Just got back yesterday from a short 4 day trip to Zambia. We stayed at Wildlife again, which was nice as always. I still think it has by far the best sunset view. The sun goes down beyond the tree line on the opposite side of the slowly flowing but massive river, filled with hippos. Unfortunately it was too cloudy Friday night, our first night, to see a sunset. But we had a yummy, yummy dinner. I went on the night drive Saturday and saw the sunset from the top of a hill in the park, standing next to impala and overlooking buffalo bathing in a small pond. Epic much? We also saw giraffes, elephants, zebras, impala, bush and water buck, hundreds of beautiful birds, lots of rodents, plus a leopard.
I did get to watch the sunset Sunday night from the restaurant. It was small but incredible. I couldn’t see the sun itself but it streaked that side of the sky pink and orange. The clouds were in horizontal lines that reflected in the river. It was only Jaren, Nick, Catherine and I who had stayed back that night. The other four volunteers found a pride of lions munching on a zebra they had killed 5 minutes before. Then they drove five minutes down the road and found a hyena eating an impala it had just stolen from the leopard they saw walking away from its kill.
We drove back Monday and had John’s incredible enchiladas and fruit salad for dinner. Today I’m staying back from camp to get some work done. This week’s homestay!
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Hair
I love looking at hair. Botswana had incredible hair everywhere and Lilongwe is just the same; little girls and women everywhere you look with beautiful braids that swirl and cross. Sometimes they wear extensions, the longest of which extend way past the waist. Sometime they show off colored streaks – red and blue are my favorite. What’s incredible to me is how hair in Botswana and Lilongwe differs from that in rural villages. You can’t find braids decorating the heads of girls at primary schools where World Camp works. The time and money to dedicate to weekly or monthly trips to the salon just aren’t available. Instead, girls have their hair cut uniformly short.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Catch up - Malawi style
So much has happened; I’m not quite sure where to start. My last real post was about Christmas. World Camp certainly keeps me busy and away from my blog. I’ll maybe tell a few stories and not outline everything, because I certainly don’t remember a lot of it and most of it’s work.
All six volunteers were supposed to arrive on Dec. 30. On the 29th, we got two emails from the office in the States saying two volunteers were stuck in airports and wouldn’t get in until the 31st. So the next day I headed to the airport with Cyrus, one of our drivers, and waited for the other four volunteers. The plane emptied and no college-aged azungu girls got off the plane. A security guard bent the rules and let me look back into the baggage claim area but no one fitting the volunteer’s look was there. So I had Cyrus wait in case they walked by really late and went to the South African office. Not to go into details, but the lady helping me wasn’t all that helpful. Turns out only one of the girls was on the manifest, but apparently that doesn’t mean she’s necessarily on the plane. So convinced none of the girls were in Malawi, I headed home. 0 for 4. Luckily, about an hour after I got home, we got an email from one of the girls saying they were all in Joburg together and would be flying in the next morning. Although I’d spent about four hours at the airport, I was glad I hadn’t left anyone behind.
The next day we started orientation a full 24 hours late. Luckily, the volunteers are great and although we were rushed we never missed important points because we didn’t have enough time. We started camp bright and early Monday morning. The school we were at was wonderful. They already had an HIV/AIDS awareness club in place and two tree planting clubs. The teachers and students came to Day 1 on a public holiday – what dedication! The teachers were committed to improving their community and the students were obviously eager to learn.
When we were leaving on Day 3, we passed about ten students walking home on the road. A few of them ran after the bus for a few seconds, but one stayed with us for about five minutes, singing one of our morning songs into the window “Peel Bananas! Peel! Peel Bananas! Eat Bananas! Eat! Eat Bananas!”
Our first outreach project of the session was at Dzaleka refugee camp. again, a truly trying experience. Friday morning we worked with about 30 people. We did a condom demonstration and answered a whole lot of questions. In the afternoon we were given a tour by a few church leaders. It was incredible to see the living situations in the camp. The UN and Red Cross give out monthly rations of ufa (what you use to make nsima) and rice that people use to trade for other food, since they both nsima and rice are eaten with a relish (typically veggies or beans; meat is a special treat).
We saw the camp’s clinic was appeared much nicer than most of the rural clinics we see. The doctor described a wonderful clinic that helped the refugees as much if not more than the Malawians it treated. The refugees described it differently.
We saw the camp’s primary and secondary schools. We saw where the teaching college is being built for Malawians only. We walked through people’s fields of maize and small community gardens. We saw the only preschool in the camp, a single red brick building that accommodates more than 500 preschoolers. We saw the hall where refugees in transfer stay in tents. We saw the notice board where a number of refugees were reading the latest updates. We walked by a bar where we saw and said hi to a teacher from the last school. We passed the office where refugees go to get permits to leave the camp since they can’t do so without permission.
We were stopped Saturday morning in a trading center and told to pull onto a side street with about thirty other cars. Turns out a really important person was driving by and they were clearing the roads. We sat in the car for a few minutes and then heard it was President Bingu who would be passing by. So all eight azungus plus our three Field Staff piled out of the van and walked to the road. I saw the President of Malawi! it was through tinted windows and he was going ridiculously fast, but I saw him!
We made it to the camp a little late and started off talking about stigma. We quickly transferred into questions which turned into refugees asking World Camp for resources. They teach people in the villages about HIV but no one will come because they have no sugar or soap to hand out. When they teach in the camp people come and don’t ask for anything. They wanted shirts. They wanted food. They asked for money. They have ARVs but need more food to take them with. It was heartbreaking to know that WC can’t supply any of this. Is the information we come with any good if the people we’re talking to can’t make the changes they want to?
Sunday we were up early to hike Mt. Nkhoma. We left the house about a half hour after when we’d originally planned because it’d been raining all morning. We got to the mountain and the top was completely covered in clouds. The cloud cover made it cool enough but also completely erased the beautiful view. We scrambled up together in the densest vegetation I’ve ever walked through. It was incredible. The view from the top was absolutely horrible. You couldn’t see twenty feet away. We had lunch at the peak and then headed back down.
Today I stayed back from camp to plan our last outreach project and get some work done. I’m really excited to go to this last CBO. Chris, who I met with today, sounds like he’s put so much into his ten year old organization and they do truly great work.
Since I’m obviously really bad at posting in Malawi, feel free to check out World Camp’s blog since it’s updated weekly by volunteers: worldcampforkids@blogspot.com.
All six volunteers were supposed to arrive on Dec. 30. On the 29th, we got two emails from the office in the States saying two volunteers were stuck in airports and wouldn’t get in until the 31st. So the next day I headed to the airport with Cyrus, one of our drivers, and waited for the other four volunteers. The plane emptied and no college-aged azungu girls got off the plane. A security guard bent the rules and let me look back into the baggage claim area but no one fitting the volunteer’s look was there. So I had Cyrus wait in case they walked by really late and went to the South African office. Not to go into details, but the lady helping me wasn’t all that helpful. Turns out only one of the girls was on the manifest, but apparently that doesn’t mean she’s necessarily on the plane. So convinced none of the girls were in Malawi, I headed home. 0 for 4. Luckily, about an hour after I got home, we got an email from one of the girls saying they were all in Joburg together and would be flying in the next morning. Although I’d spent about four hours at the airport, I was glad I hadn’t left anyone behind.
The next day we started orientation a full 24 hours late. Luckily, the volunteers are great and although we were rushed we never missed important points because we didn’t have enough time. We started camp bright and early Monday morning. The school we were at was wonderful. They already had an HIV/AIDS awareness club in place and two tree planting clubs. The teachers and students came to Day 1 on a public holiday – what dedication! The teachers were committed to improving their community and the students were obviously eager to learn.
When we were leaving on Day 3, we passed about ten students walking home on the road. A few of them ran after the bus for a few seconds, but one stayed with us for about five minutes, singing one of our morning songs into the window “Peel Bananas! Peel! Peel Bananas! Eat Bananas! Eat! Eat Bananas!”
Our first outreach project of the session was at Dzaleka refugee camp. again, a truly trying experience. Friday morning we worked with about 30 people. We did a condom demonstration and answered a whole lot of questions. In the afternoon we were given a tour by a few church leaders. It was incredible to see the living situations in the camp. The UN and Red Cross give out monthly rations of ufa (what you use to make nsima) and rice that people use to trade for other food, since they both nsima and rice are eaten with a relish (typically veggies or beans; meat is a special treat).
We saw the camp’s clinic was appeared much nicer than most of the rural clinics we see. The doctor described a wonderful clinic that helped the refugees as much if not more than the Malawians it treated. The refugees described it differently.
We saw the camp’s primary and secondary schools. We saw where the teaching college is being built for Malawians only. We walked through people’s fields of maize and small community gardens. We saw the only preschool in the camp, a single red brick building that accommodates more than 500 preschoolers. We saw the hall where refugees in transfer stay in tents. We saw the notice board where a number of refugees were reading the latest updates. We walked by a bar where we saw and said hi to a teacher from the last school. We passed the office where refugees go to get permits to leave the camp since they can’t do so without permission.
We were stopped Saturday morning in a trading center and told to pull onto a side street with about thirty other cars. Turns out a really important person was driving by and they were clearing the roads. We sat in the car for a few minutes and then heard it was President Bingu who would be passing by. So all eight azungus plus our three Field Staff piled out of the van and walked to the road. I saw the President of Malawi! it was through tinted windows and he was going ridiculously fast, but I saw him!
We made it to the camp a little late and started off talking about stigma. We quickly transferred into questions which turned into refugees asking World Camp for resources. They teach people in the villages about HIV but no one will come because they have no sugar or soap to hand out. When they teach in the camp people come and don’t ask for anything. They wanted shirts. They wanted food. They asked for money. They have ARVs but need more food to take them with. It was heartbreaking to know that WC can’t supply any of this. Is the information we come with any good if the people we’re talking to can’t make the changes they want to?
Sunday we were up early to hike Mt. Nkhoma. We left the house about a half hour after when we’d originally planned because it’d been raining all morning. We got to the mountain and the top was completely covered in clouds. The cloud cover made it cool enough but also completely erased the beautiful view. We scrambled up together in the densest vegetation I’ve ever walked through. It was incredible. The view from the top was absolutely horrible. You couldn’t see twenty feet away. We had lunch at the peak and then headed back down.
Today I stayed back from camp to plan our last outreach project and get some work done. I’m really excited to go to this last CBO. Chris, who I met with today, sounds like he’s put so much into his ten year old organization and they do truly great work.
Since I’m obviously really bad at posting in Malawi, feel free to check out World Camp’s blog since it’s updated weekly by volunteers: worldcampforkids@blogspot.com.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Two Faces
As we drive by, kids always have one of two looks on their faces. The first is pure joy. They seem to love waving at the full bus of azungus driving on the bumpy, muddy road. They run from every corner of the village when they hear the rumble of the approaching car, standing, waiting, on the side of the road for the chance to wave and give a huge thumbs up. Their smiles reach from corner to corner as they lose their balance waving their arms trying to grab our attention.
The second look is complete concern; concern that their wave will go unanswered; concern that they will go unnoticed in the sea of kids; concern that we won’t return the next day for one final wave. Eyes widen as mouths turn downward to form frowns and all concentration is poured into ensuring the azungus notice their frantic waves.
The second look is complete concern; concern that their wave will go unanswered; concern that they will go unnoticed in the sea of kids; concern that we won’t return the next day for one final wave. Eyes widen as mouths turn downward to form frowns and all concentration is poured into ensuring the azungus notice their frantic waves.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Christmas at Cape Maclear
After a few hard days of work at the WC house, Jaren and I decided to take a few days off and celebrate Christmas at the lake. Instead of going to Senga Bay, where we take the volunteers every session, we wanted to check out Cape Maclear. We tried calling a few lodges with dorms but they were either full or didn’t answer – we decided to wing it. So we caught the 7am bus on Christmas Eve and got ready for the 5½ hour drive to Monkey Bay. We were some of the last ones on the bus so it was standing room only for us. About two hours in a seat opened up so I got to sit down and make friends with Johnny, the guy sitting next to me. Also on our bus: a chicken, tied up in a plastic bag and hung from the luggage rack.
We got to Monkey Bay (John’s home village) and were dumbstruck by the greenery and beauty. There were huge hills covered in trees and plants. We met some guys who drive between Monkey Bay and Cape Maclear and agreed to pay p300 for an 18km drive. So we hopped in the back of their truck along with three other Azungu, a lot Malawians and a few huge bags of maize. I sat on a paint can, which reminded me a whole lot of The Groover from rafting up in Idaho. We also saw a few troops of baboons on our drive.
Once we got to Cape Maclear, we tried to find some beds in dorms, but they were all booked. The only place we could find was a chalet at Tuckaway’s. It turned out to be really nice with a porch really close to the ocean. The beach was absolutely beautiful – we walked quite a ways down although the sand was some of the toughest I’ve ever seen. There was a huge island that looked remarkably like Lizard island in Senag Bay, just much closer. There was also a huge island to the right that was only separated from land by a narrow passage. While we were reading on the porch, a group of kids walked up and stood behind the 1foot tall gate they’re not allowed to pass. They had a drum set (two traditional drums held on a stand) and a makeshift guitar (strings tied to an empty gas can on one end and a stick on the other). They sang two songs for us and danced. The first went like this: “How are you? I’m fine! How are you? I’m fine! How are you? I’m fine! Muli bwa? Dili bwino! Muli bwa? Dili bwino! Muli bwa? Dili bwino!” and the second was “stronger” by Kenan. We had dinner that night at another small lodge, checked out the live music at the Gecko Lodge for about half an hour (a complete failure, it was 9pm and hardly anyone was there) and called it an early night.
On Christmas, we went for a swim first thing in the morning. There was a floating dock that we swam out to and both got really sunburned on. We had breakfast at the same small lodge and chippies at a nearby stand for lunch. We read on our porch and in hammocks, walked on the beach, played some Boa and swam again. I got to talk to my family, which was really nice, although I’m still jealous they had a snowy Christmas!
Once our Christmas phone calls were done, it was 7.30. We headed back to Geckos but their kitchen was closed for the night. We walked along the road and passed quite a few closed lodges. Finally we found one that was open. We sat down and ordered – although they didn’t have cold beer or Jaren's first two dishes of choice. After about an hour of waiting, we gave up our large table to a bigger group. We played some boa and tried not to think that we’d been waiting for our food for an hour and a half. Eventually we asked the waiter who said it’d be 10 minutes. Two minutes later, another guy brought out our dishes with steaming hot chips. My veggie burger was sliced tomato, onions, peppers and lettuce on a bun. Jaren’s fish was big but cold. So at 10 we paid our bill and headed home. It was another early night.
The next morning we were up at 5am to catch the 5.30 truck into Monkey Bay to catch the 6am bus. At 5:10 we got on the back of a truck going the wrong direction, although they told us you could still go that way. We drove all the way into town, turned around and drove all the way back. It was 6.05 by the time we left Cape Maclear. Luckily, even busses wait for small trucks. We drove the twenty minutes to Monkey Bay and hopped on the bus, which left right away. Apparently it had been waiting for our truck. This time I was lucky and got a seat. We made it back to Lilongwe without any major problems, although I was convinced the entire time our bus would break down – there were some pretty funky noises the whole drive. We showered and rehydrated after such a hot bus ride, watched a movie, cooked some baked Mac ‘n Cheese for dinner and had another early night. I don’t think I’ve stayed up past 9.30 in Malawi, apart from the one night we didn’t eat until 10.
Cape Maclear was a beautiful village that I’m really glad I got to see. The one sunset I saw was incredible. The people were really friendly but they also didn’t badger us once we said we didn’t want a boat to the island or to go to their Christmas BBQ at the Reggae Bar in town.
We got to Monkey Bay (John’s home village) and were dumbstruck by the greenery and beauty. There were huge hills covered in trees and plants. We met some guys who drive between Monkey Bay and Cape Maclear and agreed to pay p300 for an 18km drive. So we hopped in the back of their truck along with three other Azungu, a lot Malawians and a few huge bags of maize. I sat on a paint can, which reminded me a whole lot of The Groover from rafting up in Idaho. We also saw a few troops of baboons on our drive.
Once we got to Cape Maclear, we tried to find some beds in dorms, but they were all booked. The only place we could find was a chalet at Tuckaway’s. It turned out to be really nice with a porch really close to the ocean. The beach was absolutely beautiful – we walked quite a ways down although the sand was some of the toughest I’ve ever seen. There was a huge island that looked remarkably like Lizard island in Senag Bay, just much closer. There was also a huge island to the right that was only separated from land by a narrow passage. While we were reading on the porch, a group of kids walked up and stood behind the 1foot tall gate they’re not allowed to pass. They had a drum set (two traditional drums held on a stand) and a makeshift guitar (strings tied to an empty gas can on one end and a stick on the other). They sang two songs for us and danced. The first went like this: “How are you? I’m fine! How are you? I’m fine! How are you? I’m fine! Muli bwa? Dili bwino! Muli bwa? Dili bwino! Muli bwa? Dili bwino!” and the second was “stronger” by Kenan. We had dinner that night at another small lodge, checked out the live music at the Gecko Lodge for about half an hour (a complete failure, it was 9pm and hardly anyone was there) and called it an early night.
On Christmas, we went for a swim first thing in the morning. There was a floating dock that we swam out to and both got really sunburned on. We had breakfast at the same small lodge and chippies at a nearby stand for lunch. We read on our porch and in hammocks, walked on the beach, played some Boa and swam again. I got to talk to my family, which was really nice, although I’m still jealous they had a snowy Christmas!
Once our Christmas phone calls were done, it was 7.30. We headed back to Geckos but their kitchen was closed for the night. We walked along the road and passed quite a few closed lodges. Finally we found one that was open. We sat down and ordered – although they didn’t have cold beer or Jaren's first two dishes of choice. After about an hour of waiting, we gave up our large table to a bigger group. We played some boa and tried not to think that we’d been waiting for our food for an hour and a half. Eventually we asked the waiter who said it’d be 10 minutes. Two minutes later, another guy brought out our dishes with steaming hot chips. My veggie burger was sliced tomato, onions, peppers and lettuce on a bun. Jaren’s fish was big but cold. So at 10 we paid our bill and headed home. It was another early night.
The next morning we were up at 5am to catch the 5.30 truck into Monkey Bay to catch the 6am bus. At 5:10 we got on the back of a truck going the wrong direction, although they told us you could still go that way. We drove all the way into town, turned around and drove all the way back. It was 6.05 by the time we left Cape Maclear. Luckily, even busses wait for small trucks. We drove the twenty minutes to Monkey Bay and hopped on the bus, which left right away. Apparently it had been waiting for our truck. This time I was lucky and got a seat. We made it back to Lilongwe without any major problems, although I was convinced the entire time our bus would break down – there were some pretty funky noises the whole drive. We showered and rehydrated after such a hot bus ride, watched a movie, cooked some baked Mac ‘n Cheese for dinner and had another early night. I don’t think I’ve stayed up past 9.30 in Malawi, apart from the one night we didn’t eat until 10.
Cape Maclear was a beautiful village that I’m really glad I got to see. The one sunset I saw was incredible. The people were really friendly but they also didn’t badger us once we said we didn’t want a boat to the island or to go to their Christmas BBQ at the Reggae Bar in town.
Arrived safe in Malawi!
And boy does it feel great to be back home in the WC house. Thanks to me losing my passport, I hadn’t really expected to get into Lilongwe until Thursday at the earliest. But luckily, despite quite a few hiccups, everything worked out.
So after my trip to the Embassy, I hung out at the program house for awhile. I really wanted to see my host mom, Tiny, in the hospital (she was planned to have a cesarean and have a baby girl!) but it didn’t look like it’d work out with the timing. I had a cab coming at 3:30 and it was already 1:30. I took a cab home and found my host dad and sister there. They’d met Atlha, the newest member of their family and were now letting mom and baby rest. They could go back and visit at 3. I didn’t think there’d be enough time to go to the hospital and back, but John convinced me there was. As we were waiting to leave, two of his constituents showed up at our house. He said they weren’t friends and that they’d just showed up to ask him for things. He was clearly annoyed and said that this is just what people did; they showed up to their representatives and asked for things. But isn’t that the point? Shouldn’t he be fighting for what his constituents want in parliament? It was weird to watch him dismiss these two men so easily when he was elected by them to serve them. I was impressed with the easy access these men had to their representative and upset with how easily John dismissed it.
So a few minutes after 3pm, we left the house for the hospital. We found Tiny and Atlha sleeping, although Tiny woke up when we walked in. Atlha had been born at 10am, so she was just five hours old. She was beautiful. Her little hands were all curled up and she was wearing one of those cute little hats the hospital gives to every new baby. I really wanted to hold her but also knew to never wake a sleeping baby.
At 3:20 we left for the house again. When we pulled up, Lala, my very trusted taxi driver was already waiting. He joked about me never being on time, because this was the second time he’d had to wait for me, although we pulled into the driveway at 3:29. I grabbed my bags, said goodbye to Ame, and hopped in the taxi. We drove the thirty minutes to the airport and I tried to check in. Tried being the key word in that sentence.
The lady at the desk told me I had to go to the special desk to get authorization to check in. So I did, and the man who helped me was a friend of Phono’s who I’d talked to on the phone when I was trying to move my tickets up. He printed out an authorization card and sent me back to the same lady. But when she tried to check me in again, she realized my ticket was booked for Dec. 27. So I went back to Phono’s friend and asked what he could do for me. He said although my ticket was for the 20th, my booking was for the 27th. WTF? He could change it for $200. I knew it was worth it but also asked if he could get that down at all. And he did! He got it to p200, which is approximate $64. So we changed my ticket to the right day and I checked in.
Then I went to security (after chugging my nalgene) where they didn’t notice the pocket knife I’d forgotten to take out of my backpack. They also didn’t care about the toothpaste or hand sanitizer I had with me. I got to the immigration desk and handed over my brand new passport. The immigration office was not happy I didn’t have an entry stamp. So I explained I’d lost my passport and therefore the stamp. She got on the phone with her supervisor for quite awhile and asked me a lot of questions. In addition to not having a stamp, I’d lost my visa extension paper that I’d paid for in Maun. So my original visa had expired as well. She asked why I’d stayed in Tlokweng, which is the address I’d given when I arrived. I was really confused until I realized the office had relocated to Gabs and I’d given the old address. So in addition to not having any of the correct paperwork, it seemed like I’d lied on my immigration form four months before.
She asked for a letter confirming I was a student but since I didn’t have one, really didn’t believe me. I told her that on my way into the country, I’d shown my program manual and that had been enough. She asked her supervisor to come over and told me to stand to the side and wait. So I waited a little less than ten minutes, until a woman on the biggest power trip ever walked over. She was strutting slowly and swinging her keychain back and forth. She came up to me, didn’t say hello, and asked for my passport. Since I didn’t have it, we walked over to the immigration both together and had a long conversation with the immigration officer. Again, I was asked for my visa extension papers and a letter proving I was a student. Since I didn’t have either, the supervisor and I went back out through security and called my bag off the plane. At first I thought she wouldn’t let me leave, but she just wanted to see my student manual. So I showed it to her, and she decided it was enough. We went back through security and I was given an exit stamp and allowed to run to my plane after they both told me independently that I should be much more careful the next time I came to Botswana and that they were doing me a huge favor. Aysh!
So I ran for my plane. It was pretty much empty so I had the row to myself. I spent the night in the Joburg airport, and since I’d planned on it this time, I brought lots of extra socks and jackets to stay warm with. I napped for a few hours and caught my 10am plane the next morning. Jaren picked me up at the airport and we started working right away. We rearranged the furniture in the annex, living room and office and got some office work done. Today, we ran a few errands in town, explored the new mall and took a Christmas card picture with John, Ngoni and Mr. Vitto!!! Check out World Camp’s blog (worldcampforkids@blogspot.com) or their facebook page to see it… And trust me, you don’t want to miss it!
So after my trip to the Embassy, I hung out at the program house for awhile. I really wanted to see my host mom, Tiny, in the hospital (she was planned to have a cesarean and have a baby girl!) but it didn’t look like it’d work out with the timing. I had a cab coming at 3:30 and it was already 1:30. I took a cab home and found my host dad and sister there. They’d met Atlha, the newest member of their family and were now letting mom and baby rest. They could go back and visit at 3. I didn’t think there’d be enough time to go to the hospital and back, but John convinced me there was. As we were waiting to leave, two of his constituents showed up at our house. He said they weren’t friends and that they’d just showed up to ask him for things. He was clearly annoyed and said that this is just what people did; they showed up to their representatives and asked for things. But isn’t that the point? Shouldn’t he be fighting for what his constituents want in parliament? It was weird to watch him dismiss these two men so easily when he was elected by them to serve them. I was impressed with the easy access these men had to their representative and upset with how easily John dismissed it.
So a few minutes after 3pm, we left the house for the hospital. We found Tiny and Atlha sleeping, although Tiny woke up when we walked in. Atlha had been born at 10am, so she was just five hours old. She was beautiful. Her little hands were all curled up and she was wearing one of those cute little hats the hospital gives to every new baby. I really wanted to hold her but also knew to never wake a sleeping baby.
At 3:20 we left for the house again. When we pulled up, Lala, my very trusted taxi driver was already waiting. He joked about me never being on time, because this was the second time he’d had to wait for me, although we pulled into the driveway at 3:29. I grabbed my bags, said goodbye to Ame, and hopped in the taxi. We drove the thirty minutes to the airport and I tried to check in. Tried being the key word in that sentence.
The lady at the desk told me I had to go to the special desk to get authorization to check in. So I did, and the man who helped me was a friend of Phono’s who I’d talked to on the phone when I was trying to move my tickets up. He printed out an authorization card and sent me back to the same lady. But when she tried to check me in again, she realized my ticket was booked for Dec. 27. So I went back to Phono’s friend and asked what he could do for me. He said although my ticket was for the 20th, my booking was for the 27th. WTF? He could change it for $200. I knew it was worth it but also asked if he could get that down at all. And he did! He got it to p200, which is approximate $64. So we changed my ticket to the right day and I checked in.
Then I went to security (after chugging my nalgene) where they didn’t notice the pocket knife I’d forgotten to take out of my backpack. They also didn’t care about the toothpaste or hand sanitizer I had with me. I got to the immigration desk and handed over my brand new passport. The immigration office was not happy I didn’t have an entry stamp. So I explained I’d lost my passport and therefore the stamp. She got on the phone with her supervisor for quite awhile and asked me a lot of questions. In addition to not having a stamp, I’d lost my visa extension paper that I’d paid for in Maun. So my original visa had expired as well. She asked why I’d stayed in Tlokweng, which is the address I’d given when I arrived. I was really confused until I realized the office had relocated to Gabs and I’d given the old address. So in addition to not having any of the correct paperwork, it seemed like I’d lied on my immigration form four months before.
She asked for a letter confirming I was a student but since I didn’t have one, really didn’t believe me. I told her that on my way into the country, I’d shown my program manual and that had been enough. She asked her supervisor to come over and told me to stand to the side and wait. So I waited a little less than ten minutes, until a woman on the biggest power trip ever walked over. She was strutting slowly and swinging her keychain back and forth. She came up to me, didn’t say hello, and asked for my passport. Since I didn’t have it, we walked over to the immigration both together and had a long conversation with the immigration officer. Again, I was asked for my visa extension papers and a letter proving I was a student. Since I didn’t have either, the supervisor and I went back out through security and called my bag off the plane. At first I thought she wouldn’t let me leave, but she just wanted to see my student manual. So I showed it to her, and she decided it was enough. We went back through security and I was given an exit stamp and allowed to run to my plane after they both told me independently that I should be much more careful the next time I came to Botswana and that they were doing me a huge favor. Aysh!
So I ran for my plane. It was pretty much empty so I had the row to myself. I spent the night in the Joburg airport, and since I’d planned on it this time, I brought lots of extra socks and jackets to stay warm with. I napped for a few hours and caught my 10am plane the next morning. Jaren picked me up at the airport and we started working right away. We rearranged the furniture in the annex, living room and office and got some office work done. Today, we ran a few errands in town, explored the new mall and took a Christmas card picture with John, Ngoni and Mr. Vitto!!! Check out World Camp’s blog (worldcampforkids@blogspot.com) or their facebook page to see it… And trust me, you don’t want to miss it!
Monday, December 20, 2010
Passport Mathata
Aysh! Ke mathata. Somehow I managed to lose my passport in Botswana. Oops! I realized it Friday afternoon, the day before my flight out of Bots and after the US Embassy had closed for the weekend. I called their afterhours number and was told no one could help me until Monday. So I went online, researched all the forms I'd need and started to gather them all up, and believe me, it wasn't easy. I printed two forms from online and filled them out. I went to the police station and filed a claim. I made copies of my CA Driver's License with an incredibly temperamental copier. I had my mom scan and email me a copy of my birth certificate and passport (THANKS!). I collected copies of my health insurance and travel insurance. I even grabbed my immunization records. And of course, I made sure I had enough money to cover any charges they could throw at me. I moved my flights to Wednesday. I told my Gabs host family I'd be staying a few extra days and that I was sorry to take their extra room but that I was super excited to meet Atlha, their baby girl who was due Monday. They told me it wasn't a problem; that they were happy to have me stay!
Monday rolled around and I showed up to the embassy at 8am, even though it had opened at 7:30. Turns out they don't deal with citizens until 9:30. So Phono (my program director) and I went for a cup of coffee and returned to the huge embassy right at half nine. I was let in but Phono had to stay outside the gate. They made me leave my backpack, computer and cell phone in the security office. I went through the metal detector and was ushered through a door that had to be opened from the other side of bullet proof glass. The security guard who walked me through the beautiful gardens to the building walked behind me. I tried to talk to him but he kept saying "let's go" and pointing toward the door. I felt like I was being tried in court, being led to the podium.
He let me inside and told me to sit down. About fifteen minutes later, I saw the sign saying "please right bell for help." So I did and was helped immediately. I only had to hand over my Driver's License and the two forms I'd printed online. Then I had to pay the fee: $135. Ouch, no small chunk of change. I was told to wait twenty minutes for my passport. About forty minutes later, a man walked out and we went over my travel plans. Since I'd be returning to the States fairly soon, we decided a passport good for three months would work fine, and that I'd have to get a real passport as soon as possible. Fifteen minutes later, I was walking out with a brand new passport. All in all, the process took just over an hour inside the building. I was ushered back out to the gate by a female security guard this time, who was willing to chat but still walked behind me. I still felt like a criminal.
Phono and I drove back to the program house, where my mom and travel agent (THANK YOU BOTH!) woke up in the middle of the night to rebook my flights for tonight! So now the plan is to fly to Johannesburg on the 5:35pm flight out of Gaborone today (Monday), spend the night in the Joburg airport, and then connect to Lilongwe tomorrow (Tuesday) at 10am!
Because my life is never boring, I'm going to try to squeeze in a visit to the private hospital to visit my host mom, who is giving birth to their second child, Atlha. Atlha means to hug, ka Setswana. I'll only have about an hour at the hospital (assuming my family comes soon to pick me up!) before I have to head home to gather up my already packed bags (always be prepared!) to head to the airport!
I'm just so excited everything worked out as well as it did. I'll be in Malawi from tomorrow until Jan. 31, when I fly back to Maine to start spring semester! Although a break/chance to see my family in Cali would be great, I couldn't be happier that I'm heading back to Malawi so soon.
Monday rolled around and I showed up to the embassy at 8am, even though it had opened at 7:30. Turns out they don't deal with citizens until 9:30. So Phono (my program director) and I went for a cup of coffee and returned to the huge embassy right at half nine. I was let in but Phono had to stay outside the gate. They made me leave my backpack, computer and cell phone in the security office. I went through the metal detector and was ushered through a door that had to be opened from the other side of bullet proof glass. The security guard who walked me through the beautiful gardens to the building walked behind me. I tried to talk to him but he kept saying "let's go" and pointing toward the door. I felt like I was being tried in court, being led to the podium.
He let me inside and told me to sit down. About fifteen minutes later, I saw the sign saying "please right bell for help." So I did and was helped immediately. I only had to hand over my Driver's License and the two forms I'd printed online. Then I had to pay the fee: $135. Ouch, no small chunk of change. I was told to wait twenty minutes for my passport. About forty minutes later, a man walked out and we went over my travel plans. Since I'd be returning to the States fairly soon, we decided a passport good for three months would work fine, and that I'd have to get a real passport as soon as possible. Fifteen minutes later, I was walking out with a brand new passport. All in all, the process took just over an hour inside the building. I was ushered back out to the gate by a female security guard this time, who was willing to chat but still walked behind me. I still felt like a criminal.
Phono and I drove back to the program house, where my mom and travel agent (THANK YOU BOTH!) woke up in the middle of the night to rebook my flights for tonight! So now the plan is to fly to Johannesburg on the 5:35pm flight out of Gaborone today (Monday), spend the night in the Joburg airport, and then connect to Lilongwe tomorrow (Tuesday) at 10am!
Because my life is never boring, I'm going to try to squeeze in a visit to the private hospital to visit my host mom, who is giving birth to their second child, Atlha. Atlha means to hug, ka Setswana. I'll only have about an hour at the hospital (assuming my family comes soon to pick me up!) before I have to head home to gather up my already packed bags (always be prepared!) to head to the airport!
I'm just so excited everything worked out as well as it did. I'll be in Malawi from tomorrow until Jan. 31, when I fly back to Maine to start spring semester! Although a break/chance to see my family in Cali would be great, I couldn't be happier that I'm heading back to Malawi so soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
