Up until about 2 o’clock today I was going to start this post with the phrase “day 3 in the French Riviera”. But this evening we ventured further into the city to the Intercity bus station to buy our bus tickets to Kaoma and it was everything you would expect from an African city. More on that later, today started with a trip to the Arcades shopping centre to retrieve Jamie’s pass card which had been swallowed the night before. This required a taxi journey so we walked outside our hostel where cabs queue up and spotted our taxi driver from the night before, Patrick who Áine managed to convince to drive us there for only 20 grand (less than €3, I doubt we covered his petrol). We got Jamies card and he tried it in the machine again, guess what it swallowed it, we would have to return at 2 o’clock. Next stop was the Univeristy of Zambia which was a 20 min walk from the shopping centre. The campus turned out to be really spread out with large fields around all the buildings. The building looked like they were abandoned, drab concrete structures 5 to 6 stories high. (concrete buildings the worst sight since Madonna stripped off for her last tour). Our reason for being there was to give them some electronic engineering books that NUI had asked us to bring out, we weren’t told where to go, who to meet or if they even wanted the books. We eventually found our way to the engineering building where we met the Head of Electronic Engineering, who had no idea we were coming and had no idea who we were. He took us to a class room that looked exactly like the ones in NUIG’s civil building except for one thing, the locked gate covering the door. He left the room for a few minutes while we sat there not having any idea what was going on, or why we were really there. He arrived back in and at down as we nervously figured out how to explain we weren’t electronic engineers and why we were bringing him these (really old) books. He then started to talk and he turned out to be the friendliest guy ever (like nearly all Zambians we’ve met). He told us about the university and the strikes over the last 18 months, his education in England, going to work in the copper mines like his grandfather, how he chickened out of doing a phd and how he should be helping his parents look after their tobacco farm in the western province. We left the room and he introduced us to every person we met on the way. Telling each one the exact same story “these are civil engineering students from Ireland, you may ask why are they here, I will tell you why they are here to bring books cause shipping them is so so dear” it was so weird but everyone was so friendly and we given a full guided tour of all the Engineering buildings which were better than the old Civil building in NUIG. An unexpectedly interesting trip. After the university we went back and got Jamies card, stopping to have another top quality meal on the way. We then haggled for another taxi to bring is back to the hostel. The journey turned out to be memorable for the radio station alone. A few African preachers discussing divorce. It is possibly the funniest conversation I have ever heard ( I have said this many times but this conversation may be the gold medal), with statements like “if you are a welder and if you weld 2 bars together you have one bar, and if you hold the bar in your hand you are like god holding the marriage together” , “you may marry a young thin women but then she may put on weight and become heavy but women change in this way you must not look for new thinner women, women change but men do not” and “ you must manufacture your wife to be a good wife you must change her until other men say you are intelligent for having made such a good wife”. (and many more funny statements that I obviously don’t agree I swear in case certain people read this).
After getting back to the hostel we set off to the bus station to buy our tickets for tomorrow. Suddenly we were transported into quintessential Africa. It was unbelievable it was exactly the scene you want to arrive in when you get to Africa. The walk there took us along streets (dirt roads) full of street traders, women carrying shopping on their head and loads of people everywhere. It was so cool to walk down the street and the bus station was even better. The scene in the bus station is almost impossible to describe, imagine a dull grey concrete building but full of hundreds of Zambia’s in colourful clothing, food stalls everywhere, and buses and ticket offices everywhere (now multiply it x 5 and you haven’t even got close to the scene we witnessed). We then had to try and buy some bus tickets for the Kaoma which was an experience (imagine the haggling scene in the life of brian except with the roles reversed, they didn’t want to haggle we did). I’m pretty certain the tickets sellers saw four bags of cash with swag written on the side walking around the place. I asked at the ticket office for Juldan buses which was recommended to us but they told us to walk half way across town to get tickets which we w considered doing (or asking people we knew to do) until a guy tapped me on the shoulder and said “my friend, my friend bus tickets this way” so I decided to follow him (like the safety chapter of all guide books recommend) well aware he was trying to sell us a rock disguised as a very tasty steak (it’s still on my mind). So we followed him thru a narrow alley until we met his manager, a man sitting behind a small wooden table with 3 other people who looked like they would sell not only their grandmother but their own legs to get people on their bus ( when I say bus imagine an airfix model put together by a drunk kid with no arms). Needless to say we walked away with the old we’ll just go and get money trick. We made our way outside into a yard full of buses being loaded with all kinds of goods, and a bunch of guys fighting over cigarettes. (interesting side note Chelsea football club stuff is everywhere here). Two guys from Shalom bus company (in their cool yellow and purple shirts, might try and buy on from them) approached us and kinda corned me and brought me to their ticket office to discuss buying tickets. I discussed it and everything sounded good, good price, free luggage and a modern citylink type bus. However I wanted to talk it through with the other 3, when I told the ticket man this he replied with “are you a man, it’s a good deal you should buy”. Eventually we talked it through and bought our tickets. The walk home was just as interesting with buses full of nuns passing by singing hymns and cars and buses trying to drive down narrow footpaths (piles of soil that other people were walking thru)only to meet each other head on. After a bit if of refreshing in the hostel we arranged to meet the ever friendly Marie for dinner. We set off to meet her in the dark, walking along potholed roads without streetlights. Fortunately the walk was short and we joined Marie in “Chit Chit” for another top quality steak (for a tenner). We shared the restaurant with the dutch ex-pat community. After another fun evening we headed for home and were offered a lift by the white Zambian born restaurant owner (I love this country) past the local prostitutes. We’re off to Kaoma tomorrow at 8 which I’m looking forward to but by god will I miss the food of Lusaka. Possibly the finest 4 meals (yes I had 2 dinners a day) I’ve ever had. Day 4 beckons as does my leaba (bed). What a country between the fun of haggling, the experience of the train station, the unbelievable food and the niceness and friendliness of the people I must say I love Africa. Let’s see what western Zambia does to my enthusiasm.
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