Malaria and other fun facts

Malawi is one of the poorest countries in the entire world. Actually ranking in the bottom 10 of all countries. While it is true that most African countries are poverty stricken, Malawi is the poorest. With a population of over 13 million people stuffed into a landmass smaller than the state of Pennsylvania, it is not only poor but crowded as well. Half the population is under the age of 15, the per capita income for over 75% of the people is around $250 a year. Over 15% of the country is infected with HIV/Aids. The life expectancy is only 43 years! Though HIV/Aids is a prominent killer reeking havoc on nearly every single family as we have come across so many children who are being raised by an aunt or grandparent because both parents have passed away. The government is trying to do their absolute best but they seem to be losing the battle. Nearby Zambia actually has a program where if men go in to get circumcised they get $10 worth of free airtime for their cell phones. Circumcision seems to be quite a help to the spread of infection. But HIV/Aids is only one part of why the life expectancy is so low. The other major killer in Africa and other tropical parts of the world is Malaria. As a matter of fact, it is the number one health issue that we as travellers face on our journeys. There are a number of precautions that we are able to take to reduce our exposure none of which in and of themselves is 100% effective. Malaria is a parasite carried by mosquitoes mainly the female anopheles variety. So obviously the key to not getting malaria is to not get bit. We are here in Southern Africa during their “winter” so overall the amount of insects are low compared to other times of the year. The mosquitoes that carry malaria generally are active between dusk until dawn so every day around 4:30-5:00 we diligently put on long sleeved shirts and long pants and thoroughly spray any exposed areas with heavy duty deet or something similar. We took the preventative measure of spraying ALL of our outer layers of clothing with a chemical called premethrin. Along with spraying a double dose of premethrin on our mosquito net that we religiously bring with us when travelling in malaria infested areas. Since we are going to be travelling for nearly 5 months here in Africa, both of our doctors along with a travel consultant doctor recommended that we do not take any type of malaria propolactic medication due to the long term effects on the kidney and liver that can be devastating. People that live in malaria infested regions have a different regimen that they follow. Usually they are not able to afford either repellent or more importantly mosquito nets to sleep under, most if not all usually contract malaria at a very young age. Due to repeated exposure to malaria while growing up, by adulthood the ones that HAVE survived have usually built up some type of immunity and only develop mild cases of malaria. Since most westerners are never exposed to the parasite while growing up, the symptoms can be much more severe. The onset of symptoms can take up to 3 months after getting bit. Usually presenting themselves as a mild case of the flu, slight fever, aching bones, chills, general malaise. The symptoms usually are more severe at night time and almost non-existent during the day. If not treated immediately the symptoms can progress rapidly especially if it is the strain called falciparum “which is most prevalent” here in Southern Africa. Within 24 hours of initial onset of symptoms a person can become unconscious eventually falling into a coma followed by a certain death. Even if a patient is able to get immediate ICU care there is more than a 10% chance they will still die. The major problem here in Malawi besides the fact that most hospitals and clinics are severely under funded, poorly maintained with a lack of qualified medical professionals. The under qualified staff tend to diagnose many different ailments that they are presented as malaria for which they prescribe quinine which this drug is quite effective at subduing the malaria parasite (it can never be killed lying dormant in ones body) but as they prescribe it for many ailments it is not equally effective for obvious reasons. We have heard of a person that got bit by a snake and fortunately the snake was not poisonous as they were prescribed quinine and not the usual anti venom that we in the West would receive. Fortunately for the patient the snake was not poisonous allowing this person to live. But many other diseases and infections go untreated because of this lack of proper diagnosis. Needless to say, both of us are doing our absolute best to avoid getting sick, injured, or bit by mosquitoes.

The Last Four Days!

I am not sure if it was the full moon or the moon on the following night. It appeared over the lake shortly after the sun had made its daily descent. At first glance it seemed like a light from a large boat with a strong beam streaking across the lake, except that the one large craft on the lake (The Ilala ferry) was not due for several days. No other boats are present along the tranquil lake except for the small serene canoes. A bright red light shone across the dark waters like a traffic signal reflects upon rain slick streets. We have never seen a moon so big and red like the colour of a majestic sunset only the sun had long ago disappeared. We both stared in amazement as this big crimson globe cast an ever larger reflection over the rippling black lake, lighting up the sky in an eerie magenta as it made its slow climb toward the midnight sky. The moon stayed this deep red colour for several hours even as it reached the top of the sky. Magical....

The next morning was when all the fun began. A local character named "Happy Coconut", who for the past several weeks seemed like a jovial fun loving character who we had crossed paths with on an almost daily basis here and around town. But on this particular morning he had somehow made his way down to the reception area of Butterfly with about 6 or 7 Malawian policemen in rapid pursuit. The police were able to finally tackle "Happy" in nothing but his birthday suit. They immediately tried to cover his naked body and escorted him off to jail. The reason the police were after him in the first place was that he had allegedly hit one of the shop owners in town. It is our understanding that this is not the first incident with "Happy coconut" and the local authorities. He has had several "outbreaks" over the past several months but the problem is that he is sick and does have a violent temper when not medicated. Unfortunately the nearest hospital equipped to help him is in Mzuzu some 45km away. Apparently Happy Coconut has spent a number of visits at the Mzuzu mental hospital. It has been rumoured that in his own charming way he has persuaded the doctors and nurses that if fact he is alright and does not spend more than a night or two inside. Sure enough the very next night as Jeff was walking back from filling his water bottle a more agitated "Happy Coconut" appeared suddenly begging for a cigarette. Jeff made the mistake in engaging him, telling him that he did not smoke and that smoking was a bad habit and a scrooge to try and quit. This last comment seemed to set "Happy" off. Happy became very upset yelling that the whole smoking issue was a European/American plan to keep the black man down. Jeff was a bit taken  back as Happy moved closer in a menacing fashion, mind you Happy is no slouch standing over 6 feet tall with broad shoulders and probably not an ounce of body fat. Jeff tried to step back a few steps as Happy continued his explicative filled rant. In his calmest voice Jeff told Happy that while he did not agree with what Happy was spewing he could empathize. Jeff was finally able to break free and return to his bungalow and Happy walked off still shouting obscenties.When we went down to the dining area, sure enough there sat "Happy" with a scowl on his face and a small knife in his hand. He seemed to be randomly shouting at anyone who happened to look his way and continued ranting if anyone answered his obscure comments. Finally a night-watchman was able to coax happy away from the knife and got him to leave the premises. Though not quietly.

     The very next night while we sat at the communal table we were visited by George the gentleman who has done the translating for us during the special needs group. We both think the world of this man and he had been doing a great job not only translating for us and the kids but he was charged with rounding up the kids from their various villages which in itself is quite a task, that takes several hours each time. Monday at special needs he was acting quite strange, several times refusing to translate for us. At one point Alice had finally had enough with him when he had said that it was not necessary to translate that all the kids understood english.When George approached that night he had a strange blank look on his face. He did not immediately respond to our questions and eventually got up and walked toward the back of the compound without saying a word. The next morning while we were in town running a few errands George had reappeared back at Butterfly this time he was not as calm. While sitting at the community table in front of newly arrived guests he suddenly started to take his shoes off and throw them toward the lakeshore. Alice who happened to be walking by at the time tried to calm George down but to no avail, she knew what he was about to do next. Sure enough George started to take all of his clothes off and began running around stark naked playing with his privates in front of the now gathering crowd. Alice and Opahuel were able to coax him to one of the communal toilets and were able to lock him in there with his pile of clothes. They patiently waited as he slowly put his clothes back on, before they reluctantly let him back outside.  When we finally returned from town we dropped our groceries in our bungalow and we could hear what sounded like the blaring of talk radio.  It continued for quite a while so Jeff went down to the bar to ask Kwame if he could turn the radio down a bit.  When Jeff arrived at the bar he found George staring at the wall screaming in animated fashion various obscenities both in English and Tonga.  George did not respond as Jeff repeatedly called his name and he finally slowed his ranting down and Jeff was able to say hello but that was about it.  Unfortunately, mental health in Western countries gets pushed aside and here in Africa it is basically non-existent, there really is no answer.  George was finally escorted out by the police some 3 hours after the staff had called 911 even though the police station is only about a 12 minute walk away from butterfly space.  The very next day, something even more frightening happened.  As Erika was returning from her umpteenth visit to the loo, out of the corner of her eye she saw a man start to stumble and then fall down a 20 foot embankment hitting several trees on his descent. At first she thought that maybe the guy was just drunk (not uncommon) but then it dawned on her that the look of panic the guy had was not normal. She rushed down with several others to the landing spot and saw immediately the guy was convulsing from seizures. As the guy lay face down amongst the rocks people quickly were able to find a mattress and blanket to try and make the guy comfortable. Back at home when something like this happens we would immediately be on the phone calling 911 waiting the arrival of the ambulance. Here in Malawian there really are not emergency responders. (Remember the police that took 3 hours to show up?) We have seen a vehicle that roams about town looking much like an ambulance. It has ambulance stencilled on its side and is equipped with a siren and red light even. We were told that even though this car looks like it is ambulance it is used more as a transport for the hierarchy of the hospital getting them to and from work as opposed to actually functioning as transport for seriously sick or injured people. Only in Africa......while we were waiting by this poor boys side a feeling of utter helplessness overcame both of us. There was absolutely nothing we could do as suddenly the boy was overcome by yet another seizure, shaking violently and eventually vomiting a pool by his side. After this last seizure that seemed to last more than 15 minutes we both decided that this poor lad needed to get to the hospital somehow. We finally found someone who actually had credits on their phone and rang up a taxi. The taxi took over 1/2 hour to make the short distance and eventually we were able to load the guy into the car and before leaving the driver demanded the full fare (1000 kwacha) about $7.00 which does not seem like much but is more than a full weeks wages for most Malawians. The harsh reality is that even though it took more than 3 hours for us to get him to the hospital we knew that he would probably not get very good medical care...........

Prologue:    We found out that the gentleman did make it to the hospital and they were able to keep him overnight. They gave him some sort of medicine and also diagnosed the boy with Malaria which they concluded may have set off his seizures. The problem here in Southern Africa is that most things are diagnosed as Malaria no matter the actual affliction but that is another story........

It's about time

Time is of the essence or so they say.  That is the motto in which many of us have grown up with.  We are taught at an early age that it is extremely important to be on time.  Erika is always punctual.  I was born two weeks late and much like my mother who's birthday I have the honor of sharing, I am still perpetually late and still trying to catch up.  Both of us have spent a number of years in the hospitality/service industry.  We have dealt with all sorts of people and numerous amounts of deadlines.  It goes without saying that both of us, professionals that we are, have tried our absolute best to meet those deadlines.  Inevitably, things happen and it doesn't always come to fruition that the deadlines are met.  In the United States, a lot of people are quite patient and are able to accept having to wait for awhile so that everything can work it's way out but unfortunately there are those few, poor souls that are not able to accept that things are not always punctual.  They are the ones who in general tend to be miserable people, (glass half empty types if you will.)  The ones who want their hotel rooms comped because they could not check in at 9am even though it clearly states that checkin is after 4pm when they reserved the room.  The same ones who order dinner with many complications for the chef and expect it to be ready in five minutes before they decide to walk out of the restaurant because the service was so slow.  Traveling in developing countries would most likely send a lot of these types over the edge.  Here in Southern Africa  time is truly relative.  Society as a whole generally moves at it's own pace.  From our mini bus journey to South Luangwa that everyone said only takes 3 hours but ended up taking close to 13, to the restaurants that say dinner will be served in 10 minutes while we still wait an hour later, things tend to go at glacial speed.  Just the other day, one of the workers here in the area invited us to visit his village to check out his new bee keeping business.  We agreed on the day and time and of course when that moment arrived, he was not anywhere to be found showing up about a half hour late.  He told us that the walk to his village was only about 25 minutes so we proceeded to start walking and decided that since it was such a short walk we just wore sandals and not bother taking any snacks or water.   I know it was dumb but since it was only 25 minutes and we are both fairly fast walkers we didn't think it would be a problem.  Well, 30 minutes into our 25 minute walk, we were still climbing a massive, single track path through sharp corners and soft gravel.  Little did we realize this was only the beginning.  As we walked along this track, we had trouble gaining traction for the steepness of the slope even in this dry season.  We passed several villages each of which seemed to contain 5 to 10 small, mud houses though some of the houses were made of brick, all adorned with thatched roofs.  As we walked on, children came running from their houses saying "hello" as we passed as the adults gazed upon us wondering who our guide, Precious was contemplating why he was leading two "wazungas" deeper into the jungle.  The track climbed the edge of a lush ridge line hanging precariously like a ripe apple from a tree.  One side we were able to look out upon the sweeping views of the rolling, verdant hills towards central Malawi while on the other side we could see the distant hills along the Tanzanian/Mozambiquan border with the azure colored waters of the massive lake below standing guard like a sentry at it's post.  At about an hour into our 25 minute walk, the road finally flattened as we passed a football pitch, a barren, clay colored, rock strewn, rutted area, with two tilted goal posts, kids kicking a wadded up collection of plastic bags that they use in lieu of a ball.  Luckily the weather was on our side as the cloud cover kept it humid but quite cool as we continued onward.  Finally, about an hour and a half into our "brief" stroll, we turned off the main path towards a beautiful, rock strewn village.  It was here that Precious lived.  We sat on his porch as the local children came in wonderment to find out what these two white people were doing.  Precious went inside and came back outside with his bee keeper outfit and told us it was only 5 more minutes up to his bees.  We, tired from the steep climb up, decided that another 5 minutes would not be too much more so we blindly followed him further in to the dense jungle.  Of course, 5 minutes here in Africa turned out to be almost 1/2 hour before we arrived, our feet sore, our bodies aching, the bees themselves were interesting.  However, both of us at that point were quite tired and parched so we were thinking more of cold drinks than we were of the bees themselves. We returned back from the short 5 minute (25 minute) walk to his house and Precious said we would soon have lunch.  While waiting, we watched in amazement as some of the local boys had a small fire going where they were roasting rodent like creatures to a fine barbecued crunchiness and eating them like candy.  Precious was ever the gracious host providing us with a tasty meal.  Erika was looking at the meat hoping that it was not the same rats that we had seen being cooked up minutes before.  It is during these times that one seriously contemplates being a vegetarian.  After a nice meal and some small talk which is always a pleasure, we decided we had better make our way back towards home as our now short walk was taking up the better part of the day.  I am glad that we are patient people and realize that good things take a lot longer and are worth the wait. 

Butterfly Space -----

A little about where we ended up here in Malawi...  We are at Butterfly Space a community outreach program located along the shores of beautiful lake malawi.  Two English women, Josie a Northerner from York and AJ, a southerner from Bristol bought a old, dilapidated hostel/backpackers place that was quite neglected.  They have spent many thousands of kwacha ($1.00 dollar equals 146 kwacha) to turn the compound into a loosely stated community center.  Though Butterfly Space is now not neglected it is still quite rundown.  That is because the women, bless them, have put all the money back into the community.  Here on the compound they have built a number of small buildings to house the various functions that they run for the needy, which are many, here in Nkhata Bay.  One such building is a center for kids and also space for tutoring.  This gives dozens of children an opportunity for a couple of hours each afternoon to escape their daily lives and get to play games, make puzzles and interact with each other and most importantly just be kids because for the average child, household and farming chores incorporate  most of their youth.  There is also a library and internet center that allows free access for educational purposes.  Another space is set aside for community gatherings including informational education, for example, for people who are dealing with HIV/Aids.  We have been here almost two weeks and have started to settle in to a bit of a routine.  We have had the opportunity to work with some special needs children, a group of roughly 8 or 9 kids that not only have mental challenges but many also have physical issues as well.  These kids are not left behind more that they are living as if they do not exist in this society except to their loving families.  The local schools here are a disaster with as many as 150 children in a classroom with one teacher.  We in the West complain when the classes near 30 pupils per teacher.  When classes are so filled , a teacher's main objective is disciplined control.  They seem to focus most of their attention on the 10 to 15 percent of kids that are gifted.  This means that the remaining 85 percent are basically forgotten and left to their own devices.  The special needs kids are not even able sometimes to get to the school least wise get any type of attention at all.  Both Erika and I have been moved to tears because these kids really want to learn and are so appreciative of the time we spend with them.  Along those same lines, we are trying to arrange some home visits of the families of these special kids to try and teach them some basic household chores in order to relieve some of the pressures that their mothers are forced to endure during the course of any given day.  This includes teaching them how to wash dishes, how to wash their own clothes, fetch water etc...  It is fascinating going up into the small villages in the outskirts of Nkhata Bay.  We have walked up to a couple of hours to visit some of these special needs children's families and to see how spartan of lifestyles they lead. Most, if not all, of the houses in the surrounding area have no electricity, water is taken from a local well, sometimes up to a half hour walk away.  The family members sleep on thin bamboo mats placed directly onto a concrete slab if they are lucky or directly on a dirt floor.  A lot of times because the special needs children have some severe physical disabilities this type of sleeping condition impairs their ability to get a good nights sleep.  We had the opportunity last week to deliver a mattress to a child that has severe cerebral palsy who had previously been sleeping directly on the earth, the look on his face when he received the mattress was priceless.  The smile from ear to ear...  As we go out and talk to the families we have been literally bombarded with other villagers bringing their handicapped children to us searching for some kind of help.  Unfortunately, the resources at Butterfly Space are quite limited and there are too many children in need to be able to help them all.  As such, these kids will probably have to endure without any aid.  We have also been doing tutoring every day with a group of more gifted kids helping them with basic math and English.  We are really enjoying ourselves even though we would like more kids to participate, it seems only the more gifted kids really want to (as normal) learn.  We also have been taking charge of an afternoon kids club which gives children an opportunity to escape if only for a few hours their chores and to play games.  We have taught them a couple of old "drinking games" which they especially love..........All in all, we are trying our hardest to make some sort of little difference in this harsh but yet beautiful land.....

Amazing cuisines

Traveling can be an assault on all of the senses.  We are so fortunate to have all of our senses and be able to travel.  We have our eyes and have been able to see such magnificent sights and bear witness to the happenings of daily life around this magic sphere.  The Taj Mahal and Macchu Picchu come instantly to mind.  Our sense of smell has been affronted not only by the spice markets in Marrakesh but to the fresh baked baguettes all around France.  Of course we have been confronted by the stench throughout India.  Our hearing has been soothed by the slow hum of the prayer wheels being turned in Nepal and by the fishermen singing as they head out to sea from the sandy shores of Thailand.  Our sense of touch has been peaked by the soft feel of the silk carpets in Istanbul or of the touch of a young lama in Bolivia.  But without a doubt , my favorite sense is the sense of taste.  I'll be the first to admit I LOVE TO EAT!!  Coming from the USA, we are overly priviledged to have an abundance of just about every type of food imaginable.  Portland is no exception and we are able to shop 24/7 or to frequent many restaurants both day and night.  The USA is known for the ubiquitous hamburger along with many regional cuisines including cajun food in Louisiana, gigantic pastrimi and corned beef sandwiches in New York, Tex Mex in our Southwestern states and incredible Cuban cuisine in Miami, just to name a few.  However, food overseas is a whole other incredible story.  From the thin crepes of Belgium to the polshers of Denmark, tapas in Spain or Spanikopita in Greece, one could easily spend a lifetime eating their way through Europe.  Food in Latin America is also quite tasty, whether it is the tropical fruits of Honduras or the moles of Mexico, it doesn't get much better than that.  Let me not forget the Thali plates of India and falafel bars in Israel which make my mouth water just thinking about them.  My absolute favorite region in the world has to be SE Asia.  The street food there is some of the best tasting food I have ever had the pleasure to enjoy. Whether it be Singapore with its array of Chinese grills offering everything from Peking Duck or lo mein to noodles in a hoison sauce to my personal favorite, Georgetown Peneng, Malasia, where three food cultures descend upon the food scene.  Chinese, Indian, and Malay all with flavors that melt in one's mouth from the fresh indian chapatis and currys to a huge bowl of malay noodles with lemon grass and prawns , each and every street corner seems to have a new succulent delight.   I have to laugh at Erika because every time we pass through bangkok she turns into a ravenous, crazed person totally ignoring me and concentrating on eating as much of the street food she can possibly fit into her flat stomach.  As she works her way down the street from the calamari filled phad thai to the boat noodles in red curry, she does not relent while concentrating on finding both banana pancakes and fresh fruit on a skewer.  It is fun to watch as she tries to sample the various soups and rice dishes usually all within one walk around the block.  Yes, being able to savour the various flavors from around the world is quite a treat.  Things here in Southern Africa are a little different though.  In Africa people eat more just to fill up than to enjoy specific enticing flavors.  We have found over the last month and a half that there truly is not a lot of variety in the food here.  From Zambia to Malawi the staple food is either Nshima, white rice or fried potatos.  Needless to say, with all the starch groups represented, Jeff's blood sugars are racing.  Nshima is a dish served breakfast, lunch and dinner.  It is basically corn meal mixed with water served as a paste that could easily be used as mortar for brickwork for that's the way it hits your stomach.  We have found that although we are in the tropics there is not a lot of fresh fruit or vegetables to be had.  The only thing we have an abundance of at the moment are tomatoes and more tomatoes.........and more tomatoes.... so, both Erika and I have had our share of Nshima, rice and of course tomatoes.  What I wouldn't give for some of that Ecuadorian cuy (guniea pig) just about now.........

What if ??????............

We are sitting here on our balcony made of reeds overlooking our little slice of paradise.  The sun has long since set, a cool clear water of lake malawi is gently lapping against the rocks. In the far off distance, the lights from the small fleet of fishing boats glimmer their soft reflections against the tranquil waters.  The crickets are in the background singing their evening song.  The beat of african music is heard in the far off distance.  Erika is having a bit of a day...  Reflecting upon the what ifs?  I am not sure if it was the fact that when we visited the local clinic we were told that there was no rubbing alcohol or hydrocortisone to help our aching, itchy bites or the fact that we were many miles and many hours away from civilization.  A little history if you will, the night that we first met, I was able to get Erikaś phone number but of course not wanting to seem too eager, I waited the obligatory couple of days before I decided to call her.  Lucky for me I called with a few minutes to spare, in actuality she had given her number out a few times that fateful evening and she decided that whoever was to call first would be the one she would go out with (a little cocky in her young years).  It is my understanding that one of the other competitors was a computer geek working for intel who by now is probably a multi billionaire sitting on his yacht sitting somewhere in the Mediterranean most likely the French Riviera.  Right at this moment she could be sipping cold, champagne and eating fois gras instead of eating nshima (corn porridge) and beans and carefully checking her bottled water to make sure the seal has not been tampered with.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..........  Africa can have that kind of effect on a person.  We both feel like we are reasonably well traveled.  However, nothing we have experienced or endured before has quite compared to sub sahara africa.  The huge majority of transportation methods is extremely old, very run down, and quite slow.  Most roads that we have traveled are in poor condition at best.  The public transport is overcrowded to say the least.  Accomodations throughout are not in the least bit inexpensive.  The dollar value compared to other developing nations is extremely poor.  Even pitching a tent at a campsite is quite dear.  In general, food "except for Flatdogs camp" is basic.  High carbs, either white rice or Nshima (corn porridge) a few scattered vegetables and hardly any protein, all at an inflated price.  Of course there are two different price levels on most everything.  There is the local price and then the "masunga" price. 

We are in the dry winter season so dust is everywhere.  It gets into our clothes and our eyes and after most of our rides, we are literally covered in a brown haze.  It does beat the wet season where mud would make a lot of the roads we have traveled impassable.  The usual insect population inhabits most everywhere though there does seem to be more of them even in the big cities.  Malaria mosquitos are endemic throughout.  Luckily the colder weather on this side of the equator makes it so they are not as prevelant as during the wetter, more humid times but still...   The poverty here is grossly understated back home yet almost all of the people we have encountered seem very happy if not completely content.  I don't think Erika would trade all of this for that balcony room at the all inclusive resort in Cancun however, I am afraid to ask..............