As we drove further north through Mozambique, the land became higher, greener, more rugged and vibrant. It was also cooler and more humid, which brought more mosquitoes. By the time we had crossed the border into Malawi, we were in the midst of full-blown mountains. My heart sang. It reminded me of home.
We went first to Lake Malawi, which is one of the most beautiful places I’ve been. It fully satisfied my love of mountains and water in one place. Some evenings, when the sun was low but not yet below the skyline, the water was a perfect reflection of the sky, both colored the same luminescent, pale blue. The old, wooden fishings boats men had paddled far out onto the lake in the morning could be seen on the horizon, and they looked as if they floated in the air.
There were always people in and around the lake. It is the lifeblood of the people who live by it: their source of water, their source of income, a source of food, their place to bathe, their place to socialize; also a source of potentially devastating parasites.
The people in Malawi are also some of the most genuinely friendly people I’ve ever met. Called “the warm heart of Africa,” Malawi is like the Ireland of that continent.
We passed through breathtaking countryside as we went further north to the capital. The mountains became more numerous, rising not in chains but in small clusters, or as a single, haphazard mountain far from its brothers, punctuating the rich landscape. Tiny villages dotted the valleys and the highlands.
Malawi’s capital, Lilongwe, was a surprise. It was much more developed than one would expect for the capital of the poorest country in the world. There were stretches of road that had beautiful homes, Western-style shopping centers, nice hotels and restaurants. Very nice, even fancy, cars could be seen in the streets. One found visitors from America, Europe, Asia, and elsewhere, all over the city. (This, I discovered, is mostly a result of the large presence of foreign development work done there.)
But in other districts of the city, one found desperate poverty. People lived in mud-brick homes with no floor, electricity, or running water. Children went about in tattered clothes without shoes. Chickens and ducks wandered the lanes. They were like rural villages in the middle of the city.
One could see evidence of the government’s role in the country’s economic state. A massive, brand new, unopened soccer stadium rose among these surrounding villages. Nearby, a gated community of extravagant, government-subsidized homes sat empty because no one could afford them. Appearances seemed to be of more interest than actual solutions. Malawians feel they have no one championing them and grow weary of their government. Even while we were there, there was political scandal and unrest: people were killed, members of parliament arrested. It was quite a contrast to the highly civil, if ineffective, system in America.
Yet, the people remain resilient, with hope and kindness in their hearts.
