Flying into Malawi is like stepping back in time. Never mind the SAL/SAA logo imprinted on the kitchen cupboards of the Air Malawi plane; the size of the airport seen from the air made me feel like a colonial traveller sans pith helmet.
The Chileka airport in Blantyre, admittedly not the capital and therefore not the capital airport, would fit into the international arrivals hall at Johannesburg International. And there the comparison ends.
The dirt-covered roads leading into the city centre are lined with houses piled almost on top of each other. Owing to the topo- graphy of the area, houses are built on three different levels. This gives one the disconcerting impression that the viewer is skew, not the houses.
Closest to the road you see barbers, telephone bureaus and houses the size of a single garage without any space in between them. One grey, shabby, wooden construction had a goat tied up outside it. Another was built on the edge of a sheer cliff, giving the impression that it had grown there.
In the streets, little children in rags run up to you, hands outstretched, shouting in Chichewa — the local language. The message is the same the world over and it’s even more heartbreaking in a country suffering from an acute shortage of food, no rain and a lack of employment.
I was told by a Malawian journalist that half the country lives below the poverty line. Aids is a huge problem there. Many people can’t afford to buy condoms, which come in packs of three for five kwatcha (less than 50c).
Curio traders were exceptionally excited to see a South African, they thought that they had hit gold. One rand will get you 15 kwatcha and the cheapest 300ml Coke I bought cost 20 kwatcha.
The Alendo hotel, home for the six days I was in Malawi, is a training centre run by the Malawi Institute of Tourism. The breakfast provided by the restaurant was the same daily. The waiter would monotone it in the same breathless sentence each morning, “eggs scrambled, poached or fried, pork or beef sausages, baked beans fried tomatoes and fried potatoes”.
Hot water and I had a bit of an issue; I didn’t have any for four days. This was not a problem though, in light of the climate, which was hot and humid. I had no idea what the temperature actually was — the only TV stations I could find in the hotel randomly swapped with each other during the night. If you switched the TV off on BBC, sport from our own DStv would take its place the next day. I gave up trying after two nights.
Would I go back? Without hesitation. Malawians are helpful, friendly and charming. I met a plethora of amazing people, did many new things — it was an eye-opening experience.
I would take a few extra precautions the next time round and I would take time out to visit Lake Malawi. And beware, if it doesn’t come out of a tap, don’t drink it even if it has been boiled and is cleverly masquerading as tea, and take mosquito candles. Mozzies are louder in Blantyre.
The trip to Malawi was courtesy of the Commonwealth Press Union, which sponsored a reporting course on HIV/Aids
The lowdown
Get to Malawi by air on either Air Malawi or South African Airways — the bus trip takes two full days.
While the Alendo hotel was chosen for its reasonable pricing, the Protea chain also has a renovated hotel in Blantyre.
Most South Africans take packages to Lake Malawi at resorts, such as Club Makokola.
Ask your local Asata-registered travel agent for more details on this interesting country or visit www.tourismmalawi.com