January 24, 1997
Quite an adventure here, walking around Stone Town. The feeling is Arab rather than African. Gorgeous city, Zanzibar, I can’t get over it.
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Zanzibar – northern side
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Fishermen fixing their nets
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Zanzibar – fishing boat
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Historical Turkish bath in Zanzibar
I met a few Aussies and Brits who just got off a big overland tour at the market. Walking back to the hostel from the market, we got mugged. Not with your basic knife, but a blade of the persuasion better described as a machete and a 14 inch dagger.
Rushing out of the trees 3 guys grabbed a girl’s camera. I was ~20 yards behind with another guy. As we ran forward to help-one of the guys ran toward us knife upraised. I thought I was going to get stabbed – so I ran. He guy next to me tripped and dropped the souvenirs he was carrying. I turned back to help and the thief grabbed the souvenirs. He dragged his knife along the ground – orange sparks flew from the blade and the sound of steel against stone sound rang through the dark night. Of course we ran – I don’t know if I’ve ever moved so fast.
Zanzibar - northern side
But, I guess it makes for a good story. Now I’m on the North beach of Zanzibar – lovely place.
January 22, 1997
After coming across Lake Malawi on the ferry, sleeping on bags of sugar, I entered Tanzania. At the border, I’ve never come across a more blatant form of government corruption. After seeing I had a U.S. passport and seeing my visa, they started saying that I must “pay” for the visa in “hard currency.” Pretty much meaning anything other than the Zimbabwe dollars I paid. They said… ”the national policy is to pay in hard currency, so you must pay for the visa.” I basically called them on it. They tried every string of lies they could think of to get money out of me. “Be Honest” I said. Full of it, they were – but probably not the smartest move on my part to fight them on it.
Sleeping accomodations on the Lake Malawi ferry to Tanzania
Making it to Tanzania – I had to sit in the back of a truck for 6 hours of dirt road with potholes and mud (again). Upon making it to Songea, I was offered loads of sapphires and pot – fortunately the door was made of steel and had a huge deadbolt. In the morning I got a 12 hour bus from there to Dar es Salaam (the capital) -it’s a rundown city with little character. From there I jumped on the Flying Horse across the sea to the “spice island” of Zanzibar.
I did have the best “shai” ever at a roadside café (literally a rickety bench and table next to the bus station). Stick to the back of your throat spiced tea – unbelievable.
January 19, 1997
Nkhata Bay – this place is great! I’m staying at the Heart Motel. It’s right in the middle of a little village. The local owners are terrific people – I’m sounding like a cheese ball movie review. I met some other travelers with whom I’m getting along with famously. I ordered a couple of the Malawi wood chairs to go with my chessboard. The guy making them let me design my own. 2 days or so, it will take him to make. I decided on a sun chair and a moon chair. A nice balance of opposing forces. Sun with fish – moon with land.
The Heart Motel Travelers
I’m going to send it all back to Terrance with some money and have him send to me in the states. Expensive, but I’m here once. It’s strange, I am in the mindset of cheap – and so I have a tough time justifying spending. But why am I worried? No reason at all.
As I was walking back to the motel, I saw a gathering of locals. They were all abuzz about something. It turns out that lake flies, almost like gnats, swarm up from the lake and people go out in boats and catch them with baskets. They squished some for me into a little patty and had me taste it. I think they enjoyed laughing at the foreigners. In any case, it tasted almost nutty. Getting over the fact they were bugs and I was eating them wings and all – they were quite tasty.
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The Heart Motel Travelers
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Delicious patty made from lake flies
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Basket of lake flies
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Local villagers in Nkhata Bay
January 18,1997
It’s late in the evening and I’ve just returned from a Malawian Christian house-warming party. I can still hear them in the background. It was quite the intense experience. They sing African/Chichewe songs, all vocal, in the classic African style. They dance and basically get very into their music. Their attitude toward worship is also quite different. Instead of being solemn, they say you should express yourself in any way you feel. Dance, sing, whatever.
The voices were lovely, all different tones – I couldn’t understand a word, but it was lovely.
January 15, 1997
Chichiwe Words
- Palibe kantthit or Palibe chifukwa = No problem
- Zimachitika = It happens…
- Osadandaula = Don’t worry
So these are the Chichiwe/ Malawian word I’ve come to know. I left Monkey Bay yesterday today. Cripes, what a long day. It all started the night before…
We went snorkeling in Lake Malawi – Brilliant! It’s exactly like swimming in a tropical fishbowl (but fresh water). My trusty guide Malambo – is really rather a slimy fellow. A nice guy, but he rubs me the wrong way.
Snorkling in Lake Malawi
Anyway, I got hooked with these people opening a hostel in an incredible place they are calling Treetop- a nice German couple. After having real coffee – not the Ricoffee instant bullshit, they dropped us off and again I spent the evening at Gary’s bar. Not drinking, but I was interested in watching people. Money is such a big thing – it’s the one thing they are willing to go behind their friend’s backs on. Jeffrey – a mellow fellow I got to be friends with at the bar is trying to get me to sort out selling stuff for him stateside – a big MAYBE.
Getting to bed late, I was only going to snooze for an hour or two. the bus to Salima left at 3:00AM Lucky me – I missed it. Sitting around the bus station I hooked a ride with a buckie going to Salima. I jumped in the back – of all the roads in Africa that have been bad, this was the worst. Sitting in an open air buckie flying down the road trying to miss potholes – or at the last second HIT them – in conjunction with trying to keep from being thrown out of the back and aiming for various pedestrians, it made for quite an interesting trip. The real cattle car. Adding to the fact that back was completely full of people, corn, maize, baskets of fish, kids, tires and everything else, we had a perfect view of the rainstorm we had to drive through.
Looking like a bedraggled dog, we made it to Salima. From there I popped into Senga Bay and bought a chess board. Damn these people are tenacious when it comes to money. I don’t like it at all. Monkey Bay was excellent, but so far that’s been the bright point of Malawi.
January 14, 1997
I’ll have to finish up my list of Aussie vocabulary later. Lisa and I parted ways in Zomba, Malawi. She went back to Blantyre and is flying to Dar Es Salaam, and I’m heading up north through Malawi. As of now, I’m in Monkey Bay, the bottom part of the lake. I’ts the middle of Janauary and I’m on the downhill trend toward going home.
The last couple nights I’ve been hanging out with the local blokes. Yesterday, I sat with the local lads drinking this vile concoction of maize, sorghum, wheat and whatever else – gone sour. It takes 1 1/2 days to make, they informed me. Here I am drinking Napoloa “the national beer” hoping I wouldn’t catch some weird sickness, talking bullshit with these guys. Moving on to Gary’s bar, we sat around and “schilled out…” to use the proper expression.
People in Malawi are very nice, surprisingly so, considering queuing in the bank and anywhere else you have to push your way in. To tell the truth, I’m not extremely excited to tour through malawi. I’m going further north. I’d like to ereach Zanzibar by the end of January.
The kids are scared of foreigners like you wouldn’t believe. They start screaming and running away.
**Historical Note: Apparently during the Zulu Wars, the Malawians were the pacifists who ran away from war. They also call themselves “The Heart of Africa”
January 9, 1997
Tomorrow, Malawi-coming back through Zim was no problem. I caught a bus to Siavonga (Kariba) and walked across the Kariba dam. Getting to the MOTH campsite where I was supposed to meet Lisa and Terrence, the lady at the reception looks at me and immediately says “I have a message from Lisa – sorry she couldn’t make it to Kariba, but she’ll see you at the lodge at Harare.” So that was that.
Catching the bus was no problem. But, I ended up next to some drunk that was trying to get my address. Then some religious dude wanted it too. It seems they want a connection to the 1st world. (I’m not into it at all). Anyway, the religious guy sorted me out. After reaching Harare, a taxi driver gave me a ride to our “rendezvous” point. Nobody there.
The next morning I tried calling around to several other hostels – no luck. So I gave up. I had a feeling that I would see them. Changing hostels from one out of town to one closer, I sorted out mailing packages home – 3 months! and money. I tried to get rid of my Zambian kwachas, and have a statue to prove it.
Walking around Harare people shove things in your face to try and get you to buy their trinkets. Annoyingly so. This enterprising fellow tried to sell me the statue in question. He asked if I’d like to change money. Now, Zambian kwachas are worthless. I had KW4, 000 maybe $US7-$8 in value. Knowing that I probably wouldn’t be able to get rid of them, I ”held onto his statue” while he conveniently went to change them for me. On the offhand chance I would see him again, I sat down to wait. (Of course he didn’t show up). With a flurry of movement – up walk Lisa and Terrance (they reinforced that I would never see my kwacha’s again). Reunited once again. So off to Malawi we go.
I must say I’m quite happy to leave Zim. It’s growing rather comfortable. Just time to move on.
So I’ve picked up some Australian expressions.
- camp - effeminate
- tosser - loser
- casing – milling around looking for an opening
- get f*cked – ha ha
- suss – figure out the situation
- shat – past tense of shit
- tart(y) - loose
- slapper/clapper – a not so nice term for a gal
- lob – drift over
- mingen – completely gross
January 6, 1997
Volume II of my travels.
Travel Journal - Volume 2 cover
Coming from Livingstone, Zambia, the other side of Victoria Falls, I ended up in Lusaka. I decided I was going to try and meeting Lisa and Terrence.
Swimming around in the Zambezi above Victoria Falls was quite an experience – Random thought.
Anyway, I met a bunch of Swedish med students in Livingstone on their way to Lusaka. We all jumped in a bus together. One of the baggage handlers dropped pack on my Zebra masks and cracked them – no hard feelings. But, I made him pay me. I figure if you make a living out of hustling people, if you broke something the person would be very compassionate and perhaps a fool if they let it slide. I didn’t give him too difficult a time over it.
Getting into the bus, the first sign that we were going to have trouble was probably the fact that they had to push start the entire bus. We went along well for a while, and then it happened. The big breakdown. It was raining and we had to get our bags down. One thing about these African rains is they come hard and fast.
Push Starting the Bus - Lusaka, Zambia
We ended up having to hitch ~200KM back to Lusaka. No problem, I guess Lusaka is like Jo-burg -lots of crime. I got sorted out with the Swedes at the hospital. All the students are women and they’re all beautiful and all extremely nice. I’d date a Swedish doctor!
As I finished transcribing the first volume of my travel journals, it occured to me that the art of the handwritten journal may be dead. All of the adventure and mystery stories, clues and revelations from ancestors and beyond were forever hidden until discovered by an explorer. Saying that you stumbled across a hidden file in an old computer sort of kills the romantic idea of tying an advernture to any historical context.
One has to think that in 10 years a “blog” may be as outdated concept as a handwritten journal.
A couple images of the first journal below. I’m catching up on journal 2.
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Global Adventures of Richard Ouyang – Volume 1
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Handwritten journal pages
January 4th, 1997
Yesterday, we decided to come to Zambia. It’s actually the 4th of January now. Getting organized in the morning, I got a Wimpy’s brekkie and loaded up for Zambia. Crossing the border, we hit a bummer deal. Terrance couldn’t get the car through. Apparently he didn’t have the right papers. So, I came on alone. I was about ready for the split anyway. So today, I saw Vic Falls in total. Swam around in the pools above the Falls, DREAMY. I bought a bunch of art work, haggling my ass off. It was great fun. Such a sense of accomplishment when you get a price down from $Z150 to $Z70 for two.
I’m going to try and meet Lisa and Terrance in Kariba, I decided. I’m not hearing rave things about Zambia. Thus comes the end of volume I of my world travels.
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A look back to Zimbabwe
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