Received this email update from Stuart... Yay for (some) internet!
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Days 3-4
It was nice to get some sleep on the airplane from Dubai to Lusaka. I
vaguely remember one of the flight attendants asking aloud if he
should wake me for my meal. In my dream state, I began practicing the
face I would give him if he woke me up. It would have been part “are
you kidding me?” part “do you know what my work week is like?” part
“do you know what this food did to me last time?” Fortunate for him,
he did not wake me up.
The first minutes of Zambia were much like any other flight. Taxi to
the terminal. Captain turns seat belt light off. Everyone tries to
get up even though there’s no where yet to go. But getting off the
plane was when it was different. We exited directly onto the tarmac.
There was a breeze in the 75 degree air that smelled fresh and clean.
The handpainted sign above the terminal entrance was welcoming. But
shortly following was one about Ebola screening. I could see the line
into the terminal was stopped for a health inspection. Thus far no
cases of Ebola have been in Zambia. By the time, I got to the check
point, I could tell it was pretty simple. Just a look at my
conjunctiva and temporal temperature. I passed.
The line began reforming in the next room. It was a small room with
several turnstiles at one end. Each turnstile was labeled – Natives,
Tourists & Visitors, etc. Someone behind the counter was collecting
money for Visas. I got in the appropriate line, only 5-6 back from
the front. Apparently this was fortunate. Occasionally multiple
flights land simultaneously and it can take hours to get through this
line. But I moved through quickly and, once through the turnstile,
was immediately at the baggage claim. It had kind of an
indoor-outdoor feel, but a functioning carousel was moving bags
around. I found both of mine without trouble – all the way from RDU
to Lusaka without losing a bag.
I took both of my bags and my backpack and headed towards customs.
The officer checked my passport and my baggage claim ticket. It all
checked out. They didn’t ask me what was in any of my baggage. So I
walked past them and out the door – free to roam Zambia.
Jim was waiting with a piece of paper “Stuart Pierce.” He would be my
ride for the next couple days. He works as the driver for Dr. Ben Chi
(based in Lusaka) and was willing (and instructed) to come get me and
take me to my hotel. As we drove through Lusaka, we told me some
unique cultural points. We discussed the expense of buying a new car
in Zambia. No one does – nearly all are second hand from China/USA.
We were slowed by police. Jim said that police are corrupt and are
looking at registration to see if they can stop you. If they stop
you, they’ll expect you to give them some money and they’d let you
move along. If you didn’t pay, they’d take you down to the station,
where you’d pay a larger fee. We didn’t get stopped – glad he keeps
his registration up to date.
I stayed at Protea Hotel in Zambia based on recommendation from Dr.
Chi. It was a nice hotel with good accommodations, excellent
breakfast, and good centralized location. Everyone was very friendly
and seemed very welcoming to me. I was set up in room 215 with a hot
shower, king bed, and two bottles of water. Perfect.
The hotel was very near a walking mall with plenty of shops and food.
I wandered there after briefly texting Mandy. I needed to get dinner
and a cell phone. There was a large grocery store called “SPAR”. The
arrangement was similar to all US groceries. A small mobile phone
company called MTN had a small shop in the grocery. After exchanging
USD for Kwatcha (K) at a 7.7 exchange rate, I bought a mobile phone
with minutes for ~20 UDS. I wandered out and discovered Zambeef,
which is one of the largest Zambia based corporations. Valued at
~17million dollars, it specializes in Zambian beef. It was beautiful.
I found a good place for dinner called Zamchick - fried chicken and
French fries. Delicious. Not as much meat on my chicken as at KFC,
but probably fewer steroids in the chicken. Mandy would be happy…
The next morning, I woke up, packed my bags, and prepared to leave for
Monze. I went downstairs for the complementary breakfast. It was
pretty amazing. I had coffee, eggs, 1 orange, bacon, a bowl of
porridge and honey. I met Ben Chi at a small shop behind the hotel
called Mint Café. I had an Americano and we talked about the
logistics going forward. He also had some crocs he wanted me to give
to Breen. He’s moving back to the US in June so was cleaning his
house when he found the shoes.
Jim picked me up at 1050am and took me to the Lusaka bus terminus. It
was like the NC state fair with no one speaking English and huge bus
loads of people honking their way through a crowd. Women were
carrying huge platters of fresh fruit on their head.
The heat had a lot of vendors out, especially those selling cool
drinks. Men were walking around with dozens of watches and sunglasses
trying to make a sale. I’m not sure who they’re selling to. It’s all
locals and poor Zambians taking these buses.
Jim bought me a ticket with the “luxury” bus ‘Muhazhandu Family Bus’.
Planned time of departure: 11:30. Actual time: 12:15. It seemed
like a busy day at the bus station. Lots of humanity clogging up the
roads. But we finally made it out and started our 3 hour trip to
Monze.
I ended up sitting with a young mother and her ~8yo daughter. The
three of us shared a two seat side of the bus. Our svelte-ness was in
our favor and the ride was comfortable. No air conditioning but
windows open. The local radio was playing popular ‘hits.’ They were
all African spirituals, though updated and hip. The young mother
beside me was frequently caught singing along. Occasionally the
lyrics would be English and reference “our Lord Jesus, Alleluia,
praise our God.” They did have an African spiritualized version of
“Old Rugged Cross” that was fantastic.
About halfway down, we stopped at Mazabuka. No one got off – most are
headed further south, many even past Monze. Livingstone is another 2
hours south and has a lot of touristy things to do (e.g. safari, etc).
Maybe I’ll go one weekend. In Mazabuka, I called Dr. Breen, he
answered and I realized it was the first time I had actually spoken to
him, ever. And I was only 1 hour away. The phone call was short –
gotta save those minutes. We left Mazabuka for Monze after a pit stop
for the drivers; no passenger got off.
We finally arrived in Monze and pulled into a large parking lot next
to the “Golden Pillow Hotel.” Not sure about the name…or the quality.
I called Breen and he arrived in a white worn down SUV (he doesn’t
drive…no car) via a driver. We packed up my bags and drove to my
Zambian home. Monze is not a large city but houses 30,000 people.
The bus stop was very close to my home so it only took 3 minutes to
get there by truck. The roads were mostly dirt but the main road was
paved with only occasional potholes. Driving on the left side of the
road (British colony), we frequently swerved to dodge potholes and
people who wandered into the road.
We pulled off the main road on to a dirt road leading to Monze Mission
Hospital. Breen lives on campus as their OBGYN. He managed to find a
room for me in a neighboring house. So I was living on hospital
grounds – and I thought I lived at the hospital in NC.
Stay tuned for more...
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