Day 23: BAfrica Blues

Day 23: Sunday 9th September

Andrew Dennis 

Cue Cold War Kids – Hospital Beds

The inaugural Bond in Africa group has experienced its fair share of health scares over the past three weeks. Be it the impending malaria, a broken wrist, a scorpion bite or the inevitable bilharzia diagnosis that awaits those brave enough to plunge into Lake Malawi. Today, however, we have been dealt with the worst ailment of all . . . the post BAfrican blues.

It hit some of us earlier than others and I suspect the symptoms are still yet to show for some. It begins with a strong pain in the gut, a loss of appetite and then it spreads to your head. Questions brew like a violent storm.

What will I do now?

How can I go back?

Who will understand why I laugh when I hear the number 25 or hear someone ask for a desert menu? The longing to be around those who shared in the experience becomes intense and everything that was once familiar becomes irritating and unnatural.

Reflection and action are the wonder drugs that when consumed simultaneously can help fight the painful blues. Take the time to think back on our achievements over the past 3 weeks, and do something with these memories; write about them, share them, laugh about them, make a photo book, movie, song about them.

We have achieved so much:

- We have transformed ten dilapidated primary school rooms into classrooms that will allow the 70 students who cram into each one to let their imaginations run wild.  

- We have pulled and pushed each other to concur Mt Mulanje, Africa’s 3^rd largest mountain the same mountain that crafted the 3,002m backdrop to our incredible mountain home.

- We have set in motion two incredibly important projects that will see the extension and renovation of the Mulanje Mission Hospital operating theatre and wider promotion of the endearing creations of the Tikondane Aids support group.

- We have had the opportunity to work alongside some truly inspiring members of the Mulanje Mission to create a partnership that we all hope is the beginning of something truly special for both the mission itself and Bond University community.

All of these achievements can be measured with photos, reports and for some the paint that will not wash away. What cannot be measured is the personal development that each and every one of us has undergone. We learnt to deal with cold showers, drop toilets, group decisions, thieving street children, African time, chicken for dinner, police fines, dad jokes, people not quick with their number, no access to tea plantations, no access to Mozambique, bad biscuits, South African airlines, petrol stops, faulty hammers, minimal wifi and of course the Dutch. With each difficulty encountered on this trip we stepped up as a group and tackled it head on, usually in song. (GAYYYYYYYYYY – Señor Chang).

On our final bus ride from Brisbane to the Gold Coast I began making notes for this blog and asked everyone for some facts and figures about the trip. Between the “bottles of hand sanitiser used: 114” and “Kilometers traveled: 30,000” there was one common, and somewhat clichéd, response “New friendships made: 24”.  We have all been extremely thankful for the group that put together for the inaugural BAfrica expedition. I recall on day 9 the observation was made: “Isn’t it unusual how you can be genuinely proud of group of people that you now call your friends after only knowing most of them for only a week?” Although their have been a number of tense times on the expedition we have returned as close friends with strong admiration for one another.

From our friends and families we ask for patients, our experiences over the past three weeks have been incredible and we promise the stories will eventually flow into our conversations with you all. The hyper era that we have just experienced is full of stories we cannot wait to share, friendships we cannot wait to prosper and moments we can’t wait to reminisce.

As we all step into the shower tonight and attempt to wash the paint from our hair, the smell from our feet and the soil from our faces, what we wont be able to wash away are the marks that Africa and the inaugural BAfrica group have left on us and for this I am happy.

Sleep well my African friends I look forward to seeing you again soon.

Day 22: Homeward Bound

Day 22: Saturday 8th September

Remi Hill

Today, at four am, the Bond in Africa family arose to their final breakfast at a ridiculous hour of the morning to depart Likhubula House for the last time. I am sure Andy and Emerson were more than happy to get on the road after a long night sleeping under the stars (voluntarily! after a backfired prank).

Paul (aka. number 25) soon welcomed us onto his bus of fun to depart for Blantyre, and his sons wedding. Having only knowing our infamous bus driver for a short two week period the invite came as a shock, however, upon our arrival at the chapel it soon became clear; African weddings are certainly a cultural experience incomparable to the White Western Wedding’s most are accustomed to.  

From the singing Nuns (who I thought were Saints); the extremely  “enthusiastic” priest yelling and almost convincing us he had declared a jihad.  There was no perception on how to use a microphone, even if we had learnt Chichewa words became one and we still would have misunderstood!

The bride and grooms rather notorious first kiss which resembled scenes from the Lion King, they way in which they rubbed their heads together as a sign of endearment and love.

After all, the wedding was an event that we will never forget. The girls can now cross off their bucket list wearing thongs to a wedding while the gentlemen of the trip picked up some charming outfits from the markets, including the only full-length tie available in Malawi.  

During the ceremony, the group made a quick exit, as it was time to head on home and endure a gruelling flight schedule back to Australia. Leg number one began at Blantyre Airport, where a computer was unheard of; the lengthy process of hand writing check in documents was monotonous and very unwelcomed from my fellow weary eyed travellers. The long delays for the flight were then followed by more terrible service and lack of meals for some. It was then time for a short-lived stop over at Johannesburg before hopping straight onto our next flight.

Boarding the Qantas plane was an emotional experience for some, with Adrian bursting into tears of joy over Australian accents and friendly staff. Certainly the taste of luxury we had all been longing! Andy’s excitement to be on the plane meant removing clothing items again (think back to the shirtless hike up the mountain…) This time the shoes were coming off, and after numerous hours travelling it was not pleasant! After only a few minutes on-board the ladies behind him decided to complain to the airhostesses about an odour stinking out the plane. The hostess politely reassured the passenger that a deodorizer had been sprayed; being well aware, it was infact the hairy mans “African smelling feet.” Being the well-mannered gentleman he is, Andy thought it was necessary to admit to the smell and explain his pongy feet, as embarrassing as it was for those around him it was very humouring.

Eleven long hours later, we were back on home soil, greeted by the news of Emerson’s misplaced luggage and the sad goodbye to our token teacher on the trip- Sue.

In Sydney, some satisfied their addictions with a quick shop, while others preferred to participate in wine tasting and the consumption of their much awaited zinger burger, but soon it was time to board our last flight. Yahoo!

Brisbane provided a normal Australian bus, with plenty of seating, foot room, and safety of night driving assured. I am certain this was a welcomed change for Madeline who consistently sat up the front of the bus scanning for any possible hitch common to the dirt roads of Africa.

Arriving at Bond brought mixed emotions by all, I certainly was excited to see family and friends and to be home safely but in the past 24 hours I have felt strangely alone.  Lets be honest, being surrounded by 23 people 24-hours of the day was no walk in the park, but the characters on this trip made it what it was. All the personal jokes, strange facts about each other, relationships and bromances helped us survive Africa. Each and every person chosen for this inaugural expedition brought something to the group, whether it was their humour, ability to care for everyone, give noteworthy massages, act like a politician, ask thousands of weird questions or being the token drunk pair attending local Malawian parties. I certainly believe we were all selected for this trip for a reason, whether that reason is known or unknown yet I do not know. What I do know is that I will forever remember the experiences we have shared as a collective and I cannot thank each and everyone of you for the time I have shared in Africa with you. I hope that one day soon we can do it all again.

Day 21: Malawian medicine

Day 21: Friday 7th September

Dora Huang

Today marked the last day of volunteering in Malawi. Amongst the group, there was an emotional push and pull of wanting to head back to Australia and wanting to stay in Malawi. The morning’s chatter was saturated with excitement at the thought of fresh home food, our comfortable beds and a warm shower without the fear of it turning icy cold. However as the day progressed the last Malawian hours became increasingly precious.

Whilst most of our group have been involved in education or marketing this week, I have been fortunate enough to work with the Primary Health Care unit of the Mulanje Mission Hospital (MMH). This involved taking part in the ‘mobile clinic’ each morning.

The MMH mobile clinic involves a team of 5 that services 50 villages in the Mulanje area each month. Every morning, a 4WD ambulance is stocked with a hang scale to weigh the children, vaccinations and HIV screening tests. This morning, we set out to service the fifth village of the week. On arrival, we were greeted by over 100 singing women and their young children seated under an old shady tree. The sight was spectacular. The rich blend of all the brightly patterned chitenjes was like looking through a kaleidoscope. Everyone seemed so joyous. The women sang and cradled their children. They sat rocking back and forth to the soul of the song.

The women routinely lined up with their children and attended the three stations of weighing, vaccinations and HIV screening in order. The hang-scale was setup by tying the scale to a sturdy tree branch with rope. The babies were weighed by being hung in chintenjes from a hook off the scale. As the babies dangled mid air 2m off the ground, the weight was taken and recorded in a ‘Health Passport’. It was certainly a worrying, yet humorous sight. The vaccinations process was just as amusing. The generic vaccinations were administered for the children aged up to 5 years. The efficiency of the administration of the vaccinations was extremely impressive. It looked like a production line. Child, needle, injection. Next child. Child, needle, injection. Next child. I have learnt that Malawian medicine is all about efficiency.

On the educational side of things today, Mr. Mission, the staff, the Abusa (mission’s priest) and Ruth Shakespeare had organised a farewell assembly for us. A moving speech was made by Mr. Mission to thank us for all that had been accomplished for the school. Chitenjes (traditional patterned skirts) were given to those who took part in the education program. Teary goodbyes were said to the students and promises of returning were made.

We exited the school and waited at the usual bus stop spot for Paul to drive us to the markets. More than forty-five minutes had past and it seemed that Paul and the bus were MIA. Excellent, all we could say was TIA. Plan A didn’t work, so off to execute plan B. Plan B involved bike taxis. Bike taxis are a popular and affordable type of Malawian transport. So in order for us to get the full Malawian experience we journeyed down the main street of Mulanje to the market on the uncomfortable back seats of bike taxis. The human powered transport was slow but it gave us time to truly appreciate the stunning landscape.

At the markets, celebratory drinks were had at Rob Wills, some girls picked up their tailored dresses from a dressmaker and a few boys had their hair braided. Others had gone out to shop for the several pranks that had been schemed over the days.

During the bus ride back to Likhubula Lodge, Casey executed the first prank that involved waving two skewers of 20 deep-fried furry mice in the girls’ faces. The unison high-pitched screams of girls were phenomenal. To think that it couldn’t get any worse, back at the lodge, the boys had tricked all the girls to sit in one room for a ‘wonderful surprise’. The surprise involved the release of a live chicken and locking the door. A state of panic swept through the room as the chicken ran wild. It was soon caught and ‘donated’ to the kitchen for the next night’s dinner. Finally, as girl’s payback, a covert operation took place during dinner where the belongings and beds of Andy and Emerson were transported outside onto a grassy hill. The pranks had provided some good final laughs of the trip.

Sadly, today is the last day in Mulanje. It is a place that many of us have fallen in love with. The lessons learnt have been invaluable, the memories made will be forever cherished and retold to our children, and I hope that as friends we will only grow closer in years to come.

Day 20: Our bittersweet symphony

Day 20: Thursday 5th September

Adrian Potter

Today started just like any other in our working week since arriving in Africa – the all too familiar routine of alarm clocks screaming at the crack of dawn, with our first port of call the dining hall for breakfast. 
Today was an exciting day for myself, as well as others, as it the first chance for some to partake in assisting as teachers aids in the very classrooms we ourselves renovated not a week ago, due to being engaged in other programs (i.e. Marketing and IT) etc.  
Arriving at the school I was immediately overcome with jubilation at the unabated enthusiasm and excitement of the local school children to see us again, despite our constant presence over the past weeks. 
Entering the school the corridors were abuzz with the sounds of children’s screams and laughter permeated the air. 

Beginning my morning was an outdoor PE class with Gemma and Mel. We taught the kids how to play stuck in the mud, bull rush, and instigated a game of soccer and netball with the balls bought for the school (kudos to Emerson for those!) The teacher divulged soon after arriving at the sports fields outside that PE is not normally part of the children’s curriculum- as was apparent by the myriads of children (both students and local children!) who converged on the field the moment the soccer ball was kicked. At best guess up to 100 ecstatic kids were running after the ball at any time – a humorous sight nonetheless! 
Sitting in on my first class with Maddy, I was made exceptionally welcome by the highly personable young female teacher, and the seemingly never-ending sea of smiles cast my way upon entering. 
It was not long before my jubilation became bittersweet, as I was confronted with some startling conditions I was observing in the classroom before my eyes – each occurring without so much as a whimper of disdain from either teacher or class. 

In classrooms that we were advised when renovating accommodated up to 80 children, I observed as many as 105 children crammed into the room. Students were literally sitting on the concrete floor, or those who had fortuned to find a seat were sharing a desk with as many as three or four other children.
The teacher’s materials were dilapidated at best, yet with a smile on her face and the respect of her students, she proceeded to conduct a disciplined and educational class. When the children are told it is time for their porridge (seemingly the only food fed to the children everyday for morning tea and lunch) they are all too eager to continue learning, opting to finish the class over exploiting an all too easy opportunity for an early-mark. 

Returning after a break, I notice the teacher is preparing to leave the class to teach the same subject (mathematics) to another class across the yard. I question which teacher or subject the current class will now receive, to which I am told there is not enough teachers on staff today, so this class will sit and wait until the teacher has taught a class to the class across the yard, as they had done this morning whilst this current class received their mathematics class. Explaining the situation to me so nonchalantly and unperturbed inferred such conditions are obviously a common occurrence, whereby students and staff alike are simply none the wiser. 

To assist in the only way we considered possible, Maddy and I decided to attempt to begin teaching the planned English lesson to the unsupervised class whilst the teacher taught mathematics across the yard. Perhaps one of the most challenging (our QLD accents seemed to only exacerbate the language barrier!!) albeit hilarious and rewarding situations I have ever found myself in, the children proved to be astonishingly well-versed in English, a testament to their unwavering commitment to learning and education. Every student I spoke to had huge goals and endeavors to be educated and become a doctor, politician, or a teacher. By the end of the day I had aided in classes teaching PE, mathematics, English, bible studies and life skills (sexual education). 

A truly grounding and perspective-altering experience, I rejoined my group of Bond colleagues at the end of the day with memories and experiences I will never forget. The atmosphere in the bus ride back to town and home today was one of euphoria as we each competed in excitement to regale the group of our experiences. I will never forget the people I have met, and made friends with in this country, and I most certainly will never forget the sheer tenacity of the locals as they go about their everyday lives in  with what some may deem as less than ideal, but what the locals here seem to consider more than enough.

Day 19: Saved by the bell

Day 19: Wednesday 5th September

Sara Trainor & Andrew Mackenzie

Today the maintenance group began teaching in the Primary School. 
On average there were 80 students per class. Each standard had about three classes. All up there are 3,000 students at the Mulanje Mission Primary School.

To commence the day, assembly started at 7.15 am – we were introduced to the children for the first time. They were very excited to meet the students who painted their class rooms. Assembly was conducted in both Chichewa and English and the national anthem was sung.

After assembly, Thinesh and I (Sara) proceeded to the classroom where we would teach standard 8 Science. Mr Mission (the Principal) wanted us to focus on the steps involved in a scientific investigation. The first class we taught had trouble understanding our accents, which made it very difficult to convey our message (there was a lot of translating from the teacher!). However, by our third class we had somewhat mastered teaching the steps of a scientific investigation.

Once a day the children receive a ‘portion’ of porridge. Each class is designated a time and the students are given 15 minutes for their meal. The students were extremely generous, offering us their porridge.

For lunch we ate at the canteen, the beef samosas have definitely become a hit amongst the Bafrica team.

On the marketing side of the program, we had finalized the first draft of our report for the Christmas appeal after our ‘day home from school’ yesterday. All the marketers set up camp/commandeered the Mission cafeteria, to finish reports and drink tea. Mainly to drink tea. With only one computer between two different marketing groups, the day was full of fighting for computer time and false promises about how much longer we would need the device.

With our draft finalized (who would’ve known our marketing classes would of actually come in use some day?) we were finally able to take it to the Medical Director of the Misson. The time had come, tensions were high, we had finished it only minutes before, how would it go down? The director was extremely satisfied with the report and our ideas on how to run the Christmas appeal.

Finally, we spent the afternoon in town in Mulanje. Maddie and I were fitted for dresses and Gemma had her entire hair braided with hair extensions, whilst Casey entertained the hairdresser’s son by making balloon animals. 

 

Day 18: Malawi Night

Day 18: Tuesday 4th September

Casey Schneeberger

After a relaxing and luxurious weekend at “The Lake”, the group set off for our first day at school. With shoes tided and lunch boxes packed the group was buzzing with nervous energy. Of course like any school there were a few kids who wagged and the odd kid who was ”sick”. Those who stayed home for the day knew that Mama Wardleworth’s number was on the fridge, that lunch was organised and that Mavis was jus next door.

Today the two marketing teams stayed home to work on their marketing plans, for the Mulanje Mission Hospitals Operating Theatre Christmas Appeal and the Tikondane HIV /AIDS support group, respectively. After spending the whole day working together and scheduling a few strategic nap breaks the team managed to finish most of the Christmas Appeal’s report.

This afternoon all the Bondies united together to storm a small market of woodcarvings, here everyone began to engage in some wheeling and dealing. Buying gifts from friends and family, splurging on personal keepsakes and beginning to realise the untapped power of ”bartering”. Swapping runners for rhinos, t-shirt for tables and electronic for elephants (that’s of course if wined-up alarm clocks count for electronics and in this country they should!). We were also doubling deals for a “better price” by banding together with bulk orders. After a series of wins on this front the team made their way home to field a friendly game of backyard soccer. Here you realised that the competition was beginning to get serious when Adrian was willing to risk his “country roads” and get down and dirty, the final result was decided by a next goal wins ruling and a controversially high final goal.

As night fell we began the “Malawi night” celebrations, a time for us enjoy the hospitality shown to us by our friends at Lukabula House while becoming more emerced in Malawian culture.  Lucksom the director of Lukabula began the night with some inspiring words about having friends from all over the world, the kitchen staff prepared a delicious feast of traditional foods, and a DJ provided us with some current Malawian beats. 

The party’s atmosphere was intensified by a group of Dutch schoolgirls who were also staying at the house. Despite the interruption these young women made to the night, relationships still blossomed, much to the delight of many girls on the trip. Many danced the night away before retiring to their beds at the very late hour of 11:00 pm. 

Day 17: Returning to the Heart of Darkness

 Day 17: Monday 3rd September

Alice Rose

A hurried breeze blew through the open window, billowing the mosquito net that hung from the four poster bed. The morning was late with the sun already losing the red glow that has welcomed us each day and the squirrels had begun to play among the trees, flitting from bough to branch with the greatest of ease. From such a start only good things were to come with eyes bright and smiles wide we greeted each other at breakfast. Tables stretched before us laden with the juice of fresh oranges and mangoes with eyes subtly squinting as we bit into tart mandarines and pastries spilled from bowls fresh still warm from the oven. 

A mischievous thief darted from the trees slinking between legs of tables and diners to perch himself upon a table. His fingers worked nimbly peeling bananas, a sneaky grin etched upon his face, before the shrieks of wait staff sent the black-faced vervet back to the trees.

Such a sublime morning had final swims swum, bills paid and smiles fade as we boarded the bus with bags packed high. Knees were perched under chins, heads rested upon shoulders and eye lids already dropping for sleep. As we moved beyond the manicured greenery and driveway lined with the the pinks of blooming boganvilla we reentered the the dry and dusty roads that would play before us in the six hour drive back to our mountain home. 

From the relative luxury we had just experienced the reel that played across our windows was but a reminder that the highways we crossed belong to the sixth poorest country in the world. We have seen the work of many an international organisation with news reports currently focusing on a new child protection campaign being worked on by the UNDP, USAID, Save the Children and at least six other organisations. It is this collaboration of the international community that appears to keep Malawi running. 

The bus trips that have comprised our journey have acted as the greatest tool to truly understand the country we are staying in. Each day all five senses are confronted as we witness a landscape, a people and a culture that are all so very different from what we see at home. 

Our eyes watch.

Mobs of children rush from the alleyways and bush waving their hands. They are clad in worn rags and hungry tummy’s protrude. Red dirt expands covered in grey-green foliage however is roughly peppered with the mauves of jacarandas and pinks of frangipanis. The woman wrapped in vibrant chitenjes are diluted by the ever present dust that hangs in the air stirred by wheel, hoof and bare foot as people traverse their daily lives. 

Our ears listen.

As we stop off at local villages we are greeted with ‘Moni’s and ‘Mullibanjes.’ More often than not I am met with a fast passed reply accompanied with a hearty chuckle from not only my dialogue partner but onlookers as I struggle to pronounce words. Being openly mocked by the locals is something I have come to expect and am sure (not really) that it is all done in jest. 

Our noses smell.

With such long bus rides our sleep is often ruptured with eyes flashing open in shock as the smell of rotting fish from local markets fill the bus. Windows slam and groans ensue. Lake Malawi is the third largest lake in Africa with the greatest diversity of fish species in the world. Fact: There are 600 species of fish in Lake Malawi, 350 of them being native. Malawi also has 700 native bird species, of which many live around the lake to take advantage of this fish supply. 

Our hands touch. 

As we hurtled along the road I outstretched my hand and felt the harsh warm air meet my fingers. The heat that comes in the middle of each day although sweet when sitting beside a pool does not imprint the same kind of warmth as bodies become slick with sweat. 

Our taste buds anticipate.  

Mango trees are heavy with flower, an ever present reminder that we have missed the golden fruits that will rain from the branches in a number of weeks. 

But all of these experiences would pale without the personalities that I have had to share them with. These people who started as mere strangers will now comprise the characters of the stories that I tell for the rest of my life. It is rare to be in such a concentrated environment where we are faced with many a challenge to be dealt with by twenty-four opinionated individuals. 

Stops were few, pulling over once for a quick toilet break. Soph and Sara were greeted warmly by local onlookers as they ventured into a not so vacant field. A fifteen minutes refuel in Blantyre increase to a forty-five minute wait for Dennis and Em who took their merry time in the Shop-Rite check out line. With such attempted haste the day slowly began to fade with a full moon rising. Mt Mulanje loomed ahead of us, ridges eerily by the bush fires that have burned each night. Heads were weary and patient was little as the hours in the bus broke even the most stoic of spirit. Dinner did little to lighten the mood with a stark comparison to the feast that had filled our tummies less than twenty-four hours before. 

Tomorrow will have us  again wake to see the sun glowing red, igniting hope and instilling the heat that provides the cause of Malawi being the warm heart of Africa. Although we are constantly confronted by the hardships that face this continent we are reminded by the people who are working so hard that Africa is not the fearful unknown that I first took to believe.