Mulanje Massif

Mulanje Massif! What a place to be,
From the top you can catch a view of the salty sea.
Trudging up the path with bags aplenty,
We’d often sit down and eat sandwiches a’ many.
The porter and guide helped us carry our load.
We needed it to climb that steep road.
Up and down the mountain went,
All part of this peculiar Peace Corps experiment.

That is my ode to the tallest mountain in Malawi, Mount Mulanje. It stands alone in clear contrast to the plains of Southern Malawi. At its base, the monolith is 13x16 miles in dimension and is mainly covered on top by an alpine ecosystem. The highest peak, which we surmounted, is about 10,000 feet tall. I climbed the mountain with my friends Jackie, Bri, Amy, Colin, and Tomas. This is our story.

Colin, Tomas, and I set off early on the morning Camp Sky ended. We were fortunate to be able to chaperone campers in a pre-arranged mini bus to Lilongwe, or so we thought. The kids with us had to go very far and suddenly our driver decided that his payment wasn’t enough. He slowed down grumbling about his fee and then pulled over. All these kids needed to get a good strong jump on the day to make it home by sundown and this jerk started threatening not to go another inch unless we cough up some more shekels. The three of us “counselors” started to get very agitated and began considering all the possible scenarios: take the kids down to Lilongwe in groups on public transport, lie that we’d pay more, and of course the most logical choice was to kill the sleazy driver and hijack the bus (my favorite solution). Luckily, before we acted, we had the forethought to call our Camp Commander. She bitched the driver out something vicious and he pouted all the way to our destination.

From Lilongwe, the three of us had a pleasant ride with a wealthy Malawian all the way to Blantyre. Blantyre is the commercial capital of Malawi and it is much more city-like than Lilongwe. There are sidewalks, high-rise buildings, and even a movie theater! There we met up with Jackie, Amy, and Bri at our classy hotel. (To give you an idea of how stylish the hotel was, the room could be rented by the hour). It was elating to see some of the far-flung Southern volunteers; we chatted about our mutual frustrations, individual accomplishments, and told lewd jokes. After a delicious pizza and ice cream with caramel dinner, we went out and hit the club.

There are two Chez Ntembas in Malawi, one in Lilongwe and the other in Blantyre. They are both covered in floor to ceiling mirrors with young, self-absorbed Malawians checking themselves out. The Malawian’s Narcisism is a spectacle in itself but the publicly acceptable homoerotic behavior in a decidedly homophobic nation put it over the top. I saw one Malawian man bent over grinding on another and nobody batted an eye. But that particular evening there was an added curiosity, a gigantic Indian from South Africa who took a liking to me.

At first I was thinking, “Who is this guy? He is huge!” He seemed to be there alone and when he looked at me, I decided smiling cordially was the best course of action. He took this as an invitation to start talking my ear off. We had a chat; he told me that he was an interior decorator and worked for the National Bank as a floor manager at a huge building, which we could see just outside the club. I thought this was an outlandish story, but didn’t perceive him to be a threat.

He ended up sort of dancing in our circle of friends. My PCV friends were initially leery of him, but they ended up chatting together. The real kicker was when I was dancing with my back to him and when I turned back he was swinging his t-shirt one handed over his head. Our circle instantly moved a good two meters away and he was asked to put his shirt back on. Which, thankfully, he cooperatively did. Good times out on the town in Blantyre, Malawi.

Our next move out to Mulanje District was an hour and a half mini-bus away. Mulanje is really a pleasant place; the mountain is awe-inspiring and weather conducive to emerald tea plantations. Amy played host and treated us to turkey, the only catch was we had to butcher it. The process, which Tomas and I handled, wasn’t tidy. However the end product was cooked well and tasty.

We rose early to meet our guide and porter, Gift and Jackson, for the epic ascent. They were very strong and consumed little food or water. While our group was out of shape, sweated profusely, and breathed heavily the whole way. Though this physical hardship didn’t diminish our enjoyment of the surrounding environment. We started out amongst verdant tealeaves, bunches of bananas, and prickly pineapples below the clouds. Slowly we passed through the mist to reach the dry grass of the alpine plateau. It reminded me of how much I enjoy the tenacious flora of high altitude habitats and of early backpacking adventures in the Olympic National Forest, Washington.

In total we spent four days hiking around and three nights sleeping on top of the mountain. All of the cabins we slept in were nice and cozy: The first had an intoxicating Mulanje Cedar scent, the second had a great view of the flat land below, and the third had weak solar powered lights. However, none of the buildings did a particularly good job of keeping us warm so we had lots of snuggle parties. Unfortunately, I became seriously congested and snored a lot. My most sincere apologies to those of you who were there. But we had a good time climbing to the highest peak, which was very cold, and making jokes.

We came up with all sorts of silly jokes. There was a running joke about Colin starting a goat etiquette school to teach an imaginary goat named Scarlet to be a debutante and drink tea. Absurd stories about all the members of our PC Environment 2010 group were made up to confuse the next intake of volunteers. Three of us also ripped our pants on the mountain. I ended up with a rip that went from my hip to my knee and walked all the way down the mountain with my underwear exposed. And everyone was very flatulent which provided lots of disgusting yet humorous moments. Being caught in a narrow space between rocks when someone farts is horrible for you, but funny for others.
Upon descending the mountain, we made a dash to pick up stuff from Amy’s house and get back to Blantyre. This was extremely fun because all six of us took bike taxis. The spectacle of six white people with huge backpacks strapped on riding through a rural Malawian village was quite hilarious. I’d already discussed the possibility of a bike taxi race at Camp Sky. But at the time no one wanted to participate because they felt it was degrading to treat Malawian bike taxi drivers like racehorses. In the end, we had a race anyway!

To round out the trip south we went to the only movie theater in the entire country and watched Youth In Revolt. Of course, we’d timed our trip to coincide with the half off Wednesday tickets and the rest of our behavior was a classic demonstration of PC poverty. Before the movie, we went to the grocery store next door, bought food, and then hid it in our pants and bags. Inside the atrium, we gawked as local expatriates gathered and bought popcorn from the confectionery while we cringed at the prices. Peace Corps volunteers are very different from expatriates; from our lifestyle to the nature of our work in country, we are just two dissimilar animals. Point in case was when all the other members of the audience got in their cars to go home and we started waving our hands to hitch a ride. All part of the Peace Corps odyssey, I suppose.

Overall, my first trip to the south was very enjoyable. Good friends, good food, and just good times for all. I’m safe, healthy, and optimistic about the future. Love to all my family and friends abroad, stay safe.