Malawi – white and black world. To give money to Africa or not to give

They say people ask for money in Africa. In Zambia kids and grown ups looked at us with curiosity. They might have not had a clear idea what on earth we are doing by just traveling, but never asked for anything.

Tolumoje tolumoje Malavio ežeras. | In the far far distance Lake Malawi.

Arriving to the one of the least developed countries in the world, we perhaps had to expect something different to happen. But not as soon, not even before entering Malawi. The official who sorts out the documents at the border calls his boss to inquire about this or that, something he should have known himself. But for him it perhaps was the job of the year, so he started somewhat painfully mew that Easter is coming and we might want to help him with something. ‘Religion doesn’t allow us’. Well, if it doesn’t then yeah.. The last time we have been asked so openly to contribute personally to policemen coffee break, it was in Kirghistan, when they caught us after sitting on the grass in the middle of the city.

Sveciuose pas Grifina. | Visiting Grifin.

Hundred meters later the money begging marathon begins. ‘Give me my money’ the kid screams, surrounded by another six. The world famous cyclist around the world A. Humphreys while on his ride through Ethiopia after having experienced something similar made jokes that he might be old fashion, but good morning it is still the polite way to greet each other. We ask why they need that money. The answers from here on start to vary. The shepherd wants coca cola, kids desperately need biscuits, a guy needs a new roof, a school would be happy to receive some scholarships, and a happy fisherman would be so much happier somewhere in Europe. Even in cold Lithuania we guess. We are walking white ATM machines, who could deliver some cash here and there. To make Malawi happy. Or is not? We shall try to sum up our impressions rightly and peel one layer after another down till the core. Why Malawi is still sick, and does he need medicine, or would he be able to recover itself. We will share not only our observations but give some other people’s accounts too.

Griffin – we need business opportunities

After being picked up on the way towards Malawi lake from Lilongwe, Griffin has been the first one to get deep down into conversation what Malawi problem is after all.

Kaimas kalnuose. | Village in the mountains.

Griffin works for Go!Malawi organisation funded by USA and offering scholarships to talented young people. He was telling us ‘when we came to the region we had a hard time working with the community. We offered them education opportunities instead of just doling out cash like previous Scottish people did. So we are the bad ones. It has been hard to bring them to understanding we have other options for them’. Malawi has been getting donations for entire of his independent existence, and the situation did not improve. So you just start wondering what is the problem. It seems that the government is happy not to have educated intelligent people. The gray population should rather be uniformed, peaceful and nice, but oblivious to the situation. People end up not working as they do not see any need for that. Why to work if the western organisation or government will come and sort all the problems. ‘We need business opportunities like they do in Mozambique or Ethiopia, but not donations. Some charity organisations get the money but spend 75% of the budget on administration, and only the rest goes to community. Like the previous administrator instead of spending Go! Malawi money for the orphanage is in the parliament now, as the money served well to make a nice political campaign and get a good car’ Griffin tells.

Evelina & Edna

You would think, that if people do not want to work maybe they don’t need money. But they want to get rich, so then witchcraft comes in hand. The go to the witches and are ready to do what he or she orders them to: to sleep with their children or parents, dig out the dead ones or mutilate an albino. Instead of working hard some powers should come and help. So either western world or witchcraft. But what about their own dignity and the joy of the work, however socialist it might sound.

Džiovinamas tabakas, viena iš kelių pagrindinių pajamų šaltinių. | Drying the tobaco leaves. It is one of the few local people money incomes.

Griffin offers us to stay for a day in one of the organisations tiny houses, and we can rest our eyes down the hills and Malawi lake in the distance. A day later we decide to continue our journey by walking the unpopular no tarmac path knowing the fact that the cars will be a rare thing to witness. Walking through the villages might give us a better feeling of how really people live.

Our Malawian day to day life

Eighty percent of Malawians live in the village, so the country being so cute in size, even the bushes were densely populated with small communities, clay houses and hay roofs. You only need to step away from tarmac road and you will find yourself fully submerged in the rural life.

Arbatos ir bulkos užkąst į kaimo arbatinę. | Tea and bread break to the small tea house by the road.

We walk in to the tea room in one of those small communities. The cement house with some shelves holding loaves of bread and plastic cups and plates. The owner soon pours us Chombe sweet tea and breaks the best part of the white bread. We are utterly relaxed and happy as if we have drank the best latte or eat the fancy cake somewhere in the big city coffee shop. The people under the shed look inside in as they curious but pretend to continue their table (or better to say bench) games. Some kids are looking at us from afar. We continue our journey buying some local bananas or tomatoes on the road and passing one of those well fenced pubs where locals go to drink some beer.

We stop at the tobacco leave dry sheds. The women sit around sorting the leaves, and the guy hangs them out in the shed. Tabacco here is the green god, the most exported good to outside world. Unfortunately, locals complain, the Europe and States do not smoke as much, so they loose the business.

Vaikai vaikai vaikai.. | Kids kids kids...

If one kid spies that azungu passing the village he would run screaming on the top of his lungs and we can see now how the tribes ages ago might have been able to communicate. The echo waves through the village, so now kids coming out of bushes, houses, corners and nowhere, and then it all starts. Whats your name, can you give me money, We are not talking about couple kids, we talk about crowds and crowds. We might not sound very loving here, but couple days later we are exhausted from the attention and after hearing another azungu our mind just goes blank. In the evening they help us mount our tent, our personal house they might have never seen before. Once we even employed a local teacher and a policeman to mount it up. ‘Kids will disappear after dark’ he reassures us as they would follow every step of our unpacking and stay there as long as it gets dark. From the early morning they right here to observe our morning routine. Lets just say that community life means no privacy and space, but then there is some charm enveloped in that too.

We continue our journey. The previous days the walk down the hills got on us pretty hard. We looked rather like robots not oiled for some time, so every time we rose on our feet we looked rather old, and elderly village men were overtaking us and waving youthfully back. Ok, we have heavy loads on our back, so we don’t feel so down. Or at least that is how we try to cheer ourselves up. The midday sun is aggressive, so by the end of the refreshing sunset you feel a bit exhausted.

Kalnuose. | In the mountains.

During one of the frequent breaks to stop under the tree and have a rest, a guy cycles by and he (as hundreds of others) wants to know who we are and all that stuff. We are walking. Oh, sorisorisori he moans. How can I help you. He ends up cycling home, bringing a bowl of peanuts and giving it us. Oh that is a surprise. After all this being a cash sack we were looked at differently. He didn’t show his teeth so we could chip in with some cash to fix them, he did not ask to put a roof, to bring to Europe or to get him a passport. In fact he was the noble one to offer what he has. ‘I’d like to stay with you longer but im off to the funeral’.

Indeed the road seemed to get packed with people. Women were carrying plates wrapped in colourful patterned scarves on their heads, and men walked separately in small packs. We soon came across a household where all the villagers gathered as one of their community members passed away. So the yard was filled with steaming pots of sima (maize porridge) and vegetables, and meat perhaps as they only eat meat during the festivity time. We sat not far from the house where men and women were singing songs. Being a silent witness of the rural life was one of the best (not the easiest) experiences. You come to a point where you actually feel you are in a different reality, and you are not going to get out of there.

Smalsios moterys nešančios skalbinius. Neįtikėtina kiek ir ko jos gali panešti ant savo galvų - nuo maišo apelsinų iki ilgų ilgų lentų namui. | Women carying the washed clothes. It is increadible how much they can carry on their heads.

Those days of walk made us into soft cripples, and when we heard the car sound from afar, we decided it is the time to hitch. Father Fernando, Spanish missionary who stayed in Africa longer part of his life than back in Europe, not only gave us a lift. We also stayed in his place, had meals together and had a chat what is the situation in Kenya, as he has been living there for those twenty years, hence being fresh in Malawi. ‘What are the issues out there’ we inquire. ‘AIDS is huge as everywhere else, and thanks to myths the situation is not improving as rapidly as one might wish. But sexual and moral education seem to help people understand more about themselves’. Father gives us the contacts of where he used to live in Kenya, sister Grace gives us a huge hug, and the next day we set off to the road. North alongside the lake of Malawi. We keep on walking when the road is empty, and jump on the back of the truck to move those couple or twenty kilometres. But we feel moving.

Clarissa – Peace Corp volunteer: ‘There are two solutions to save Malawi’

Malavio Ezeras | Lake Malawi

‘Are you walking to fund raise money?’ asks Bob Marley’s copy all smiling and happy. ‘Ah, nah, we are traveling on our own, just to travel. We are a bit of egoists we guess’. ‘Oh no, those who do the walking do little good for the country’ made a comment Klarissa, a Peace Corps volunteer living here in this country for nearly two years. She has been finding it hard to start with as the male health specialist at first would not even thought to take her as some sort of good asset to a team. Women here are of lower species. After all this time she has spent here, she feels she could helped like fifty people only. Living as a part of community helped her to be supported psychologically, as the others working purely with projects were often down to achieve fast results.
‘We have heard and read that some authors and journalists are against the all sorts of organisations who only can do more harm than good. Is that the case, according to your observation and experience?’ She could see many of those organisations building all sort of houses and leaving them empty, and so the meant-to-be school going

So what would the solution for Africa be then? Clarissa has two options in mind. Either stop donations entirely, and surely it will lead into quite a big disaster for a while. But then people would wake up and start doing things on their own. Or change the education system. For the government is so useful now to have a society which is calm and peaceful, but not understanding where the problem lies. Also, to show it’s handy to show the donor countries, how poor people are and how needy is the country in money. So the vicious circle never ends. And like fifty years ago people keep on saying how poor is the Africa. But the land is fertile, and things are possible to grow and do.

Crock from Zimbabwe: ‘If you lived there you would think like I do’

Mus kelyje pavežėjęs Zimbabvės baltasis rodo savo vaikams kaip gimsta guma. | A man from Zimbabwe that gave us a lift showing his two kids how the rubber is born.

‘Jump in, Ill give you a ride to Nkhata bay’. Further than that. That day we made it even more North, to Nyika plateau with Crock and his two boys. We managed to visit rubber factory on the way, see the hot springs (locals have not had made it into business yet), and splendid views of Northern Malawi – mountains and valleys.
Crock has come from Zimbabwe, where he was born and raised. Now he has come with his kids to visit Malawi, as the situation in Zimbabwe is getting rough. Just some years ago his family was thrown out of their land. ‘We bought the land, we didn’t steal or anything, we took mortgages to build things and gain profit. But Mugabe let the people simply come and destroy all we had. So one day they just had to leave, and everything that has been left behind, was destroyed – houses, machinery’. They had 1000 cows and 3000 ostriches. Then they had to start from the scratch, but it seems the new business seems to be threaten once again. Mugabe totally wants to get rid of whites. ‘I guess every white would start feeling something similar if they arrived there and went through the same thing’.
Talking about these painful issues Crock came up with the idea to visit rubber factory somewhere away from the road. Amazing, we have just seen how the rubber trees been cut and white liquid accumulates in cups, and now we see the entire process of the rubber been in the acid water looking like fetta cheese, then going through the drying time in some smoky rooms.

Džiovinama guma. | Drying the rubber.

One really good thing what Crock us taught about was the Bilharzia, some bacteria can be found in Malawi lake. We swam in the lake twice so we better take the pills against it. According to him, there are sort of worms that can get into the organism through your under nails, and can make lot s of harm. He had the problem himself. So we quickly dropped in to the local pharmacy to get the number of pills (according to your weight) and do it all in once in few week time to avoid the danger. Apparently the bacteria is caused by locals pissing in the water. Nice one.

We said goodbye to Crock just at the turn to Livingstonia. Nyika plateau has its splendour, but that means that the banks of lake will be touristy. We find a school nearby, and so the usual business asking whether we can stay in the yard. The headmaster seems a very intelligent person, even knowing that Lithuania used to be a part of USSR as he learned that in the primary school. The deputy was a nice guy too, but we guess we fall into the same trap. We are white so eventually we will be asked for contacts in Europe or dollars for kids scholarships. Whether we are interesting? Not really, as we are not carrying cash with us. We are invited for a dinner, and thats a lovely thing. But knowing that this is made with a special intention just brings us back a nostalgia for Asian times, where people used to host us with no intention of getting something back from it.

Fredd and Happy: don’t give us money

‘This is the first time I’m taking a white person for free. I can allow myself to do it’ says a driver Fred. After having asked a usual question of how is Malawi, they start a discussion about how a kwacha (Malawian money) is getting more and more devalued, and so economy goes down. So whats the solution, we ask for Malawi to get up from the ditch and finally be independent in their process of development. ‘Don’t give us money’ we just looked between ourselves and nodded the heads. It seems more intelligent people realize what is the problem. ‘It’s in our heads now, that we don’t need work because why would you need work if a white person will come and give us something’. The education would help. The final stroke of conclusion stuck in our minds.

Kalnais link Tanzanijos. | Over the mountains towards Tanzania.

Malawi involved heavily in all possible ways. We walked the roads less travelled and saw people’s lives from very close. Sometimes we got into sincere and honest discussions about how Malawi could go beyond the donations, and often we were seen as a way to get more prospered. We started with an official and kids asking for money, and finished the part with some local people saying that whites should not give the money. Despite all facts discussed above we have noticed that Malawians are happy people… Will they get happier by having more things in the form of prosperity, we don’t know. I guess we will fall back into the same old discussion what is happiness after all.

Zambia – milky beer, witches and marasmus

Having received Zambian visa ironically easily, after all back-and-forth flights over Atlantic, we finally made it to Africa. We have been waiting for it so desperately, and now crawling into the waiting area of Lusaka airport, we dropped our backpacks and ourselves onto the benches. So what is next. Have to put ourselves together and finally go out there where we wanted to be. We just couldn’t imagine getting ourselves into the capital chaos anymore, so directed exactly opposite way. Out to villages and lonely roads. Hitch hiking here is not a big deal, we are soon crammed with locals on the back on the truck, all under the wood and among sacks of maize and loaves of bread. Soon we learn here about the farmer’s countless family, local life, ups and downs.

Gražūs ir linksmi pasirodė pirmieji Afrikiečiai. Mus pavėžinusi moteris. | Pretty and happy Zambians from the first minutes. The lady that gave us a lift.

The roads cars and police people

A young lady of businesswoman posture quickly waves to get in. After having reached ten kilometre distance, the police stops us. It seems this profession could be described similarly in many countries using the same tricks and needs, let it be Russia, Columbia or the village of Africa. Fines do not exist here, only bribes depending how sinful you were at the moment of the act. Debora cannot find her driving license in her wallet, and that could get her into big financial trouble. ‘I terribly don’t want to pay them’ she sounds desperate, so the entire car team is in search of the document. It was found soon under the seat, which causes a deep relief sigh.
But many policemen on our way will be creative in being suspicious even in the fact, that ‘how on earth is possible, that the black gives a lift to a white person’. But so far we are not a trouble for ourselves neither to a driver. So far.

Visi labai smalsūs ir norintys pašnekėti. | Everyone very curious and wanting to chat.

After such a rusty beginning Deborah is happy to chat about the poor rights of Zambian women, who are not able to own the land, and the rest of the issues. She works with American organisation, so for this moment the issues will be looked after. The Zambian women will be neglected as soon as the funding will run out.

This is going to be the first night on African soil. Every time after getting to a new continent or even a country, new questions arise, how we are going to find the calm place to rest. Locals warn immediately – there are lots of national parks, which means there are hyenas, lions and elephants which can cause problems. We guess the gas against the bear would not be enough against the lion. So we decide to stay closer to villages. And after first successful night staying close to the park officers homes, we get into routine of staying close to the schools, churches, and local home gardens. It gives us a bit of an insight how local live and have a chat with them.

Witchcraft

Į kadrą įsėlinęs driežiukas. | Lizard crossing the street.

After hearing our unpractical offer to get the truck cabin for free, the drivers just looked us giving us an impression of ‘what on earth you think you are talking about’. But after a moment they stopped again, and a hand waved to us, meaning get in.’When I looked through the mirror at Karolis surprised face, I thought why not to help you. Money comes money goes.’ So we continue our couple hundreds journey with those drivers transporting white beer to the villages.

‘There is a joke’ Wezzy tells, ‘that if your friend is sick, you go to the witch, she gives something to drink or so, and then your friend is healthy again. You might think, that this is a joke, but in reality people still heavily rely on witchcraft despite the fact that education and church have a certain part in their lives. ‘Look at those trees, they are called mooleza, the leaves of those trees are used for every sort of treatment. They even heal STDs and AIDS. People don’t use condoms here, they are afraid of cancer that condoms may give. AIDS after all is a curse, so you better go to the witch to be treated. What is the advice she might give? Maybe go and sleep with a virgin eight year old girl. And if the husband dies, certainly his brother will take his place, to take away the curse. It doesn’t matter that the husband might have died from AIDS.

Žmonės maistą šildosi anglimis, kurias patys pasidaro iš vietos krūmų. Kodel ne pačius krūmus degina taip ir nesupratom. | People make their food by burning coal that they made from the surrounding bushes.

And if in the city you don’t know the local witch, you only need to look into the newspaper ads page:

Dr. Rashid from Malawi is in Zambia to solve all your problems 100% natural, you can choose the partner of your choice the same day result. Pay after success. Call 0972…

Dr. Chinyama 45 years experience will bring back lost lovers within hours, enlargment of man organ, financial. call….

Have you tried every where for help and failed: The solution is mama Faith, a woman with experience of 25 years in herbs that can solve and women problem with same day results pay after success mama Faith.

Ads from Post newspaper March 14, 2013

Even if Wezzy and Chuck are a bit silent at first, later you can hardly stop their chatter. The road is even as a table – the gift from China. The valleys and mountains are all snoozing in the heat, and the the breeze gets briefly through the window.

Milky beer

‘You probably will tell everyone and write that the truck drivers here drink strong alcohol with coca cola while they drive’, laughed they after opening yet another cocktail bottle under-covered as a simple coke bottle. Even the most complicated turns don’t seem to bother them. In fact, the alcoholics are on every corner here, called chackolua. They normally drink white beer, which looks rather like milk than the beer. The first time we saw guys with cartons in their hands, thought they drank milk, its just that it have a strange effect on them, they can hardly form a sentence. Its chibuku, according to the others, a horrible taste beer made from maze, yeast and sorghum.

Naktis mokyklos bibliotekoje. Pietų ir Centrinėje Amerikoje miegodavom šalia degalinių, o čia mokyklos kiekviename kaimelyje, tad visada esame maloniai priimami. | Night in a school's library. In Central and South Americas we slept close to gas or police stations, but here schools are at every bigger village, so we are welcomed everytime for a stay.

The truck slows down, until it stops completely. The driver preys on the police. If they are there, two of us will need to get out. If there are more than two people in the cabin, it means the driver gets extra cash. And that has to be divided between him and the official. As we don’t give any money to the driver – ant that would be unheard to the official – we need to reduce the number of the passengers. So one of us and the driver help walk through the little town.

Walking through the village you can observe the fans of the white beer society and loud woman selling fish and other things in the kiosks. Some compassion wave follows us. Nianja language is still like a bubbling pot for us, so the drivers helper explains the content of the sorry sorry sorry and of what follows. They inquire whether the mosquitoes were after me. Huh, how to explain that might be them or bugs in Brasil caught up and made those nicely lined awful bubbles on the hands and legs. To explain the trip becomes harder and harder, so we only tell we are on the way home to Europe by land.

Marasmus

Bibliotekoje: Marasmus - kūno išsekimas dėl maisto trūkumo. Simptomai: Visada alkanas, plonos išvaizdos, nervingo žvilgsnio, didelis pilvas ir seno žmogaus veidas.

Wuzzy and Chuck go very slowly as they stop now in every village to supply it with the desired chubuku. So after finally seeing a school in the distance, we decide to get out. The sun was setting and we needed to pitch the tent before the dark comes. The random guy comes to us and promises to lead us till the school, and so rightly does it. The school teachers listen attentively what on earth we are doing in this gods forgotten village, and instead of allowing to pitch the tent in the garden, they offer us a heart of the knowledge – the library. The school teachers houses are as good cement quality like school which you can distinguish from the mortal ones. To a job teachers go like to a special event, all dressed up in silk attire. We guess, despite not the big salary, they are the wise people of the village and the only ones to bridge the locals to the outside world.

Oras vėsus, o mašinų nėra per daugiausia, tai kam gi sėdėti. Pirmasis kontinentas, kuriame daugiausia tranzuojame eidami, o ne stovėdami. | Cool weather and a few cars, so why to sit waiting. It's the fist continent that we are walking while hitch-hiking.

In the library we quickly settle cozily on the carpet, and look through the books and pictures on the wall. There is one that attracts our attention. The drawn boy in the picture is with a big belly and old man face. Marasmus – its a physical exhaustion, or malnutrition in this case, might be quite a common thing. The porridge of maize, called nshima, might be a fulfilling the hungry stomachs but not nutritious at all. So locals are taught that nuts, dark greens and vegetables with oil needed to be wholesome. It seems the education works well, as the greens and tomatoes can be easily and cheaply bought everywhere. We follow their advice carefully.

In Zambia we got the feeling of a necessity to walk. We wake up in the morning, the sun shines over the fresh green hills and bright red soil, and we just walk and walk. We sit down to have a rest in the shadow near the tomato seller shed, we buy a home cooked donut and we proceed further.

Africa. Try number one or how the consultation from two embassies and the airlines fault cost us 24 hours behind the bars and three times over Atlantic


Once upon a time I went to South Africa. Then I was refused to enter their country. Then they put me in a mad house as if I was a prisoner. I wasn´t even allowed to make a call. Shame. That´s Africa.

A note written in one of the magazines among the lines. Ironically written next to a column named: ´We are looking for Discovery members with inspirational stories to tell´.

Iš Danguas.| From the sky.

Johannesburg airport. The neutral space, which we are trying to cross in order to reach our transit flight to Swaziland. There is no need of visa for us to that country. Why couldn’t we start with the Republic of South Africa? Simple as that – for Lithuanians the only option to obtain visa is to come back to Europe and do it there. No other option. So we are trying to avoid that, and start our African odyssey somewhere in the south. Two embassies have advised us that we don’t need any transit visas, so we are confident and cheerful handing our documents to the officer at the airport to check the passports. ´Visas?´ a bit sleepy in a bored tone asks he. ´We don´t need visas to Swaziland´ like excellent pupils answered him. ´But you need a transit South African visa, if you are going to a neighboring country´. Nice one. How on earth we suppose to know if the trusted source of knowledge – embassy – does not know that. South African Airlines apparently are guilty too for letting us through.

All of a sudden we find ourselves in a small room, among the others with fake passports and miniature mistakes made in their documents. The staff works slowly, feels as they don´t have a certain pattern where to start and how to end the case. They grab one, who is already snoozing waiting for his turn. Then his case dropped for an hour until he becomes an interesting one again.

One officer comes for the third time to ask which country we are from. We are sitting there without any clue what is going to happen next. ´Maybe you will be deported´ the officer looks tired and very unhappy. ´But could we not buy another flight to the non-neighbouring country?´ desperately we inquire. It seems the officers are satisfied for a moment with a proposal as such, and we attack Internet sporadicly trying to choose a country we would need to fly to. Some seem very expensive to get to, some don´t offer visa on arrival stuff. Finally, when we find an excellent choice, Zambia, we cannot buy online. The Internet page seems to seize working. We can buy at the airport, at the SAA office, but the cash changed into local money doesn´t cover entire fare, and the debit card is not accepted. The officers seem to loose their patience, and prescribe us a vital document. Inadmissables. Deported. ´What´s now?´we inquire both tired and frustrated. ´The airlines will have to take care of you. After all, it is their fault you are here. We had to charge them ten thousand money´ (don´t ask what money, we were confused enough about our own fate). It feels like the earth just shifted underneath the feet.

So we end up in the ARM (analytical risk management) facilities, or in short, a miniature prison inside the airport. We are taken away all electronic equipment. ´Are you journalists?` the officer asks sorting away our camera, voice-recorder and microphone. ´Yes, we are´ we answered. ´You will write well about me, yes?` and his behaviour instantly and ever since was excellent with us. He didnt´t even lock us in the day time.

P.Afrika. | S.Africa

For the meals we went into the small canteen, where finally all of us got to see each other and maybe chat a bit about ´why we are here´. Two Pakistani guys are here for four days already without any idea of how long they are going to stay here. Nobody permits them to call home. Nor that we had this option. The only difference, that we are for days and days without internet so our close ones for weeks do not have a clue where we are. But here, business people went for their usual affairs, and disappeared without any notice. They cannot smoke there too, so four days with forced quitting is not something easy to handle. And the other officer who was neutral to us, seems to provoke the Pakistani guys. ´What you are staring at´ shouts he. Being witness of non-provoking glance of Pakistani at the officer seemed to frustrate us about the silly situation, but we were sitting there silent.

After a meal we are back to our cell with walls painted with a crazy smiling clown and freakish green fish. We cannot work, as our computers and pens are taken away. So the only thing we are able to do, is to get some good rest. Sleep, eat, turn on the other side and read some Lithuanian magazines, which we found them among other magazines. We in fact were very excited to get something Lithuanian from the other side of the world, and still quite fresh seems. The only frustration was to not know what is awaiting for us. Any options seemed very expensive to us, but when someone behind the walls was wailing about his stolen money (´number five, what´s happening?´ the officers were not very happy with that number five, and he would never get out for dinner with us. When we thought of what other inadmissables facing, we thought that any lost money we will get back some day by working, and overall it is more like an adventure, but not a real threat for loss of freedom or something serious as others might encounter.

At first, South African Airlines talk to us particularly rudely. ´You will be sent back to Brazil´ the unhappy woman shouted. Unfortunate for them, because they not only had to buy us another ticket back to Africa (that week we made three times over Atlantic), but also to cover our expenses in San Paulo. Truth to say, back in Brazil, at first instance we were not admitted too – seems the officers for purely being emotional and scattered can talk illogical things. But then they had to admit us, as there is nothing else they could do. We don´t need visa for Brazil, and the only fault we made is to fly with SAA. But one manager at the SAA was particularly kind with us, and he researched the problem, helping us to get what we deserved.

Verslo klasė. | Business class.

We are getting the flight to Zambia then, hoping that the try number two will be far more successful than the first one. The same Johannesburg airport to pass through, so our anxiety pockets getting fuller. Pff, the first stage happened to end up successfully. But just before we meant to enter airplane heading to Zambia, the officer takes our tickets away and tears them up. What´s that on earth. She quickly handles us new ones. Business class! So with our traveling attire we end up sitting in the puffy chairs, being served by a ear to ear smiling stewardess, asking whether we would like to try wine before pouring it into the glass. And looking down through the tiny clouds at the land of South Africa. Oh well, being Lithuanian is not exactly the same as traveling for another inhabitant of the western world yet.

Have we lost anything in this story, and have we learned anything. Wasted time? But how can you call that wasted, when we got so needed rest, learned people stories and had such an adventure (not that we would like to repeat it again). Yes, there was lots of anxiety there, much more than anywhere on the road, but to be honest, this is all part of Iter Vitae, Journey of Life.

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