TManTrek.Com: Terry Lynch's Trip Around the World

Welcome to the third poorest nation in the world with some of the best scenery in Africa. After pushing hard for a days through the rest of Zambia, our convoy came to Chikal beach on the shores of Lake Malawi. This little slice of heaven was just what our weary bodies needed, cheap ($2 night) accomodations right on the beach, inexpensive beer, and other horizon chasers to share stories with. One of these people came in the form an American known as Doc.

Doc was a former Marine Medic during the Vietnam War who suffered from post- tramatic stress disorder, he called it "shell shock". He spent most of his time drinking, spewing into obnoxious political debates, and explaining to everyone how he spends his government disability check on travel and prostitutes. It was good to see a fellow American, my first in weeks, but this was a bit over the top. Doc soon was kicked off the beach because he would get into loud arguments, with himself, at 3 am.

One particular night we heard of a Reggae concert taking place outside of town. About 8 of us climbed into Mary and found ourselves parked outside a warehouse, surrounded by Africans simply staring at the "mosungus". James was a bit worried about leaving Mary unguarded. I ventured off and found a security guard armed with a machine gun. He slowly circled Mary, and nodded indicating he would watch her for us. Machine gun or not, James wisely chose not to risk it, so only Stuart, myself, and a girl we met named Sophie stayed on.
Instead of bouncers, there were large men armed with machine guns. One would think this would provide the needed intimidation to subdue any roudy behavior, apparently not. During the concerts about 7-8 brawls broke out in the audience. The armed guards would rush in and start dragging bodies out. It was all kinda scary, but added to the chaos I was enjoying.

Once inside the scene was memorable, swarms of sweaty people in a tin box jumping and dancing to the rastafarian on stage. We were met with stares as "mzungu" entered the warehouse, but all in all people are friendly. We recognized some inebrated locals from the beach. They would begin each day selling trinkets on the beach but end up playing soccer or volleyball with us. They knew me as "Snoop" because of the T-shirt I wore. I believe there is some unwritten rule in Africa were a drunk African can demand anything he wants, and this always seemed to be me. It started off with pleasantries, then turned to demands for alcohol and paying for their entrance fees. One cocky little SOB even threatened me for not buying him a beer. I was quick to subdue the tensions by using the term "beatdown" in my retort.

This was a small lesson that Vicki and I spoke about often and I will reflect upon later in my African chapter.

Tanzania

One thing you never want to hear on a road trip is "Your Chassi snapped in half.". Its bad news, and we were in the town on Mbeya, just north of the Malawi border. We first heard this at a Land Rover Dealership, and the Manager was licking his chops as he quoted us 80,000 shillings ($80 USD). Staring at Mary, wounded but not broken, I had no idea what something like this should cost. Stuart negotiated with him for $50, then we decided to find another mechanic. One thing for certain in Africa (example on the tobacco farm), that labor is cheap. We found a mechanic who would do it for $10 - deal.

Breaking down always develops interesting stories. While Mary was being worked on, we spent most of the day playing soccer with the local kids. I tried to teach them basketball but they were all hopeless (seems kinda ironic), but they smoked me in soccer. I walked into town with James to buy some spare parts. Spotting a tourist info sign, I ventured inside to see what the area offered. I walked in and the man behind the desk was sleeping. After a few loud footsteps he was startled awake, trying to figure out why anyone would be in the tourist office. He greeted me, and frankly asked how I ended up in his town. In telling him that our car broke down he laughed and said that is how everyone ends up in Mbeya. He then told me the fastest/safest route to the Ngorongoro Crater, 3 days drive.

If anyone has ever watched a National Geographic episode on Africa, then you have seen the Ngorongoro Crater. Formed from a sunken volcano in the Serengeti, the crater is almost 50 miles in diameter with walls 500 m high, and it happens to house the most abundent wildlife on the continent.

Problem was the entrance fee was an obnoxious $50 per person! I was enraged seeing this price because they’re argument is the money goes towards the preservation of the animals, but every day you would read about the rapid corruption in the Parks and all the ministers lining their pockets. Richard Leaky, who discovered the oldest skeleton in the world, was hired to "uncover" corruption in the National Parks. His report found evidence that not only was corruption evident, but top officials were involved. His reward for a ground breaking report, he was fired. Well I wasn’t going to stand it anymore, so in honor of Richard Leaky we decided to sneak in.

The plan was for Vicki to hide in the back of Mary, and myself under the tarp on top. James and Stuart’s job was to look inconspicuous, cause I didn’t feel like going to jail. After some tense minutes we were in the park, Victory! We were supposed to pay an extra fee for driving into the crater also. To add to our vigalante attitude, we skipped that process and headed down.

The crater floor is amazing. Herds of zebra, wilderbeast, and the occasional elephant (one almost flattened Mary) on all sides of you. I noticed some Maasi people herding goats in the distance. The Maasi are the nomads in Africa who still stick to the traditional ways, except for the fact that a boy must kill a lion to become a man may be frowned upon by the government. As I was taking photos another Maasi man came forward to the truck. He was holding an impressive spear, which I’m told is used to protect the flock from lion. I pointed to the spear and gave him a "thumbs up".

"Nice spear."
He then handed it to me, and shouted "Ten Thousand Shillings!" ($10)
I was shocked. Was I about to corrupt the local nomad by buying his weapon that protects his defenseless flock? Not for ten bucks!
"Five Thousand!" I shouted back. We shook hands, and in the blink of an eye I was holding a deadly weapon purchased from one of the oldest living tribes in the world.

Five minutes later I felt guilty, because just down the road lied the "King of the Jungle", and I bet my spearless friends flock of goats looked mighty appetizing. The lion seemed docile as we crept forward for a better view, perhaps he just ate - ate goat. Shortly after the lion Vicki spotted a Black Rhino in the distance, our "Big 5" sighting has been accomplished.

The "Big 5" represents top trophies the White Hunter’s would seek around the turn of the century. Lion, Leopard, Wilderbeast, Rhino, and Elephant. Now I could leave Africa with at least something accomplished.

Africa Part V: Kenya
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