Where ‘no’ is no answer
No stopping till you shop at Cape Maclear,
A FTER a long day on my motorbike ride from Mozambique, I lay on my back in the late afternoon sun and enjoyed the soothing, lapping sounds and cool breeze of Lake Malawi. A lone fish eagle soared across the sky directly above me as a fisherman paddled his dugout quietly through the water. I stretched my legs in the sand and wondered lazily if life could be any more idyllic than it seemed on the beach of Cape Maclear.
I was about to nod off when a young man in faded clothing carrying a Ben 10 backpack sat down next to me.
“Hello. My name is Peter. How are you?” he asked.
Thus began a tête-à-tête during which I learnt that Lake Malawi is home to more than 600 species of fish and that fish eagles are common there. The lake, said Peter, is 1.2-million years old, 700m deep and it’s getting deeper every year. I discovered that Cape Maclear was declared the world’s first fresh-water national park in 1980. Peter also told me that you’ll pay $15 for a beer in Norway; that Malawian Christians and Muslims “don’t fight too much” and that all Malawians love Nelson Mandela.
Peter Imani was born and raised at Cape Maclear and hasn’t lived anywhere else: “It’s a nice place,” he said, nodding happily as we stared out at the water, silent for a few seconds.
“Did you know that I am an artist?” he asked.
No, I did not, but yes, I’d like to see his artwork. Peter’s smile broadened and I realised I’d taken the bait. Out of the Ben 10 bag came a huge roll of canvas paintings. You probably know the ones I’m talking about; they’re found on street corners and at curio markets across the continent. Most images involve silhouettes of fishermen in wooden canoes or women carrying water on their heads against dramatic sunsets. I’d seen the paintings back home in Cape Town for as long as I could remember. I’d seen them in
Maybe you would like a nose ring made from the tooth of a hippo?
Botswana, Swaziland, Mozambique and Zimbabwe.
“No, thank you, Peter. No, thank you,” I said, again and again.
He didn’t give up. I had to examine (and decline) every painting. Finally, the contents of the bag were exhausted and I thought it was over. I was wrong.
Peter, you see, was not only an artist; he was also a skipper who’d take me on a sunset cruise. Or we could go fishing. Or we could go fishing at sunset. He was also a Rasta who’d turn my head into a “fiesta of dreadlocks”. Or sell me dagga. Or sell me dagga I could smoke while he dreadlocked my hair.
Not only was Peter an artistic, Rasta skipper, he was also a chef who made the best pancakes in all of Cape Maclear, which he’d deliver to my tent early the next morning. And if I liked, he’d deliver a pair of custom-made shorts at the same time — and a wooden key ring or two with my name engraved on them. Or any name. Indeed, Peter was an artist, chef, skipper, fisherman, tailor, barber, carpenter and Rasta rolled into one. I may have forgotten one or two of his other talents.
After I’d declined every one of his offers, Peter grew silent. I imagined he’d finally run out of business ideas. Again, I was wrong. Suddenly, his eyes sparkled and he leaned forward towards me, staring at the thin metal ring in my nose: “Did you know,” he asked cheerfully, “that I am also a jewellery maker? Maybe you would like a nose ring made from the tooth of a hippo?”
I couldn’t help myself. I was intrigued and gave myself away by making the minor, yet momentous mistake of raising my eyebrows.
Prolonged negotiations ensued, which resulted in my handing over $20 in exchange for the promise of a hippo tooth nose ring “expertly” made and delivered by sunset the next day. I watched Peter skip off down the beach happily and I vowed never to tell anyone how foolish I’d been to pay a stranger the full amount for something I’d never seen and which was probably impossible to make anyway.
As I walked back to my campsite, I discovered Peter wasn’t the only multi-skilled Malawian on the beach. The place was teeming with them. The approach was identical: warm greeting; exchange of names; a series of unsolicited interesting facts about Lake Malawi, Malawi and the world at large; and then, “Did you know that I am an artist?”
On the shores of the lake, I discovered, every exchange is an entrepreneurial opportunity. Regardless of how a discussion begins, it will in all probability end in a handover of money; yours.
For example, later that evening, as I walked through the sandy lanes of the village of Cape Maclear, a man called Eric greeted me. Before he could tell me about his art, I asked if he could recommend a restaurant.
“Of course,” he said. “Follow me and I’ll show you the best one.”
We walked and walked and walked. Finally, on the far side of the village, we arrived at a grass hut. It wasn’t a restaurant but Eric’s home. He led me in and roused his sleeping wife and child so I could sit on their bed while they prepared my meal. I tried to object but they’d have none of it. Ah, but there was a small problem. Eric would need payment up front to buy more ingredients. I forked out the requested amount. As soon as he’d left to do the shopping, I explained to the woman that it was okay, but I wasn’t hungry after all and I left.
Early the next morning, I awoke to tapping on my tent. There was Eric with my food. I thanked him and took it, but no, I didn’t want to go fishing now, I didn’t want to see his paintings and I didn’t want dreadlocks or dagga.
Later that day, after I’d finished Eric’s meal — a deliciously simple combination of rice, boiled potatoes, thick tomato paste and grilled chambo fish — I sat on the beach enjoying the solitude until someone tapped my shoulder. I turned impatiently, ready to reject all offers in the strongest terms, but there, smiling, stood Peter, holding out an envelope. I took it and tore it open. There was my ring, a splendid piece of hippo tooth perfectly crafted to fit my nose, which is where it remains to this day.
I left Cape Maclear with a new nose ring, a pair of shorts, several wooden key rings, a painted jerry can and many happy memories of a beautiful place and countless tireless entrepreneurs, who always smile and have an alternative to every “no” they hear.