Waiting for a lift by the main road, Sioma, Western Zambia
Shanti chilling out at the Boiling Pot, the bottom of Vic Falls, Zambia
Sun set over the Zambezi, Western Zambia
Transport on the Zambezi
Awaiting passengers to make the 3 hour journey down the Zambezi from Senanga to Sioma, Western Zambia
The Litunga (King of the Lozi tribe) arriving at his winter palace
Leading the Litunga's party
The Litunga's boat
The Queen's boat
Lozi people coming out to see their king off
Taxi party in Harare, Zimbabwe
And then we made it to the club - in a field
Baboons eating our food and riffling through our passports, Livingstone, Zambia
Last night of freedom in Lusaka, celebrating a belated birthday for Paulo
Birthday boy
Snack time
My new partner, Mercy
So for the past two weeks I've just been back in the village, trying to set up various things again. As usual everything is pretty slow moving, but at least things are happening.
There have been a few weird happenings as well, just to remind me that Zambia is certainly different from the outside world.
Firstly was our opening staff breifing. Corporal punishment and child abuse were on the agenda, so I felt really good, expecting the headmistress to say something positive against hitting the pupils. Instead she warned the teachers not to hit pupils as a parent had complained. Teachers should bring the pupils to her to beat as she knew where to hit them so it wouldn't show. Sigh...
The second was a sign in the district hospital for religious healing of sick people, including those suffering from HIV/AIDS. If the clinical officers think HIV can be cured through prayer then no wonder the HIV rate is rising in Mumbwa.
Thirdly the interest from the men of Mumbwa in me hasn't decreased. At least I know if I fear being an old maid I can come here and find a husband in a matter of minutes. Unfortunatly this means there is a constant stream of extremely annoying men on my door step, and even telling them I'm already married doesn't put them off. One even said it didn't matter, he wouldn't mind if I was just his girlfriend. Typical. Now I see why this place has so many problems with HIV and STIs.
The other big news is that I have a new partner, Mercy. She is 22 and from northen Zambia. She is a trainee primary school teacher. So far we haven't hit it off, but its early days yet... Finger crossed!
Just thought I'd update everyone on my partnership situation.
I'm actually going back to placement without a partner as Eunice has been transferred to another district. We've parted on good terms though, and I'm sure over the next few months we'll be visiting each other over the weekends. It does mean that for the next week or so at least I'll be living and working by myself. I'm not overly daunted by this - I just have to be brave with the cockroaches and snakes, but it will make simple things where I can't explain in vernacular a lot more difficult. Guess I have to get learning the Nyanga!
As for the new partner, I'll just have to wait and see...
Ashleigh and me at Mumbwa caves Shanti, me, Ashleigh and Jenny at Kariba dam
The end of first term was pretty hectic - while the pupils were stuck doing end of term tests for 2 weeks (yes 2 whole weeks of no teaching) we were busy planning a peer leader training workshop for 75 pupils from grades 5 to 12, ranging in age from 8 to 22. The aim was to train these pupils to become peer educators in their schools and communities. For the volunteers running the event it was 5 days of non-stop stress! We woke up at 4am, bathed outside round a tap in the morning starlight, cooked, facilitated sessions on pretty much everything, provided evening entertainment in the form of dancing, singing and games (I had to do a lot of dancing and singing), and then finally crash into bed about midnight, ready to do it all again the next day. The best part was a Q and A session on HIV/AIDS. One boy asked if it was possible to prevent HIV transmission if you peed after having sex. I tried to answer without falling into hysterics. A major debate also broke out over masturbation, which took a lot of calming down, trying to persuade people you don't run out of sperm if you 'ahm' too much. Anyway, by the time this was all over I was well and truly ready for a HOLIDAY! On our way to peer leader training - I ended up carrying the massive suitcase on my head, to the amusement of the kids bathing in the river
The holiday started with an unwind in Lusaka, with trips to the supermarket being the highlight. Its pretty sad that I can walk around SuperSpar being totally amazed by western products - but face wash, seed bread, muesli and yogurt are things I haven't seen for a while. While we were there we also managed to do some saluwa shopping in the hectic city market. I ended up buying shorts and a denim skirt for about 70p each, not bad! Also in the market we stocked up on jili jili - the local way to drink liquor - in sachets which contain about a shot. My favorite has to be the 'Brittish' (not my spelling going wobbly) whiskey at less than 14p a sachet. The train tracks in Lusaka - trains only run once a week now, so most of the time it serves as a market. Lusaka is probably the dirtiest place I have ever been to, mainly grey concrete and rubbish lining every street.
After wandering round the big lights for a couple of days it was time to head over to Western Province, to a town called Mongu, to witness the Lozi ceremony of Ku'omboka, where the Lozi king moves from his summer palace to his winter palace by boat through the Zambezi flood plains. It was pretty spectacular, with lots of colour, drums and confusion. The Zambezi flood plain is massive, over 25km of water will disappear in the next 6 months, but during the rainy season the villages on the plain become uninhabitable. I haven't quite worked out why they move back there every year, but its a way of life that hasn't changed in centuries. While the villagers wear a combination of western style clothes and brightly coloured chetenge material, their lifestyle still relied completely upon the river and rains. Too much rain and their maze harvest will fail. Too little rain and the same thing will happen. There are no shops, everyone grows just enough for themselves, and sometimes that's not enough to feed their enormous families. Visiting the village really was like walking into a world that has remained cut off from all outside intervention. Paul, Jenny and Ash on the boat out to the King's palace. How the Lozi locals travel everywhere - to fish, to go to the town, to go to school...
The Lozi king leaving his summer palace and arriving at his winter palace, a journey that takes 8 hours to paddle. Our form of travel - minibus loaded with goods.
Our plan was to head southwards from Mongu, through western Zambia, to Lusaka. Everyone told us it probably wasn't a great idea as the roads were poor. We decided to go on an adventure. What we hadn't been told was quite how bad the roads were. We started off fairly early in the morning, with high hopes of traveling most of the way to Livingstone that day. Our first form of transport was a minibus, piled high with farm produce (potatoes, chickens etc.), our packs and a number of unidentified bags, traveling from Mongu to Senanga. The whole way all we saw was the Zambezi river and typical Zambian huts, and nothing else. Reading the guidebook suggests that there is a pontoon crossing the river here all year round, seeming like a lovely 40 minute trip. What we didn't find out 'til we arrived is that at high water the pontoon doesn't run, so instead there is a 3 hour boat trip to the next down downstream on the western bank, Sioma. As it was only 12 when we arrived this didn't concern us too much, but in true African style the boat wouldn't leave until it was fully to bursting and sitting rather low in the water, about 4 hours later. However while we were waiting we went for a dip in the river (no crocs were seen, phew) which the local fishermen found hilarious, and went for a boat ride with the High Commissioner of South Africa, who just happened to be passing (in just 2 days we had met the Zambia president, Banda, and a High Commissioner, all while looking like complete scruffs!).
The journey down stream was lovely, the Zambezi is such a vast river and the lifeblood of Western Province, so we saw lots of people going about their daily existence while we floated along. However once again we had been misled by the guidebook - Sioma appears to be a large town on the map, but in actual fact is little more than a church and 3 shops, and by the time we had unloaded our packs from the boat it was dark and we were literally in the middle of nowhere. Some of the people we had been traveling on the boat with were also rather concerned about 5 muzungos being abandoned in the village, and were excitedly chattering among themselves in Silozi (which none of us understand) about what to do with us. Fortunately one of the guys worked in a lodge about 2 hours away and was getting a truck in that direction, so after some associations we were safe and headed out, crushed on the back of the truck with all the luggage from the boat, about 10 other people, and very cold.
When we woke up the next morning none of us could quite believe where we had turned up, a beautiful lodge right on the banks of the Zambezi, all to ourselves. As we were the only guests we had the full attention of the cook and guide, all of whom were amazed that we had made it from Mongu, a journey which only desperate Zambians seem to make. Crazy white people. We spent most of the time sitting on the balcony overlooking the river, trying to spot crocs (we saw none) and eating homemade muffins - what grannies!
Sioma Lodge
After chilling out at Sioma for 2 days we had to move on, even though we would have been happy staying there the whole holiday. We were also rather concerned at how we would reach our destination - Livingstone. Even though we were on the main road in western Zambia this is only a dirt track, with more pothole than road left. As there was no public transport there we had to rely on getting a lift with a truck (mainly smugglers between Namibia, Zambia and Angola), and had been told that sometimes a vehicle didn't pass for days. With the tarmac road only 130kms away it was close enough to be tempting, but still out of reach. In the end however we were really lucky, we only had 4 hours waiting by the check point (aka 2 huts) before a truck picked us up. 130kms took us 5 hours. bumping around in the back of the truck, so when we finally reached the tarmac it was once again dark and we had nowhere to stay. By some stroke of good luck we pulled up by another truck heading to Livingstone that very moment, so jumped in, alongside 2 women with their duvet. They were sensible, it was very very cold whizzing though the night, but we had some beers and jili jili to keep us warm, some songs to keep our spirits up and the hope of a bed in Livingstone at the end of the day. Waiting for transport at the 'check point', then the ride to Livingstone, looking pretty rough after all day on the back of a truck.
We arrived at Jolly Boys hostel looking like tramps - the grime was literally giving me an odd black colour and once again our packs had got covered in sticky kapenta - and to suddenly be among so many other white people who were nicely dressed was a bit of a shock. Livingstone was truly an amazing place though, with well stocked shops, bars, restaurants and lots of travelers. Oh and Victoria Falls. The falls were at their peak flow when we went, meaning that we couldn't actually see very much, but the spray was immense. It was like the heaviest rain, but coming upwards. As soon as we entered we were soaked to the pants (including Paul's passport and our kitty money - opps! Apart from the soaking, the major event of Livingstone was our baboon encounter. The other guys found my fear of baboons hilarious, until our bag was snatched by a rather vicious male. We had to look on helplessly while he ate his way through our packed lunch of oranges and biscuits, and then had the cheek to look through our wallets and passports. We were only rescued by a guard with a stone a good 15 minutes later. This served to only confirm my hatred of these animals, but at least we all escaped with our money and documents.
After a big night out it was time to head on in our adventure - off toe Zimbabwe. We walked across the boarder and into Vic Falls town to find a bus down to Buluwayo. For some strange reasons the bus didn't leave 'til 3 am, so we spent most of the night huddled on the bus in some township, surrounded by our fellow travelers, in various states of drunkenness. This didn't seem to bother the others very much, but I spent the whole night wide awake, clutching my bag to me and trying not to be too worried about the fight going on outside the nightclub we were parked next to. All was ok though, and we arrived at Buluwayo early the next morning, to find a reasonably clean and almost European style town - a major surprise! However there is still evidence of the economic melt down that Zimbabwe has faced. Last year the currency was changed to US$, but there is no change, so there is an odd mix of $, Rand and old Zim $s, which is very confusing. Even with this system there is not enough change, so I was often given sweets as change at the supermarket, meaning I was on an E number high for most of the trip. There is still very little food in most of the shops, so getting basics to make a meal was pretty difficult. And fresh food at the markets was about double the price of Zambia. But overall Zimbabwe is much more developed that Zambia, despite Zambia's record for peace. Zim was obviously much more influenced by its colonial rulers, and the towns are laid out in clear grids, unlike the hotchpotch which is Lusaka. There are even parks and tree and cute suburbs. Completely not what I expected.
However the lack of tourism has hit the country hard, so accommodation is difficult to find. What we did find was run by a little old Afrikaans lady, who has only seen a handful of visitors since 2006. Since its the only place still going it says a lot about the change in fortunes. The main attraction of Buluwayo is Matopas National Park, known for cave paintings and white rhino, both of which we saw in abundance. While there we were welcomed by everyone we met, not hassled one bit and didn't have to worry at all. Of course there are concerns about Uncle Bob, but the people of Zimbabwe could really do with some support from the outside world, and our visit was appreciated by everyone we met.
Cave painting showing a rhino hunt
From Buluwayo we traveled to Great Zimbabwe, and ancient city of the Zimbabwean people, hidden among the hills and boulders. Once again we were the only vistors, and were warmly welcomed, with drums, dancing and lots of people offering information. The castle, build from stone on a rocky hill was pretty amazing, especially as it has survived for so long. It seems strange that in the 12th century the knowledge was there to build such a vast structure, but still today the majority of the population live in mud huts with thatched roofs.
From Buluwayo we bused up to Harare, the capital of Zimbabwe, and the most developed of the places we've been, for an international arts festival. We didn't really have a clue what to expect, but it completely surpassed all ideas. It was set in a leafy park, with tents, big stages and fairy lights everywhere, and staged everything, from traditional African dancing and drumming, to French jazz and belly dancing. Sitting listening to Joze Gonzales as the sun set, and dancing to the UK band the Magnets (beat box, meets everything else), while chowing down on sushi, Mongolian food and some beers, was pretty surreal. Our other surreal experience while in Harare was hanging out with the young whites. It was a bit like an African version of the OC. After a house party in a mansion, we all jumped in 4x4s and headed out of the town to what appeared to be a random field. In fact there were 2 bars, and DJ and a dance floor, all in the middle of nowhere. By the time I was tired of dancing the sun had come up, most people were either como or had gone home, and we hitched back to town, still in a daze wondering what had happened.
After 4 days of chilling out to some amazing music, it really put Zim up there as a top destination for me. Although we only experienced on side of the Zimbabwean lifestyle (we stayed with a friend of a friend whose maid ironed my thongs!), it really showed that although the country is in political turmoil, has no currency and lives in fear of the next bout of political violence, the people there, both black and white, make it an amazing place to experience. Partying to the max with the Harare OC crowd!
A 10 hour bus ride has brought us back to Zambia. Tomorrow I'll be heading up to Kabwe to meet up with all the other vols again, and a few days of training ready for second term. I'm a litter worried about having to readjust to village life, and might be having a new partner for the next 3 months, but I'm also excited about getting back to work. I've already set up so much, met so many people, and have lots of plans to fulfill, so I'm also anxious to get back in there. Plans for the term include a sports event, a community event, more work with the youth friendly corner and some sessions at the youth skills centre for out of school youths. Within school I hope to get more teachers on board with the project, so that the resource centre and clubs are running by themselves when I leave. There is a lot to do, but with only 3 months left the pressure is on!
