“The first to apologise is the bravest. The first to forgive is the strongest. The first to forget is the happiest.” - unknown
Being that I had been stationary, excluding a week, within my province, I felt the time had come to venture out and take an affordable vacation to the other side of Zambia for a relaxing retreat. I had been in my village for the past six months and felt that some much needed R&R was in order. The destination; Luapula. A province just south of the Congo on the north side of Zambia much more lush and wet then Eastern. I was looking at a combined total of a 20 hour trip and after calculating and comparing, I found If I was to take a plane straight from Zambia to America, it would be a shorter trip then what I was about to endure. I wasn't looking forward to the travel.
I started off the trip immediately after my hosting of first site visit (new volunteers fresh off the boat from America staying to experience their first taste of village life), which marked my graduation from freshman peace corps volunteer to sophomore The few days that I had with the new volunteers reminded me of what it was like when I had freshly arrived in Zambia and had my first dose of village life. They were anxious, nervous excited and had lots of questions which I did my best to answer. When their short stay at my village ended and it was time for them to head back to Lusaka to being their training, I hitched a ride with their cruiser and began my long journey. First to Lusaka bus station, then to Luapula on the night bus.
The Lusaka bus station was a hectic dangerous place. It is well known that it is a focal point for affordable transportation around the country so it harbors an array of beggars pick-pocketers and opportunists all seeking some kind of advancement. After successfully purchasing my bus ticket and boarding the bus I found that our time of departure had long come and past before our bus had set out. The original scheduled time was for 4 pm with an expected time arrival of 2 am. However our bus didn't start out till around 5:30 pm and it wouldn't be the only delay along the way.
My seat, I had thought, was suppose to be a window seat, but to my disappointment, I had a center seat (bitch) in between 2 unusually large Zambians. Our body parts we initially tried to keep to ourselves for the first few hours, but just like flexing a muscle we grew weary of trying to hold such and uncomfortable posture and by the middle and end of the venture our arms, shoulders and legs began to intertwine and become each others arm, leg and head rest as space aboard these buses was rather scarce. It was quite the long ride over night with only 2 stops for the restroom and food which we were told were to last 20 minutes, but in reality were only a little over 5 minute stops and if you weren't around when the bus drivers was ready to set off, your seat on the bus would be forfeited as it had happened to a few passengers sitting only a few seats away from me. Seemed like they were trying to make up for lost time for their late departure.
After a night of dozing on and off complete with cramping muscles, stuffy air, and sweaty bodies rubbing against one another, we had arrived at our destination in Mansa. I proceeded with another volunteer (who was partaking on the ride with me) to the provincial house where I showered and past-out in seconds after hitting the pillow some time around 4 am.
After sleeping in, I met with my friend and we proceeded to our first destination on the agenda. A camping trip to Ntumbacushi falls. A Zambian national monument which I had heard was one of the most beautiful places in all Luapula. That statement, I doubt wasn't far from the truth. After a short (at least compared to the first bus ride) hitch in the back of a truck to the Congo boarder, we arrived at out destination, and a short hike took us to our camp grounds to which we found to our chagrin was completely desolate. The lone ranger that was in charge said that we were the only ones, and would most likely be the only ones throughout the duration of our two day stay as the grounds normally remain empty for most of the rain season. He lead us to our camp ground (the best one) and we found ourselves next to a roaring stream within a short distance to several picturesque waterfalls and rapids. We set up camp and began to explore.
Throughout our entire stay the weather remained clear aside from a very light shower on our first night. The rapids went up stream for about 2 km through amazing African scenery and beautiful terrain. Downstream were four waterfalls side by side all roughly 50 feet high. We swam all day, wading in the water, finding different places to sit and let the waterfall shower us with its cool waters. They were clear, fresh and it felt good to come in contact with fresh water not saturated with fish feces. We spent the day lazing about the streams only stopping to cook meals or take a break from the sun to play cards or nap. It was an ideal time where we made plans up as we went. Not being disturbed, not on anyone's watch, with no where to be.
The next day we went below the larger waterfalls and, because no on was watching, went past the spectator view point and headed underneath the giant falls to partake in something that we both have lacked since coming to Zambia. A real shower. The entire trip was marked with no problems, discrepancies or issues that troubled us. We had a wonderful time and upon our departure, the only thing we regretted was not planning a longer stay. We left with high spirits and with unforgettable memories and vowed that we would both return sooner then later.
It was now time for a few days of leisure at my friends site to see how she was living. Being that Luapula was a Bemba speaking province, my use of my Nyanja, though attempted, was in vain and most people just gave me confused glares instead of returning my greetings. Despite the language barrier I enjoyed my time away. I met many friendly neighbors who never stopped bringing me food, got to coach and participate in a school track and field day where I'm happy to say I won every race (however I was only beating six graders and perhaps a few older gentlemen but hey, Im old and have never run track and field before), and finally won a game of Rummy, which I find very enjoyable though I can't normally match with my winning success on normal occasions We watched movies, did some house repairs and for the most part relaxed and enjoyed one another's company. It was all to sudden when it came time to go back home.
I wasn't too thrilled about making another long bus trek back home so I decided to take my chances with a hitch back to Lusaka. After striking out over and over I began too loose hope and thought I was going to have to stay another night in Bemba land. But at the last minute a ride decided to take a chance on me. I was riding with three entertaining Bembas who enjoyed making each other laugh and playing their music deafly loud.
The ride was well worth it. After disclosing to them that I was a fish farmer, they began to open up drastically to me, telling me their personal life, plans for the future and what their profession was all the while the driver was doing about 160 km per hour weaving in and out of traffic like he was trying to time travel. We were in Lusaka in 6 hours as opposed to the 12 from the ride on the bus. I'm not sure if they were following all of the traffic rules or speed limits along the way, but I'm happy to say we all arrived in one peace unscathed and myself free of charge due to our new found friendship, though they want me to measure them a fish pond when I return to Luapula.
After one night in Lusaka and a quick stop for some supplies and groceries I headed home on a hitch with a preacher who loved American gospel and tried to convince me the entire way that witchcraft was real. When I arrived back in my village, a finally cherry to top off the vacation was that everything was in order at my hut. No pigs had breached the perimeter, my cat and dogs were alive and my house hadn't been ransacked by thieves in the midst of hunger season. I have to admit that I fostered a bit of worry about the state of things during my entire vacation. It was a huge sigh of relief.
It had been a successful vacation. My impression of Luapula had been that it was much more of a fisherman culture and a RAP volunteer like myself would have much better luck up their in keeping fish ponds year round and finding interested farmers. The people were very giving, similar to those in Eastern though their seemed to be more beggars and individuals looking for handouts then what I was use to. It had its advantages but also its draw backs but I found it to be a refreshing change from the dry mountainous regions from where I am posted. I look forward to my next visit.
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