The Porter’s race, The Waterfall, Meeting Mike the guide and his family.

The Porter’s race is a gruelling fourteen and a half mile race in a circuit that goes most of the way up Mulanje mountain and down again in a big sweeping curve. The Mulanje Porters are the guys who go up the mountain leading large and small groups of tourists whilst carrying all their gear for them. When I went up to Hope’s Rest, a CCAP Hut just before a steep rocky climb to the summit many of them did this barefoot, carrying one pack on their back and another on their front. They are very strong and resilient and were specially supportive of me as a 57 year old woman who was not particularly fit! Jeff has done a lot of long distance running and has been in training for this since January. He was going to do it with Vince, his long term friend but Vince had to return to the UK for family reasons and so he was bravely continuing alone. We drove from Blantyre to Mulanje in a couple of hours. The road was the same as my trip to the Catholic University at first, going through Limbe and Bangwe before we passed the turn for the university and followed the sign for Mulanje. It was sunny but hazy. We could see blue mountains in the distance and we watched the vegetation get greener and the housing get more wide-spaced as we motored along. After a while Mulanje became visible in the distance and gradually became more distinct as we got nearer. The haze lifted and by the time we were close the colours of the mountain were bright in the late afternoon sunshine. Of course this meant that we did not see the weather conditions that give this mountain its alternative name of ‘The Island in the sky’. This illusion happens when the top of the mountain is in sunshine and the bottom is cloaked in clouds when it truly looks liken island floating above the clouds. I have been fortunate enough to see this once in four visits, but not this time. In Mulanje town we passed the famous pizza restaurant I visited 12 years ago and turned left to follow the base of the mountain through the tea estates towards Likubula where we were booked into a CCAP Lodge, posh enough to be booked in dollars! The tea bushes manage to look dark green underneath but bright yellowish green where the sun is reflected off the shiny leaves at the top. The colour combination is startlingly bright. The backdrop of the mountain with the browns and greys of rock and the greens of quite dense woods at the bottom of the slopes was stunning, and all was bathed in the glow of the late afternoon sun. We checked into our lodge which is in the National Park and spreads for several hundred yards down the right hand side of a mud road that sets off up the mountain. Reception and the dining area are at the top of the hill and we had chalets quite a bit further down so there was a bit of a climb to work up an appetite for each meal. There were two different schools from the UK staying in the lodge, one of which had visited Beehive earlier in the week. It was definitely an azungu place. I saw more white people in an hour over supper than I have seen in the entire 5 weeks I have been in Malawi. Jeff got up very early to go and register for the race. Bhavna and I left the house at the more civilised hour of 7 o’clock and were just in time to see him set off in a field of less than a hundred runners. To cut a long story short the first runners, who were all Porters, were back down the mountain having run the full course in just under 2 hours. Jeff took his time. He said much of the course was very difficult to run at all and very rough underfoot, but it was well way-marked with huge chalked arrows and he never felt lost although he was alone with the mountain for much of the time. He made it safely back down again having covered the whole course, tired, achy but satisfied and having enjoyed every minute on the mountain. I take my hat off to him! Bhavna and I wandered about around the start of the race people-watching and admiring the Malawian ability to have fun without spending much money. A festival was to happen later in the day and people were setting up stalls selling all manner of snacks and other items. There were to be beer tents and a stage for free music, apparently funded by the government. Malawi TV was present albeit on a small scale compared to the British equivalent at a festival but there was one small van full of equipment and a team of staff. We went back up to the lodge for breakfast and planned to walk up to the waterfall and be back at the bottom in time to see Jeff return. He said he thought he would be 4-5 hours. After breakfast we decided it would be prudent to get a guide. We have both been up to the waterfall before but not for a while and although the way is fairly direct there are a few turns and we did not fancy being lost on the mountain. We had lingered over breakfast and the sun was rather high in the sky by the time we left at about 10,00am. Mike the guide led us up the steep road above the lodge. It was rough underfoot and we climbed steadily. The views were beautiful, every shade of green you can imagine, clear blue sky, bright sunlight, the brown of tree trunks, terracotta soil and a few bright flowers, but not that many. We saw birds, lizards and butterflies, all the varieties I saw the week before on the Way of the Cross but several others besides, including a large black one with bright blue patches on the wings. There were a few vervet monkeys at the bottom near the lodge but we didn’t see any more on the climb. We had warned Mike that we would be slow. He was very considerate, walking in front and showing us the way. He knew when we had stopped without turning round, he must have been listening to our footsteps, and paused and waited for us to be ready to begin again. We finally reached the waterfall after about an hour and a half. Most people say it takes about an hour. When we arrived there were about thirty people there including a Moslem woman of about my age who I had a little chat with. We congratulated ourselves about making it in the heat! Some lads were swimming and diving off a huge rock into the pool at the base of the waterfall which Mike told us is 65 metres deep. We sat with our feet in the water which was utterly delightful after the walk up in the heat. Bhavna got right into the water fully clothed. It was so hot she was soon dry again. We made the return journey down the far side of the river. On the way we saw several people, men and women, with large bundles of sticks on their heads, heading determinedly down the mountain. Mike got chattier on the way down and by the time we got back to our chalet we were quite friendly. We paid him his money and went for a rest and a shower. After an hour or so we ventured out again to follow the sound of the music to the festival a few hundred yards down the road at the place where the race had started By this time Jeff was back and was resting in an armchair on his khonde, tired but happy he had made it round the whole course. It took him almost 7 hours. At the festival we encountered Mike again in a clean white T-shirt enjoying the entertainment. He found us a good place to watch the music and we got chatting again. To cut a long story short Bhavna asked him if he lived in a local village and he said ‘Ten minutes away’ in response to which Bhavna asked him if we could visit his home and he said, ‘Yes, let’s go,’ so we did! I asked if he was married and had children and he was, and had a seven year-old boy called Winston and a baby girl. We had only walked about a hundred yards further when he stopped where a group of women were selling homemade snacks and drinks by the side of the path and introduced us to them. We walked on through the festival crowds and off between small fields, mostly growing pigeon peas, but also maize and vegetables. It took us at least half an hour to to reach his home which he showed us with pride. It was very small, dark and bare. A mat and cushions were the only furniture in the living area. There was a bedroom barely bigger than a single mattress where he and his wife slept with the baby and the little boy slept in a room that was hardly more than a cupboard. Outside there were two brick cubicles for cooking and washing and round the back a latrine. We did not stop for long but took a few photos and turned back as the sun was by now quite low on the horizon. The mountain was bathed in a warm orange glow. He walked us all the way back. I gave him a little money and said “Buy a new dress for your wife’ and his face lit up. ‘I will do that’ he said. Next morning we saw him briefly again and he said his wife had gone shopping. He was looking for more work as a guide. I did a bit of tourist shopping at the curios stalls and then it was time to head back to Blantyre, via the pizza place of course! Monday was a working day. I spent it at Mitsidi trying to make sense of the Government of Malawi syllabus for ECD. I think I got there in the end and have put together a training to teach the CC workers how they can use it to help with their teaching and also to prepare them for the fact that we will have to change our assessment system for children’s progress that I wrote to fit with the 2003 syllabus. The ‘new’ one is 2017 but the Children’s Centre is still using it as there is very little printed material available on the new one. This will be along job which will have to wait until I get home. I hope we shall be able to start using it in September so that we will not have to make the change half way through the academic year.