Stupid Things I Have Done While in Malawi (So far)

1.       Lost my Passport – This is #1 on my list – and led to a very uncomfortable two day ordeal. I had been carrying my British golden ticket around in the L.L. Bean travel wallet Karen had given me – taking it out every so often to admire the glittery one page Mozambique VISA I had to buy. When I checked into the Korea Gardens Lodge, I was asked to provide a passport number. I went to retrieve my passport from its accustomed slot – and it wasn’t there. Hmm – I thought – had I decided to return it to its previous resting place – my blue Gap waist bag? Settled into my new room, I checked the waist bag – nothing. I felt a sense of rising panic. I tore apart my suitcase and backpack, going through each item with care and terror. Nothing. I shared the news with the McCauleys, who were similarly shocked. Had it been stolen? I was certain it couldn’t have slipped out of the wallet, as it had been wedged in tightly. As the same wallet also held my Union Gas iPhone, I never let it out of my sight. And there had been money in the wallet – none of that had been taken. So we pretty much ruled out a crime. I wanted to blame my own carelessness and historical record of similar losses (such as keys) – but could I really have been that thoughtless with such a critical thing as my passport? Larry and Harrison went through the office, in case I had accidentally left it there. Still nothing. The following day, the day before Christmas Eve, I did another thorough search through all my belongings – and came up empty. My stomach was in turmoil – I recalled Tom Hanks, stranded in an airport because he had no passport – and imagined a future as a defacto Malawian resident. Fortunately, I am British and there is a British Embassy in Lilongwe – and I had a photocopy of my passport in my suitcase – but at the very least, I would miss my two week teaching stint in Mozambique. Around ten that morning, Linda came by the hotel and we compared notes – neither of us had found it, nor had Nancy, who I had been staying with. Options were limited – fears were rising. Linda and I were looking forward to a trip to the police station, to report a theft, followed by a trip to the Embassy, all as Lilongwe was winding down for the holidays. Linda looked at me and said, “Do you mind if I check your through your stuff?” “Not at all – please do. But I can assure you that I have checked everywhere and it is nowhere to be seen.” Linda started with the passport’s LKL (Last Known Location) – my L.L.Bean wallet.

I estimate it took her between 15 and 30 seconds to locate it – it had slipped into the second half of the pocket it was in – which turned out to be about 14 inches in length, not seven.Boy, did I feel stupid! Larry tells me she pulls off miraculous search and rescue efforts like this regularly. I still felt stupid.

2.       Gave 500 Kwatchas to a Boy – As I was walking across the Game parking lot, a raggedy boy approached – maybe eight years old – dressed in ripped and scruffy shorts and T-shirt, with scars all along his arms. Pitifully, he held out his hands and begged, “Mama – help me Mama – hungry.” Without thinking, I dug out 500 kwatchas from my L.L. Bean wallet – worth about $3.50 back in Canada. Worth a lot more to the poor of Malawi. Before I knew it, two more street urchins had shown up, hands out, begging for money. “No. No money! Not today, maybe later.” I said sternly, walking briskly away, clutching my wallet and avoiding eye contact. The two boys trailed me for quite some time, hoping I would relent. Handing money over to kids here just reinforces begging – and most of the time, they simply hand it over to some out of sight adult anyway. For all I knew, my raggedy beneficiary ended up in a scrap over the money, beaten up because of my thoughtless largess.

3.       Forgotten to Dress Modestly – This has happened a couple of times – the dress code, especially when away from the city, is for women to wear dresses or skirts, which fall below the knee – way below the knee. In Malawi, it’s all about the thighs – so women keep them covered. The worst instance occurred when I went for my first walk along the beach of Lake Malawi. I totally forgot, and trekked my way along the shore wearing my bathing suit and a T-shirt. Along the way, I encountered a teenaged boy on a bike, who took one look at me, and then dropped his eyes to my chunky white thighs, apparently riveted. I felt like a shameless, aging Godiva, corrupting an innocent young Malawian.

4.       Ate a 200 gram bar of Cadbury Chocolate in One Sitting  - OK, this one could just as easily have happened while at home in Canada.

5.       Forgotten My Malaria Medication – This occurred when we were headed out to Lake Malawi on Monday. Now, you would think, given my obsession with mosquitoes and my malaria meds that I would have double-checked that I had packed the pills. Wrong. It didn’t occur to me that I didn’t have them until after the McCauleys had loaded up their jalopy, driven 20 minutes from home, and stopped at a local Seven-Eleven store (related to the North American version in name only – and likely only one tourist informant away from a brand lawsuit.) As we were driving along, I started to get that niggling feeling – of things essential, forgotten – had I packed my once-a-week-Wednesday dose? That old familiar lost-passport sense of panic began to settle back into my gut as I searched my memory for any visual recall of the malaria medication in my backpack. I came up short – in no way did I recall noticing the pills in my pink travel bag. When the family disembarked at the Seven-Eleven to purchase some baked products and fireworks, I debated whether to swallow my pride and confess that I might have forgotten my pills, or suck up the loss, douse myself in repellent, and hope for the best.

I opted for the former – “Larry,” I began tentatively, “I know this is a terrible “girl thing”*** to do – but I think I may have forgotten to pack my malaria medication.” With that look of pained chivalry which married men seem to excel at, Larry handed over the keys so I could unpack his magnificent packing job, in order to root through my backpack – only to come up, as I had suspected – empty. Twenty minutes later, back at their place, I retrieved my pills in shameful triumph, and slunk back to the automobile, so the McCauley’s could restart their vacation. [***The use of the term “girl thing” was sheer manipulation on my part – to hopefully engender something akin to aggrieved pity in a man who was shortly going to have to beat his way back through the Lilongwe traffic jam he thought he had left behind. Is that wrong?]

This is just a random sampling – I’m sure there are other instances – fortunately my ability to do stupid things is rivalled only by my poor recall of the stupid things I have done.

*** Actually, the McCauley’s have been on the receiving end of several stupid things – most recently – at the lakeside cottage we were sharing, I, for some unaccountable reason, left the bathroom with a roll of toilet paper almost entirely empty – perhaps four or five sheets left – without searching out where Linda was keeping her stash. I came pretty close to mentioning it, then didn’t, and have felt guilty ever since. Am I turning back into the teenager who would leave a ¼ teaspoon of juice in the jug in the refrigerator – is sustained exposure to a nuclear family causing me to revert? Yesterday, I threw another wrinkle into their plans by failing to mention I had sent an email to Cluny Lodge, to see if they had a budget room available for two nights – so I could give the family a break from me, after our trip to the lake together. As I hadn’t heard back from the lodge before we left, I assumed there wasn’t a room, and agreed to just bunk in with the McCauleys again – an arrangement that actually simplified things for all of us. Well, let’s just say poor beleaguered Larry once again ended up driving around Lilongwe when I messed up the directions to Cluny Lodge, after getting a belated email from them confirming my reservation.