I obviously started in Namibia
Then went through Zambia
And finally ended up in Malawi
Okay okay okay. It's story time.
I call this one: Trapped at the Falls.
While we were in Livingstone, Zambia we met a guy who talked us into visiting Victoria Falls. We weren't going to go because the other two people I was traveling with had already seen the falls and we were kind of crunched for time. Our new friend,....lets just call him...Jason, persuaded us to make the time.
While we were walking through the park we saw people walking across the other side. You know. the side where the falls actually... fall. This was possible because the falls weren't full like they sometimes are. Well, obviously we decided we wanted to walk on top of Victoria falls too. So we went around to the other side and saw a path that clearly many others had taken given how many foot prints were left in the sand. We walked for a long time. Just playing around and taking pictures. One of the girls in our group was having some trouble traversing the rocky exterior of the falls and continuously fell into the small streams of the Zambezi river. This was made all the more hilarious by the fact that she was wearing a dress and kept flashing everyone.
After almost 2 hours or so of walking some people stopped us and told us the area we were in was restricted, we needed to turn around and... didn't you see the sign? (apparently we had almost walked all the way to Zimbabwe which is obviously not allowed as it is another country) Well, none of us had seen a sign. We began walking back looking for this elusive sign that (somehow) all four of us had missed. Sure enough, after a mile or so of backtracking:
oops.
At that point it was getting to be later in the afternoon and the sun was making it's descent. On our way back to the original pathway we were intersected by a guide who was apparently called by the guards who told us to turn around. Well... as it turns out.... it's perfectly fine to be on that side of the falls and go exploring.... as long as you have a guide. Yeahhhhh.... we missed that memo. It was at this point in our journey that the guide began lecturing us. "Where are you from" he asked. To which we responded, "America". The derision he felt at this was evident in both the scoff he made as well as the disappointed shaking of his head. We were not representing America well.
Now it became crucial that we get back in a timely matter, as the levee is often released at sunset and we did not wish to be swept off Victoria Falls. The girl who was mentioned earlier who kept falling was holding us up. The guide looked at her and said quite emphatically, "And what made you think your friend could make it anyway?!" We all died laughing at this. The guide did not get the joke.
We had almost made it back to where we were supposed to be. We could see the pathway. The only problem was.... it was blocked. By not one. not two. But THREE elephants. We had to be very careful lest the elephants decide we were a threat and trample us or chase us off Victoria Falls. It took about thirty minutes but eventually the elephants got bored and wandered off. leaving us a clear path to ... the path.
Here is a picture of the falls :)
Man, that story was longer than I expected. Although I was going to tell a few more stories, I'll leave you with just one more.
I call this one: A smelly bus ride.
The night we stayed in Lusaka, Zambia we decided to go to the mall. We had heard there was a Subway there and we were beside ourselves with excitement to eat something so American. As it turns out, the chicken teriyaki was NOT the correct thing to get. I had the six inch. Nicky.... had the foot long. After seeing a movie in the cinema (yeah... that's right) we called it a night and went back to our lodging to get some sleep. We had to be up at 4 am to catch our bus for the next day.
The next day we boarded the bus at 4:30 am, as planned. However, since things tend to run on "Africa time" here, the bus did not depart the station until after 6 am. It was at this time that Nicky and I both began paining in our stomachs. About 30 minutes into the ride, the pain was becoming quite worrisome. Nicky, being on the isle seat, turn to the man seated in between the two of us and asked, "My friend, do you know when the next stop is? I am having running stomach." She had high hopes that her blunt honesty of the situation would lead the man to give an accurate estimation of time. She was wrong. The man quoted that we would be coming upon a town in the next 30 minutes. We waited an hour and a half. Let me type that again. AN HOUR AND A HALF. Now, I'm not sure if any of you have ever been in this particular predicament, but it is not one you wish to be in for an extended period of time. I was beginning to worry I would not make it to our desired destination: a bathroom, or even a bush, or anything resembling a bathroom or a bush. The pain, at this point, was unbearable. Nicky and I decided that it was time for the bus to stop, and stop NOW. It was a dire situation.
Im assuming many of you have never taken public transportation in an African country. In that case, let me explain a few things. There are no empty seats. The bus does not leave until every seat has a person in it. Often, many seats will have more than one person. Also, traveling lightly is not necessarily a popular concept. okay. back to the story.
It was time to make this bus stop. Nicky and I begin making our way to the front of this bus which is crowded beyond belief. I, being in the window seat, was forced to crawl over our friend whose concept of time was far from that of reality. Once I made it to the isle, Nicky and I began hiking over the mountains of luggage and personal items of those on the bus. These are NOT activities you want to pursue when you are worried your bowels are about to evacuate themselves on their own volition, I might add.
We eventually made it to the front of the bus and made the thing stop. As Nicky and I are walking to the bathroom she informs me that she in fact did not win this race and she had already pooped her pants. I was barely able to process this at the time, as I was still fighting my battle. We made it to the bathroom only to find out that it is three walls without a door and a hole in the ground. and, worst of all....occupied. We did the only thing we could. We walked around it and dropped trou right there. Behind this pit latrine lay the rest of the village. Yup. We pooped in front of, easily, 15 people that day. Thank God Peace Corps teaches us to always, ALWAYS, carry toilet paper on our persons.
That bus ride ended up lasting for 14 hours. Seeing as our bags were stored under the bus, Nicky sat in her own feces for 14 hours. Yeah... I was the lucky one that day.
Before Peace Corps I would have been mortified by this experience, and definitely would not have been able to talk about it. Now I'm writing a blog and posting it on the internet so generations to come can laugh. I guess what they say is true. Peace Corps changes you.
:)
