Off into the unknown...

By the time the majority of you read this – assuming you are reading it on Tuesday morning or evening after a hard days work we will be (hopefully) on our way through Mozambique. Yes I know we were supposed to leave on Monday. We were but that is a story that I shall explain further down the page.

This week has been exhausting. A lot of running around in work trying to finish bits off. Remember and write down all the things I think should be remembered and written down. And getting reading for Beehives biggest day of the year.

Wednesday we had a party at ours due to one of our friends return back to the UK for a holiday. She is coming back here but we will be gone by the time she returns so we had a pizza party for her and a few drinks.

Thursday was my last rugby session with the lads, and all the ladies came afterwards to enjoy in the tom foolery after rugby that always ensues. Not only that we all continued onto Doogles, the only place to be in Blantyre on a Thursday night if you are an expat (allegedly) and then we did go onto Chez. To give it it’s full title it is Chez Ntembe International Night Club. It is international because there is one in Zambia and one in Zimbabwe. It is a little bit loose calling in international and to be fair it is a little bit loose calling it a night club. But it was the first time that Pam, Debbie, Adina and Kate had been to Chez. I’ll be honest it might be the last time they go as well. I have describe it before but I will again, save you traipsing all the way back through the blog. It is an oblong room with a bar at one end, toilets at the other and in the middle dreams die.

There is something I affectionately call the Chez shuffle. There are two versions of this dance move, one is for the men to swop with the ladies to avoid the attentions of the local male Malawian population and the other is the women to swop with the men to avoid to attentions of the local women of the working persuasions. Anyway we all had a good dance and no-one got mugged or stabbed. A good night in all. I was fortunate in that once again I didn’t have to work on the Friday, the others did. What I did have to do on the Friday was drop Pam off and then sort out all the stuff for Mozambique.

Well first stop was the police station. This is actually one of the most efficient systems in place in Malawi, and to be fair I think some Western countries would struggle to beat it. It is an Interpol certificate to prove your car is not stolen. I trundle up to the second floor to find the office of anti vehicle theft. Show him my passport and motor certificate. He gives me a bill for 5000 kwacha. I trundle to the cashier and return with a receipt  and he writes out the certificate, stamps it, and I’m done. In and out in about 10 minutes. The smell of the toilets makes it feel like an hour though!

That done I proceeded to breakfast and then the Mozambique Embassy. Now I have applied and got a fair few visa in my time and I guess I should have known better but in my defence Zambia and Zimbabwe you simply turn up at the border and sort it out. I had in my mind I would turn up at the embassy, fill in the forms, stampy stamp stamp – job done.

No. It started to go wrong when I saw the sign outside. Applications 8-12 Collection 14-16:00. Check watch, 11.55. Whoops. I bound up the stairs and into the office slightly out of breath and upto the counter. The woman does not look impressed. Not to worry, I said good morning, I was all smiles and charm.

Two visas to Mozambique please.

She looks at me, charges me 200 kwacha and hands me to forms to fill in.

I don’t have a pen.

After much huffing and puffing she lends me one.

I fill in the form to the best of my ability but if there was an award for the worse most confusing form it would be up there. That and the question boxes don’t have answer boxes. You have to write everything in the same box.

I return to the window big smile.

The address of the hotel needs to be a full address.

Why? Is there more than one Casa Gabriele on a different Island of Mozambique (it is about 5km long!). So I try to fill out a bit more and blag.

Do you have your invitation letter.

Bugger. I do but it is in the car. She looks at her watch. Looks at the wall clock. It is past 12 by now. I apologise and leg it.

Back from the car she looks at the email the hotel have sent us with disgust and then back at me.

Do you have your bank statement.

Er no, why the hell would I need one of those for a visa I think but don’t say. Erm I can bring it this afternoon if you will accept a screen print from a computer.

She begrudgingly accepts.

Two passport photos.

Eh. Passport photos. Why? You have my passport. How difficult are you trying to make it to get into your country for tourists? Do you not want our money? I’m coming from the country next door!

And there is no way I am getting this. I mean I could have got one for me maybe, nip up the road, but Pam is in work, twenty minutes away. So I relented and said no.

At this point she chucks the passports back across the counter with a exasperated sigh and simples come back Monday and doesn’t even look at me.

So we will be returning to the embassy Monday and hopeful going Tuesday. Fingers crossed.

Friday afternoon I, with all the other volunteers, ran around beehive in a mild state trying to get everything ready for the bike chase. Eventually it was almost organised and we called it a day with an early start in the morning.

Another night out to Pam’s friend from work who’s cook produce a delicious pumpkin soup, beef stew and fruit salad – not all together you understand.

And then the big day. The Chilomoni Bike Chase.

Well the morning stared with volunteers trying to direct staff for the final jobs to do. Then the sponsors and stall holders turned up with sounds systems, wares to sell, and products to demonstrate.

The first activity was the netball game between the Blantyre Tigresses (who won the Malawian premier league – and bearing in mind Malawi are fourth in the world) and the Beehive Stingers – a bunch of people at Beehive who know how to play netball.

Well the team bus with the tigresses turned up, all in their spangly uniforms, all a foot taller than are team. The first job though was for me to stop the team bus under the Finish Line banner so I could climb on the roof and unfurl it.

I then had to leg it up to the pitch to make sure the lines were marked out – it’s a sand court so we use lime. It wasn’t so toot sweet Aubrey and I finished it off. As in true style it is always the same people who volunteer for everything so as soon as Aubrey and Amos finished they had to go and get ready for the racing.

I then ran around to find another one of my workers who was supposed to be in charge of the cross bar challenge on the football pitch. Same as Soccer AM the ball is on the half way line (ours is only a 60m pitch so it’s as tough) the only problem was that at ten past nine (it was supposed to start at nine) he had no football. Hmmm. Now to be fair I just told him – get a football and sort it. I did see him later, bless him, standing in the middle of the pitch surrounded by children with his bag of tea which were the prizes not having many takers.

Next was the racing itself. Well where do I start?

Pam with two of our neighbours

 

 

The idea of the Chilomoni Bike Chase is to raise money for the Mother Teresa Children Centre (MTCC). Beehive invites all the companies that it can think of to partake. They pay a lot of money to buy our Royal Mail Bikes (more on them later). These are then painted in the companies colours. On the day a team of riders turn up from said company, race the bikes, then the company either takes the bikes for their own use or donates them to a worthwhile cause. Simples.

The bikes. The bikes we were racing are the old school Royal Mail Bikes that are designed for carry mail. They can carry 150kg. They are very heavy. They only have 3 gears. They are not racing bikes!

Throw into the mix the course. The course leaves Beehive campus, sharp left down a hill on a dirt road, round a few corners, few more dirt roads, up onto tarmac, along a road, dodge the minibuses, cars, lorries, off the tarmac back onto the dirt, up some rocky cobbled dodgy back streets, down some ridiculously steep hills and back alongside MTCC.

The way the racing was conducted was thus; thirteen teams of four riders in relay style. But to absolute carnage last year it was decided to have two legs rather than four and two riders from each team in each leg. Simples. It also meant that as only the first rider in each team counted that you only needed two good cyclists the rest of the team can be there for the fun.

The international companies (there were three of them) asked for volunteers to rider for them so we had a MTCC team – Hanacell, and Construction team – Mobal, and a JPII students team – FMB. The others were Coca cola, Puma Energy, GoTV, and some other local companies.

My team, Bosco, Aubrey, some random, Amos and Me

Our heat was first, 4 teams, 16 riders, 8 on the start line, including me. The other thing was I have managed to pick up some cycling tops out here cheap to take back with me. The look on my teams faces when I said we would wear them instead of the free pink t-shirts everyone else had on – it was great!

The start line - we turned left in front of the white van!

Well the whistle went and we were off. Either me or Bosco are nuts or the others were wusses but we were first and second into the first corner by pelting it as fast as we could down the first hill. Negotiating the bumps, rocks , children and cars it was a tight race but Bosco was first into the changeover, coca cola and a student next and I came in fourth, first of the second riders!

Our teammates then charged off into the distance and we were left to wonder. Well we didn’t wonder, we wandered. Back to the campus where we learn we had won and were through to the final. Woop woop. Two more heats with the other teams then the best race of the day. The Chilomini race. 5 year olds on trikes round the car park. You have never seen anything so cute in all your life. 3 heats of four then 3 kids in the final. And the girl won! To be fair she had the crowd on her side by quite a margin.

And onto the final, which was to be decided between Illovo the sugar company, construction team and the MTCC team. Well the start was a replay, Bosco and me into the first corner first. Sweet. But it didn’t last, the two Illovo guys caught me up and whirred past on the first tarmac section, but Bosco was still going strong. Changeover I was fourth in. MTCC both behind. What was quite nice though was all the hand shakes and congratulations between the first riders. We then all turned round and cycled back the same way to get back to see who had won.

And who had won........

This is a good stretch of road

Illovo.

Now I don’t want to sound like sour grapes or anything but 1) Amos was only a few meters behind and his saddle broke so it dropped down too low and spun around, and 2) Illovo had hired a couple of professional international cyclists.

Collecting our awards

But we got a medal and a mug and had a great day. What was also really nice is we opened up the centre to all the local children who normally stand outside at the fence and watch the activities from the wrongs side of the bar. It was a stampede when they realised they were allowed in. Hundreds of them on the jumping castle (bouncy to you and me). Then dancing at the disco. Sitting on the chairs and tables for the face painting and colouring. It was a great day and a wonderful one to end my Beehive time on. And so another chapter ends. I have only one more thing to do and that is to attend a final assembly on the 11^th to say goodbye to all the staff.

Today (super organised writing this on Sunday!) was a very sedate affair which involved a trip to Ryalls, the very nice hotel, for an all you can eat buffet for Sunday lunch – wow I wish we had tried it sooner, so good. The other thing I wish I had found out sooner is the drawer at the back of the washing machine to put the powder in rather than throwing it all over the clothes. Only taken me 11 months to find it!

Extra blog update thingy. We have the visas! Woo hoo. And it was not just me that suffers at the hands of the Mozambique Embassy. We turned up with all our documents in hand. They take them no problem. There then was a little Japanese couple sitting there looking a bit bemused. Pam then got called up and told she had to cover her shoulders (that’s not a thin in Malawi, maybe in Moz though). The Japanese then ask a few questions. Then a poor Belgian woman turns up. First she had her confirmation letter on an iPod. No it has to be printed. Bank statement – she tried to show them all the money she had in her wallet to demonstrate how much money she had. Not accepted. And each time a new question was asked she left to talk to her husband. Pam and I wondered why he was not there. Because he had shorts on and was asked to leave! Eventually I was given a bill where I had to cross the road, pay it at the bank and then return to hand the receipt over. Done. No, come back at 3 o’clock to collect your passports. Wow. But we are all done and ready to go. See you on the other side.

Simples. Simples. Anything but!

And so people that was the week that was and there is not many left now!

Cyclist racing – 52

Number of people Pam had to treat – 1 – man with bust mouth and face.

Cyclist knocked off their bike by cars – 1 (surprised it wasn’t more)

People at the event – I reckon maybe a thousand people!

Score in the Netball – 52-4 (close game)

Length of the cycle course – 6 km

Girls that raced – 1 I think she deserves a mention as she was the only one.

Money raised – around 4 million Kwacha.

Amount of courses I had at Ryalls – 5. Starter of prawns, chicken satay, beef, salads. Main, lamb, Yorkshires, roasts, veg, gravy. Pudding, chocolate cake, banoffee pie, crème caramel. Cheese, er cheese, brie, gouda, port salut style something or other. Fresh fruit, pears, pineapple, strawberries. And then did finish with a coffee!

Time waiting in the Embassy – One hour for processing then 4 hours for the passports to be returned.