July 2, 2004
Zikomo (Hello):
We're just back from climbing Mount Mulanje, which is really a "massif," or cluster of mountains. (Don't you love how I write as though I have any clue about geology?) The whole thing was like climbing up or down very irregular stairs, but we had a lot of fun. We hiked for about four hours a day for five days and all of the huts (primitive camping, despite their names) were over 6000 ft. The huts (there are 7 on the mountain and we stayed at 4) are run by the Forestry department and each has a permanent caretaker. The caretakers work on two-week shifts and keep the huts supplied with water (from nearby streams) and wood for the fires (generally pine, though not always). We hired a guide, Harry, as recommended by the Forestry office. Theoretically the guides point out birds, trees, insects and animals. Harry's identification skills were a little rusty, but David and I had no complaints about his path finding abilities. We would have gotten lost at least half a dozen times a day without him. The "paths" were either faint through grassland or non-existent over large rock slabs. We came close to rock climbing a couple times, which is not an activity I'm fond of, but the whole experience was lovely!
Our first night, we met a group of 6 forestry officials who were carrying out a "cedar inventory exercise." The cedar on Mulanje is unique to the mountains, but is seriously threatened by introduced pines and (non-introduced, presumably?) aphids. This inventory will be used as a benchmark for later studies by the Mount Mulanje Conservation Trust (MMCT), a relatively new group as conservation isn't as important in countries where people have a difficult time feeding themselves. In conjunction with the inventory, the Forestry dept. has started burning large swathes of pine to be replaced by cedars grown in nurseries down on the plain. Additionally, (and painfully, we think), the forestry dept. employs men to carry 15 ft. pine planks down ON THEIR HEADS! Most of them are barefoot, which made me wince all the more. The worst part, though, is that they only earn 35 kwacha (or 35 cents!) per plank. At most we saw men with two planks, and since they can only make two trips a day, the income is pitiful. On the other hand, it is a way of providing jobs. There is a cable which can be used to bring the wood down, but many of the men "volunteer" to carry the wood down as a means of securing some money.
On our way to the last hut we passed a large net construction, [similar to a volleyball net,] placed near a forest area. David asked Harry what it was used for and we were told that you can't eat nsima (maize meal-the primary local staple) without meat, so they must be to capture pigeons for the caretaker and forestry workers. We discovered an hour later, [upon our arrival at the last hut,] that the nets (called mist nets) were actually set up by Stewart Lane, a retired Anglican priest who is volunteering for the MMCT by capturing and banding (or ringing, as he called it) birds near the forest areas. He said there has long been an idea that many of the birds fly to the lowlands for winter (which would be now, since we're below the equator), but no one has ever actually studied the migration. We shared the hut with Stewart that evening and learned lots of interesting things about Malawi (he's an American who's been here since 1965), though we had the two middle huts [and nights] to ourselves.
Our descent, which was worse [than the climb] as so often happens, was to the Fort Lister gap. David decided a better name was Fort Blister, since we both have several on our toes and heels. He also noticed (a sure sign he wasn't paying attention to the path) that as a means of controlling our balance I have a "firm bird-flapping" motion, in which I push down with both arms (against nothing, which is why he thinks it's funny), while he has his "disco inferno finger." (My way is clearly more effective since I fell less often.) We're back in Blantyre now running errands before we head off tomorrow for Zombe plateau and some more hiking.
