About halfway into my walk (5km) into the boma today to go to the hospital, my flip flop broke – the thing between my toes disconnected itself from the sole of the shoe. Granted this had happened before so I wasn’t too surprised. I had visited the cobbler in the market and he fixed it once before. However I had at least another 2 km to go and could not keep the thing on my foot. So I began walking along with one flip flop and one bare foot. Despite the fact the about half of Malawians don’t have shoes and walk barefoot all the time, an azungu with one shoe on and one bare foot drew A LOT of attention. (As an aside, I would need to go through some SERIOUS training to get the soles of my feet in condition for bare foot walking all the time – even on the tarmac after about 5 minutes it hurt!)
There were no bike taxis in sight, as I was headed in very early, and just when I thought I was going to have to take a seat on the side of the road until one came along, an ox cart rolled up. The young guy driving the cart really didn’t understand my pathetic Chichewa attempt to explain about my broken flip-flop, but with much pantomime he figured it out.
So picture this: me jogging along side the ox cart, one flip flop one, one in my hand, with my bike bag on my back, gesturing like mad to this poor guy that I wanted a ride into the boma. When he understands what I want and agrees, I throw my bag and flip flop in the cart, and continue to job along side the cart until I can safely hop in while its moving while not making an utter fool of myself (well at least not any more than I already had).
So we are plodding along at a pace, slower than my “hospital walk” but hey, the sole of my foot is getting some much needed relief. Timothe, the nice ox-cart man, then takes his ox-whip thingy that has a bunch of metal wire twisted in a bunch on the end (I guess the metal wire gets the message across better than just the stick) and pulls off a piece of wire. He gestures for my flip flop, and proceeds to stick the wire piece through the between the toe piece, then poke it through the sole and flatten each end out to secure it. I had to just about force 50 kwacha (less than a quarter) on him as a thank-you. Out I hopped and headed into the market to my cobbler who re-did the job with thread and leather (much more comfortable than ox-whip wire!).
I know a man with a deep love of duck tape, who would probably argue that duck tape would have worked just as well, but it certainly wouldn’t have looked as nice. Nonetheless, I think wire, string and duck tape will ALWAYS be in my bag from now on.
Here’s my feet on a good day, i.e. no flip flop mishaps. Even with functioning shoes they take a beating in and out of the boma so you can see why I was SO happy to not have to walk 2+km without one shoe:
And if you are wondering why I don’t just wear my running shoes in, its because an azungu in sneakers is even more of a sight, and I’m trying not to add to the azungu parade spectacle!
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