What was that I said about having enough time and just letting the trip unfold, and not stressing? Yeah, well, even though I know that to be best, after today I’m tempted to give up the whole trip.
I got off today just fine: Kory was concerned this morning that since the bwanas are in Chikwawa, there would be no transport out of the park. But we had only been waiting for a minute or so when the Escom lorry came through, headed for town. Kory had the gate guard ask them to give me a lift. After I hauled myself up into the back, the driver got out to make sure I was safe with all that equipment* or perhaps that all the equipment was safe with me. I said I was fine. “Sure?” “Ay.”
The men cracked jokes about me I couldn’t quite get, but they also stopped me from getting off the lorry when I first saw the train tracks—3km early. I enjoyed their confusion when I started talking in Chichewa, basi.
After disembarking from the lorry and telling them all, “Muyende bwino,” I got directions from a couple people, including one woman when the station was in view, I just didn’t know that was it. Well, part of the reason I asked her was to fend off another bike taxi who wanted to shuttle me 50 feet.
Once on the train, I attracted the normal azungu attention, annoying as it can be. Although it also helped me befriend Brenda, Robina, and a guy whose name I never got, but who bought me a mandasi and offered a rice-filled samoosa as well.
When I pulled out my knitting, Brenda grabbed it and started working on it. I found feeding her yarn and watching the labour-intensive way she managed the sticks and string almost as distracting as knitting it my own damn self.
Eventually, after about 5 hours, I got to Nayuchi.
The Malawian immigration people told me they’d let me through, but I couldn’t get into Mozambique because they were “double-sure” there are no visas given at Entre Lagos. I tried to invoke Sarah’s name coz she told me the border people can be difficult, but they told me she doesn’t usually cross the border, and when she does it’s allowed because she’s only going to Entre Lagos and only for an hour or so. Sarah’s traveling East Africa, so I had no way of checking with her, but based on what she told me, it seemed plausible.
I asked if they could stamp me out and let me go check. They said sure, but the train might leave while I checked. That seemed like fear mongering (which it was) but I fell for it because the last thing I wanted was to be trapped in Nayuchi until I sprung for a private car or whatever. So, I ended up waiting for the train to load for 20 minutes (enough time, according to immigration, for me to have gone to Entre Lagos and asked), climbing over hills of 50kg rice sacks, finding a seat, and writing all of this before the train even started to think of moving.
But of course now the train really will leave any second—or still in another hour, so . . . . I can’t leave to find out. I found some Malawians who are nice and sympathetic, including Debbie’s co-worker Davis, who worried I didn’t know that the train doesn’t go straight through to Cuamba and so searched me out to make sure I was ok. But they had no idea about the visas because Malawians don’t need visas for Mozambique.
*a transformer tied down in the middle of the bed and various other parts somehow related to the generation and transmission of electricity scattered below.
