Bad bus, good bus

My 37th birthday began in a 5 bed dorm room in the top floor of a converted three story office building in downtown Lilongwe, Malawi. The scene was straight out of the Matrix with a blue mosquito net hovering above each cot, filling our heads with the needed skills for the 12 hour adventure that lay ahead. After a quick rinse in what I now appreciate to be an excellent, warm shower, I headed to the kitchen to grab a piece of toast and jam only to learn the power was out. A jelly sandwich became my celebratory nourishment. Three bites later, I was done and off to the Internet cafe a block away. Business people and ordinary citizens crowded the dry, dusty, orange-clay Lilongwe streets. Because we needed to travel to Blantyre that day, an ATM stop was needed to take out some Kwacha. However, with more than 30 crossed-arm, bored Malawians waiting in line, we deduced the outage extended beyond the hostel's four walls. We initiated Plan B and went straight to the Internet dungeon to check its status. The computers were on! I sat down at my kindergarten sized desk in an environment devoid of all illumination. After ten minutes, I had only been able to get one, two sentence e-mail off. Not Comcastic:( Suddenly, an alarm sound pierced our ears, but we didn't react except to laugh that it was better than the vuvuzela from the Confederation Cup games. [My theory on those is that some South African soccer fans stumbled on a box of New Year's Eve goodies meant for Time's Square and fell in love with the three feet long plastic horns (vuvuzela) and decided to torture opposing fans with their debilitating cackle.] When our chuckle subsided (the humour LCD has fallen pretty low), the cafe manager informed us that the siren indicated the generator was on the verge of its own demise. Soon, the computer faded to black.Back at the room we decided we needed to use some of our emergency US dollars. That saved our Kwacha for water and bus fare. With the prospect of a five hour bus ride ahead, I also splurged on some chocolate cookies (as a birthday gift to myself). I still deliberated between the 80KW and 100KW cookies and went with 80KW. (175KW = $1).With vital vittles in hand, we ventured to the bus stop arriving at 10:30. By 12:30, our 11 o'clock bus still had not shown, so we began making other plans. At 1:00 though, a 1980's commuter bus showed with a handwritten Blantyre sign in its window. Hooray! Two of us jockeyed in line, using our elbows and butts to establish position, only allowing 5 teenagers to leap in front of us in the queue. I successfully held 4 of the hard plastic seats for my comrades handling the luggage. We reunited shortly and idled for another 30 minutes, with street vendors hawking their wares through the bus windows - bananas, lollipops, fanta, milk, yogurt, eggs, slippers, sandwich bags of water and many other commodities. I passed on them all, but did think twice about the mice on a stick. Seemed too early to be THAT adventurous. To our surprise, we were asked to move to a more luxurious bus that had just pulled in to the depot. My jockeying skills were utilized again, with a renewed zest. Only 2 kids got through my Mutombo elbows this time. In our smaller, but cloth, seats we finally began the travels - at 2:30 pm. For the next 5 hours, we crossed some amazing Malawian landscape - individual, rocky mountains covering the horizon with vast dry plains at their feet, speckled with plump shrubbery or the African tree, interspersed among traditional huts or villages with fires aglow. The one cd of traditional tribal music added to the atmosphere, despite it being played at full volume. At least for a little while it was enjoyable. As night descended upon us, we approached the small town of Lirangwe, about 70 kms from Blantyre. We noticed the brightness and clarity of the numerous stars. With no interference from city lights or street lamps, the stars shone vibrantly. In fact, I noticed there were no lights at all, unfortunately that included our headlights. Soon we had to pull over as we almost hit 10 different walking or biking Malawians. After an hour of roadside fun, including me inspecting the fuse box of the 60 passenger bus, three of us went searching for an alternative means of transportation. With some struggle, we hailed a 1970's mini-bus to get a quote on a ride for five passengers with 10 bags. Almost immediately, two other previously hidden mini-busses appeared providing us with some negotiating leverage. Seeing competition at work was comical - drivers made various accusations ranging from claims that other buses had no gas to claims that the buses weren't actually going to Blantyre. Once I got us a reasonable price of 1000KW for everything, the big buses lights came on! We decided to roll the dice with the big bus to the disappointment of the mini-bus driver who pointed to it and said "bad bus." He pivoted and pointed to his bus proudly and declared "good bus." I apologized but knew my blog title immediately! With luck, we made it to Blantyre by 9:00 and were escorted to our rooms at the Malawi National Sports Council to rest in our bunk beds before heading to sites the next day. I set up my mosquito hut for the first time, squeezing it into my lower bunk space, much to the amusement of my friends. It must be pretty funny to see all 6'1" of me crawling into a 2'x2' pop up mosquito tent. I could, however, see an ounce of jealousy in their eyes when I pointed out it also meant none of the roaches could fall on my head. With that thought, the memories of the majestic landscape and the anticipation of the upcoming trainings, I soon faded off to black myself.