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I’ve had more than my fair share of long bus rides, so when I got to Malawi I decided to switch it up. Lake Malawi makes up 1/5 of the country, and essentially runs lengthwise down the east side. Traveling via ferry for a day seemed like a better option than the cramped buses. Of course I had to get to the port first.
After three minibuses, one private taxi and two bicycle taxis (while wearing my backpack and daypack), I made it from Mbeya, Tanzania to Chirumba, in the north of Malawi. Chirumba itself is an insignificant town, but it is the most northern point on the lake that the Ilala services. The Ilala is a ferry that runs up and down Lake Malawi once a week. It is used primarily by inhabitants of lakeside villages to transport themselves and goods to other parts of Malawi. Often, the Ilala is their only form of transport, as most of these villages don’t have access to roads.
The "original" Ilala Ferry
Malawi is considered to be part of Southern Africa, so I no longer had a guidebook. I’m not sure if that really mattered because Lonely Planet usually has everything all wrong anyway. By asking enough people, I was pretty sure that the Ilala was going to depart from Chirumba this day, but I really had no idea what time.
I arrived there around 3:30pm, and as I was searching for food, I ran into an Australian couple I had met on a bus to Mbeya. I joined them at the bar, which was packed even though it was only 4pm! The manager of the place bought me a beer, and then another. I was surprised that a Malawian bought me a drink, because usually I’m being asked to buy others beer. Now that I had drank two beers (a beer is 17oz in Africa) and not yet eaten today, I was officially tipsy. The Australians had the same problem, so we made our way to a restaurant. We had to wait over an hour as they killed the chickens to make dinner, and by the time we finished eating the Ilala had arrived.
We boarded around 9pm onto the 1st class deck, which is the top level of the ferry. After hanging out for a few hours and watching the lightning in the distance, I lied down on my rented mattress and fell asleep (thank you, earplugs!). At around 2am the boat crew stumbled back from the bars in Chirumba and we got on our way. Not bad! Only an hour later than the scheduled departure time. But I think the apprentice had to sail because the captain was out of commission, if you know what I mean.
At 5:30am, I woke up to the sun rising. It was indescribably beautiful to watch the sunrise over Lake Malawi with the rolling hills in the distance. The water was strikingly blue and the lake so vast that it seemed more like an ocean.
Sunrise over Lake Malawi
We made a few stops at small villages along the lake. Dugout canoes brought passengers and their belongings to the boat to board. After several more hours of enjoying the view, the boat docked at Nkhata Bay, where I disembarked. I would have loved to stay on the full 3 days to Monkey Bay, but I was advised by other travelers to spend some time at Nkhata Bay. Still, the Ilala was a highlight and was certainly a nice break from the buses. And what’s better than accommodation and transport all in one price!
Dugout canoes dropping off passengers and their belongings
Overlooking Lake Malawi
While I’m in Rwanda I get an email from my older sister telling me that Purim (a Jewish holiday) is coming up and I should find some Jews in Rwanda to celebrate with. I’m busy thinking, “yeah right, like there are Jews in Rwanda,” when I get this crazy idea in my head. I remembered reading about some Ugandan Jews, and was now wildly considering rushing back to Uganda for Purim. My original plan (if you could even call it that) was to head down the west side of Tanzania to Malawi. But that’s the whole fun of backpacking without an itinerary, you can be spontaneous and change your plans at the last minute.
I usually let holidays pass by when I’m traveling, but Purim sort of rocks. We dress up in costumes, eat hamantashen (yummy cookies), tell the story of Purim – making noise everytime the bad guy is mentioned, get drunk and dance in the streets. Yup, I know what you are all thinking….Jewish holidays sound awesome.
I send a quick email to Robbie (in Uganda and also Jewish) to see if he is up for spending Purim with the Abayudaya Jews. The next day, I’m on a 10-hour bus ride back to Uganda. Once I arrive in Kampala, I spend the night and then jump another uncomfortable 5-hour bus ride to Mbale, where I meet Robbie and Jana. From there we take a taxi into the village where the Jews live. The community has a guest house where we stay, and there we meet two Israeli girls with the same idea as us.
The synagogue
Unfortunately I don’t carry a costume in my backpack (only the essentials) so I put on a dress and I am ready for synagogue. But then the woman at the guest house says she has a costume for me, and five minutes later I have a peach-colored Bugandan princess dress on with a blue sash and shoulder pads up to my ears. The service itself was very surreal to me. To think I am sitting in a synagogue in a small rural village in Uganda with a bunch of Ugandan Jews in costume. It was actually pretty funny because usually the men and women sit separately but there were so many people who cross-dressed that no one knew exactly where to sit. They sang Hebrew songs and read the Megillah (the Purim story) the same way my synagogue at home does. Well, almost the same. The singing included dancing and musical instruments we don’t use in the US. And reading the Megillah was done in Hebrew, Luganda and Swahili as opposed to just Hebrew.
After the service everyone crowded around the Rabbi’s house and waited for a portion of the two goats he slaughtered as a gift to the community. We headed back to the guest house for a delicious kosher meal, which included goat. I was the only one brave enough to try a bite.
Eating goat
The next day we went to synagogue again, watched the Purim play and visited the school and clinic in the community.
Children performing a play on the story of Purim
I actually wanted to spent a few more days in Rwanda. But leaving a bit early to spend Purim with the Abayudaya Jews was more than worth it. This Purim will definitely take the cake on being the most memorable.
I wanted to share a true story about a Rwandese boy named John, and his one and only pair of underwear.
We take things for granted. The food on our plates, the houses we live in, the shoes on our feet…In Africa all of these things are luxuries. Even underwear!
John grew up as a refugee in Uganda. His family fled Rwanda in the 70′s because of violence towards the Tutsis. As refugees they lived a tough life. For years, John was only fed one meal a day of porridge because that was all his family could afford. In order to pay his school fees, he had to work at a young age. His father was a part of the RPF (Rwandan Patriotic Front) and was killed when the RPF invaded Rwanda.
John studied hard, and to reward him for his hard work and good grades, his mom wanted to buy him a gift. When she asked John what he wanted, he didn’t give the typical response for a young boy. He told his mom that he wanted a pair of underwear. All his friends in school had underwear, and he didn’t want to get made fun of for not wearing any. His mom bought him a pair of underwear and he was happy.
John had an older cousin who used to make cool toy cars out of bottles, wire and any other scraps he could find. John asked his cousin to make him one and his cousin asked what he would get in return. John didn’t have much, but he offered to trade his most valued possession – his underwear.
John’s mom kept asking him if he had washed his underwear, and he would always reply “yes.” Finally, his mom wanted to make sure and requested that John give her the underwear to wash. Well this was obviously a problem because he had traded it with his cousin for a toy car. So he made up a story that he had mistakenly dropped it in the pit latrine. His mom believed him and thought the story was so funny that she told all her friends, causing embarrassment to John. But he went along with it anyway. When John was about 12, he decided to tell his mom the truth about the underwear. When he told her the story of how he traded it for a toy, she couldn’t keep from laughing. She found this to be funnier than the version he gave her years ago of having dropped it in the pit latrine.
John is now 27 years old. He is living in Rwanda and working in microfinance. He wants to help people who are less fortunate build better lives for themselves.
I’m sure many of you have seen the movie Hotel Rwanda. And I’m sure for many of you that is your only exposure to the 1994 genocide in Rwanda of the Tutsis. It was for me too, until recently. The genocide, its memories and aftermath still have a strong presence in daily life in Rwanda. Spend even one day in Kigali and you are bound to hear the heartbreaking story of a survivor, see a prisoner (genocidaire) dressed in a pink, blue or orange outfit (the color signifies the severity of the crime committed), or meet a child orphan who runs his or her household and cares for his or her younger siblings – or possibly all.
What is so incredible is that while the genocide is still so prominent, the country has also moved on. The government has created the Vision 2020 plan (www.enterprise-development.org/download.aspx?id=548) with detailed objectives to reconstruct Rwanda’s economy and maintain good governance. And the improvements thus far are noticeable. The country and its people are doing their best to put the past behind them and work towards a better life in Rwanda.
But putting the past behind them doesn’t mean they want to forget. There are genocide memorials all over the country. There are many churches where massacres took place, and a visit today will entail viewing the many skulls, remains and weapons that still lay intact from 1994. Yes, it is somewhat gruesome. But it lies as proof that the genocide really did happen. That over 1,000,000 deaths occurred, mostly Tutsis or moderate Hutus. And that the colonial powers played a large role.
In Kigali is the Genocide Memorial Centre. This memorial is fantastic! Outside are beautiful gardens where one can reflect on Rwanda’s past. Next to the gardens are mass graves and names etched into a wall, where surviving family members and friends can pay respect to lost loved ones. Inside are interactive displays that tell the story of Rwanda’s history, the genocide and the aftermath. There is a section for the children who lost their lives in the genocide. And there is also a section with tributes to other past genocides in the world, most noticeably, the Holocaust.
I walked out of there feeling sad, but also feeling proud. Proud that Rwanda did such a wonderful job creating a fantastic memorial to remember those that lost their lives in the genocide, and to help prevent something like this happening again in the future.
Mass graves at the Kigali Memorial Centre
Reflection gardens
Rwanda is home to about half the remaining population of near-extinct mountain gorillas. Some of the families have been habituated and for a hefty sum ($500), I visited one of the groups. I trekked through muddy conditions in search of the Amahoro group, meaning “peace” in Kinyarwanda. When I found them (aka I followed the ranger), I was only allowed to spend one hour with them. Any longer and they could become attached to you. They are so similar to us genetically that if you are sick, you can’t go trekking because they could easily contract your illness.
Watching the gorillas for an hour is quite magical. They come right up to you. The babies play. The silverback (king of the group) naps against a tree. I wanted to touch them because they are so cuddly but that’s obviously against the rules. But I did enjoy taking some photos.
So what do you all think? Is it worth $500 to spend an hour with these rare mountain gorillas? Supposedly, Rwanda is going to raise the permit price to $2000 in the next few years.
The really cute 8-month-old gorilla
Seriously, how cute is this pic???
From Kampala I headed to Kigali, Rwanda to visit Julie. She was a Kiva Fellow with me in Tanzania and now doing a Kiva placement in Rwanda.
I immediately fell in love with Rwanda. It is my favorite country in East Africa, and I almost wished I had done my Rotary Scholarship here.
Some interesting tidbits about Rwanda:
1. They don’t allow plastic bags in the country. When you cross the border they go through your luggage and take all your plastic bags. A strong effort to keep the country clean.
2. To follow up on that, on the last Saturday of every month everyone is required to go outside and clean up their neighborhood.
3. It is safe to walk in Kigali at night.
4. It is a beautiful country of 1000 hills.
5. There are no international atms in Rwanda.
6. It is the most expensive country in East Africa.
7. Kigali, the capital, is a sophisticated city.
8. Motorcycle taxis have an extra helmet for the passenger.
9. A country plagued by genocide in 1994 has come back with a vengeance.
