Many Rivers to Cross

And most of them have bridges. (Ignore the posting date above, all this was on Thursday the 28th)

We eventually left Kande Beach relatively early, with about a five hour drive to Blantyre ahead of us. Blantyre is the commercial capital of Malawi, Lilongwe being the seat of Government. As Malawi is so poor there are a lot of aid projects going on to boost the infrastructure. The current craze is for upgrading the bridges, so most of them that we crossed were either brand new or were temporary structures alongside a half built new one. We came to one such set of roadworks and stopped - in the back of the truck we can't see out the front and there is no intercom system, so we often don't know what's going on (half the fun). On this occasion the new bridge was still being built, so we were to cross the dry river bed. Jase had stopped to ponder HOW on Earth he was supposed to get the truck across. After a couple of minutes Kate came round the back to tell us to hang on tight - it was going to get a little bumpy. Needless to say, despite a sizeable run up, we got stuck in the soft sand. All on board the truck were laughing as I guess this is the kind of thing you hear about in Africa - for my part I guess it was one of the things to do on my trip; go on safari, get a tan, get food poisoning, get ripped off in a market, buy souvenirs, get stuck crossing a river. All part of the experience as far as I was concerned. So, we disembarked and surveyed the situation. It turns out that there WAS a temporary bridge, but it had been so shoddily put together that it had collapsed. The workers had then built a 'road' across the river bed which consisted of two lines of rocks for vehicles to negotiate. An articulated lorry had gone across and jackknifed on the way out, blocking the road to anything wider than a minibus, so Jase had tried to go around the outside and got stuck. Hey ho, you have to try.

Well, I've learnt from playing Dungeons and Dragons that when you're in a tight spot, look around if you can and see what materials, alternative routes etc are around. To cut a very long story short, we had to use the sandmats from the truck, chop away half the river bank and build a new 'road' from rocks that I found. All with the 'help' of the builders and several locals who'd shown up in their best football shirts to watch the party. Three hours later we were on our way. We'd had to pay US$100 to the guys for their help, which made me absolutely livid. Firstly, we could have probably done it without them. I found the rocks and us passengers formed a human chain to transport them. All our helpers did was dig a bit and shout and argue. Secondly, why should WE have to pay them? I can understand them getting a 'thank you' payment, but why should WE pay it? What about the incompetent person that built the temporary bridge? Why should he not take responsibility? And what about the jackknifed truck? It turned out that it had been there for four DAYS. I guess this sums up how I'm feeling about Africans at the moment - it seems perfectly acceptable to take no responsibility for your own life or actions, no matter how small or large, from sweeping in front of your house, to dropping litter, to providing good food or service, to governing a country. This irresponsibility seems to be all pervasive and I must admit, very dispiriting. Is this the result of European rule, or does it go further back than that? I'm not looking to apportion blame, just to try and find if not a solution, then just a little hope for the future of this continent.

So we eventually arrived at the campsite in Blantyre - buggered if I'm going to pitch a tent in pouring rain in the dark - time for a dorm room upgrade methinks. We're all shattered from the day's exertions so after a couple of beers and food from the bar, it's bed time. No mosquito net; this could be an interesting night's sleep...