Sheltering Sky
"He did not think of himself as a tourist; he was a traveller. The difference is partly one of time, he would explain. Whereas the tourist generally hurries back home at the end of a few weeks or months, the traveller, belonging no more to one place than to the next, moves slowly, during periods of years, from one part of the earth to another. Indeed, he would have found it difficult to tell, among the many places he had lived, precisely where it was he had felt most at home". PAUL BOWLES
Malawi Journals (part I): first day in Africa
Published 30 April 2007 by G.M. ERADES | E-mail this post
Lilongwe, 29 April 2007
For many years of my life, when I thought of Africa, I would inevitably think of Robert Redford and Meryl Streep having a picnic in the savannah, shooting a lion, flying over the buffalos. It was a colourful dreamy world of fantasy and fiction. Today, Africa became a reality.
The plane landed at noon. As I walked down the stairs I was hit by a dense wall of hot air. Despite my excitement, I felt very tired. I hadn’t had much sleep (from London I had to change planes in Nairobi and then stop in Lusaka). I looked around. There was plenty of light and green. I had reached my destination.
If you asked me a month ago anything about Malawi, I wouldn’t have much to say, except… actually, no “except”, I would probably not have been able to name the capital. Today I arrived in Lilongwe to stay for three weeks. I’ll be working in development projects in one of the poorest countries on Earth.
For many years of my life, when I thought of Africa, I would inevitably think of Robert Redford and Meryl Streep having a picnic in the savannah, shooting a lion, flying over the buffalos. It was a colourful dreamy world of fantasy and fiction. Today, Africa became a reality.
The plane landed at noon. As I walked down the stairs I was hit by a dense wall of hot air. Despite my excitement, I felt very tired. I hadn’t had much sleep (from London I had to change planes in Nairobi and then stop in Lusaka). I looked around. There was plenty of light and green. I had reached my destination.
If you asked me a month ago anything about Malawi, I wouldn’t have much to say, except… actually, no “except”, I would probably not have been able to name the capital. Today I arrived in Lilongwe to stay for three weeks. I’ll be working in development projects in one of the poorest countries on Earth.
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How did I get from Berlin to the small airport of Malawi? It all started three weeks ago, just after I heard about the results of the EU exams. I went back to Brussels for a second interview with Action Aid. They liked me and I liked them. Next day they offered me the position of coordinator for EU-funded projects. ‘The job is based in Brussels, but there is a lot of travel involved,’ they warned me. I thought about it for a couple of days. Am I ready for this? Working in development issues is what I really wanted to do at this moment of my life; that is why I had applied for the job to begin with. I accepted and they sent me to Malawi.
My task here is to work with the local staff to develop project proposals hoping to secure funding from the European Commission. One project is to combat sexual and social harassment to school girls, another one about irrigation systems for small farmers and another one about access to market information for food producers so that they can maximise their incomes. The initial ideas come from Action Aid Malawi, that is staffed only with locals. Now we have to prepare detailed project proposals that the Commission would chose. Here is where I step in.
The road from the airport to the hotel was like riding through a huge park: green grass, with solitary trees and colourful flowers. Children were playing on the sides, women wrapped in colourful clothes carrying stuff on their heads and babies on their backs. This is just how you would imagine Africa. ‘So Green’, I muttered. ‘We just finished the rainy season,’ explained Cameron, Action Aid’s jeep driver. Checking in I met an Italian journalist who happened to be here to cover some of Action Aid’s work for Corriere della Sera. We must have come on the same plane, but I hadn’t noticed her. Other than her.
I dropped my stuff in the room and went for a short walk to get some bearings. Lilongwe is not what in Europe would be considered a city. There are no streets, just roads. No sidewalks. Buildings are low, scattered, with old paintings that announce milk powder for the whole family or a cheap car mechanic. Today was Sunday, so everything was closed. People were bathing in the river. Then I walked into an open market and felt a bit stressed. I returned to the hotel just in time to get into the swimming pool before it closed. Back to my room, I collapsed in bed. Room service woke me up at 18:00 to spray the room with more insecticide.
I have seen no lions or buffaloes, and instead of a rifle I came armed with a laptop, and yet I can’t avoid the sensation of being part of an adventure. I’m in Africa.
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