be impossible to get there by public transport that time of the night.
But luckily the bus would already be at the station in the evening, so to avoid having to take an expensive taxi cab in the middle of the night I left my home in Chawama in the afternoon, planning to spend the night on the bus.
As I was waiting by the roadside for a minibus to take me to town, hoping it would still have space for my bags, a very big army bus stopped. The driver asked Bridget what she was doing with an American lady in Chawama… thanks to my huge backpack.
The man offered to give me a lift and I accepted. There were other people on the bus already, so it seemed safe. But after the other passengers got out, he started trying to convince me to marry him. He would get me a shop to sell in, so I would never have to struggle. I should not forget to mention that this man was probably a few years older than my dad, so I could not wait to jump of his bus.
At least he dropped me close to the bus station, and was kind enough to ask some random stranger to help me carry my bag to the bus station. After my experience minutes before, I was waiting for the moment this next guy would also start proposing. But he was not so scary at all. In fact he was so nice, and did not even want to be paid anything for helping me, so he kind of restored my faith in humanity.
I slept on the bus, but of course it did not leave at 4 as planned, but only past 6. Just when I was dozing in my chair, a very loud and made-up lady walked into the bus. The type who just demands attention and makes every head turn every head. She told some guys to please put her bags up, somewhere where she can keep an eye on them, in a very English accent.
The type I would not in normal circumstances be best buddies with. but guess who she chose to sit next to… Woohooo.
I shared my olives, salty crackers, peanuts and raisins with her, and of course she was fascinated by someone who buys olives for a bus trip. She turned out to be a great traveling buddy, who made kept me entertained for the whole trip, and offered me a shoulder to sleep on.
We became very close during the trip, almost as if we had jumped on this bus together, and she shared every detail of her long and complicated love-stories with me.
Crossing the border was a breeze with her around. She first did her make up and couldn’t understand how I live my life without any. And as soon as we stepped out, all the border guys could worry about was when we would be passing by again.
And the trip was not the last I saw of my dear new found friend. I met her again a few days later when she showed me around Lilongwe and we even travelled to Blantyre together after our week stay in Lilongwe.
Her bubbly, energetic personality made her very likable and her dolled-up face and fancy sense of style made her very appealing to many, but me and her were very different. We thought differently, and I could only keep up with her talk about her hot boyfriend and her next outfit for so long…
But she was lovely to travel with, and as my first impression of Malawi, she was the first to make me realise what the next weeks would prove over and over again: Malawians are the friendliest guys in Africa. :)
