Lusaka 1
Trip Start
Jun 08, 2008
1
12
28
Trip End
Aug 15, 2008
Lusaka,
Zambia
Friday, July 4, 2008
Woke up early (4:40) for our early breakfast and early departure for Lusaka. I had a good but short sleep in the coziest room I've had on the trip so far. It was a real pleasure being somewhat on my own for a night.
After driving for six hours over heavily potholed roads, we stopped for a final lunch (for me) by the roadside, where we were immediately surrounded by dozens of hungry looking kids from the nearby village. One of the other members of our group complained lightheartedly about not having brown bread for our sandwiches. In an attempt to commiserate with him, I mentioned that whole wheat bread was the ONLY thing I had listed on my registration form for the trip as a special dietary wish. (The tour company tries to accommodate special dietary wishes to the extent possible and provides a place on the registration form to make these wishes known.) Well, wouldn't you know that Miss Bitch (the one who comments on me being first in the serving line) overheard my comment and couldn't resist the opportunity to put in her two cents worth. She said, "And I requested champagne - but I didn't get it either." Well, for starters I don't think that she really did request champagne. Furthermore, I don't think that champagne is anywhere near as reasonable a request as whole wheat bread. And finally, who asked her? She needs to learn to mind her own (effing) business, the fat, ugly, and probably sexually frustrated cow.
The low point of the trip for me came shortly thereafter when we were pulling away from our lunch place: I was looking out the window of the truck as one of the kids who had watched us eat called out to me "My pen, my pen." So I took my pen out of my pocket, showed it to him, and called out to him "My pen." before putting it back in my pocket. He seemed to have thought that I was going to give it to him (which was not my intention), and he was probably somewhat disappointed when he didn't get the pen, although I'm sure that it was far from the greatest disappointment in his life - and although it was not my intention to mislead / disappoint him. Well, wouldn't you know that one of the tour members (the manly lesbian) saw this and immediately proclaimed to the group "Hey, everybody - you wouldn't believe what Randy just did. He made the poor little boy think that he was going to get a pen, then he put it back in his pocket, leaving the poor kid disappointed. Have you ever heard of anything so cruel?" Well it didn't take long for the other tour members to be on me like a pack of wild hyenas - particularly, and not by coincidence I think, precisely the ones who, through their previous comments, had already displayed their dislike for me. So I was assailed by such comments as "How could you do such a thing?!", and "Mate, with that kind of attitude, I think you're on the wrong tour." This - from people who spent the whole tour drinking by night and sleeping and playing games on the truck by day. I attempted a sarcastic response by saying that all I wanted was to make the kid suffer, but they took it literally, thereby confirming their suspicions that they were traveling with the devil himself.
The only thing that saved me at this point was the fact that we were only hours away from my leaving the tour in Lusaka. The hate these people had for me was so thick that it could have been cut with a knife. How did it come to this? I, a friendly, worldly person able to get along with just about anyone - and who would never intentionally harm anyone (I nearly said "would never harm a fly", but in fact I do kill flies given the opportunity), have, in a short time, become evil incarnate.
Anyway, by 15:30 we were at the Arcade Shopping Mall in Lusaka and I was able to slink away from the group unnoticed while they were shopping, without having to say goodbye to them. In fact there were a few good people in the group (mostly guys: Tom, Tim, Simon, especially my tent mate Jace, etc.) and I regret not having formally parted from them. But by not joining them in their drinking and games, which made up the foundation of the group's identity, they felt rejected by me and took every opportunity to express their disapproval of me. This made for a fairly miserable trip for me - at least from the perspective of human relations/interactions. But I still enjoyed the Africa aspect of the tour, so it wasn't a total loss. If I had to do it all over again, I still wouldn't join in the drinking and games next time as I won't change my principles and I can't change my character just to fit in - especially with such people. However, I might have done a better job at either not saying anything at all - or defending myself more aggressively from their hateful accusations. Somehow, though, I didn't feel the need or the desire to defend myself against such a childish bunch of people.
From the parking lot of the shopping mall, I was able to get myself gouged by a taxi for US$12 for the short ride to the Gossner Mission, where I will be staying for the next two weeks with my friends Peter and Brigitte who run the place. I arrived at the mission to warm hugs and Peter and Brigitte listened patiently and sympathetically to my stories of my group tour adventure. It was a great feeling being among beloved friends again - all the more so because of the contrast with the previous couple of weeks.
Even though I am a paying guest at the guest house, I am also treated like a friend and I was invited in to the main house to share a delicious soup and sandwiches dinner with Brigitte and Peter since I hadn't had the chance to do any grocery shopping for myself as I had only just arrived in Lusaka and gone straight to the guest house.
29 June
Spent the day around the guest house recovering from my overland tour ordeal and helping Peter with the English in his correspondence for the Mission. In the evening we watched the final game of the European Football (Soccer to you and me) Championship, which saw Germany playing against Spain. As most of the people associated with / staying at the Mission are Germans, we had a house full of Germans to watch the game. As you probably know by now, Germany played rather pathetically and ended up losing to Spain 1-0. Disappointment reigned and we all went to bed immediately after the game in a sour mood. As the only non-German present, I suppose I was the least disappointed, although I of course would have preferred for Germany to have won - just to help the mood of the people around me. (No Schadenfreude for me!)
30 June
Started the day with a trip to the supermarket, but I was unable to find the main things that I was looking for (pasta in a pack with cheese sauce in a powdered form that only needs water for cooking. I then add a can of tuna and some broccoli - and eat that with some baked beans and tomatoes - for a pretty well-rounded, tasty, filling meal.) The isolated location of the Mission, combined with my lack of transport and the lack of eating facilities at the Mission itself mean that getting food is my biggest issue here. I have to catch rides with people whenever the opportunity presents itself. There are good cooking facilities here, so if I can find the right food, I have a nice place to prepare and consume it. It's just getting it, though, that's a bit of a hassle.
I also had my laundry washed in an actual washing machine for the first time on the trip. A very good machine, in fact. And my clothes came out noticeably cleaner than it does when I do the washing by hand. Still, I won't give up the hand washing, as it is so practical when washing machines are either not available or very expensive. And besides, it's kind of fun to see the dirt being poured out with the water when I wash the clothes myself in my portable kitchen sink.
The afternoon I spent proofreading documents for Peter and for dinner I managed to more or less invite myself to join a group of four very nice Germans (Arnold, Hans Juergen, his wife Hildegard and young - and pretty - Barbara) who are here on a charity mission to help needy Zambians by providing scholarships for them to study. They were having dinner cooked for them by the wife of the caretaker of the Mission premises. The dinner was delicious, and I offered to reciprocate by cooking for them tomorrow. After dinner, I played for them on the computer some of the thousands of songs that I have on my mini-hard drive in MP3 format, and I also showed them the pictures from my trip so far. Arnold, who happens to share my birthday, we discovered, liked my music collection very much, so I'll be sending him a copy of the set once I get back home.
01 July
Went to Lusaka's central market with that same group of four very nice Germans with whom I had dinner last night. (Yep, I also kind of invited myself to join them - since I didn't have anything better to do today.) We were accompanied by two local guides, mostly for our safety as the market is a known haunt for pickpockets. The market was extremely crowded, selling pretty much everything from food to clothing - and offering all sorts of services, from haircuts to mobile phone battery charging. Arnold was looking for a suit jacket to replace the one he forgot on the plane on his way to Zambia and was pleased to have found an acceptable one at the second hand clothing market for only ten dollars. (Once again, they can sell this clothing so cheaply because they get it for free - from you - through donations made to your church for poor Africans.)
After Arnold bought his jacket, we had to pass through a very narrow alley in order to make our way to the vegetable part of the market to buy some potatoes for this evening's dinner - which, as mentioned, I will be cooking. The lane was so narrow that our group had to walk single file. I was the last one in our group and then a local jumped in between me and my group in order to cut me off from them. Then a second one came in close behind me. The one in front of me kept looking back in my direction, and I could see what was coming but I couldn't do much about it except to watch the events unfold. At that moment, a third member of the gang, standing in a nearby shop, grabbed me very firmly by the arm and started shouting at me "What do you think you are doing coming in here like this, bla bla bla . . ." Of course I was a bit taken aback because I hadn't even looked at the guy so I couldn't figure out why he was angry with me. My first (naive) thought that it was a case of mistaken identity. Everything became clear, though, when the two guys surrounding me moved in to try to search and empty my pockets: The guy who grabbed me and shouted at me was simply the diversion - to occupy my thoughts while the other two guys robbed me. However, they didn't manage to get anything because I had been warned about the dangers of the market and I had left most of my valuables at home. My camera I had in a zipped inside jacket pocket, and most of my cash I had in my shirt pocket, with about a dollar in cash (in small, unmarked bills) in my pants pocket - which itself was snapped lock. (That's one of the benefits of my safari pants: locking pockets - which makes them worth wearing every day for safety's sake - even if some people get tired of looking at them!)
This is the first time in my life that someone has tried to rob me. I was a bit shaken by the experience and I was disappointed that I didn't do any of those things that I always thought I would do under such circumstances. These events always happen so quickly and unexpectedly that they seldom go as we imagine, I suppose. I spent the next couple of hours fantasizing, as one does, about all of the things that I SHOULD have done or that I will do NEXT time something like that happens. Here is what I came up with: When the guy grabbed me by the arm and started shouting at me, I should have pulled out a big, sharp machete and whacked his hand right off. I would have held his severed hand up, giving me the upper hand, so to speak, and it would have probably shown his accomplices that they were not dealing with an ordinary victim. I would have then shaken the machete at the other guys and said "Do you want some of this too? Because since I have it out already, I'm more than happy to use it again!" At that point they would have run away with such a fright that they would have given up their lives of crime.
Since I didn't have that machete with me, though, I just kind of shook myself free of them - with the help of one of our escorts - and went on my way to rejoin my group, with my heart beating double time. (The escort who helped wrestle me free from the thieves was coming up behind from a few paces back and it wouldn't have been obvious to the thieves that he was with our group. So on second thought, it was probably his actions that saved me - rather than the thieves not being able to find anything worth stealing on their first quick search.) In fact, if they really wanted to (and why not: they are full-time, professional thieves, after all), they could have stripped me naked and taken everything I had, although if they had seen my skinny, naked, white body, they might have at least given me my clothes back.
After this experience, I am pretty much able to conclude that I am unlikely to be a hero in any robbery attempt in the future. The best I can hope for is to be prepared when I get attacked - by not carrying too much of value when visiting dangerous places, and by hiding on my person in various secure places those few valuables that I am forced to carry. (I probably didn't need to bring my camera with me to that market. I ended up not taking any pictures there anyway.) In fact, I probably didn't even need to go to that market. I knew that it was infested with pickpockets. I know what markets look like. I don't have to see them all, and certainly not known dangerous ones. What the hell was I thinking? Another inexcusable lapse.
Later that afternoon, after we were home safe and sound, I found out that the thieves had asked the protector who helped liberate me to "help out your fellow countrymen and just leave your whities to us so that we can rob them more easily". I'm glad that our guy didn't turn on us. That ten dollar jacket that Arnold bought could have easily turned into a lost camera or a lot worse. Still, getting attacked without losing anything can actually be a good learning experience. Thieves have lots of opportunity to practice their craft. We victims have fewer opportunities to practice defending ourselves. I just got what I think was some useful experience.
In the evening, after a nice long walk with Hans Juergen and Hildegard, we cooked dinner together, with me cooking the pork chops and the heating up the beans and Hans Juergen doing the mashed potatoes and the broccoli. It turned out to be a very tasty meal and I even learned how to make mashed potatoes properly from a real expert. (I can still remember the time that I first realized that mashed potatoes can actually be made from real potatoes rather than from a pack of dehydrated, powdered potatoes. It was in Zagreb, Croatia, in 1988, at the home of a Croatian girl, Ines, that I had met somehow back then. Her mother also made me the best scrambled eggs I have ever eaten in my life!)
After dinner we had another session of picture looking (theirs this time) and pleasant conversation. They really are a great bunch of people and I will miss them when they move on tomorrow.
02 July
I had my first taste of semi-independence today when I left the Mission to go to a shopping center more or less on my own. The nearest shopping center to our place is Crossroads, about two miles away. If I had to walk there and back, it would be a four mile round trip. I managed to turn that into only one mile of walking, as follows: Someone happened to be leaving the Mission just as I was, so I caught a ride with him to the halfway point, "Hilltop Clinic". From there I was able to catch a ride on a mini-bus all the way to the shopping center for only fifty cents. (The "conductor" had asked for 75 cents but I just assumed that he was trying to overcharge me, so I declined to pay more than 50 cents - and he accepted my offer.)
When I got to the shopping center I went into a very nice camping equipment shop and bought a bulb for my mini-flashlight to replace the one that had burnt out while I was camping. While I was in the shop, it occurred to me to ask one of the employees there how much it should cost to go from the shopping center to the Hill Top Clinic. You guessed it: Fifty cents! No more, no less. I was pleased to have gotten the "right" price in a place where whities usually have to pay a lot more for things.
I then went to the Spar Supermarket in the same shopping center and bought all of the things I had been looking for before but had been unable to find at other supermarkets. It seems that this particular branch of the supermarket is a rather more upscale one - catering to the richer demographic of this neighborhood. (It actually is an area with some amazingly big houses surrounded by thick, high walls.)
On the way back home I was able to catch another mini-bus, this time not even bothering to ask the price since I'm an old hand by now. I got into a conversation with the man sitting next to me, asking him who owned the huge house that we were just passing at that moment. He suggested that it was probably a politician. I, pretending to be naïve about such matters, asked him how that was possible given that government employees - anywhere in the world (well, except perhaps for Singapore) don't earn very much. He didn't mince words with his answer: "They steal it!", was his reply. Ha - where have I heard that before?!
Brigitte invited me to join her, Peter and Peter's sister Hannah (who also lives and works at the Mission) to join them for dinner. After the tasty dinner (cooked by Hannah), Peter retired to the living room to watch the news while Brigitte and Hannah and I stayed in the kitchen/dining room talking for hours - about the Unverschaemtheit of banks in general - and the Deutsche Bank in particular (after a horribly botched money transfer job for one of Brigitte's friends in Zambia) - and about languages (with the discussion started by our inability to find the appropriate word in English to explain "Unverschaemt".) The closest we could come was something like "outrageous".
It was a wonderful evening of free-flowing conversation during which we all added to our knowledge of each other's languages. On the subject of languages, earlier in the day I had discovered in a conversation with Peter that there is actually a word in German that has a completely different meaning, depending on which syllable is stressed: UMgehen vs. umGEHEN. The former means "to be able to handle, or work with", while the latter means "to avoid". (Or is it the other way around?!) I would have never expected such a thing from the German language - that the meaning of a word depends on its tone! From Thai, yes. But from German? That's unverschaemt!
03 July
Woke up at 4:30 and couldn't go back to sleep again so I got up and worked on my blog and read until 6, at which time I had my breakfast, followed by a shower and general cleaning of my room - or rather, having my room cleaned by the Mission's do-it-all man Simon.
In the afternoon I went back to the Crossroads shopping center to use the internet there and had a good session uploading past entries for my blog. Unfortunately I was overcharged because that cafe counts time in ten minute intervals - from the time THEY disconnect you. I stopped using the internet after just seconds under an hour but they disconnected me just seconds after the hour was up and made me pay another ten minute increment of nearly an additional dollar - which is more than the cost of the bus ride home - for something I didn't even use. I'm not going to let them get away with that and I'll simply deduct that amount from the total the next time I use their services. I'm sure they won't like it, but fair is fair.
Upon leaving the internet cafe I stopped by the sporting goods store from which I had bought some spare replacement bulbs for my mini-flashlight yesterday, and the rather attractive young lady who works there asked me if I would be interested in joining her for a movie on Sunday. Out of reflex I said yes, but now I'm having second thoughts. It would of course be nice to be shown around town by a local - and an attractive female one at that. But I don't suppose that she is only interested in the movie aspect of the date. I fear that she might use the opportunity to take advantage of a naïve young man like myself.
After I got home Peter joined me for a walk around the neighborhood and then I had a chat with Brigitte, Hannah and a visiting friend of theirs. By then I was feeling so exhausted that I went to bed at 19:30 - without even eating dinner, if you can imagine that. In bed I was alternating between shivering and sweating. My first thought was that I might have contracted malaria, but I don't think that I have enough symptoms to conclude anything yet.
04 July
I slept on and off for 12 hours before getting up for breakfast, and then went back to bed - sleeping and reading - and not emerging from my bedroom until just after noon. I wish I could say that I was feeling better after that but I wasn't really. I'm in a bit of a funk now, no doubt partly caused by a collapsing stock market to which I cannot react due to lack of a secure internet connection. My buddy Paul from America/Bangkok knows my habit of going into depression/seclusion when the market collapses like this - and he wrote in an e-mail to me that he guessed that that was a likely reason for my silence lately. Either that - or that I was boiling in some big, black pot of soup - a la Bugs Bunny.
Spent the day reading a Michael Palin travel book, "Full Circle", about his one-year trip around the Pacific Rim. In spite of being known for his sense of humor, his writing is as good as that of any travel writer I've ever read. I liked it when he described the activities in one of the hotels he stayed in as being "Fawlty Towers-esque". Or rather, I liked it that I knew exactly what he was talking about when he said it.
After another sunset walk around the neighborhood with Peter, I retired to my room for a quiet evening of reading, writing and sewing on a button that popped off of my pants today. I'm glad that it happened here in Lusaka where I could readily do something about it.
Comments
L1
Well - sounds like an eventful time.
I think I may never experience such.
Here's to the 'upper hand'
Art