Tribute to Mandela: my visit to Soweto

Yes, I know, I have been procrastinating since my last post 3 months ago. My travels in Africa finished on September 1st, day I came back to the US. However, not a day passes that I don't remember the fantastic adventures that I encountered, the life changing experiences I had and the great people I met throughout Zambia, Mozambique, Swaziland, South Africa and Namibia.

The expected but nonetheless sad death of Nelson Mandela, a great leader and person for whom I have a profound admiration, has inspired me to keep telling stories about my travels in Africa, a continent that as time passes is even more present in my thoughts. I've decided to tell you about the day I visited Orlando East in Soweto, not too far from where the great and compassionate Madiba lived for some years.

Rather than joining one of those day tours offered by so many agencies, I decided to go to Soweto on my own. It was August 18th. I was staying at Joburg Backpackers, in Emmarentia, one of the city's northern privileged neighborhoods. I woke up early, before 8 am as most days. After a quick and light tea and toasts breakfast, I came out to the main road and stopped a minibus, a shared taxi van that would take me to Joburg downtown after a 20 minute-ride for 10 Rand (1$). I got off at Braamfontein district, one of the most sought after downtown neighborhoods. It was a sunny but chilly Sunday morning, very quiet streets just about awakening. I walked for 15 minutes to Park Station, the city's main transportation hub. It is here where most of suburban and nationwide trains and buses depart from and arrive to.

Ghandi Square, Joburg downtown

Once inside Park Station, I found my way around to the sub-rail ticket office and bought a return trip to Orlando East station. I was directed to go to platform 7 to take the train. It was a dark and somehow rundown part of the otherwise state-of-the-art station, after all the investment that flew in to upgrade its installations prior to the 2010 Soccer World Cup. I got on one of the wagons of the train and sat down on one of the two long benches that faced each other along the wagon's length. It was half full of passengers waiting for the train to go.

It took about 45 minutes, long enough for the train to have all its seats occupied and have many other passengers standing up. In all that time, I counted more than 20 vendors walking along the wagon and selling snacks, home ornaments, pencils, notebooks, cheap jewelry such as earrings, necklaces and fake-branded watches etc. Some kids looked at me shyly and would take their eyes away when mine encountered theirs. I came to learn that many kids in Africa, not only in Johannesburg, weren't used to coming across a long-bearded white man as I then was. I sometimes played the trick of suddenly pretending that I was a monster with my mouth open and hands raised in the air in a chasing and menacing posture, which made them scream and run away at first and laugh, giggle and look for more after.

I bought some chocolate bars from one of the snack vendors as some others did, made notes on my diary and then rested my head on the wagon's wall while seated. The silence reigned in the atmosphere, most people were absorbed by their own thoughts while we all waited for the train to hit the rail track. My own thoughts were of wondering why such a long wait: is it always like this? do they always wait until the train is full? are there really few services connecting Joburg downtown and Soweto's several stations? or hopefully is it because it's Sunday?

The ride to Orlando East took just about half and hour. Throughout the journey, I must admit that I constantly thought about what awaited me in Soweto. It was a mix of curiosity and anxiety to the unknown. Many people, mostly locals, at the backpackers accommodation where I was staying had warned me about going on this visit all by myself. They tried to create an image of Soweto of being a very dangerous place. I would soon find out that they had totally exaggerated, or maybe they were just trying to get me to sign up for one of their guided tours.

When I arrived, I decided to follow other passengers out of the station. I had a very good first impression.  I felt at ease straight away. There were a couple of vendors of snacks on both sides of the pedestrian road. I could also see one of the street kiosks where you can buy pay-as-you-go airtime for your mobile phone. I walked for another two minutes and found a group of about 12 teenagers playing basketball in a public park. I watched them play for a few minutes before heading up the road into a nearby residential area. It was a very pleasant early afternoon. Several families of two adults with one, two or three kids were walking in different directions. A pair of boys in their late teens were moving rhythmically as they walked to the sounds of some funk music that I couldn't recognize.

Small kids were playing in the yard of one of the many detached houses that were common in the neighborhood. A young couple in their early twenties were strolling down the nicely-paved street as they held hands.

After about 15 minutes wandering around, I took a turn into one of the side streets. There was a group of small kids aged 6 or 7 playing around. A couple of young women would supervise them from the doors of their houses. One man in his mid forties came out from his house through the yard's gate and got on his car. Several seconds after he would be driving slowly in my direction. A couple of minutes after, I saw two men in their fifties chatting friendly in one of the house's yard while they leaned on the barred fence that surrounded the property. They looked at me across the street as I passed by.

I kept walking along the street. A couple of hundred meters after, I decided to turn around and approach those two men in search of a bit of conversation. As I got closer, I greeted them in the distance. They looked somehow surprised. As I got by the fence, I introduced myself and apologized for interrupting their conversation. From the house's yard and the other side of the fence, the usual questions of where are you from and what are you doing in Soweto followed. When I explained that I had taken the train from downtown Joburg and that I was visiting on my own, one of them offered himself to escort me and show me around. The other one excused himself for being tired and made a couple of suggestions of where we should go. In no time, we were off wandering around Soweto's nooks and crannies.

Jabu, that was his name, told me that he had been in the construction business for over 20 years. He was self-employed and had a small team of plumbers, electricians and carpenters that helped him provide his services in Soweto. His main customer was the local government. He would bid for contracts to build the utilities infrastructure for civil buildings such as schools, government offices and the likes. We talked as he took me to a shebeen of a friend of his. After 15 minutes, we were in front of a small detached house. The gate to the yard was open so we walked in and went around the right facade to the back of the house. We walked in and were greeted by a gentle man who introduced himself as Johannes Thadi. Mr. Thadi, the owner of the shebeen, welcomed us to sit down around the room's only table and asked what we'd like to drink. I ordered a 75 cl bottle of Hansa beer to share with Jabu. Mr Thadi opened it for us and handed us two small glasses.

From left to right: Mr. Thadi, Jabu and Ntambo

The shebeen's room was a small place that served also as a kitchen. I figured that that house wasn't only a place that served as the neighborhood's bar but also as Mr Thadi's home. I learnt it's quite common in South Africa. Minutes after we arrived, we met Mr Thadi's wife, who was preparing lunch. As I repeated my origins, told stories about my travels in Africa and started making conversation and feeling very comfortable, I asked Mr Thadi to please join us at the table. He accepted. I ordered more beer that we all shared together. Other customers walked in and joined the party. They all introduced themselves very politely and took an interest in finding out about my persona. Someone I remember very warmly is Ntambo Nhlapo, a young man in his thirties, father of one and employed at Macsteel, one of Africa's leaders in the production and supply of steel. We had an interesting conversation about his job, the company's recent implementation of SAP and my background in CRM technologies.

After about 20 minutes the place was packed, I was sharing beer with the whole table and we started talking about politics. They told me some stories about the country during the apartheid era, their own perspectives and how things had improved since Mandela became the first democratic president in 1994. It was a great conversation and I felt so privileged to have the opportunity to share those moments with them all. After a while I began to feel hungry. I asked where I could go get some local food. Mr Thadi suggested we went to a place he knew not far from there. We went together. We got to a house where a group of three young men in their late twenties were cooking chicken livers, kidneys and hearts cooked in big frying pan with onion, green peppers and spices. We watched them cook until it was ready. I then realized that I'd forgotten my wallet in my jacket at the shebeen. I went back while Mr Thadi waited for me at the cooking house. On the way back, a little boy aged not more than 8, came to greet me and ask my name. He started following me to the shebeen. Suddenly I saw a young woman come out for the next door's house asking the little boy to come back. He wouldn't listen to her. She started yelling. I asked the boy to please obey his mum and not to come with me to the shebeen. I walked in, got my wallet and came out again. The kid was with his mum, long-faced, and there were two men next to them who confronted me and asked why I had made the kid follow me. I explained to them that I hadn't and how I suggested him to listen to his mother. My answers were apparently enough to calm these two men down and clear their erroneous suspicions about my intentions. I think the fact that I mentioned that I was with Mr Thadi, the shebeen's owner also helped. They apologized for their reaction and I made my way back to rejoin Mr Thadi at the local cooking house.

Chicken livers with onion, peppers and spices

I bought quite a large amount of those chicken livers and shima, the staple food made with ground white corn. Back at the shebeen, we all ate and shared from the same plate. Between the time I spent to find my way around, meeting Jabu, all the interesting conversation around the table, the drinking of beer and the sharing of food at the shebeen, time had flown by and I didn't realize it was nearly 4 pm. I wanted to get back to Johannesburg before the sunset. One of the visitors to the shebeen, a lady named Clarys, offered to give me a lift. Jabu, probably feeling responsible for my well being, came along. They were all so attentive and nice. I said goodbye to all my new friends in Soweto and got on the car with Clarys and Jabu. On the way back to downtown Joburg, they gave me a little tour around other areas of Soweto, they took me to the Soccer City Stadium, where Spain had won the World title in 2010, they showed me the old gold mines in the south of the city, the place that became the epicenter of gold production and one of the main reasons, if not the one, why Johannesburg is the thriving metropolis that is today.

With Mr. Thadi, owner of the Shebeen at 5208 Mota Street, Orlando East

I had a great experience with my new friends of Soweto. With some of them, I'm still in contact today. In a sad time when Mandela has finally left us, I'm sure that with people like Jabu, Johannes, Ntambo, Clarys and all the others, South Africa will reach new heights never expected 25 years ago. Mandela's transformational dedication to its truest convictions to build a more just and better world can be seen in Soweto. These lines are just a modest tribute to his legacy. A legacy that is with us today and I'm sure will be around us forever. If you're ever in Johannesburg or anywhere else in South Africa, pay a visit to Soweto and let me know if you want me to put you in contact with these lovely guys. Their warmth and hospitality contributed to one of the most memorable days I had in my my 4-month travels in Africa.

Long live Mandela!

Lake Tanganyika

Since I left the safari camp in the North Luangwa valley, I'm experiencing what is to travel in Africa on my own. So far, I just have positive things to tell. I decided to go see the Lake Tanganyika. I took the night bus service from Mpika to Mpulungu in Northern Zambia. I got there at 6:00 am after 8 hours of journey. The town was already awake. Life starts very early in Africa. I asked for directions to the fish market, for which Mpulungu is renowned nationwide. This town is an important trading center for capenta, a type of very small sardine that is really appreciated all around Zambia. Traders from all over the country come to Mpulungu to buy this tasty fish and then transport it to the rest of the country. This occurs every Monday, Wednesday and Friday when boats full of capenta sellers get to port.

It's normally the wives of the fishermen who have the responsibility of trading after their husbands and oldest sons have spent the night before fishing in the waters of the many fishing villages around the lake's shores. Once caught, the fish is left to dry for 4 to 6 hours before it is ready for sale.

Once at the fish market, I asked around to find out how I could get to Mishembe Bay, a very remote place on the lake near the border with Tanzania. I didn't want to hire a private boat but to get there in the same way the locals do. I'm starting to develop an appetite to do things off the beaten track. After a while, I was told that the same boats that bring the capenta sellers early in the morning go back to their villages of origin once the trading session has ended. This is normally somewhere between 1 and 2 pm, which meant I had nearly 7 hours of waiting ahead of me. As I wasn't in a rush, I decided to pay attention to all the activity happening at the port. Boats arriving from all directions of the lake, the deafening shouts of the captains asking for space on the shore for the boat, the avid capenta traders getting ready to access the capenta of the highest quality, the female sellers, many of them with their babies cloth-wrapped hanging on their backs, opening the 25 kg net-like bags so that the buyers could inspect the produce, plus all the other opportunistic sellers of drinks, snacks, shoes, clothes and the like whose incomes depend on the success of the port's main

activity.

As I was standing up there and watching all this interesting spectacle, a local man approached and introduced himself. His name was Peter. He asked me what I was up to. When I mentioned my plans to him, he invited me to come to his store so that I could wait for the boat's departure there. This
gesture would turn to be a very nice and genuine experience. We talked about life at the fishing port, its activity, his family, his occupation as a small fuel trader and his plans for the future. Nothing abnormal there so far, until the point when he told me that the fuel, in its different forms -gasoline, diesel and parafine- was smuggled from Tanzania, where it was cheaper and where he had to pay no duties. In order to be able to keep his unregistered business in Zambia, he had some local police officers bribed with a few thousand kuachas a month so they would turn their eyes blind on this illicit activity. During those 5 hours that I spent with him, his partner Moises and a few friend helpers around there, we drank some soft drinks, ate some cassava, Nshima, fish, beans and even played a game of dames with bottle caps on a home-made and painted wooden board. It was fun! He then assisted me to negotiate the fare for the fishing boat that would take me to Mishembe, my destination in the Lake Tanganyika.

The ride on the fishing boat took nearly three hours. During that time, I got a flavor of the tight relationship between the people in the fishing villages and the lake. As the boat went from one village to the next -Chilila island, Chiptwa, Miamba- etc, I could appreciate how their lives depend on the lake. As some villagers, mostly fishermen and/or fish sellers, disembarked or came aboard the boat, there was always a great expectation by the village children that would come near the boat surprised to see a 'Muzungu', many of them probably for the first time, and were so keen on posing for the photos that I was taking from the boat.

Their main source of income comes from the trade of capenta an other types of fishes. They drink the water from the lake. They wash themselves up and their clothes in the lake. Even most of their leisure time is spent in or by the lake. Zambia can only claim 7% percent of the Tanganyika waters. The remaining is Tanzania, Burundi and the Republic Democratic of Congo, countries that bathed by its waters.

I arrived in Mishembe in the late afternoon.

This is a very small and secluded bay whose water front's length is no longer than a football pitch. As the boat approached, I felt I was coming to paradise. From the distance, the palm trees leaned towards the shore as if welcoming me. A beach of a very light yellow sand was lying in front of me. A very steep hill, named Miamba mountain as I'd learn the day after, was overlooking this remote lake beach. I disembarked and was greeted by Eruni Mukupa, the caretaker of Mishembe. My plan was to camp. However, he explained that there were very strong winds at night times so he suggested that I occupied one of the three open wooden cabins available. They had been built on the slope of the hill and a certain height above the beach underneath. The rest of the afternoon, I chilled out and waited for the sunset to enchant me. The sunset was breathtaking. As the sun went down the sky started turning yellow, orange and a very intense red.

Then that intensity would start fading into more subtle pink and violet tonalities that would darken up until the night had completely fallen down. And it was a very dark night, already at 18:30, and all I could hear were the waves splashing into the shore and the random distant voices of some fishermen who were initiating their fishing activities like every other evening and that would keep them busy until close to midnight so that their wives and/or mothers would have something to sell in Mpulungu two days after. I learnt that this fishing activity is an every day ritual that they celebrate with songs, swims in the lake and a great love for what they do. I could only sleep inn short intervals that night. There were some mosquitoes bothering me; the cabin didn't have a mosquito net and the insect repellent didn't seem to be effective enough in those latitudes. I must admit that I was slightly nervous for being in the middle of nowhere, in a very dark place, sleeping in an open cabin with no door, placed on an unknown bay I hadn't heard about until just a few days earlier.

I was up at 6:00 am the next morning. I had agreed with Enuri that he would escort me to the Kallambo Falls early enough in order to try to beat the heat of the afternoon. These falls are 236 meters high, the second highest in Africa. It would take us 2 hours and a half to reach there. The first hour was a quite strenuous hike up the steep slopes of Miamba mountain. The climb starts in Miamba village, just 10 minutes walk from Mishembe.

As we passed by, some villagers came out of their houses to greet us. Enuri lives in the village. As we climbed the mountain, there were wonderful views over the bay and the lake where the waters are lost in the horizon. We had to stop for a rest several times. I could feel that I hadn't exercised much during the 7 last weeks I spent at the safari camp.

We reached the Falls just before 9 am. There was some construction going. We learnt afterwards that the Zambian government is going to promote the site as a tourist destination. They were building a visitors centre, a lodge and a restaurant. The Kalambo Falls are not as impressive as Victoria Falls by no means but are worth a visit.

They mark the natural border between Zambia and Tanzania at the point where the river Kalambo finds the fall into the gorge that divides the mountains Kalambo in Tanzania and Miamba in Zambia on its way into the lake Tanganyika.

I met Rufus, the official that supervises the site and the development of the tourist attractions over there. He was very enthusiastic about the apparent serious government plans for its promotion as a successful tourist destination.

After an hour or so there, we commenced our hike back to Mishembe. It was much hotter than in the early morning. I had to drink more water that I had actually calculated. This meant that I was about to run out of drinking water. There was no place around there or Mishembe where to buy more. I was also running out of food. At least some snacks like biscuits and milky and maize drinks were on sale in Miamba. As for water, I boiled some liters from the lake itself with the help of Enuri, who advised that he had done it before when other Muzungu visitors had the same challenge.

We got back in Mishembe Bay at around 1 pm. Enuri offered me to have lunch with him. It would be a traditional Zambian meal of Nshima, fish and beans that his wife would cook for us. I didn't have a lot of appetite. In fact, I was feeling a bit dizzy. I think it was a combination of the effort to get to the Falls and back, slight dehydration and the fact that in the last two days I had been eating quite poorly. I forced myself to have some of the Zambian food and then excused myself for a siesta. Two hours later, I woke up and already felt much better. The rest of the day I spent it resting under a palm tree, swimming in the lake and awaiting the sunset again before my trip back to Mpulungu the morning after.

The morning after, the fishing boat would pass by Mishembe at 4:30 am initiating the route along the different villages to collect all those capenta sellers and the fish itself for sale in Mpulungu. Although it was a very early morning, I really enjoyed that. It was still dark as we approached the fist village, Chiptwa, right on the Tanzanian border. We stopped there for nearly an hour before the boat was full and ready to go. I saw the sunrise from the boat. I saw how the village awoke. How the women would come with their 25 kg bags full of capenta on their heads. How some other women would come to the shore to wash themselves and cleaning their clothes. How the people from the first line of huts near the shore would come out to start a new day. The barks of the village dogs. The awakening of the hens. All that from the boat. At some point a huge wave of mosquitoes came around me, probably attracted by the strong odor of the capenta fish as it was being loaded aboard. The mosquitoes we all over my head, shoulders, back. I was wearing my sports jacket but my head was more difficult to cover. I tried to relax as I couldn't do anything about it. Eventually they would move on and mosquitoes we not a problem any longer once the boat would initiate its journey to the port.

The journey was somehow faster than on the way in two days ago. I talked to a local from Chiptwa for the duration of the transit. His name was Gasper, a fisherman, this time going to Mpulungu with his pregnant wife who was due to give birth within the next two days.

He was a very nice man who explained to me his life as a fisherman, the different qualities of the capenta fish, the seasonality of the capenta catches, the market prices for this fish, as well as his views about the Zambian government. It was a very pleasant conversation and the perfect way of putting an end to my short visit to the lake Tanganika.

Once I got to Mpulungu before 8 am, Peter and Moises, the fuel smugglers, were waiting for me in their little store. I spent a few short minutes with them as the bus back to Mpika was leaving shortly. In the early evening, I arrived in Mpika. I stayed there overnight before my bus ride to Lusaka the next morning. In the capital of Zambia I would spend my last two days in this country. I used the time to plan what I was going to do next. I had some ideas but no concrete plans whatsoever. After some thought, I decided that my next stop would be Mozambique. I bought a flight ticket Lusaka-Maputo via Joburg.

I have been in Maputo for the last three days already with some interesting adventures to tell. I'm well and enjoying and practicing my Portuguese in this interesting city. In my next post I will share some of my experiences here. I hope you did enjoy this post. Thanks a lot for reading!

Black magic-related crime and other anecdotes

My days at the Luangwa North Camp in the North Luangwa Valley have come to an end. It has been nearly two months since I arrived in this wonderful place at the beginning of June. So much has happened since my last post two weeks ago. Different groups of customers have been coming and going since then. It's been great to meet people who are so fond of nature and wildlife.

The other day, I saw my first black spitting cobra. We were on the safari car and spotted a long black reptile

about 30 meters away. As we got nearer, the cobra raised its head up completely adopting a menacing or rather defensive posture. A few seconds later, it ran away very quickly. It must have felt panic when facing a monster safari car like the one we were on. It was a beautiful animal and a pretty rare reptile to come across. What a privilege!

We also had a lion rambling at the camp the other night while we were sleeping. It was around 3 a.m. when some deafening roars awoke me. The lion was just below the bungalow where we spend the night. In the morning, the local employees at the camp explained that the lion wasn't alone. There had also been two lionesses around. The three big cats were apparently attracted by the impalas that sometimes graze in the camp´s grounds. Never ever I had been so close to a lion. Great experience!

There is plenty of these big cats in the valley these days. It is easy to find leopards as well. Today, on my last safari drive with the camp´s guide Szu and Merche, we came across a leopard less than 10 meters away. It´s such an amazing animal!They all come close to the river Luangwa for water and food looking for the best possible surroundings during the mating season. The other day, while we were opening a new route for safaris in preparation for new customer arrivals, we saw in the distance some vultures flying in circles 15 meters above some distant bushes. We approached the area. We got off the car. Our guide, Szu, spotted some fresh lion footprints as we got closer to the place. A few minutes later, we felt a very strong odor. We could then see what looked like a carcass in between some bushes. As we got there, we found ourselves facing the remains of a big adult male buffalo. It looked pretty fresh.

According to Szu, it had been killed not longer than two days before. There was enough meat for at least four adult lions for two days. We inspected the surroundings and also found fresh lion urine, a few hours old. The lions couldn´t be too far away. We got back on the car and kept going in search. About three hundred meters further down the road, we spotted them. Two male lions and a lioness. They were resting peacefully under some trees about 50 meters away from us. It was so cool to experience all this with a professional guide like Szu. He tracks animals down by observing the language of the bush. I have learned so much. Walking safaris is one of the specialities of Zambia and are certainly offered to customers here at the camp. It is without doubt a very different and richer experience compared to a more traditional safari drive. I highly recommend it.

 

During my duties as the camp´s cook, I get to talk quite often to Brighton and to some other members of the crew. And they sometimes tell me breathtaking stories. Last week, Brighton explained to me how his dad was killed by an elephant 32 years ago. Brighton was 9 years of age. His father was involved in local politics in his home village, Mebamba, not too far from where the camp is. One day, when he was returning from a local gathering in Chifunda, a nearby and larger village, the fatality happened. He was cycling. Apparently, an elephant that was feeding on some marula trees in the fields that separate Chifunda from Mebamba, started chasing him. He couldn´t escape. This is the story that he was probably told and I´m sure that there was some add-ons to it and speculation around it, as I don´t think that nobody actually saw what happened. But as he was telling me the story, I started to understand why Brighton, and many villagers that I´ve talked to these weeks, fear these big mammals.

A more striking story even is what we learnt four days ago. All the safari and lodge operators at the North Luangwa Valley are radio connected with the ZAWA (Zambia Wildlife Authority). As I was preparing lunch for customers with Brighton, we saw Boston, one of the other local employees, approaching the kitchen. I heard him talk to Brighton in Bemba, one of their local languages. When they finished, I asked what was happening. They explained that the ZAWA officers located at one of the park´s control gates had radio-broadcast a message. There had been a crime in Chifunda. A man had been killed by his own sons and daughters. They had apparently axed him to death. I couldn´t believe what my ears were hearing. I asked Brighton why. He told me a story of black magic that according to him served as a justification for these terrible events.

About a year ago, this man´s first wife was found dead. The village´s witch doctor determined that his husband had done black magic on her. His conclusion was based on the fact that he found a featherless dissected duck in his house. The man left the village. His sons and daughters were now abandoned without any parent to look after them. This same man did come back to Chifunda a few days ago, short after his offsprings took fatal revenge on him.

After hearing this story, not without a huge dose of shock, I asked Brighton what he thought about it. He said that we, Muzungus (white people), don´t understand because we don´t believe in black magic. He was convinced about his beliefs. When the rest of employees gathered around us, I could see that this belief in black magic was the common position for them all. I asked what was going to happen to all these sons and daughters of the assassinated man. They said that they would be arrested and trialed. At the end of the process, the judge would determine whether or not they'd be sentenced to imprisonment for the death of their father. Merche (my friend and one of the owners of the camp) and I then engaged in a discussion with them all about black magic, their beliefs, the existence of witch doctors, what science has to say about all this and so on. We didn´t get to any common ground in our different viewpoints.

Last Friday, we also learnt about the death of a lioness. She had wounds of buffalo horns. The lion is the only predator to buffalos in this park. Control radioed the camp´s scout (a rifle-armed member of the ZAWA that is responsible for the safety and security of the camp and during safaris). They requested him to go where the dead lioness lied in order to bury her. It is common practice that when fatalities like these happen, animal heads and paws are cut off by these officers before the rest of the body is put under ground. Poachers, although in minimal numbers compared to the 80´s and early 90´s, still exist. And unfortunately big money is still paid by undesirable people for poached or dead animals in this disgusting practice. Beheading and dismembering the animal, although terrible having to do so, at least prevents this shameful and illegal trade from happening.

Something more joyful, I´ve also been bird watching from the camp´s dining deck these last couple of weeks. The deck overlooks the river, which is a source of attraction to so many flying species. My favorites are the pied kingfisher, the saddlebilled stork, the cattle egret and the African barred owlet. I´ve alson been spending some time visiting the many beautiful lagoons within the park.

I am leaving the camp tomorrow morning. It's been a great experience here with Merche, Marie and all the employees, now my friends, Brighton, Derek, Isaac, Alfred, Jackson, Kennedy, Boston and the guide Szu. My travels in Africa continue. The next destination is Mpulungu and the Lake Tanganyka, in the North of Zambia, border with Tanzania. I hope I´ll be able to keep publishing more anecdotes soon. As always, thanks very much for reading and big hug to you all.

More adventures from the North Luangwa

The time passes by very fast at the camp. It’s been two weeks since my last post. So much has happened at the North Luangwa Valley since then. Two weeks into the winter, here below the equator line. The mornings and the evenings are still rather chilly.

However, from now on, we’ll relentlessly be approaching the summer season, not necessarily in terms of longer days and shorter nights, as this close to the equator the number of day light is pretty consistent throughout the year, but in terms of reaching much higher temperatures.

These days, as the river waters start to recede, I can see how the opposite shores are closing up on each other. Although narrower and narrower every day, the Luangwa will soon be the only source of water in the National Park, as it´s the only river that doesn´t completely dry up during the summer months. This means that the concentration of animals around us will be increasing, as the wildlife, especially the big cats; antelopes such as impala, kudu, puku, waterbak and bushbak; elephants and buffalos, come to drink. I love the breaks in between customer stays when we have some spare time to go on a drive or walk safari.

I’ve finally got to see lions, leopards and one of my favorite animals, the spotted hyena.

We also see wildlife all the time at the camp itself. A solitaire adult male elephant’s been visiting us a few times in the last couple of weeks. He comes around, probably attracted by the leaves of the camp´s acacia and mopane trees and the fresh grass from the dried lagoon on the east side. It’s huge.

The footprint of its hind leg was 52 cm of diameter, which indicates that his height must’ve been around 3 meters, from the ground to his shoulder. We could observe him very closely, at a distance of less than 5 meters, from the window of one of the bungalows, as he took his time to feed and move from one tree to another. We followed him at distance so that we could take some photos. As a precaution, the camp´s ranger, a member of the park´s security and safety squad, joined us with his rifle in case there was a dangerous charge from the elephant. I asked him why he was so vigilant. He answered that I had entered the dangerous zone in terms of proximity to the elephant, below 20 meters, while I was taking pictures. It’s easy to underestimate the risk when getting closer to these mammals. Albeit their size and weight, elephants are very fast animals. They can reach speeds of up to 60 km/h, and their reaction times are extremely fast.  It’s compulsory to have a ranger at the camp.

Their duties include going with the safari expeditions as well in case there is a dangerous situation, although rare, with animals that may pose a threat to customers.

One night we heard a lot of noise and cries coming not far from the camp´s west end. It seemed to be a lion attacking one of the hippos that inhabit the Luangwa. The next morning, we saw an injured hippo on the right shore of the river. Another 4 were around him, as if protecting him. Not far, a good dozen or so of crocodiles were awaiting their chance. This went on for a couple of days, the crocodiles looked ever more menacing each morning.

That morning I woke up especially early at 5:30 with the intention of enjoying the breathtaking sunrise. The hippo was already dead. His 4 companions weren’t guarding his body any longer. About 25 or 30 of those large reptiles were having a feast. They’d take big chunks of meat, chewing and gulping it with their mouths wide open in the air. Later at night, we could still hear the lion´s moaning roar, probably as if complaining about how unfair it was that he attested the killing strike for not being able to partake on the rewards of his effort afterwards.

Exposure to wildlife’s not only about big mammals. One night, after reading a few pages of ‘Bitterness’ by Zambian writer Malama Katulwende, I switched off my frontal light, lied down on my mosquito net-covered bed, and got ready for my sleep. It was very dark, as every other night. A few minutes later I heard something flying over my head. It flew and stopped in intervals. I wasn’t sure what it was. The thing was trapped inside the mosquito net. I covered my head under the linen and the pillow. I remained like that for several minutes while I kept on hearing those flying dives. It made me a bit nervous. After a while, I decided to get out of bed. I ridiculously stuck my feet out of bed to pull the mosquito net aside. The rest of the body followed. Afraid of being hit in the head by whatever that flying thing was, I was finally outside the bed and grasped my frontal light. I switched it on. And there it was, one of the many bats that abound the camp was unsuccessfully trying to fly out of the space created by the mosquito net as it protects the bed. I slid it up so that the poor bat could come out. After that, I went back to sleep and thought of this encounter for a few seconds. I somehow felt embarrassed for having been afraid of this harmless flying mammal. More embarrassing even if you compare my fear to its own. Bats are my friends now. There are at least 3 that sleep every night hanging under my bed. They come and go as they please. Their fast motion flies under my bed don´t bother me any longer.     

We’ve had several groups of customers staying in the lodge and going on drive and walking safaris in the last two weeks. I’m still looking after the kitchen and, more importantly, training Brighton. I´ve set myself up the challenge of helping him develop enough confidence for him to take full responsibility of it once I leave. We still have some challenges with communication, and misunderstandings still occur, almost every day. What I’ve learned is that I need to be very clear with him on what the expectation is, since his and my perceptions about cuisine are very different. How challenging it must be to ask someone to cook European style food when his cultural habits and traditions are so far apart! Nonetheless, I must say that I can see great progress. His level of interest is outstanding. And we still have so much fun while we cook together. Sometimes we even prepare meals outside, on the fire that they make with branches of mopane tree, we ask other members of the crew like Jackson, whom we name ‘the dancer’, Alfred and Isaac to join, and then play the drum and dance while we cook a traditional Zambian meal that consists of Nshima, beans, beef stew and cabbage. They're all great guys!

 

I’m still enjoying my days here. When the night falls, the busy day at the camp has set you for a good night sleep. The sounds of the bush, the wildlife at night, the wind breaking through the trees that surround the camp create a very relaxing environment that has a soothing effect on my sleep. Every morning, I feel really rested and ready for new adventures. I hope you did enjoy these ones and that you look forward to more in my next post coming soon. Thanks so much for reading!

Life at the Luangwa North camp

I arrived at the Luangwa North camp on June 7th. My friends Merche, Myriam originally from Spain, and Marie from France, owners of the travel agency Feeling Africa, have this safari lodge in the middle of the North Luangwa National Park in northern east Zambia, 5 hours drive from Mpika, the closest town.

The place is wonderful. One of the best times of the day is the sunrise. The camp´s dining and bar area has a deck overlooking the river and is facing to the east. These days the sunrise occurs a few minutes after 6 am. Just moments before, the horizon starts to be painted with the typical orange and pink colours that announce that the sun´s about to rise above the trees at the far end of the river. It then shows itself and iluminates the river with its blinding rays. It´s an amazing spectacle.

The camp lies on the shores of the Luangwa, where hippos and cocodriles abound. It´s environmental friendly. It functions with solar energy 100% of the time. The river is the source of all the water needs. It has 4 en-suite bungalows that serve as accommodation for customers. They stand at some 4 meters above ground level. They were built using local materials such as ebony wood, bamboo canopy and straw from the bush. The furniture such as bed frames, shelves, tables and sofa-chairs in the bungalows are beautifully designed with typical African and bush themes. They look astounding.



Two of the camp´s en-suite bungalows

Due to the expansion of the business, a new area comprised of 3 more basic bungalows and shared bathroom and shower facilities are being built at one of the far ends of the camp. The local staff are really skillful when it comes to working with wood. I´m amazed with the speed at which they´re expanding the camp´s facilities.

There´s always work to do at the camp. Maintenance of the premises and the surroundings is an ongoing activity. Two French friends of Marie are here as well. Their help's proving to be fundamental. Erik's a reputed professional in the field of tag measurement systems with great knowledge of electricity. Lillian is a diesel engines professional and world traveller. They are both making a huge a difference to get the camp ready for this season. There are also 7 employees, all employed from the local communities that surround the camp. Their names are Isaac, Brighton, Boston, Kennedy, Derek, Ibean and Alfred. There´s an 8th member of the crew named Jackson, who´s currently on vacation.

 

Without their hard work, I think this camp couldn´t exist. The days start very early, normally at 6 am, or even 5 am when we need to have breakfast ready for the customers to go on a morning sunrise safari. I´m responsible for the kitchen as the camp´s cook. I´ve always enjoyed cooking so I thought that this was the best way I could help my friends out this season. I´m happy with the daily cooking duties, although I must confess that doing it for 10-12 customers is pretty challenging. I´m also training one of the staff members. He wants to become a chef one day.

Brighton´s showing a great deal of interest in cuisine. He´s a 41-year old Zambian originally from Chifunda, a village one-hour drive from the camp, on the other sie of the river Luangwa. He´s father to 5 children, 3 boys and 2 girls, who live with his wife in Mabamba, another village 2 hours and a half drive away. He used to be a safari guide until he was in a pretty serious car crash 3 years ago. His uncle, who was drunk driving, was the one to blame for the accident. Since then, Brighton has a handicapped leg and had to give up his original profession.

Brighton´s especially good at baking bread and cake.
Every time he bakes bread, which he does in the wood oven that we have outside the kitchen, he tells me: 'Enrique, this is bush bread'. I have a lot of fun with Brighton. We listen to music while we cook or talk about random topics of Zambian life and their traditions. I sometimes hear him hum songs. On day I asked him about the song he had in between his throat and teeth. He told me that it was the Zambian National anthem. 'Stand and Sing of Zambia, Proud and Free'. A few days later he had its lyrics written down for me in both English and Nsenga, his mother tongue.

I normally prepare a dish having Brighton to observe me. If the dish is good enough, I write down the recipe for him. He told me that this helps him remember what he saw so that he can try one or two days later.  One evening, I asked him to please prepare dinner. The menu was onion soup as the starter and croquettes as the main course. I had made the mass of the croquettes a couple of days earlier; aubergine and onion. They just had to be rolled up, dipped in beaten egg and covered with breadcrumbs before being deep fried. I explained everything, prepared all the ingredients for him on the chopping board and left him on his own in the kitchen. One hour later, he called me to go check. He showed me the soup and asked me to try. It was good but had an odd taste, not the onion soup that I remembered. I then asked him where the croquettes were. He told me that he had put the mass of the croquettes in the soup. Obviously he had misunderstood or I hadn´t explained myself properly, or he pretended that he didn´t understand correctly so that he could go join his work mates to have their own dinner at the staff's premises.

I couldn´t believe it. I swallowed the sudden and slight frustration and smiled at him and said not to worry. After all it didn´t taste so bad.

That night we had soup and mass of croquettes all in one dish. Merche, Marie, Erik, Lillian and myself joked about over dinner. Anecdotes like this happens almost every day at the camp, it´s great fun, and make the days go by very fast. It´s been over two weeks since I arrived here. The first customers of the season have already being arriving. It´s becoming quite busy. And all in all a very enjoyable experience so far.

We´ve finally been able to connect to the Internet via satellite. I hope it´ll last so that I can keep feeding the blog. Enjoy for now and thanks very much for reading!



Zambia is an interesting country!

My engagement with Laura has been the highlight of the trip in Zambia so far. And I doubt that anything else happening in this interesting country will be able to match what I felt when she said yes. Many more things worth mentioning have occurred since my arrival on May 25.

As you know, it's not my first time here. I spent over 3 days in Livingstone last year. However, all I did back then were the typical touristy things that make Livingstone so attractive to the tourist: visit to the Victoria Falls, the bungee jump, rafting on the Zambezi River etc. Three days in a country isn't enough to even scratch the surface. This time, and so far, I've already been a bit closer to what is real Zambia.

Zambia's still a poor country. If by poor we mean taking in consideration western standards. According o an article that I read on The Times Zambia newspaper, the country's one of the highest illiterate rates among Eastern and Southern African Estates, and a very small proportion of primary school students reach adequate levels of knowledge in both maths and English. One day, on a 8-hour bus ride from the capital city Lusaka to Kitwe in the Copperbelt region, I had an enlightening conversation with the man sitting mext to me. He was in his mid thirties and on his final year of his bachelor degree in civil studies. He told me that he'd been saving for nearly ten years in order to afford the 10,000 kwacha/year college fee (roughly 1,450 EUR). In order for him to be able to afford this last year of studies, he had to sacrifice her 17-year old daughter's secondary school year with the promise that she'd resume after he completed his degree. The man named Victor, showed me a very harsh sms where her daughter threw at his face the fact that she thinks that he prefers his own education to hers. He kept telling me that he's in a privileged economic situation compared to the majority of Zambians, and even so, he could only afford one meal per day instead of three in order to achieve hid\s dream of graduating from college.

The Government only provides free primary school. From the age of 10, families have to pay for secondary school, those who can, apparently not many, and not to mention higher university education. It's believed that access to education for the general population is a must for a country to have an opportunity to develop, something that's a real challenge in Zambia. A great majority of the population still lives in a subsistence economic system, living in small villages that don't have access to electricity, clean water and not to mention health services. However, cities like Livingstone, Lusaka, Kitwe, Ndola and Mpika are showing a very promising level of tourist, agricultural, commercial and industrial development. It's a country of immense opportunity that I'm sure will find the means to overcome its challenges.

The Copperbelt region, 6 hours drive to the north of the capital Lusaka, for instance, with Ndola and Kitwe as their two main cities, has been attracting large foreign investment in the form of enterprises locating in the region for copper mining. The main investors are Chinese, Australian, US and South African firms. The Government provides licenses for the exploitation of this natural resource. The conditions are that the firs employ Zambians and that they engage under the Corporate Social Responsibility 9CSR) program. This is basically the destination of private funds to fund apprenticeship and education programs for the population. It's a good initiative. However, I think that it can increase the regional differences between those who have access to education and apprenticeship where exist these natural resources.

Zambian people are really friendly. And peaceful. they laugh and smile a lot. There are 73 different ethnic groups governed by their own Chiefs, who at the same time co-operate with the Prime Minister of the Republic. There's never been a civil war between any of these ethnic groups. One of the few, if not the only, African countries. In their friendliness, expect to bargain with them. When they see a foreigner, they assume they can get more money off you. This happens with taxi drivers. in the local markets and even in shops where the price of the items is not listed. They even try to get more money from you even when they've screwed up.

Like the day in Livingstone Laura and I got the restaurant where we were having dinner one night to call a taxi so that we could go back to our lodge one night. The taxi came. It was midnight. After five minutes, I could see that the driver, named Peter, was putting the engine in neutral while going downhill. I presumed he was saving petrol. Two minutes after, the car ran out of fuel. It stopped in the middle of the road. It was completely dark. We were surrounded by bush. There wasn't any lightning on the road. Mo other car to be seen around. he tried to start the engine several times with no joy. He then decided to phone a friend to ask him if he could bring some fuel to refill the tank and get us going. We waited in the car for 45 minutes. Several cars passed by but didn't stop. The friend came and put some liters in the tank. Peter dared to ask us for money to pay his friend. We refused.

He was able to start the car again. I don't know if he was tired, drunk, stoned or wgat, but straight away, the car started going to the opposite side of the road. After a couple of seconds of Laura and I shouting at him, he got control of the car and directed it back to the right side of the road. That was a scary moment. Five minutes after, we got to our lodge. I had an argument with him. I gave him a little lecture on the dangers of driving without petrol and specially the latter incident. I said that I'd report him to the restaurant so they'd stop doing business with him. he still wanted to get paid for his services. I felt pity for him so gave him some small money to at least help him cover his expenses. We hadn't panicked at all; I've come to realize that both Laura and myself are able to stay cool in such situations and worse. It certainly helps. But we probably need to be more cautious on what car we get onto in the future.

Something I am amazed by is how easy is to get connected to the mobile network in Zambia.You can buy sim cards and 'airtime' (pay-as-you-go credit) almost everywhere. From official operator centers to petrol stations, little kiosks off the main roads or small traders who are everywhere to be seen with their little tables and stools or wandering around in search of random customers. The other day I even saw some fruit sellers selling airtime in the local market. There are three main mobile operators: Airtel, MTN and Zamtel. I chose Airtel as it seems to have the largest coverage nationwide. This is my number in case you want to surprise one day with a nice sms or phone call :-) + 260 97 9644 7577

Traveling buy bus between towns is an interesting experience. So far I've done Lusaka-Livingstone, 7 hours; Lusaka-Kitwe, 8 hours; and Kitwe-Mpika, 10 hours. there's no single lane motorways in Zambia. All paved roads are doucle direction, which makes bus rides much longer. Driving in Zambia reminds me of 10 years ago in Turkey where you'd see cars, trucks and even coaches overtaking and expecting the other vehicles to make space for them when another vehicle comes on the opposite direction. It can be a bit scary, although you get used to it.

In a couple of occasions I've experienced sellers of water, soft drinks, sweets, dried nuts, smoked sausage, anything, getting aboard and sell to the thirsty and hungry passengers. It's also interesting to see a preacher bringing the Word of the Lord and blessing the journey before the bus heads off. Most of these preachers do it for a living. Zambia is a Christian country, Catholics beings the largest group, but also Protestants, Baptists, Pentecostals etc.

There's something else. I've got my own work permit. I'm going to be volunteering for my friend Merche, Marie and Myriam of Zambian-based travel agency Feeling Africa. They have a safari lodge in one of the most remote National Parks in the north-east. It's called the North Luangwa valley. Recent regulations require that also volunteers have their own work permit. I'll have to be renewing it every month. I'm required to go to the nearest immigration office to get my papers extended and my passport stamped up. Failing to do so implies huge fines and even imprisonment. I'd better not forget to do so.

we've the first customers arriving at the lodge pretty soon. There's plenty to do to get the lodge ready for their arrival. I can't wait to get there. be in the middle of the bush and nature, surrounded by wild animals, away from the civilizations as we understand it. I hear it's an amazing place with beautiful sunrises and sunsets. I hope I'll be able to tell you about my experiences there in the nest post. there's no Internet connection over there, so it might have to be the next time I'm at Mpika, the nearest town, where we have to come for groceries and supplies for the lodge. The trip takes 5 or 6 hours by 4x4 each way. Stay tuned. Thanks for reading!

We're engaged!

Who was going to tell me that the Chilean girl that I met in April 2012 in Livingstone (Zambia) would become my fiancé? What are the odds of a Spanish guy who lived in Ireland meeting a Chilean girl who lives in the US in Zambia? Laura was doing some research work for her doctoral thesis in Livingstone while I was traveling through Kenya, Tanzania and Zambia. We met through our friend Merche, co-founder of Zambian-based travel agency Feeling Africa. Just three days before I had to go back to Ireland at the end of my vacation.

Ever since, Laura and I have been in contact via email, Skype, FaceTime. That's how we really got to know each other, through conversations that sometimes lasted up to 4 hours. It didn't take me too long to realize that there was something very special about Laura. I visited her in Missoula (Montana), where she lives, in June 2012. We spent 12 great days together before I had to go back to Ireland. We went back to our friend FaceTime, day after day, until the next time we could spend some time together. This time it was in Boston, on our way to a wedding of one of Laura's friends in Maine in August 2012.

Every time I spent with her, I was more convinced about my feelings for Laura. Every time we had to depart from each other, I didn't feel sad for the distance between us that would follow. In fact, I was happy and felt lucky to have met her. I also knew that there'd be a next time, and that helped me cope with the circumstances of long distance pretty well. We always had and said that FaceTime was our friend!

The next time we met was in Europe. Laura got permission from her university to come to Ireland for over 3 months in November 2012. Writing the thesis is the last stage she needs to complete in order to obtain her Phd. She could work on her thesis from Dublin. We had a great time together. While in Dublin, we visited Rome, spent Christmas with my family in Madrid, and went to visit my extended family in Seville. All this took us to the end of January 2013.

Short after that, I had to start taking steps to break the distance between us. I liked the idea of making a move to the US and be close to her. I suggested this to her and she loved it. For me that was enough to make a final decision of leaving Ireland. And also use the opportunity to take some time off to do something that I had always wanted to do. Travel. What she didn't know at the time is that I also intended to propose.

What followed were weeks of planning and trying to arrange things so that I could propose in the same place where we met, in Livingstone. In the late afternoon of the special day, we did a micro-flight over the Victoria Falls. This was Laura's first anniversary present. The Falls are an amazing spectacle from the ground at the National Park, so massive, powerful, the sounds and sprays created by the Zambezi finding its way down the gorge to continue its course. However, from up in the air, they're even more impressive. You can see them from a completely different perspective. It's spectacular. The first thing that strikes you is the width of the river as it approaches the main gorge at the point where the Falls are formed. The colour of the water, all the vegetation and plains that surround the river and that extend to a point where your eyes meet the horizon, such is the vastness below. The small islands, some elephants drinking from the river and hippos enjoying a bath in its waters. 

As the micro-plane approaches to just four hundred meters of the main gorge, you feel the strength of the water falling, the sprays formed can almost touch your face, the striking sound makes communication with the pilot through the micro-plane's internal radio system nearly impossible. And you can see the total width of the falls at their full splendor, the waters zigzagging through the gorges as they continue their course, and the bungee jump bridge that separates Zambia and Zimbawe. All these marvels from up in the air with a beautiful sunset lightning.

After we landed, we went to the Royal Livingstone Hotel, on the Zambian banks of the Zambezi River, just a few hundred meters from the waterfall. We enjoyed the changing after-sunset orange, pink, violet, red colors as the night fell down while having a cocktail at the sunset deck. 

After that, we wandered around the hotel grounds for some minutes before suggesting Laura that we had dinner at the hotel's restaurant. Laura didn't expect it. I insisted. We were seated at a nice table in the roofed open terrace overlooking the darkened river and the hotel grounds. There was a very pleasant guitar music being played live in the background. A very polite waiter would serve the table for the next two hours. We both ordered Zambian traditional food; grilled whole bream with Nshima and a sauté of sweet potatoes leaves and tomatoes. Nshima is the Zambian staple food. It's made of maize flour mixed with water. The taste is very plain. It's Zambia's everyday bread. As starters, Laura had a salad and I a carrot and pumpkin soup. We watered everything down with a South African coupage white wine bottled exclusively for the Royal Livingstone, or at least that's what we were told.

While we waited for our food to arrive, we saw a group of zebras passing in front of us. This hotel keeps zebras, giraffes and monkeys at their grounds, so it's quite common to come across this sort of parades while you're at their premises.

I still didn't know when I would propose. I was still waiting for the right moment to arise. We finished our main course and the waiter asked us if we wanted to see the desserts menu. We had a look and fancied the plate of assorted desserts to share. As if everything was written in the stars, the waiter advised that it would take 20 minutes for it to be ready. This was the time when I thought that I'd ask Laura to go stretch our legs while we waited. It was such a pleasant starred night. We came to a second sunset deck by the river. We stood looking at each other, hugged, enjoyed the moment. And it was then when I took the ring in its box and placed it on Laura's hands. She looked at it. My heart was beating very fast. It took a few seconds for Laura to react. Seconds that seemed minutes to me. Then she said, 'its a box', and I said, 'Yes, do you want to marry me?' I opened the box, took the ring out and slid it in her finger. It fitted perfectly. A ring that had flown from Madrid to Dublin, then to Missoula and finally to Zambia. She said nothing but kissed me, tears dropping from both our eyes. We stayed like this for a good few minutes. We both knew it. But she hadn't said yes yet. I had to tell her that she hadn't answered. Then she said yes and we kept hugging each other until we heard someone say 'Congratulations', a young woman with a group of two or three others who came to contemplate the river at the deck.

It was very special. I felt so good. Laura told me that she hadn't any idea that I'd propose. Days earlier she had randomly been telling me how difficult it's to surprise her as she seems to be gifted in always finding out about surprises that other people prepare for her. All the waiting, preparation and planning for it to be at the place where we had met nearly 14 months earlier had been worth it. From that moment onwards we were not 'pololos' (in Chile), 'novios' (in Spain) or boyfriend/girlfriend but 'novios', 'comprometidos' or engaged. Or as we decided later, we started calling each other 'my fiancé'. My heart is full of joy. I'm a lucky man! Laura is a wonderful woman!

She's now in South Africa attending a conference before she goes back to Montana. I remain in Zambia where my travels continue.