So life has been a little tougher in the
past few weeks. Not sure of the reason but potentially 9 months away from
amazing friends and family started to take its toll. It has been super hot,
reaching 42 degrees at times and as you know I get hot in winter in the UK so
that has not helped. Also living in such a different culture can be exhausting.
Everything that you got brought up to believe is no longer valid and you have
to adapt and decide when to roll with the culture and when to take a stand. As
someone who hates being told what to do this is a daily challenge.
As I reached my peak of homesickness the
greatest friend arrives with two aunties in tow to entertain me for a week or
so. The aunties arrive laden with gifts for the kids at the orphanage so we
made a trip there. Lots of babies were cuddled and a good time was had.
The next morning we set off to Livingstone.
The intercity bus station did not let us down with calls of musungo and
opportunities to buy almost anything from dog collars to wigs, dodgy DVD’s to
steering wheel covers. As with all long distance travel on buses here we get to
enjoy the preacher for a good twenty minutes before very loud love songs are
played over the sound system. 6 and a half hours later we arrive at our
destination. I will never be able to hear Boys to Mens ‘End of the Road’ again
without wanting to rip my ears off after hearing it 7 times on that journey.
The next morning we set off to see the
mighty Mosi-I Tuna or Victoria Falls. Suddenly there is a perk of being a
volunteer as I only have to £1.50 rather than £12 to enter. We amble around the
falls for a few hours when I presume we have taken the wrong track as there is
almost no waterfall. Having been there 10 years ago I knew it was more
impressive- only to discover that as it was dry season there was no water. We
decide to take on the challenge of the punch bowl where all the water
culminates at the bottom of the falls and set off on a fairly steep slope down.
The views were amazing until we had the challenge of climbing back up. Never
have I been so hot in my entire life. We reach the top and stop at a cafe to
rehydrate when a huge baboon comes out of nowhere and tries to steal my fags.
It was huge and pretty terrifying experience. The guard comes over and uses a
slingshot to frighten him away.
Somewhat harassed by this situation we head
to the Royal Livingstone for afternoon tea followed by sundowners at the edge
of the water. Relaxing with a cold glass of wine we are suddenly ambushed by
monkeys trying to steal the snacks set out by the staff. Drinks were knocked
over but thankfully the wine was saved. The waiter seemed to not believe me
when I explained that it was not me but the monkey who have covered the table
in drinks.......
Gemma and I took on our biggest challenge
yet and armed with huge hangovers took a small boat over to Livingstone Island.
At this point we are right on the top of the falls with much more impressive
views than we had seen the day before. Feeling decidedly ill we stripped down
to our bikinis and followed a rather handsome chap in swimming trunks into the
water. I could not tell if the nausea was because we had drunk so much cheap
wine the night before or because we were only a few meters from the edge of the
falls, swimming to a small pool. The current was pretty strong and you could
feel yourself pulled closer to the edge. No safety harnesses in sight I kept my
eye on the goal of reaching the pool. Then comes then next fear educing moment.
Climbing into the pool and hanging off the edge of the falls with the
previously mentioned chap holding your legs. Yes, just your legs. No harness,
no safety equipment. It was amazing and a stunning sight and clearly the most
innovative way to cure a hangover I have ever encountered! After all that
entertainment I lay by the pool for the next few days working on my mosquito
bites and sunburn.
On Wednesday 24th October Zambia
celebrated its independence from Britain. I was not sure how well four Brits
would go down during these celebrations but as it was the last day of the
holiday we ventured to Kafue a small town about an hour outside of Lusaka..
Packed on to the blue bus we rattle down the road to Kafue to a party held
right on the river’s edge. On arrival there are two bars and a stage with
various musicians playing. Within minutes a herd of Zambian men approached us
asking if they could have their photos taken. As I live in this cartoon I
declined whilst watching with amusement as my fellow Brits stood with each chap
and had their photos taken. The singer on stage suddenly seemed to notice us 4
standing out in the crowd and on discovering we were English got the two
aunties on stage to dance to some Zambian tunes. The crowd went wild as the aunties
shook their bottoms to the beat and chants of musungo could be heard all around
from the 250/300 people there. On leaving the stage they had acquired their own
little fan base who queued to shake hands with them. Meanwhile I was asked ‘are
they your musungos?’ as if I was there manager. All in all, a fabulous Independence
Day with much amusement.
I had the pleasure of being invited to a
kitchen party by a Zambian colleague of mine. A kitchen party is hosted for the
bride to be in advance of the wedding and all guest bring something for the new
couples kitchen to help them start their new lives together. The invitation
said that the party started at 13hrs, slightly more adapted to Zambian time
after almost nine months I arrived at 14hrs to discover I was still one of only
a handful of guests. A few hours of sitting in the sunshine, a cold beer or two
and watching all the beautiful Zambian outfits and the party finally begins.
The bride to be arrives and crawls along the floor under a chitenge- Zambian
print material- with a matron until they reach a sofa under an gazebo. Then the
groom arrives and unveils the bride to be. A small group of ladies are drumming
away through the whole experience. The matron then calls guests up one by one
to present their gifts and each guest then does a dance. I could feel my
English hips getting more and more ridged as we were getting closer to our gift
and then the inevitable happens. The three musungos are made to dance much to
the merriment and open laughter of the guests. Other than the mortification of
dancing like a piece of cardboard the whole experience was awesome.
Then another guest arrived and this time we
decided to adventure in Lake Kariba. The morning we are supposed to leave the
car is not back from the garage so instead of travelling in a Rav 4 we are
driven by a chap in a Toyota Corolla. 7 hours later and some very hairy
overtaking we arrive on a 17 km dirt track in the dark, separating us from our destination.
The car grounded on rocks more times than I care to remember, a rock at one
point actually lifted the floor of the car. Now that it was dark we took a
number of wrong turns and it was really starting to feel like we would never
find our destination. Finally exhausted, hot and a little bruised from the
journey we arrived at our chalets. Next morning we board the boat- when I say
boat, I mean a few planks of wood nailed to come barrels with an awning on it-
are we are taking to Chikikanka Island where the four of us are the only
guests. Never in my entire life have I seen as many bugs as we did on that trip
including the rather hideous wheeling spider. Every time one scuttled past the
four of us would jump up on our seats and scream ‘Philipo’ until our trusted
captain/barman/waiter came running over and killed them with his flip flop. At
the end of the trip we are picked up by a friend and start the journey home. An
hour in the car starts to overheat and we managed to temporarily fix the
radiator with chewing gum and plasters until we make it to the next town some
70km or so away where we fixed it with silicone. Each village we passed on the
way home was met with waves and cries of ‘musungo’ from the kids. Never fails
to amaze me how much you stand out with pasty skin. All in all an amazing trip
with some stunning views and another perspective of Zambia.
The wheeling spider!
All the visits, travels and experiences
reignited my love for Zambia and reminded me why I was here. That and the fact
it is freezing back home and a nice old 35-40 degrees here! I shall finish with
some quotes from Mr Jedidiah, my 4 year old neighbour and best friend:
Mr Jedidiah ‘Aunty Sarah will you always be
white’
Me ‘Yes’
3 days later
Mr Jedidiah ‘ Aunty Sarah I was thinking,
if you set yourself on fire you would burn and then you would be black like me.’
Me- ‘Good plan Jed but I think I shall
stick to just being white’
2 weeks later
Mr Jedidiah ‘Aunty Sarah I have decided,
when I grow up I am going to be white like you.’
I did not have the heart to disagree!
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