This is Africa

I wrote most of this blog on one of our five (FIVE) travel days from Nairobi, Kenya to Senga Bay, Malawi a couple of weeks ago while our bus was stopped to fix the tire that blew out, and things have been so crazy that I haven’t gotten a chance to finish it up and post it until today.

Today is a day that I’ve had to tell myself over and over again that “this is Africa” to avoid quietly imploding.

This is Africa.

Where one day you buy bus tickets and agree to get to the station thirty minutes early to load your packs and the next day you show up and there’s no room for your packs and you get cheated out of an extra hundred thousand shillings (about 60USD) to fit them in.

Where “fitting them in” means they move a bunch of boxes from under the bus to the floor under your feet and then half of your packs still end up in the bus with you.

Where not only do the boxes on the ground in front of you make it impossible to put your feet on the ground, but the 7-foot-tall man in front of you tells you he’s “just going to lean his seat back a little bit,” leans it all the way back, and doesn’t move it for the whole ride.

Where the woman behind you pushes your seat back forward when you try to lean it back a little because she thinks you might crush her chickens.  Or maybe her chunk of raw meat that becomes the smell of everything on the bus.

Where the second 16-hour bus ride in three days becomes at 23-hour bus ride because the tire blows out three times, meaning you arrive at the border at 4am and have to wake up again at 9am.

Where your contact at the border charges you 400 dollars to take you two hours into Malawi to a place that isn’t even on a bus line.

BUT, this is Africa.

Where you can buy fresh mangos out the window of the bus every time it stops.

Where a five-year-old wakes you up on the bus to share his potato chips.

Where there are beautiful views and sometimes monkeys around every hairpin turn the bus makes.

Where the random place you get taken to is absolute paradise on Lake Malawi.

Where the owner of Hakuna Matata lodge, Willie needed you to stay the night because the amount you are paying is the exact amount that was stolen from him a week ago, and he volunteers to take you to a bus station if you only pay for fuel.

Where you finally arrive in Senga Bay and your contacts are some of the most wonderful people you’ve ever met and the Malawians make their country live up to its nickname “The Warm Heart of Africa.”

Where I share so many memories and stories of God’s goodness with such an amazing team through Kenya and Tanzania, and I know God will continue to be faithful and to stretch us all in this last month in Malawi.