Now That is a Tweet

We were sad to leave and say goodbye to our little hidden paradise, we were also kinda dreading the trip back. Especially with our overstuffed bags full of souvenirs, June and I definitely did not think that one through. We felt confident though that we knew what to expect so it was going to be better than the trip there.

            The first leg we knew we’d be on an overstuffed bus back to Lilongwe the capital. When we arrived at the Mzuzu bus station we had two options. 1) get on a bus that was leaving pretty much now but not have a seat for probably the whole 7 hours. or 2) get on another bus with open seats but leave when it is full. We still had no idea of the situation getting back to Zambia so we took the gamble of the quicker leaving bus. We fought with the manager that we would get on his bus but would not pay the full price if we had to stand the whole time. “Oh but you will get a seat! People get off at every stop there will be plenty of places to sit!” We told him fine, if we get a seat, we will pay the difference when we get off. After much arguing, he agreed.

This was a bit of a crappy gamble to take. My height worked to my disadvantage, I could reach the overhead shelf that was the only place to hold on to but as a result my hand cramped up often and I pulled the muscles in my shoulders. If I didn’t hold on, I fell on whoever was next to me and that would have been a heck of a lot more uncomfortable. The bus begins to move and I feel some intense gusts of wind at my feet. Hmmm someone must have moved their dress or skirt or blanket or something… but then I feel it again and now two women are looking under their seats and kicking at something. There is a live chicken underneath the bus seat next to me. I give a horrified look to Derek and mouth “OMG this is Africa.” The owner promptly grabs the chicken and shoves it back into the back full of dried fish that she had placed under the seat in front of her. I don’t know what happened to the chicken or if she got off soon after that, but that was the last we heard of it. Well I should say, that was the last we heard of that particular chicken.

I started hearing chirps, cute little high pitched ones. I casually looked around, not wanting to make a big deal out of it and my eyes come to rest on a small chicken tied in a grocery bag with its head sticking out. It probably wasn’t too happy, hence the chirping and eventually the little guy got shoved up in the overhead compartment between some bags. Personally, I think he got the best seat on the bus… It was in all respects a real live Tweet… and probably worthy of an actual Twitter post.

I was jealous the chicken got a seat and I didn't

Just to let you know, we only found seats with about 1 hour left. I don’t know if people were just rude, or clueless, or it just wasn’t customary but the whole ride us in the aisles were pretty much confined to the front half of the bus. Even though there were people getting on at every stop and there were like 10 people deep in just the door landing no one would move further back. Instead they just stood, packed like sardines where they were. I tried asking people to move to make more room and they either looked at me, or they stepped aside to let me go in the back. Wasn’t even worth it.

We finally arrive in Lilongwe at about 3 or 4pm and begin looking for a bus to Lusaka. To our horror, the only bus to Lusaka left a few hours ago and to put the topper on the cake, the next one won’t leave for another 3 days. After our after dark experience in Lilongwe on the way here the last thing we want to do is be stuck here again. After much deliberation we decide that the best option is to get to Zambia as fast as possible. The sun was going to set in a few hours, and the Zambian border was about 150km away. Because it was over an international border there was no one we could call about busses or accomodations, all we knew was that there was one really nice expensive hotel across the border but no one really wanted to spend the money to stay there.

We negotiated a taxi to the border. 150km should have only taken us an hour or an hour and a half, MAYBE 2 hours which is why we heckled the driver so much.  Now before I continue my travel story, let me narrate you through the conversation we have with the driver as soon as we get in his car. We are driving away from the bus station and happen to be passing our super sketchy hotel that was our refuge for a few hours a week ago. We notice that there are some very skimpy? dressed women on the balconies, and theres a lot of them too. Hahah interesting, it kinda looks like a whore house doesn’t it? Wouldn’t that have been a funny story. As we whisper our speculations to each other, I decide screw it, lets ask the driver. “Hey what do you know about that hotel? Do those women…work there…?” “Oh yes that is a place where you can go and pay someone to have sex with you.” HAHAH WUT? Are you serious? “Yeah they charge 1,300 flat rate but some guys don’t like it because they spend the 1,300 and it only lasts 3 mintues!!!  HAHAHAH Then they want some of their money back!!” The four of us exchange horrified glances. THAT’S why the guy only wanted to give us one room! THAT’S why the rooms were so barren. THAT’S why there was a big scary bouncer at the door. THAT’S why the bus drivers always stay there. OH GOD THAT’S why my bed only had one pillow! We compose ourselves and I then clue in our driver “We thought that was a real hotel and we stayed there on our way in.” He then clues US in on a tip that would have been a lot more useful a week ago. “Oh yes! If you ever need a cheap place to stay just go there and for 1,300 you can sleep for the night. You don’t even need to have sex with the woman, just send her home or let her hang out while you sleep.”

Thoughts running through our heads:

“We literally could have been taken.”

“I don’t know if the guys were protecting the girls, or the girls were protecting the guys that night when we split up for security purposes.”

“OMG those dudes totally ripped us off, charging 5,500 each for 3 hours in our rooms. Had we known it was a brothel we would have ordered 2 hookers for about half the price one of us paid.”

“I hope the sheets were clean.”

“I can now put SLEEP IN A BROTHEL on my bucket list and cross it off.”

“At least the bus manager kinda had our best interests in mind.”

After some self-reflection during our overly long taxi ride we arrive at the Zambian border. It is now dark, we have no information on where to stay or when busses to Lusaka leave and no way to get that information. The border guys told us there was a cheaper place, the taxi guys will know where it is.

After battling the vulture–like cab drivers we get in a cab and ask him if he knows where this hotel is. He does but then as we begin thinking we realize we should probably head to the bus station first to prepare for the next morning. At this point we are starving, we left at 7am after breakfast and it is now about 8pm at night, we are tired after having stood with our arms over our heads for 7 hours, and while we were happy to be in Zambia the only thing we wanted was to be back in Namibia. Pulling up to this bus station the cab was instantly surrounded with people grabbing at it, hitting the window to get our attention and business, and trying to yell a conversation with us through the window of a moving vehicle. Even as I was sitting in the car with June outside talking with everyone making a deal there were still people tapping on the window. When June and Brandon stuck their bodies half inside the car to speak with me and Derek about our options there were still people trying to shove their faces, hands, whatever in our faces and all over the window. I was really stressed out, did not want to end up in another brothel and knew we had a long way to go still. Actually I think we were all at our breaking points and so June whipped around and yelled LEAVE US ALONE WE HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS! and it was topped off by Derek not even missing a beat and yelling SHE DOESN’T EVEN GO HERE! Mean Girls for the win. Mood lifted J

We jump back in the cab, thank him for dealing with us and hanging around while we figured everything out but then asked him to take us to pick up some food. We had no idea where this hotel we were planning to go to was but we kept seeing signs and although the cab driver didn’t know exactly where it was he had already helped us so much that instead of asking him to wait for us again instead to pick us up at the store the following morning at 4am. He agreed however we quickly realized that our hotel was not within walking distance by any means but actually another cab ride away. We found this out as we just walked aimlessly around Chipata and someone finally stopped. We get to the hotel then cut a deal with this guy to pick us up at 4am. Sorry first cabby, you didn’t know where you were going…

We sneak two extra people into our overpriced hotel and enjoy not only the comfy bed and hot shower but also the CABLE MOVIE CHANNEL on the TV in our room. Haven’t seen one of those in like 10 months…

We wake up the next morning and are ready to go and the cab never shows up… we try to use the receptions phone but she will not let us, nor her personal phone. It made me wonder how they can be such a nice expensive hotel and accept Visa and MasterCard yet they don’t let visitors use their phone to do something like find a ride. We offered to pay her yet she still wouldn’t budge. Instead what she did was pick up the phone and call the security guard outside and had him come inside to call a ride for us. Lesson learned: Security guards are always reliable. He called a guy he knew for us and in 20 minutes we were at the bus station comfortably on a Zambia-Malawi bus ready for the leg of the trip that was hell on the way here.