(Bear with me, as there is MUCH to read in this post.)
Flashback.
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Sunday night.
9:57pm:
In the morning, the inevitable happens: Monday morning. This I think to myself.
10:22pm:
I make a phone call to Monday morning, calling 10 hours ahead.
The phone is answered on the other end, it is Mbuywana, the person with whom I have called to speak. She answers from middle-of-nowhere Africa, precisely Limulunga, Western Province, Zambia. It is a small village, about eight hours from the capitol of Lusaka.
"Hello," she answers.
"Hi. Do you know who this is?" I respond.
"I can't picture the face, but I know the voice," she says. It has been more than five years since we have talked.
"It is Tyler in Seattle," I tell her.
She responds in great excitement, "It is so good to hear from you, this has already made my week!"
Mbuywana is the principal of the community school in the village. I started the construction of two new buildings there in the summer of 2008 and worked on them for six months.
We catch each other up on the past five years. I let her know that I am coming to visit in March, she couldn't be more pleased.
I ask about my workers, the ones who I trained, taught, and formed into a construction team. Most of them were simply villagers with minimal, if any, construction experience before I arrived. She tells me that a high school is being built in the area and almost all of them were hired. I almost cry.
My time in Zambia was the most challenging six months of my life. The challenges were everything from living in a place so different from my own city, to the language barrier, to workers who just didn't get the details of what we were doing until redoing it for the third time, to feeling like I was fighting the very people I was there to help, to be able to help. Throughout my time there, I felt great discouragement from it all. When I left, I was drained and exhausted, I had nothing left.
To hear that the men I taught and trained into construction workers had gone on to be employed in building another school: pure joy. Hearing this has confirmed that it was all worth it, the exhaustion, the frustration, the struggle, the anguish. All worth it. Not only had the construction of the school meant changing a community through the education of their youth, it had enabled and equipped my workers, that I poured my efforts into, to future employment through what they had learned and their new abilities.
I tell Mbuywana to let my workers know that I will be there in the Spring. She tells me to pass on thanks for all that everyone has done for their school and community.
10:48pm
We exchange goodbyes. Her Monday will continue.
Monday, I'll see you soon. I think this is going to be a great week.
Six months later. Present day.
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Flight #1. Flight #2 begins.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Flight #2 completes. Flight #3. Arrival to Lusaka, Zambia at 12:29pm.
So, here I am in Zambia. What better place to begin a grand adventure than where you left off with the previous one?
This return will be good for me. As you can perhaps tell from the previous reflection above, when I left in January of 2009, Zambia and I were not the best of friends. My time here had many layers of challenges. Undoubtedly some of those challenges were with and within myself. I’ve learned a lot since then, both about that experience as well as myself in general as I have lived some more life. This trip back, this will be good to put some better bookends onto one of the most significant experiences of my life.
At this point I have been in airports and planes for 31 hours. And I still have quite some distance and time before I will reach Limulunga, the village where I did school construction.
There are no terminals at the airport in Lusaka, no walkways that extend out to the planes, the ones you typically walk through to go between the building and the plane. There is a staircase that is rolled up to the plane. Once reaching the tarmac, you walk to the airport. As you enter the airport, a line forms for a health screening. The screening simply consists of a physician (of sorts) checking your passport for stamps of where you have traveled prior to arriving here. I pass! Once entering the airport, there is immigration just like anywhere else. Many countries have an entry form that you fill out before reaching the counter. Not here. You simply answer two questions, pay $50, and receive your visa. What is the purpose of your visit? How long will you be staying?
Final flight has landed in Lusaka, Zambia.
From there I go to an ATM. I withdraw 4,000 kwacha. The exchange rate is 7.33 kwacha to the US dollar, so I have withdrawn about $550. You always want cash on hand no matter where you travel. And here, you must. There are no shops that accept debit or credit cards. Everything is done in cash.
Next at the airport, I purchase a new SIM card for my cell phone that I have brought from home; it is unlocked. I will have a pay-as-you-go plan which is the standard here. I purchase credit for both texting and phone calls as well as for data to be able to use the Internet. Did you think that was possible in Africa?
A driver named Sunday arrives to pick me up. My host for tonight, Dave, arranged this. Dave is a friend of a friend (George) but I did meet him when I was here in 2008. From the airport we go to Lusaka Central Bus Station so I can purchase a bus ticket for tomorrow morning, it is always best to purchase in advance and there is no other way except for in person. Thankfully I know all these things from having lived here before and taken the bus across the country many times. (Note: In Zambia, vehicles drive on the left side of the road and the driver seat is on the right side of the vehicle.)
I let Sunday know before we arrive to purchase the ticket that we will need to find some food afterward. And so we do. I tell him it can be anything as long as it is safe, I can’t be getting sick! We go to the shop at a gas station. Yep, it is a thing all over the world. They have a small heated deli case and I purchase some mimosas along with water and juice.
Before heading to Dave’s house, we go to pick up his friend Kirby from work. Kirby is in Lusaka for business and typically is here three or four times a year. She works for a tax advising firm and travels to many locations throughout the year.
We arrive to Dave’s house, which is on a good-sized property. I am looking forward to seeing the dogs again. Lelo! Lelo is George’s dog that he left here in 2008. (You will meet George later in this adventure.) Now there is another dog that I was looking forward to seeing but I learn that unfortunately he passed away since I was here in 2008. Tantor was an enormous African lion dog, they were bred to be huge (aka Rhodesian Ridgeback). This dog was literally the only dog that has scared me, just simply by his size. When I had first arrived to Dave’s home in 2008, I did not even want to leave the vehicle. Was the dog barking or doing anything intimidating? No. But he was massive. I am not exaggerating when I tell you that his skull was the same size as mine. A dog just shouldn’t be that big! So, I am sad not to see him again, now that I wasn’t going to be scared this time around.
It is a full house tonight at Dave’s with others in town. I would have otherwise had a bed, but last one in earns the couch. Basically every bed in includes a mosquito net that hangs from above and drapes down all sides, to keep the mosi’s off! Couches don’t naturally have them, so I put insect repellant on my feet and face, I’ll just keep my arms under the sheet!
As you are already noticing, I write quite a bit. A primary reason is because I want there to be enough detail that you can actually imagine being in the experience. I recall a friend saying this very thing about what I wrote when I lived here in Zambia, “You include so much detail it is as if I am there.” So, don’t have any expectations that a post will take less than five minutes to read. Ha! And photos, I hope to supplement the written details with plenty of photos.
Friday, March 20, 2015
After a couple times of waking up and then quickly falling back to sleep (a symptom of jetlag), I am officially awake at 5:40am. As I lay there, I feel incredibly grateful for being here. I am also very thankful for a great sleep despite my bed being a couch, for no bug bites, and for no back pain from sitting for great lengths the last two days! I cannot remember the last time I awoke and the first thought on my mind was being this thankful for my situation.
Sunday arrives to be our driver again and at 7:00am Kirby and I leave the house. The first stop is to drop me at the bus station and then Kirby will be dropped at her work. It is rush hour, but Sunday knows his way around it. Sunday does a little off-roading as he leaves the main road and moves to a side road, up and over the sidewalk and then a similar return.
Lusaka Central Bus Station. As I have already begun to reflect on my time here in 2008 compared to now, I decided that this bus station is Zambia’s test for the foreigner. It is the test of where you are at in being able to handle this place. In my opinion, it is the most initially intimidating experience of Zambia.
Everyone is coming up to you, wanting to help you with your bags for a fee, selling you things you don't need; such as a ticket for another bus service while you have already told them you have purchased a ticket. Others asking questions that seem to have no relevance, them most likely wanting to start up some conversation to then pitch what they're selling once they have your attention (you can’t blame them).
So, you learn to navigate this environment, which is also similar of the market areas of town, which for me would be for my past purchases of construction materials. For example, there is an open market type area for raw lumber (hard to imagine, but we’ll skip over those details here).
What I learned before, I still got. I can walk through the bus station with minimal interaction, the uninvited type. Your approach becomes what would appear rude if to be viewed out of context. But it's what you have to do to maintain your space, in a way keeping others from being rude to you by not allowing them an opportunity in.
You're rushed, when you're not, hurrying to get anywhere just so it appears you won't stop to listen. You're focused on something although it is nothing, looking for what you are trying to find, scanning, not having any room in your concentration to make eye contact. All you're trying to find is for others to be thinking you're preoccupied, when you're actually not. You're great at closing conversations. Right. Away. "That's great. I hope you have a nice day."
Lusaka Photo Gallery
The test of the bus station I would wish on anyone. It would be fun for you, in hindsight. And fun for me to watch in real time.
The next test of Zambia, I would wish on no one. It is one of the worst experiences out there. The bus ride itself. And I have done it way too many times. Let me see if I can half convince you. The bus has five seats across, instead of four. Yes, you read that right. You see, they want to fit more people, what is comfort anyways? There are two seats on the left, the aisle, and three seats on the right. That would be 20% less room for each person, just a little close to your neighbor. Sometimes your neighbor has a different idea of hygiene and didn’t think to bathe before the bus ride. Oh, and it’s Africa, so it can be really hot. That doesn’t add any improvement to the prior item for your neighbor and it’s just bloody hot. No bus has an air conditioning system that can keep up with the heat on the outside and an additional 25% of people also making it hotter on the inside. And oh yeah, like the air conditioning is actually going to even have been maintained and be operational on our bus. It would be ridiculous for you to have even pondered such a thing. Hopefully your bus has a few operable windows. But it’s not a big deal, it’s only for eight hours. So, we’re off to Mongu!
I’ve actually managed quite well with a seat on the left, so only have one travel buddy. He appears to have bathed recently so now things are really looking up. And I’m in the front row so have an unimpeded view of the road ahead, which you will appreciate soon too.
The road to Mongu has a lot going on, sometimes that means a good thing, sometimes it does not. There are police checkpoints to pause at, sometimes the officer boards to take a peak at the passengers, other times not. There are many, many people traveling along the road. There are all sorts of vehicles as well as people on bikes, or with carts, or simply walking. There are many young children all on their own. Everyone is transporting something or going somewhere. The bus occasionally honks to indicate to people ahead that they need to move off of the road. Many stops are made along the way to take on additional passengers, as well as drop others off. Sometimes the bus even stops to take on parcels, with no new passengers joining. There is even a large clock with the incorrect time. It is randomly incorrect, not off by an hour or a few minutes. It will unlikely ever be corrected. Welcome to Africa.
All that aside, the bus ride is amazing! It actually is, but we can’t take all that aside. So, the greatness includes the scenery and any window from the bus has an amazing view. I have gone this way many times, but it has also been some years. I figured I would watch out the window for a while and then had my iPad in my lap ready to read a book, watch a movie, or do a course lesson. Nope, instead I take it all in the entire way (other than falling asleep near the end). The green of the trees and plains are fantastic. And you don’t want to miss any animals! On this ride I saw an elephant, a lone monkey, and a handful of impala. There was also a zebra that others saw but I did not see it before we passed. At the locations that are common for animals to naturally move across the road, there are slower speed zones and a series of speed bumps to slow down vehicles. The road even passes through Kafue National Park, the second largest park in Africa.
Oh, and I almost forgot about another thing that can add to the length and excitement of the journey, the potholes! Although there are great long portions of this road that are all intact, there are others that are not. Frequently the bus will slow down and steer around them. Many times this even means one side of the bus goes just off the road, so the wheels can miss a pothole. Now most of those times it seems to me that just going over the pot hole would have been about the same, but what do I know. There are some areas that are so bad that there is a ‘temporary’ road built in parallel and the bus goes on that. One section, there is no pavement remaining, nor a temporary road.
And the clouds, I had forgotten how much I love the clouds! The clouds can be so white and fluffy and however they have been laid out normally ends up being close to magnificent. And if they have laid themselves out just right, a strange effect occurs as you are driving towards them. They should be coming closer, right? But somehow there can be an optical illusion with the clouds out ahead and it can actually appear that they are moving further away, as if the bus is what is pushing them. (No, this is not the jetlag talking.)
We do take a handful of breaks at locations where snacks can be purchased and bathrooms used. All the bathrooms have fee toilets, costing one or two kwacha ($0.14 or $0.28) and there are not even any porcelain plumbing fixtures to be found at some of the stops. At one location we stopped, there was a pool table under a covered area and the locals were just playing away. It seemed a bit out of place for the middle of Africa.
Lusaka-Mongu Bus Ride Photo Gallery
At 4:30pm, the bus arrives in Mongu. We have now travelled the full length of the Great West Road (from Lusaka to Mongu) and are now in Western Province. We are now also in Barotseland. Barotseland is more than an area; it is a kingdom, the Kingdom of Barotseland. It has no geographic lines on Google Maps, but it remains significant to this day, an area that actually covers beyond the borders of Zambia. There are still kings, which means there are still princes and princesses. But, details on all that will wait for another post.
The bus station in Mongu has similar excitement to the one we have departed from in Lusaka, funny that multiple people all tell me they are my taxi driver. I do take a taxi. A 1990 Toyota Corolla, not bad, not bad at all. From the bus station we immediately go to a gas station. They have no fuel, so we go to another. – I don’t know how, but I had forgotten a thing about taxi service here. No taxi here will ever have a full tank of gas, and frequently they are running so close to empty that they wait for a fare and then go direct to a gas station to put in some fuel so they can actually take that fare to where they would like to go. – The second gas station also does not have any fuel, apparently there is none in Mongu and there have been fuel shortages recently. Good luck to us, we have about five miles to go north.
We are heading to Liseli Lodge in Malengwa, but the driver doesn’t know the place. Once we are near, he makes a stop to ask where it is, as I don’t know either, I haven’t stayed there before. He turns off the Corolla to preserve fuel. After receiving direction, he goes to start the car. It won’t start. He tries again. It does.
We go a short distance further and arrive at the lodge where I will be staying. I am walking away from the taxi with my bags as the driver returns into the car. I really don’t want to watch this car not start and then need to help push it to a location to sit for the night. I keep walking and don’t watch. I hear it start. Amen.
Liseli Lodge is pretty sweet. There are multiple buildings on the property: a large house, a small house, three chalets, and a central gazebo. What brings me to be staying at this accommodation is my friend Jessica who I met here in 2008. She is a nurse and was here from Canada back then. She returns every year with a group of university nursing students and when I have come now happens to be during the time the group is here each year. So for my lodging, I have joined 16 nursing students from the University of British Columbia Okanogan who are staying here. I will be staying in one of the chalets, the one Jessica is in. To top that all off, cold beers at the lodge: $1. Welcome!!
It is already late in the day, so making it to Limulunga will have to wait until tomorrow.
Saturday, March 21, 2015
The day starts off with tea with Amarula. That is, tea with cream liqueur. The day starts off well. Good morning!
I end up making crepes for breakfast, partnered with Nutella and sliced bananas. This is quite fitting considering banana pancakes had become a thing in 2008 for Jessica and I (and Lianne too). Back then we lived in Mongu.
It is only my first day, but I already find myself on Africa time. I had originally aimed to be to Limulunga some time in the morning, but it is about 1:30pm by the time I now start out. From the place I stay, it is just another five miles north.
After putting a couple items in a bag, and applying sunscreen for the first time this year, I head out on foot. No, I’m not walking the whole way, but I’ll start out on foot until a bus finds me wherever I’m at along the road. I probably walk about a mile before a bus comes along. (All the buses in this area are small, basically a van, and called a mini bus.) Shortly after that, I arrive at Mukola House.
Mukola House is where Mbuywana lives. She is the principal of the school where I previously built, she will also be 70 years old this year. Maureen is also there, whom I know from my time here before. And soon Mutinta joins us as well. He is the head teacher at the school. We catch up on many things.
Mbuywana asks me about this website, because she is confused what this is about and if this is a business or what. I laugh. She doesn’t understand the name. So I explain. The name can mean different things, it is intentionally ambiguous and it is okay because the different things that it can mean are all related, so it is okay if it means any of them, or all of them. It is up to you!
From there, Mutinta and I go out to Limulunga Community School. The school is a community school. That means there are no fees for students to attend, such as is the case at all public schools. The school is able to function from community contributions, including volunteer teachers, as well as donations as they may come and go. Sometimes there are donations enough to be able to provide the teachers with some level of salary for the month, which is ideal. The school provides education through grade seven.
It is amazing to be here six years later and see what I started along with what has followed after my time. I had started the work for two new buildings that were to have eight classrooms each. When I left in January 2009, one building had the walls up to roof level and the roof system materials had just arrived from South Africa. The other building had been laid out and the earth dug out for the foundations, but due to funding I was not able to start bringing that building up, as had been the plan. Now, these buildings are complete. The first was finished right after I left. The other was continued and finished some time later after additional funds were raised. It is so cool to see the final details a reality, such as the veranda walkways. Until now, these details I had worked out had remained in my imagination, now I walk through the veranda. It is all part of the roof system I drew up before ordering the materials to be cut to custom length and shipped from South Africa. This is so cool!
The first thing that I had done when I was here in 2008 was bring their new bore hole online and active. It have been drilled before I arrived. What had been next was to have a tank stand constructed, place the tank way up on top, build a pump house, then install the pump along with the electrical and piping. Surprisingly, it was quite the process for all that to be completed. That small pump house had been one of my prides, specifically its locking roof system that I came up with; just one lock to secure the whole roof, remove it and the whole roof was easily removable: functional security.
But now, I see that the pump house is completely gone! I was a little shocked and sad to be honest. I had heard that the electrical pump had been damaged and now a windmill had been built to pump the water. But I hadn’t imagined that the house would be gone. It was in the way to build the windmill, so it was taken down. Apparently the pump burned up due to it running and not pumping any water, instead of the pump being replaced, a group built the windmill to provide the pumping of the water.
Mutinta and I take a look around the buildings to decide on what things are in need of maintenance and repair. Before I left home, I raised a small amount of funds to be able to do a couple projects at the school.
Some additional donations could definitely be used for the purchase of needed items. Please EMAIL me if you are interested in contributing.
Limulunga Community School Photo Gallery
I take a mini bus from the school into Mongu to meet up with the group of nursing students for drinks at a hotel, followed by dinner at a restaurant. On the bus ride, I see a man riding a bike and with one hand carrying a duck off to the side by holding it behind the wings. I was not able to take a picture, but these are the types of things you see here!
I have yet to see any of my workers, but I will very soon. I wake up in the middle of the night to see a text from Ngela, one of my workers, which had arrived after I had gone to bed.
“Hai Tyler, welcome to Barotse land, I am very happy to hear that you have come. I would be very happy if you could find time, so that you visit my home and see the progress that I have made out of your encouragements, when you were here, from Ngela.”
As you come to the end of this post, I hope you have enjoyed it! As this journey continues, I will continue to be selective to share what I think will be most interesting for you to read and also for me to write. For some days I may include 90% of what happened and others just 10% if far less exciting things have occurred, it happens.