Where to?

Transport within Malawi is quite an adventure. You basically have four options: 1) Large coach buses, 2) Mini bus, 3) Matola, 4) Hitch. All seem like doable options; of course I’m assuming you say except the hitching.

Large buses are a pain in the rear. They are typically over crowded, make lots of stops at police check points, and rarely have enough seats for everyone who as purchased a ticket. My first experience with taking one was heading up the M5 Lakeshore road to a friend’s site close to Nkhata Bay. Let’s just say I’ll never again take a coach if I can help it. It’s a “fight for your space” situation which doesn’t work well for me. Although, you do learn pretty quick that if you don’t sit down in the seat before agogo (grandma/grandpa) then you’ll be the laughing stock, to yourself mostly. That, or else you’ll be standing for the 5 hour bus ride.

I managed to win musical chairs about an hour into the ride, for which I was extremely grateful. I’ll be honest to say that when it comes to public transport I’m already in a crummy mood because there is so much you have to deal with. So when a group of 5 boys in the isle next to my seat kept putting their hands in my face I went American on them: told them to knock it off. But you learn pretty quickly to simply accept the cramped situations or else it’s going to feel like an even longer ride. I finally arrived…9 hours after having left my house that morning. You wouldn’t believe how good a cold shower felt!

Mini buses. I don’t take them if I don’t have to. Short distances are fine, such as around the city or to the boma for stock up on food. These buses are the rejects from Asia, occasionally decked out in foreign characters and often in marginal shape. Now, when you hear that this is the most common mode of transport for Malawians you’d think they would be up to snuff. Wrong. They often have broken seats, mismatched or bare tires, broken doors, no seat belts…name it, and it’s got it. As if those aren’t reason enough to try and avoid them, the drivers have been known to drink which has resulted in hundreds of accidents around the country, commonly killing majority of passengers. Even worse they will pack as many people as possible simply so they can make some more money. I’ve counted at least 28 in one bus thus far (not including babies, chickens, or goats). Just when you think no one else can squeeze, they manage to find space.

They aren’t all that bad when going short distances, however since their predictability is commonly unknown I wait to pay when we arrive. To make it fun (mostly to keep myself sane in the rides) I figure if I can get everyone laughing or smiling on the bus then it will be fun. This is usually achieved by greeting everyone in Chichewa and they think it’s the funniest thing that an azungu speaks their language. The kids are a little tougher, but if you greet them with “Bo bo!” (simple slang) then they usually perk up…or cry. One time I was doing some silly dance as I got on the bus and a couple minutes later I was offered 20 kwacha by a guy to dance with him. It’s even funnier that kids here will say “Give me my money!” (yes, they say “my” not “your”) and yet I was given money for doing some silly chicken dance.

Matola’s are quite a ride, no pun intended of course. Essentially it’s like riding in the back of a truck bed, but sometimes similar to a flat bed. I’ve done some traveling up in the Northern region and matola’s are some of the only transport you can get. Typically they pack people’s goods towards the back and strap it in. It’s another situation where the conductors will pack in as many people as possible. If you’re lucky (or unlucky, depending certain factors) you’ll get a seat (read: a spot to pretzel yourself into). Women prefer to “sit” since most of them have children, while men usually stand. It still blows my mind how decently behaved the children can be while not crawling out of the matola. The trick is to get to a relatively empty matola and steak out your seat while it fills up. This is a time not to be nice or generous by moving to accommodate other people. You have to fight for your space!

The most fun I have had on a matola was going from Karonga to Chitipa. All the PCVs in the north have talked up that 4+ hour ride in the back of a truck, under the sun, with dust everywhere (the road isn’t paved yet). So while doing some site visits this last week and going that way, I figured now was the time to see how long I’d be able to handle it. Fortunately I got there early and camped out right behind the cab and sitting on top of my backpack. It quickly filled up and I had lost my leg space to three men and had a guy standing to my left on the rail of the truck the whole ride. My comfort “bubble” was quickly popped and my solution was to put on some music to keep myself chilled out while looking at the changing scenery. As usual, it didn’t take long to get a conversation going with someone and before I knew it everyone was laughing with me (or at me, I never know) while speaking Chichewa. Despite being covered in dust and dehydrated, I can safely say it was my most fun public transport experience yet.

This leaves us to the last option, but my favorite option. Hitching. The standard for getting a hitch is standing at the side of the road and waving your arm frantically. I’ve had to wait up to an hour for a hitch but have been picked up in less than 5 minutes so the trade of is pretty good. The condition of hitches are hands down better than mini buses. Typically the people who stop are well educated Malawians with nice cars which are in good shape. Occasionally I’ll get a free coke or maybe African cake (delicious muffin) and good conversation. The other side of "occasionally" rests on awkward/creepy men who just want a phone number and sometimes sneak in a marriage proposal.

The best hitch I’ve had yet was with a guy from Blantyre going up north to Mzuzu. Justine and I had met him on the way to a clothes market the previous week when he picked us up. He mentioned he was going north and I changed my travel plans to ride with him. Getting from my site to Mzuzu is safely a 2 day, 1 night travel and so this offer was one I couldn’t turn down. Especially when it’s a “bwana” (rich) ride there are usually perks. The ride included air conditioning (a luxury!), all the new dance hits back home, sandwiches, beers, two stops along the way including Kande Beach and Nkhata Bay, and dinner at the Sunbird Mzuzu which was a T-bone steak with mashed potatoes and apple pie with cream for desert (you’d better believe I ate it all!). He easily spent my monthly income on the entire day. Aaaand that’s the point in which it got creepy and a seemingly gentleman turned into a sleaze. How do you sleep at night with a family back home and hitting on women the age of your daughter? Goes to show they exist everywhere. But I can’t complain about that steak :)

Hitching also crosses into the realm of hopping into the back of pickups. I’ll be honest to say this is nothing I would ever do in the states. But there is an element of excitement and freedom when you’re riding in the back of a truck. You get to appreciate so much more of the scenery opposed to seeing it all from the inside of a car.

All in all, travel in Malawi can be an awesome adventure. It is such a treat to have fun conversations with people, even if it’s half in English and Chichewa with universal charades thrown in to distinguish any confusion. Knowing the language can go far with people here, as not all white people who visit Malawi will take the time to learn how to converse. Goals for my days are trying to make people laugh, and if I have done so then I feel accomplished. Everything I do is a cultural exchange and some of the best places for those are enroute to any desired destination. My experience here would not be the same without coaches, mini buses, matola's, or hitches. Especially when connections you make result in a delicious desert of apple pie :)

New buddies.  Rode in that same position for 3.5 hours!

(Karonga to Chitpa)

A little snug :) looking out of the matola.

(Karonga to Chitipa)

Back of a trailer...I always wanted to ride in one!

(Chitipa to Kapoka)

Back of a pickup, at least kept the dust down

(Kapoka to Karonga)

*pant* Hot *sigh* Season

I love Malawi. I really do. But hot season? Man alive, this is another beast entirely! I was absent from Bwanje for about four weeks of travel, training, and the Game Count in Liwonde National Park. Upon my arrival back home I was immediately (whether I wanted to be or not) enlightened that indeed, hot season had arrived.

If I’ve learned anything yet about Peace Corps and living in Africa is that you essentially throw everything including expectations, schedules, and routines out the window. Previously I understood this as simply being the people and how they are accustomed to living their lives daily. But pretty quickly now I have realized that all these things can, and do, revolve around the seasons. I remember before coming to Peace Corps I was excited to be on “Mother Earth’s time.” Be careful what you wish for.

Hot season is more than I expected, that’s for sure. I remember first arriving to site, which was before cold season, and I thought “sheesh, this is warm!” and was promptly laughed at by other volunteers who had already experienced the hot season. Mind you I’m from Colorado which I can safely say has a weather pattern like heaven and no place on earth can beat. I miss the downpour of rain to cool off a hot day followed by the sun beautifully shining over the Rocky Mountains. But on the flip side, Colorado doesn’t have the African sunrise :)

At any rate, this moves me to inform all of you about my new routine, which is never consistent but at least helps me feel like I have some sort of structure to my day. Check out one of my blogs back in May or June talking about my routine and see how it’s changed. So let’s just throw it out there, if you haven’t gotten the point yet….IT IS HOT! The only time it is a little cooled off is from the early morning hours up until about 6 or 7 when it begins warming up. Everyone is up early, 4-5am to go work the fields before it gets too warm. Same applies for house chores and any extraneous activities.

My day usually begins around 5-5.30 after the rooster has woken me. I habitually sweep the house free of the previous day’s dirt and dead bugs. It’s always a delight to see how many cockroaches and crickets that didn’t find enough food to sustain them through the night are swept out the front door. It’s quite exciting when I remember having smashed a bug before having gone to bed to wake up and find it’s magically disappeared :) or been eaten, however serious you’re feeling at the time.

Water is always a must to have around. I’m finding I go through drinking water at least twice as fast as I did during the cold season. So I grab one of my 20 liter buckets and head to the well in my backyard. The tin bucket includes at least three different kinds of rope attached to it, which I’ve realized quick was done so it could reach further down into the well. Not only that, a meter long piece of wood was added to the end to give it a little bit more stretch. As I watch the bucket speed down the well I make sure to pay attention to the piece of wood so I don’t loose the whole thing and end up having to call an Iwe (informal “you” or simply what we call kids) to be lowered down to fish it out. I’m slightly tempted to try it just to see what happens. So far I’m 100% success :) When I feel a gentle tug, I crank that bucket out, pour it into my plastic bucket, and do it again to fill the 20 liters. Throw the sheet of tin over the top of the well and bucket on top, and then lift the 20 liters to my head. Yeah, you’d better believe I’m Malawian! I can carry it with a hand supporting the swaying motion of the water but I have a year and a half to perfect the “look ma, no hands!” routine.

I’ve realized quickly that hot season pretty much kills your appetite for food. If it doesn’t, then you’ll be feeling quite sorry after you stuffed your tummy full of rice and beans! My traditional breakfast of bananas and peanut butter has changed pretty quickly to mangos, seeing as it is that time of year. Let me tell you, WOW! Fresh mangos from the tree or in the market for 5 kwacha are absolutely unbelievable. I peel it straight from the source with a knife and cut chunks off to eat. It’s one of those times you give yourself permission to lick your hands :) I listen to Voice of America while I’m munching, if I can tune it in for the day, and get up to date on the tragedies happening around the world. Then I gladly turn it off and mentally return to my happy life here where people celebrate positive things daily.

By this time it’s about 8am, if I’m lucky. One big shift is that hot season requires an adjustment for scheduled meetings. Therefore 8-9am is good for a one hour meeting. By 10am it’s so hot to be out and about that most Malawians, myself included ;) are sleeping on a reed mat at their house or sitting under a shaded mango tree and pigging out until they can’t move. For me it’s swinging in my hammock, and pigging out until I can’t move. This, my friends, is my #1 prized possession during this time of year. Seeing as it gets up to 100F in my house during the day (who invented tin roofs in Africa anyways?!) extensive time inside is just not doable. But swinging and napping in the hammock is!! Makes me feel like I’m back on the beaches of Thailand, simply enjoying the breeze...even if it’s a hot one.

So 11-12 rolls around and it’s lunch time, if I’m hungry. I’ve become quite a pro and starting fires with a small piece of plastic, so that is no longer a hold up when making food. Instead now I hate sitting in front of hot coals, cooking hot food, when it’s already hot. Got me?! So far this season the tuna packets from my mom and accompanied mayo sachets from Jason, as well as protein bars, have been a life saver. They’re quick and light and I can eat them, well, not hot. Some days the only reason I cook is to feed the dogs, of which I’m supporting three now (Peter, my original pup, Chule and adopted puppy from the neighbors litter, and Jackson Chule’s dad, who has essentially adopted me since he’s caught on to the fact I’ll feed him).

Hot season has been brutal on them as well; they simply lie around and pant aaaaaall day. Makes me feel fortunate that I can take clothes off instead of having a heavy coat of fur! But when it cools off they come alive and are happy bouncing characters. They have quite a night life, let me tell ya!

After lunch I usually feel pretty bogged down from whatever I ate combined with chugging cups and cups of water to battle the dehydration. I recently purchased a village refrigerator (read: a clay pot that sweats making water “ice cold,” or so I try to convince myself). That thing is a life saver, let me tell ya! It chills off my homemade papaya wine, too, and with that you can’t go wrong. Anyways, by this time it’s usually calling for another swing in the hammock accompanied by a nap.

One day, early on in hot season, I made a big mistake of not changing the 2pm meeting time for one of my women’s sewing groups. For one, I’ve never sweat so much in my life doing anything. I was drenched. Two, no one showed up and I’d lie to say if I blamed them. Heck, I shouldn’t have even shown up to my own meeting, eesh! Lesson learned that 3pm or later is a better time for a meeting.

Following my afternoon meetings I arrive home around 4 or 5 sticky, stinky, dirty, and usually still sweating from being out and about. But this is a great time of day because it has cooled off just enough to be tolerable. Also, I get to enjoy my new shower :) Best invention set up I’ve had at my house yet. I follow my morning routine of fetching water but instead of putting it in the back room of my house I lift it to the plank of wood above my bafa area.

Once I’ve washed off and scrubbed the dirt from my day, I hang out in a chitenje until the sun goes down. This time of year you will find women constantly wearing just a chitenje because it is so hot! Much easier than clothes, anyways. And as I’ve told you I’m Malawian now so I just do as they do :) Instead of drying myself off completely I allow the water to evaporate, giving me a few more minutes of cooling before I become slightly sweaty and sticky again from the heat.

If I have any leftovers from lunch, or if I’m even hungry, I’ll munch on those. I’ve learned quickly that, unlike cold season, leftovers just don’t last until morning. Whatever is not eaten today becomes a bonus dog treat for Peter. Before the sun has completely set, I grab a book and head back to the hammock for a few swings of relaxation. I almost dread sleeping in the house as it’s usually still in the upper 90s by bed time, which is now around 6-6.30.

I reluctantly shut the doors, since it cuts off the breeze through the house, and kick the dogs out so they can have their evening rendezvous with buddies. I crawl under my mosquito net and lay down carefully ensuring no part of my body is unnecessarily resting on another. My bed and sheets are simply radiating heat that has been held from the day, which combined with the heat from my body is less than desirable. The fewer articles of clothing the better, I’ve realized quick. The beauty of living alone :) I usually begin sweating uncontrollably again but revel in the cool breeze that occasionally comes through my window. I don’t read any more at night while in bed because it’s just too darn hot!

Around 2-3am I’m awoken by a slight chill and throw a chitenje over myself for the remaining two hours of sleep, which are my favorite I can easily say. I can remember back to cold season when I had to wear long pants, t-shirt, sweatshirt, and sometimes socks in order to be comfortable while sleeping. Ohhhhh, the days.

It’s definitely quite a shift having my day revolve around the weather. We as Americans are used to doing things when we want to, regardless of the hour, season, month, or year. But here in Malawi where we cannot escape the heat, we must be sensitive to the hottest times of the days and do our best to stay out of the sun and fully hydrated. I’m getting used to it pretty quick, which by no means indicates that I enjoy it. But it is life here and you simply don’t have a choice. It’s similar to having to start a fire to cook: you can do it or not, it’s your choice, but there are consequences! It’s a bit of a challenge to stay sane through the heat but I’m excited in the fact that come December (hopefully!) the rains will be around and it will have cooled off. Although I’m fully aware that my daily routine will change again with the mud, but we’ll tackle that one when it arrives. In the mean time, happy detox :)

Justine showing how the hammock is done,

while enjoying papaya lemongrass wine.

(Outside my house in Bwanje, Malawi 10/10)

Peter doing his best to escape the heat.  He actually sleeps like that.

What a gentleman.

(My hosue in Bwanje, Malawi 10/10)

I'm cleaner than you!

I’ll be honest to say there are not many things from home that I miss. Malawi has become my home and all the good and bad along with it is simply life. Sure there are times where I have a burning desire for sushi but it passes pretty quickly knowing that there is no way that I’ll be getting it any time soon. Same goes for grocery store cupcakes… I can safely say the one thing I miss most is a shower.

One of my favorite parts of going to Lilongwe isn’t necessarily the 24/7 electricity (err, when the power doesn’t go out) or the pizza joint across the street from Mufasa’s Lodge. No no, it’s a shower. It’s feeling squeaky clean, as if every fold of skin between your toes has been soaked long enough to dislodge the weeks of walking around barefoot. Or it’s noticing that the water washing down the drain isn’t expected clear water but rather a slight tint of brown...and the shock of realizing that “yep, that’s how dirty I am.” It’s not that I don’t wash at site. In fact, I bafa every day (being hot season you have to...if you don’t then, well, that’s just nasty) and scrub as best as possible. But nothing beats a shower.

Upon my return from my four weeks of travel I decided it was it’s time to take this shower making business seriously. Growing up, I admired watching my dad in the garage as he would tinker with things. Sometimes I would ask what he was doing, other times I would just watch. I was fascinated how he would come up with a new system of fixing something simply by what he had at his disposal. I admired that quality of him and, ha, secretly hoped that a future spouse would posses the same ability. Anyways, remember those times I thought to myself “there is no way I shouldn’t be able to figure out having a shower here!”

By now you all know I don’t have running water (if that’s a shock to you then you’ve missed reading a lot of my blogs...chop chop!) so obviously hooking up some sort of pipe was definitely not an option. Next I thought “my bafa is out doors with no roof so I could rig something up there.” I was trying to be as simplistic as possible. I’d heard of other volunteers hooking up some sort of tubing system that connects to a bucket and a shower head (read: head from a tin watering can)...or something to that extent.

First I went to my carpenter friend, who has built all but one piece of furniture in my house. “You are my customer” he tells me, and thus always gives me a good price on things he builds. So I explained to him how I wanted to make a shower and I needed a 120cm long board. He laughed, most likely thinking “crazy azungu, how are you going to make a shower?!” I told him I just needed the board and I’d show him! The next day I picked it up and strapped it to the back of my bike and drove home. Oh boy was I excited!!

I had determined the perfect bucket to use was one with a hand spout at the bottom. When you think about it you simply turn the handle and water comes out, right? Well my doubt was whether or not the water would come out fast enough to really simulate a shower. There is only one way to find out. After retrieving my bucket full of water I transferred it from my head to the board, fortunately the same level height. Now was the moment of truth.

I turned the knob and the water came dripping out. I turned it further and it came out in a steady stream. Holy cow, had I just done it?! Had I just created a village shower?! The simplest one, I dare say. If I recall correctly I began laughing, most likely confusing the heck out of my neighbors who already think I’m nuts for half the things I do. I was also laughing knowing that I had one upped my site mate, Justine, with the new luxury at my house. She has electricity, but I have a shower.

Really, the only reason I wanted a shower was to make my site more appealing for other volunteers to site visit me. Ha, NOT! Just kidding :p But I know my parents are planning a visit at some point during my service. Now, I know that my parents enjoy traveling in style - running water (of course, but palibe!), hot shower, coffee in the morning, bacon and eggs if possible - you know, the basics. So now that I have a shower set up (yes, we can do a warm shower by putting the bucket in the sun for a few hours, HA!) I just have to work on the continental breakfast and fresh brewed coffee. I’ve got the baking of cakes down so we could do scones, but that bacon we’ll have to work on, sorry dad ;) At least be happy I have a shower, though, because I smell much better and am much cleaner than I have been in months :)

Game Count, Liwonde National Park

When I think of Africa I think of elephants. Giant creatures, which are rumored to be the only mammal that can’t jump but move with grace, trunks swaying and feeling for tasty treats. There is something about their nature that is extremely intriguing and has resulted in my being my favorite animal…next to bunnies, of course.

Ever since being a child I have wanted to see elephants. Okay, nix that...I wanted to ride one. I thought I would go to India, hop on the back of one, and have a grand adventure waving to people in the streets while wearing the colorful traditional wear. This was before realizing that there were two different kinds of elephants but even then it didn’t matter where it happened. I played my cards right and was able to spend a day with Asian elephants during a trip to Chiang Mai, Thailand. It was one of those days where I could imagine nothing better happening in my life...one of those days you think “I am completely content!”

At the beginning of my Peace Corps service I signed up for the yearly Game Count in Liwonde National Park. It is located south east of my site, Bwanje, and thus an easy day trip away. As days and weeks inched closer I became more and more excited, butterflies in my tummy in anticipation of laying eyes on “my” African elephant. Just prior to that I had IST (In Service Training) in Dedza which was good but hardly worth a blog ;)

The day came for travel to Liwonde for the weekend for my “job.” Ha, I love that I can have fun and call it work; you can’t get much better than that! After a seamless hitch straight to Ulongwe to meet free transport into the park, I relaxed while eating some eggs made at a local market…a manner in which my mother would be horrified, but it was absolutely delicious. We were then driven up to the Shire River while trying to keep our bearings over the pot holed road. I love these rides, actually, because it makes me feel like I’m on that Indian Jones ride at Disneyland. Just wait for more Disney references to come

Our group of 10+ loaded our bodies and belongings into a wooden boat preparing to cross the Shire River. Now, before you Lord of the Rings fans get too excited (okay, maybe I’m just talking to myself here…), it’s pronounced “Shiri.” At first I couldn’t believe I’d made it to the Shire River in Hobbiton :p Anyways, we were briefed by a guide to “keep all body parts inside the boat, as we all want to arrive safely to the other side” speech. Upon peering around I could see hippos in the water and possibly crocodiles, and realized quickly that he probably knew what he was doing.

All of us arrived safely and I managed to keep my fingers and toes inside the boat, despite a burning desire to test the water to really see if the crocs were out. I figured my run in with the mamba was enough excitement for my service…at this point. When we were lead to the area we were camping I immediately eyed the warthogs. Remember Pumba from The Lion King? Well, I’ll tell you, Disney has it spot on. I half expected one of them to stand up, call over Timon, and start belting out Hakuna Matata. They even crouch to their knees when grazing which is absolutely funny.

Shortly after rigging up my tent a group of us spotted some animals that began coming out of the forested area. Feeling like trackers, we quietly and quickly crept closer to where they were but kept a safe distance. Amongst the sable, impala, and warthogs beheld the elephants. My elephants. The mysteriously beautiful creatures I’ve admired since being a child, I was looking straight at them. I assure you I had a permanent grin on my face. With borrowed binoculars I peered out and admired what I was seeing. I’d made it! To Africa, no less, but to see the animals I, for so long have admired

At one point I sat crouched under a tree atop a dirt mound. I’d brought along a container of home brewed papaya wine and sipped while I looked on. In that moment I felt at peace. A moment I had waited all my life until now had arrived and I could do nothing else than sit in the excitement of watching them graze. I could even hear the ripping of the trees as I saw them pull food off the branches. In this moment I could die happy.

And with that I may have spoken too soon. I absentmindedly chose a spot for my tent that was away from the buildings and cooking area. By day we watched as warthogs bathed in the small mud holes, and by night I listened as elephants grazed off of the acacia tree no more than 15 meters from my tent. A fellow PCV came in my tent during the first night horrified that we would be trampled by the elephants. My response? “Move, I want to see them!”

The following two days we were split into small groups with scouts to perform our transect walks, counting animals and recording them as we walked. Day 1 was a 12k trek during which I was grateful to have really good hiking boots (but cursed the rats that managed to find their way to them and chew out parts of the soles). We saw dozens of warthogs and impala but no rhinos or elephants. Palibe vuto, since the previous day I was able to see the elephants.

When we were leaving camp for our Day 2 walk, the elephants were just outside the compound enjoying their breakfast. They were so close and happened to have a striking resemblance to the elephants found on the safari ride at Disneyland (I’m telling you, they know how to do it!). Once we jumped out of the truck for our shorter 5k walk we spotted a water buffalo not too far off. We stopped for our photo op, of course, but were quickly rushed along by the scout since we were receiving a proper stare-down from the beast.

No rhinos on this trip but we were stopped by a herd of elephants and had to take a 30+ minute detour so that we could go around them. It was a successful trek and a pleasure that it was significantly shorter than the one before (being that it’s hot season it heats up by 8am and, well, you just don’t want to be exerting yourself much later than that).

I could have stayed in the park for much longer, but alas my work in Bwanje called me back. I was yearning to see my three “boys” and get back to the simplicity of village life. But the whole weekend got me excited to begin a Wildlife Club with the students at Kalikhoka, the private secondary school in Bwanje. It also got me contemplating the possibility of signing on for a third year with Peace Corps. I would love to do work with animals and might have the possibility of doing rhino tracking and research if it worked out. But I do have to continually remind myself that I have to sanely complete my two year commitment to Peace Corps. Who knows, by then I may be yearning for a fresh plate of sushi and cupcakes. Knowing it is an option and possibly an opportunity keeps me excited for the work I’m doing now. But until then I’ll teach the students about the animals here in Malawi while organizing a trip to visit Liwonde next year. Until then, my dogs will have to be my wild animals.

Indiana Jones ride!

I'm having trouble uploading more photos to my blog page here, so visit my facebook photos to see some more of Liwonde.