1980-1982 Malawi

1980-1982 Zomba, Malawi

I arrived in Zomba Malawi in August 1980. I was met by the Headmistress, and Head Nun –Sister O. She was generous at a personal level but the archetypically bossy micromanager - a pain in the neck- but with the redeeming characteristic of not being very bright. This made her easier to cope with. However, she was not a fool and got the better of me in the workplace on more than one occasion.

I was shown to my new bungalow-which I thought was very nice. Of course it wasn’t as nice as the houses of all the other expats in Zomba had –but I didn’t mind that at all. For me it was excellent. There was a  even a servants quarters where I soon installed my tall Muslim houseboy-Austin.

I had a couple of weeks before school so I offered to help with the timetable. In those days I was naive and of course I didn’t realize that the timetable was a poisoned chalice! As soon as school started the complaining about the timetable started and of course I got the blame! I was outraged because I was not directing the timetable-only implementing it. The decisions about who taught what when and where were not mine, a fact which O kept skillfully concealed from the staff.  (I remember Mrs P being enraged with me that Maths was in the afternoon)  The staff turned out to be mainly female –not surprising in a girl’s school. Early on, I remember being surprised by the queue of girls on their knees outside the Principal’s office to see her at breaktime.

The Girls were lovely. It was like paradise. They all said ‘Good morning, Sir’ when I came into the classroom. I adapted quickly to the school.

Socially, most of my time was spent in and around the Zomba Gymkhana Club – the old colonial establishment in town where I could play tennis and golf and have a beer. I quickly met up with an Englishman Rob R, who was one of the first I.B. students from Atlantic College in Wales. The International Baccalaureate became the central plank of my next twenty years. I was IB coordinator in a school in Colombia and in Melbourne. The children all did their IB in Brunei. I have Rob to thank for introducing me to it. Rob was lecturing at the University and he had arrived with nowhere to stay . So, I suggested  he could stay with me until his house was ready. This arrangement worked very well as it gave me some company. Rob was a very pleasant, easygoing chap. He quickly fell in love with a lovely Malawian girl called Agnes who was a student at the University. He bought himself a motor bike and carried Agnes around everywhere on it. I was eventually Rob's best man at their wedding!

In the first year I was mad on tennis. I practiced every day after school and I became quite good-especially in doubles. In fact, I became the doubles partner of the Malawi number one, Mike W – and we played and won many doubles club matches together against other clubs. I don’t think we ever lost! This was of course because Mike was brilliant – not because of me!  He was an outstanding player. But we were the Malawi Number one doubles pair. The ballboys were great –Nelson, I remember in particular. I have just been told by a friend, George M-Roger's ’s Spanish teacher in Brunei who visited Zomba last month, (January 2004) that Nelson is now the head barman and remembers me from that time twenty years ago!

There was were many other Expats in Zomba -man yof who  were pleasant company but not partuclarly inyeresting. Chris C was a more colorful friendly chap but he spent his time cavorting with the girls in the bars-something I probably wanted to do but was too scared and had no idea how to go about it. Some of the white women were scary too-Marjorie B worked with me for 2 years at school but hardly spoke a word to me.  I'm sure it didn't help that I was painfully shy and didn't know how to flirt.

In the second year I tried to do a research project at school with the help of Brother Dostie at Box2 (The boys school) , but in the end O couldn't understand it and wasn't helpful-so I concentrated on my Golf. I started practicing every day and eventually became hooked. It was so cheap –and you had someone to carry the bag! The ‘greens’ were made of sand and you had a wooden implement that looked like a rake which you used to scrape your track to the hole for your Putt. It was quite an art. In the end I became one of the best golfers in the club and played in competitions in Blantyre and Mulanje. By the time I left I had the lowest handicap in the club – it was 9.

Jim W, my friend at the University here in Brunei, was in Malawi with me and he says that I was one of the most bad-tempered golfers he had ever met! So, there you go –I’ve always had a short temper! Apparently he remembers me as foul-mouthed too. But Jim was bit of a tease –come to think of it.

At Christmas of the first year Gibson . F, a friend form my Bristol days and Karen,  his wife came to visit. It was unfortunately raining very hard and Gibson had trouble with the car. We went to the lake and it was very wet and the roads were flooded. On return G contracted an ear infection which laid him very low indeed. This rather spoiled their holiday. Nevertheless, it was good to see them and Austin kept us well fed. I was a bit annoyed with K when she remarked at the weather and when Gibson was sick

“This is the worst holiday we have ever had” Not something to say to one’s host!

Mine was one of two new bungalows: a month or so after my arrival the other ‘Christian Abroad’ arrived in the form of Frank  McC. He came ahead of his wife and three small kids. F was from the north of England and thought he was pretty cool. He was one of those   catholic English with Irish roots who consider themselves to be more Irish than the Irish themselves –and certainly more Irish than me- a protestant from Northern Ireland! He was a pompous little prick and e kept having a go at me about the Northern Irish question.

In retrospect, I think what really annoyed him was that Austin was occupying the servants quarters. He expected , probably with good reason, that Austin should vacate these premises and so that his houseboy could use them. In those days, as a single man who knew everything,  I could not see the importance of such a thing to a newly arrived family. The gnorance of youth. Anyway Frank McC was beside himself with rage and seethed away at me. I think he  took it out on me by baiting me over the Irish question.

It all came to a head one famous afternoon when I went to visit him after school. We ended up having an argument over something – I can’t remember what. But he was sarcastic and supercilious. So, I retaliated and it ended up in a shouting match in which he told me to ‘Get out of the house!’ in front of his wife, who was very embarrassed by the whole thing.

He had two gorgeous little girls and a toddler, Kieran. I can honestly say that he is the only person I can think of in my entire life who has been antagonistic to towards me due to my protestant ethnic roots - that is quite a statement from someone who has lived in Northern Ireland for eighteen years and the Republic of Ireland for five.

Some of the other people I got to know were memorable for better reasons. Honor H was a catholic Glaswegian and was the librarian at the University. She was great fun and the closest to female company that I could get. Mary, the other librarian was very nice too-but temperamental. I had no idea what was going on with her. Then there was Jim W, a golfer –who was lecturing at the university. He turned up twenty years later in Brunei from where I am now writing these recollections.

In the mid-summer break I had a visit from Ken  H, David C, Mum and Dad and Auntie Marjorie! I actually should have been marking bloody exam papers but I didn't realise this  until I had invited all my visitors for July and August. I didn’t go-again this was the arrogance of youth! I don’t think Sister Odelia was very impressed. Anyway I got away with it.

Ken and David were the first to arrive. We set off in my Morris 1300 for the north of Malawi through Lilongwe and then put the car on the ‘Ilala’ boat at Monkey bay for the trip north up Lake Malawi. It was a beautiful trip. David and Ken got on very well. In fact all three of us got on real well. I just loved every moment of this trip. The ‘Ilala’ was a beautiful boat and we went first class. We stopped at Likoma island and went further up to Karonga where we spent the night.

We then drove on to the Nyika plateau which was very high-I think about 6000 feet and it was cold! I remember seeing lots of Zebra and a Jackal.

While  we were were hunting warthogs in the car,  to the amusement of David and I, K suddenly shouted for us to stop the car. The next thing K had opened the back door of the car and had rolled out into the bush and disappeared from our view - stalking a warthog through the grass . What was so funny was that he was dressed in army battle fatigues and he looked like a modern day terrorist! This was in 1982 and so there was no problem. But he looked like an SAS man! David and I couldn’t contain our laughter for several minutes at the site of him stalking the warthog through the bush.

We went up the twisty road to Livingstonia and then came back down through Rumphi to Mzuzu and Lilongwe. We then crossed the border into Zambia. I remember we had a little trouble at the immigration post . The bloke wanted to send us back because we didn’t have cholera injections. I didn’t realize at the time that this was the African way of looking for a bribe and so I had one of my legendary spats with bureaucrats to the embarrassent (and perhaps just a little bemusement) of my two chums. He eventually let us through with a promise to go to the nearest hospital in Zambia to have the shots.

We didn’t of course. We headed into the Luangwa valley and arrived at the camp. It was fabulous. We had very civilised huts with good mosquito nets and the food was great. There were hippos everywhere in the river. Next day, we set off walking in a little group of about five with a guide and a ‘bambo’ to cook our food. (Cornflakes for breakfast!)

David C was having problems with his camera and I remember the moment very well when we were stalking a Rhino and David ,who was behind me, said

“ Tumbled to it, D.W.!”

“ What”? I said.

“I know what’s wrong with the camera”

He had lost all the photos of the trip up until that point!

We saw buffalo and elephant and Kudu and lots of hippo. On the way out of the park we saw a Lion kill of baby elephant. The Luangwa valley was very dry and the driving was fun-a bit hair-raising for my two companions at times. The truth is I don’t know what we would have done if we had had trouble. Once again the ignorance and arrogance of youth had saved us. ‘Ignorance is bliss’!

Later in the summer I also went with David and Ken to the shire Valley with the school. I remember having to stop the school bus because of a Python crossing the road!

The trips to Mulanje mountain were also memorable. The forestry huts were at about 6000 feet and it took the whole day to get up the first one–Chambe hut. I went several times. The huts were basic but clean and well maintained with a ‘Bambo’ to tend the fire and wash the dishes! The idea was to walk from hut to hut each day through the most magnificent scenery with sparkling fresh rivers and streams everywhere. It was cool at night –magnificent!

Zomba plateau was itself superb and I went up regularly to Kuchawe Inn and walked on the forestry trails-and up the river beds.

It was an idyllic existence really. But as usual I managed to convince myself that it wasn’t! In retrospect what more could I really have wanted? I had a beautiful house; (By now, I was sharing with Rob in his University house) a beautiful environment-wonderful teaching –a good social life; golf, tennis, cheap beer; money! The list just goes on and on…

But no, I convinced myself that I deserved more! I think the truth was I couldn’t see myself finding a companion for life in Africa. Although I loved the Africans I did not meet any I could consider as soulmates. Moreover the female expats were even less appealing –they were all , like myself, so demanding, and complicated!

So, I started looking around for things to do next. I got the idea of doing a Masters in Education from some of my golfing friends and I started to look for a course to do in the UK. I applied to Manchester University and was very generously given a grant by APSO (Agency for Personal Service Overseas) in Dublin to study my Masters. It was worth three thousand pounds – a lot of money in those days!

Malawi was a wonderful time for me but as usual there were difficult times. The arrival of the ‘Christians Abroad’ representative –Miss T was an unexpected disappointment. She was stuffy and critical of the way I had handled some things at school without being specific. (I now suspect not doing the marking in the vacation may have been a problem). She seemed content with my decision to leave Malawi. I was furious and wrote her a letter which may have given me some satisfaction at the time of writing but didn't really help my cause at all. I have been such writing letters all  my life.  Hopefully, they have improved a bit!

Miss T of course didn’t realize just how incompetent Sister O really was. I found myself on the defensive and I decided to leave at the end of my two year contract. After all I could pretty much get a job when and where I liked couldn’t I? The world was at my feet …..or so I thought.

The next stop was Manchester. Within a year I was in Mexico and had proposed to Maria in Spanish. It was 'Goodbye' to Africa for a while and 'Hello' to  Latin America!