The African brush painted orange, no, ochre. Red dust swirling above the parched landscape made visibility difficult. Yet, in the distance, melding above the clouds and the sandy haze, was the azure African sky. The aeroplane from Johannesburg touched down in Lilongwe, Malawi?s sleepy capital. As in smaller airports, you alight and walk across the tarmac in the midday sun into a waiting bus, to get inside the airport no more than a hundred metres away.
Clearing immigration is relatively painless if you have your papers in order. The small carousel spits out bag after bag, after which you are subject to a search by customs officers. You feel as if you have taken a step back in time. The concept of African Time is alive and well here, and people do not get ulcers from time-related stress. You try to wait patiently to be attended to by one officer, while the rest watch and enjoy a private joke.
Upon exiting into the arrivals area, you are greeted by a cacophony of noise and smells, most of which are not quite pleasant to Western sensibilities. If you have the luxury of being greeted by a local friend, you do not have to work so hard at navigating around the many would-be taxi drivers, porters and apparently well-meaning strangers. Unlike some countries, however, the Malawians are generally less pushy and they will take ?No? as an answer.
Malawians are, by and large, a very nice people: polite, pleasant, well-spoken and hospitable. They are always ready with a smile and a greeting. It is a wonderful feeling to be able to smile and greet back as a matter of courtesy, without the suspicion or wry cynicism we have in the west when it comes to such matters.
I am here on business for all of four days. The schedule is punishing and there is no time for any sightseeing. Regardless, if you open your eyes, you will still be able to encounter and appreciate local culture anywhere.
The hotel I am staying in is large and cheerful. Everything is a little worn and has seen better days. At least, it is clean and the amenities make for a convenient stay. Almost every Malawian employee I encounter is quick to smile and greet me. It is a peaceful country, in general, and everyone is keen to maintain it as so. The country formerly called Nyasaland gained its independence from the British in 1964 under the prime ministry of Dr Hastings Kamuzu Banda. Under the current president, Dr Bingu wa Mutharika, it has undergone a raft of changes and modernisation. In recent years, Malawi has gained international press coverage particularly over Madonna?s efforts to adopt two children, and its harsh penalties for persons convicted of the crime of homosexuality.
All throughout the capital are posters put up by the government reminding Malawians that the traditional practice of ?stunting? is illegal. Stunting, for those of you who are unaware, is literally that – the practice of stopping growth in children. Sometimes this is due to malnutrition from poverty, and othertimes, it is prevalent of a particular culture to be of a certain size and height (a bit like foot binding in old China). Apparently, 41% of Malawian children are stunted, and the government has launched a huge initiative to halve this within the next five years.
Africans love life ? this is apparent aurally as they laugh, joke, and talk their way through their days. The distinct African vowels come across in the English they espouse, adding a musical quality and beat. It is easy for a native English speaker to dismiss this as a pidgin form of the language, but the better-educated Africans can give the English a run for their money. They are more particular with grammar (having been taught that from scratch) and can be even more articulate than your average Englishman. While the accented pronunciation may occasionally floor your attempts at comprehension, when it works, it works beautifully.
Watching a local Malawian tele-drama for instance is quite an interesting experience. Perhaps, the acting may not have been top-notch. The production values are less than Hollywood. The storylines are hackneyed. The dialogue, while being completely unrealistic, is a tour-de-force of the writers? command of the English language. Witness the following conversation exchanged by two protagonists in the above-mentioned drama:
Man: You are stunningly beautiful, my dear.
Woman: Unhand me, you ignorant creature. I do not wish to feel the heat from your dirty paws so much as the breath from your foul, odious mouth. You should crawl back to that pathetic village, or whatever hole you come from.
Man: How is it that a woman as beautiful as you could have such vile, cruel and venomous words on that tongue? Mark my words, you will be mine.
Woman: In your dreams. I would rather die a thousand deaths than to be seen with you. You have no place here. Look at you, a peasant, daring to even compare yourself to me. Take my advice: return to where you belong and stain this school?s reputation no more.
This was prime-time television. And just before this drama was aired, there was a ballroom dancing competition where teams of dancers tried their hand at the samba. The last group was absolutely woeful and it felt painful watching them twirl around the dancefloor. One of the judges didn?t pull any punches. ?Dancing is about expressing joy and freedom of movement. You should be looking relaxed and happy, not like a bunch of hyenas skulking around waiting for a lion?s leftovers.?
Classic!