Despite its small size, Malawi sparkels with quickly=20 accessible variety, writes Stephanie Nettell
FOR a while the road south from Lilongwe, Malawi’s spacious=20 but somehow amiably suburban capital, closely follows the=20 Mozambique border. On its right are the remains of=20 pathetically blasted dwellings, on its left neat undamaged=20 huts — but they are empty and without roofs.
It’s a surreal line where the Mozambique war pulled up=20 short: refugees flowed over it, to be given the=20 unquestioning African hospitality that, regardless of the=20 poverty of the host, is always owed to family (which, but=20 for the caprices of colonial maps, they would have been).=20 When the balance of the war tipped the other way, they=20 flowed back again — and took their useful millet-thatch=20 roofs with them.
“A brick house for everyone,” was the promise at=20 independence 30 years ago, although most of the simple huts=20 in this narrow, heavily settled country are deceptively=20 still mud-plastered. Only the frequent little humped kilns=20 suggest the voracious market. Bricks are fashioned from the=20 soil of the low, moist dambo areas, then baked in mud- coated piles.
Wood is the key to everything, from smoking fish to keeping=20 warm, and we, as privileged visitors to the national parks,=20 probably saw more trees in two weeks than many locals now=20 see in a year. Great effort is going into persuading the=20 people of the benefits that conservation could bring to the=20 surrounding community — like beekeeping (in a Nzuzu=20 supermarket I bought wonderfully thick honey gathered by a=20 co-operative from the very hives I would see hanging from=20 Nyika’s trees), or farming guinea fowl and rock hyraxes.
That border road was the start of our trip, slowly=20 descending towards Liwonde, the small park which clasps the=20 Shire (as in “Up the Shire river …”) as it flows=20 southwards out of Lake Malombe (itself a dewdrop hanging by=20 the Shire from the tip of Lake Malawi) towards, eventually,=20 the Zambezi.
This great river has been worryingly low for 14 years,=20 affecting hydroelectric schemes and tempting the=20 cultivation of parkland on either side. During the hungry=20 drought of two years ago, 160 fishermen attacked the park=20 headquarters to be allowed in to fish. Unsurprisingly, many=20 of them are still there. It was awesome to see them calmly=20 watching their traps so close to hippos, crocodiles and the=20 boisterously noisy elephants that come down to enjoy the=20
From=20the safety of midstream we gently pottered 30=20 kilometres up river to Mvuu Camp. That first night some of=20 us ducked out of trekking to the shower blocks because of=20 the freakish cold. This was the “Chiperone”, not an Italian=20 sausage but the grey weather named after the mountain to=20 the south from whence it comes.
Mvuu perches high on the riverbank with mopane woodland=20 behind, still, in late October, winter-stark as it waited=20 for the rains. This is antelope country; one tableau=20 starred oribi, sable and reedbuck together with the more=20 commonplace backing of waterbuck, bushbuck and impala. And=20 raptors. On our late-afternoon drive, a martial eagle had=20 draped the remains of a monitor lizard over a high branch,=20 its tight crop explaining its half-hearted pretence at=20 guarding it from the palm-nut vulture and fish eagle that=20 were hanging around.
Next sight was a Pel’s fishing owl, softly russet with huge=20 dark eyes, and a long-crested eagle, small in comparison,=20 its knight’s-helmet feathers streaming in the wind. Then a=20 western banded snake eagle, against a backdrop of thousands=20 of cormorants roosting in a tree they had turned to a=20 whitened skeleton, the dying light glowing on their pale=20 breasts. Pity about the awful stench downwind.
While we marvelled over our own exotics, like a flock of=20 wheeling skimmers, handsome in their dinner jackets and red=20 bills, our guide and mentor was ecstatic at his first, and=20 very rare, grey plover. David Foot, a 31-year-old Malawian=20 with the fair looks so common in ex-colonial Africa, has=20 run his own business for six years.=20
Malawi’s representative at the African convention of=20 guides, he once worked with Robin Pope, the guru of=20 Zambia’s Luangwa Valley, and has the same encyclopaedic=20 passion for wildlife. We soon learnt, say, that it was the=20 phoenix (reclinata) palm that floats its streamers in the=20 wind, the borassus (aethiopum) that’s fan-shaped, the=20 hyphaene that have the vegetable ivory nuts, whose outer=20 layer of sweetmeal biscuit baboons and elephants love –=20 the bolder spirits tried some windfalls, but after finding=20 16 in one elephant dropping, I couldn’t help wondering=20 where they’d been — and the raffia palm that has the=20 largest leaf in the world.
Up the dry beds of the river’s tributaries were red=20 mahogany, khaya nyasica, labelled by early naturalists=20 after the country, then Nyasaland, and the native name –=20 except that khaya means “I don’t know”. Always a nice=20 story, no matter how often you bump into it.
Amid the mopane were giant fleshy euphorbia, with trunks=20 like trees, and baobab (the monkey-bread tree), sometimes=20 fallen like dead elephants. But on the drive north to=20 Monkey Bay, on the western shore of the lake, there was a=20 positive forest of baobabs stretching unimaginably mile=20 after mile — Malawi has more baobab than anywhere else in=20 mainland Africa.
We were heading for a private lakeshore cottage in Lake=20 Malawi National Park, its lawn dropping straight to the=20 white beach — from the patio we watched a black egret=20 fishing in the shade of its umbrella-arched wings. Small=20 monkeys in clogs tore round a racing circuit on the roof,=20 and behind us the barren bush-scrub covering a huge kopje=20 of rounded rocks proved alive with birds.
The lake, the last of the Rift Valley’s, is the third=20 largest in Africa and the fourth deepest in the world. The=20 rainbow-bright fish that nibble at snorkellers’ hands at=20 nearby Cape Maclear are among the hundreds of cichlids that=20 have evolved uniquely here, many of them enlivening the=20 world’s fish tanks. Our cottage overlooked a small bay, but=20 even this felt like the sea. Away from concentrated=20 populations the water is said to be free of bilharzia worm,=20 but you must take hippo warnings seriously.
These holiday homes lie amid a small working community for=20 whom the beach is a place to fish, wash clothes and gossip.=20 The fertile soil around the kopje is strip-farmed, edged=20 with little straw roofs on poles to shelter people waiting=20 to scare baboons from their maize, which every backyard has=20 its khokwe (granary) to dry and store.
Life may be more free in these post-Banda days but it can’t=20 be easy: a middle class may be emerging, but 90 percent of=20 the population lives in poverty, even by African standards,=20 and their noticeably sweet-natured friendliness has a=20 submissiveness about it one no longer encounters in=20 neighbouring countries. Yet I don’t believe timidity was=20 the only reason I could stroll alone through Mzuzu’s=20 market, accosted only by smiles. So David was right to=20 scold me for giving sweets to a little lad selling corn=20 cobs at the petrol pumps.
The BBC World Service, which used to be blocked, comes over=20 on village loudspeakers, along with local titbits like=20 someone’s exam success; they’re aiming at a 60:1 pupil- teacher ratio, but our lakeside district was still coping=20 with 150:1. The kwacha (“dawn”), which has devalued=20 savagely over the past year to around 5p or so, contains=20 100 tambala; the minimum daily wage is about 8 kwacha, but=20 2.50 (the price of a newspaper) is not uncommon for=20 labourers. A bicycle, that great enabling symbol of=20 emerging Africa, costs 700 kwacha, a litre of diesel 3.60.
North again, by the Chia lagoon, strategically on the road=20 that takes its fish to the Lilongwe market, just as=20 Nkhotkatota, close by, was once a strategic slavery centre=20 on the infamous trail across the lake to the ocean coast.=20
We stopped at Chinteche’s lakeside inn, whose bedrooms open=20 straight on to the sand and the rising sun, and where a=20 walk at dusk caught the pale fluttering streamers of a=20 pennant-winged nightjar. Then a long drive towards the=20 Nyika Plateau took us through gloriously rolling=20 countryside, over the ridge to the region with the greatest=20 rainfall, past Malawi’s only rubber plantation (eucalyptus,=20 tobacco, sugar, maize and, these days, cashews — it’s a=20 wholly agricultural economy), in and out of Mzuzu (lilac- blue with jacarandas), to wind up and up through hillsides=20 flaming copper with the spring leaves of brachystegia.
At 1 900 metres brachystegia gives way to protea, whose=20 nine species — and the darting sunbirds that love them –=20 make these highlands spectacular in March and April,=20 sandwiched between 130 species of orchid in January- February and the 26 species of helichrysum (everlasting=20 flowers) that follow. We, in October, could only salivate=20 at what we heard from David Foot, who’s working on a=20 photographic study of the flowers of the Nyika. But, even=20 for us, bright flowers nodded and waved — or, like the=20 fireball amaryllis, lay like blazing cushions — among=20 these rolling montane grasslands.
David runs a stable of 14 horses close by Chelinda Camp; a=20 couple of us rode for a morning, but there are trails and=20 five-night safaris. At almost 2 500 metres the wind is=20 sweet (the sunburn lethal), with no sound except the horses=20 and maybe a flushed bird, scarcely any tracks, no other=20 humans. Only zebra, a solitary roan or eland, a bunch of=20 skittery reedbuck, or an adorably Disney-ish klipspringer,=20 to raise their heads and watch us out of sight.
Nyika is special. Its 3 000-plus square kilometres offer=20 poor grazing so game is never abundant (there were other=20 treasures, like a group of breeding wattled cranes), but=20 its patches of precious ancient forest, with endemic birds=20 and epiphytic creepers hundreds of years old, its streams,=20 its birdsong, its flowers, the wide skies and bitter nights=20 of its vast moorlands — these make it one of the great=20 parks of Africa.
African countries are big, and their landscapes can unroll=20 for thousands of unchanging miles, but little Malawi=20 sparkles with quickly accessible variety — beaches and=20 islands, lush highlands and riverine plains, tropical sun=20 and frosty nights, emptiness and bustle. May its freshness=20 survive the tourists it needs and deserves. I should have=20 known better: next time I’ll buy the corn cobs.
Gordimer: Separating the good from the apolitical=20
Paul Martin=20 CANNES is a glamorous place, and glamour is not something=20 that sits easily with Nadine Gordimer’s self-image. She was=20 wary of a request for a photograph of her on her top-floor=20 Hotel Majestic balcony overlooking the azure Mediterranean,=20 though she did allow two. “People back home may get the=20 wrong impression,” she worried.=20
The right impression, folks, is as follows: Gordimer worked=20 very hard indeed, judging 23 films in her capacity as vice- president of the jury, and no, she was not swanning about=20 with superstars. “It’s a pity that we’re not able to meet=20 the great actors and directors. But it would be wrong to be=20 seen in their company if we’re judging their films,” she=20 properly pointed out.=20
To her credit, Gordimer has never been particularly=20 interested in gratuitous socialising — last year, for=20 instance, she declined an invitation to tea, just before=20 Nelson Mandela’s inauguration as president, with the wife=20 of the United Nations secretary general.=20
Yet, despite her formidable work ethic, one got the=20 distinct impression that she was actually rather enjoying=20 it all. She found the members of the jury stimulating.=20 “People may have expected me to clash somewhat on the jury=20 with (Serial Mom director) John Waters, but we got on=20 tremendously well,” she noted. =20
“We’re very different personalities, yet we have one thing=20 in common: we like to push right to the edge … even if=20 our edges are different,” she somewhat opaquely expanded.=20
Just what, I ventured to ask, qualified Gordimer, with her=20 Nobel Prize for Literature, to be an arbiter of films? She=20 bristled slightly. “It’s the writing of the screenplay that=20 really sets apart the great films from the good,” she=20 stated. “In fact, my jury colleagues believe that most=20 films are getting better and better visually, so the=20 dialogue is really the distinguishing feature. That’s where=20 I come in.”=20
In any case, Gordimer is no stranger to the movie world:=20 she wrote the screenplays for three of the seven short=20 films of her works that were made on shoestring budgets in=20 the late 1970s.=20
The jury’s preferences were, at the time we spoke, top- secret. But it wasn’t hard to tell from her approach that=20 the winning film — Yugoslav director Emir Kustorica’s=20 Underground — met her criteria. =20
“I want a film, just like any good book, to be set in a=20 social and political milieu. If the human and the political=20 aspects are not related, then the film is a failure. How=20 can a story be devoid of politics? Where would it take=20 place — in the clouds? In the end, stories without depth=20 are forgotten.”=20
Kustorica’s setting of his film in war-torn Yugoslavia=20 mirrors Gordimer’s own themes, perhaps having some=20 resonance with her Six Feet in the Country. This was made=20 into a low-budget film, which the late Chris Davis brought=20 to Cannes many years back …=20
South African products, despite the huge political=20 upheaval, she lamented, were noticeably absent — apart=20 from Souleymane Cisse’s outdated and crass Waati, about=20 which Gordimer wisely declined to comment.=20
“I’m not privy to whether other South African films were=20 submitted but didn’t make it to the last 23,” she said.=20 “But I’ve been actively promoting South Africa’s film=20 industry.” She had, for example, alerted a top Indian=20 producer to the wealth of themes about the South African=20 “Asian” communities, reflected in works already extant in=20 South Africa.=20
“Many international filmmakers are seeing South Africa as=20 just a place to make their motion pictures. But what they=20 don’t realise is that they don’t need to bring their own=20 crews and their own actors to South Africa. We have superb=20 black actors, good enough technicians, such talent. And=20 good writers.”=20
It “deeply disturbs me”, the Nobel Prizewinner commented,=20 “when black Americans play the roles of black South=20 Africans”. She would be outraged should an American be cast=20 in the role of Nelson Mandela in any film of his life.=20
Gordimer believes there is a plethora of wonderful material=20 for future South African films (and books). “People’s=20 experiences in the new South African realities, facing up=20 to changes personally and politically — that really is the=20 subject matter we will be tackling,” she asserted.=20
Of her books, she would be most keen for The=20 Conservationist to be made into a feature film. In the=20 story, she pointed out, a black man buried by a white=20 farmer is unearthed after a flash-flood. “It’s my most=20 lyrical, and perhaps my most difficult work,” she mused.=20 “It’ll need somebody very special to do it. The central=20 issue in South Africa is the land, and this book deals with=20 who owns what.”=20
Will South Africa’s Nobel laureate incorporate the Cannes=20 experience into her future work in print or on celluloid?=20 On that, as the cliche goes, the jury is still out.=20