Adventuring

Strange things are happening in Chikuni. There’s rumours and talk. Talk of spirits and strange goings-on. On a hill known locally as Singonya Hill. People saw fire on top of the hill at various times during the night on the weekend before last. This talk has reached the very edges of the parish, including Michelo over forty-five kilometres away. Nobody knows what was happening but people are curious and like to talk about such things. The rumours have even reached me, but there’s probably a reason for that…

At some point between midnight and three am I hear a man, down in the valley signing a ‘happy’ little ditty and later on I hear women singing a lonesome haunting song to the beat of a drum. People all around me are asleep and the night is cool despite the hot days now. I feel very happy having thought of, planned and am now in the middle of executing, a very fine adventure. You see, during the Sunday of my snake-tastic weekend I went for a picnic to a nearby hill. While there I thought that it would be a splendid place to spend a night and I thought the best time would be when the full moon was there. So a plan formed and I decided that the October full moon was the best as November is rain season and nobody likes camping in the rain (unless you’re a freak; yes like the thousands of people who go to waterlogged British music festivals).

The rest of the adventure went something like this… We set off late on Friday evening and by the time we made it to the bottom of the hill the sun was already setting in a blaze of red in the West. I raced ahead to the top to set up camp and made it just as the last of the light was fading. Kebby, Dr. Sam and his two boys arrived about ten minutes later to a swept camp area and a fire. Sam brought a tent and he set that up while I fumbled around in the darkness for more firewood. We had dinner that I had prepared in the afternoon (rice and extra yummy BBQ'ed chicken) followed by delicious yogurt cake made by Dr. Sam's wife. After everyone was 'full' I broke out the marshmallows and suddenly everyone could manage to eat just a little bit more. Strange that! I'd forgotten how ridiculously lush toasted marshmallows are. Soon my teeth where whaling in pain and so, you know, I just had a few more. Somewhere during cake, the moon arrived. It was bright red because of the angle of the sun relative to the moon I assume. It rose higher and higher and changed from red to orange to yellow to its familiar cream. After washing their teeth the two boys went to bed leaving me, Sam and Kebby to enjoy the fire.

With the moon up and it's brightness in full effect I went off on another expedition to find enough firewood to get us through the night. When I came back dragging branches behind me, I stoked the fire with the fresh lumber and we settled down for the night. No sooner had Kebby said the immortal words, “I'm not going to sleep tonight”, than he was fast asleep. I laughed quietly to myself. I too managed to sleep though it was quite fitful. At some point around midnight, Kebby told me the fire had burnt down. I said something like "that's nice" and rolled over to continue sleeping. Then I felt a nudge and Kebby repeated his statement. My sleep-soaked brain then registered that this was my queue to add more firewood. So I got up and moved the branches and tree trunk closer to the fire and soon there was a raging fire again. I seemed to add a lot because soon the fire was raging, about 1 meter into the sky. Kebby was soon fast asleep again and once the fire died down a bit and there was limited risk of us burning to death, I too drift back to slaying dragons, winning the lottery and Jessica Alba. Sometime after 3am the wind picked up and it got cold so once again I added more wood. Later still, a spider decided to try and climb my hand but I jerked with the sensation and all I saw was it making a hasty retreat towards the luminescent darkness. I slept on and off until 5, adding firewood as required when I started to feel cold.

Dawn was amazing! I climbed a tree to get a better view and was blown away yet again by the beauty of this world. After breakfast and clearing up we went to explore another dam and then headed for home. I think we got back to Chikuni around 9:30 in the blazing heat.

So it would seem your reporter is causing much talk amongst the villages. I had to laugh when Fr. Andrew told me about it just two days after the event, having celebrated mass on the Sunday in Michelo and being asked if he knew anything about the activities on Singonya Hill. People looked at me very strangely as I set off with full backpack on Friday complete with axe strapped to the outside. Strange mukuwa I’m sure they thought to themselves and voiced to their friends and neighbours. I’m used to it by now though and don’t mind.

Your camper in the middle of nowhere

My New Roomie

The room is dark, lit only by the outside lights. Inception is playing on my laptop for the umpteenth time and the remnants of a bowl of popcorn sit next to me. It’s been a long day and I’m tired. It’s also hot but the ubiquitous mosquitoes mean I’m in jeans and long sleeved T. Suddenly my attention is jerked away from Leonardo DeCaprio and is focused solely on the new arrival, Timmy. I saw Timmy arrive out of the corner of my eye but he’s hard to see in this light. So I decide to get up and turn on the light so that we can get properly acquainted. Timmy doesn’t seem to mind the light and continues to stand next to the coffee table. I have to get closer for a better look. Timmy is without doubt, the ugliest, hairiest and biggest damn spider I have ever met! Timmy the tarantula has way too many eyes and it’s got fangs for heavens sake. Fangs I tell you!! There’s only one thing for it, Timmy’s got to die!

At this stage of my life in Africa I’m used to uninvited guests. You get kind of used to it after a year involving snakes, spiders, bees, cockroaches, scorpions, frogs, giant arm-nibbling rats and heaven knows what else in and around the house. But come on, this thing is just ridiculous. I just stare at it in awe and unadulterated terror until I remember, it’s got to die…

Now as is the way, I just happened to have a wooden chopping board next to me; just the thing for squashing the world biggest, ugliest and deadliest (in my imagination anyway) Irishman eating spider in the world. So I pick up the board and tentatively move it into place over Timmy’s head, like a guillotine being raised in readiness for execution. I open my hands and the board falls. Timmy jumps out of the way and the neighbours hear a hysterical teenage girl screaming in the vicinity of my house. Timmy can jump! I’m perched on top of the chair wondering how I’m going to retrieve the stupid chopping board without losing a hand. I gingerly move the leg of the table towards Timmy and coax him back towards the direction he came from. He gets the hint and saunters across to the leg of the chair adjacent to mine. I reach for the board with all of my attention fixed squarely on Timmys legs. One jerk from any of his EIGHT gargantuan legs and I’m out of here faster than the Road Runner, be-beep. I feel for the board, clasp it and tear my hand back. Now I need to persuade Timmy out into the open and try again. I move the leg of the adjacent chair and he walks out a couple of centimetres. Again I lift the board, again I hold my breath, again the board falls and again Timmy escapes out from under the board. I’m beginning to hear him laughing at me and cackling “You think a puny little chopping board (weighing 700g) can harm me? Wahahahahahahaaaaaa” In reality Timmy decides that it’s all a bit hectic out here in the open and retreats back to under the far couch where I can only assume he came from. I abandon the useless chopping board and get the axe. No, actually I get the biggest saucepan I can find. If I can’t kill it then I’ll trap it. So I brave the floor (after clambering over chairs for as long as possible and enter the kitchen, keeping an eye on the last known whereabouts of Timmy. I emerge, saucepan in hand and (mock) bravery in my heart. I inch towards the couch, heart pounding in ears, adrenaline thumping through my veins and Leo long forgotten. But Timmy’s disappeared. Oh, of course Timmy has disappeared. I bet he hasn’t gone far though, certainly not far enough!

And so Timmy vanished, “like a fart in the wind”. I couldn’t see him under the couch, he wasn’t around the curtains and my torch light couldn’t locate him. He’s gone to live on in folklore, pub stories and my nightmares while I was left to return to Leo though I spent most of the rest of the film and night for that matter in (understandable) paranoia. The following morning I checked all around the area for him but still nothing. So we will live on in harmony until he appears and scares the bejesus out of me again. I’m kind of glad though because I don’t like killing things (with the exception of mosquitoes and cockroaches) even when they’re trying to turn my habitat into theirs. It turns out Timmy is a jumping spider. You can get full details on the family here and see lots of shiver-inducing photos of the species here. Of course it’s totally harmless but just you try telling yourself that when you’re looking at the ugliest, hairiest and biggest damn spider you’ve ever seen.

Your failed spider assassin in the middle of nowhere

(Image credits: Opo Terser via: villageofjoy.com )

Obsessing About Not Obsessing

“Yes, I know I only have {stupidly short number of} weeks to go, thank you very [bloody] much for reminding me” goes through my head each time I am told how little time I have left now in Zambia. I even thank myself because I’m the one that thinks of this most often. My time here is growing preposterously short and I’m beginning to obsess about not obsessing about returning to reality. Oh dear…

There has been a great many anniversaries fly past of late and there is still one to go. There were anniversaries of individual goodbyes to my most precious friends, winding up my London life, packing up that life into just one car and driving away from all that I’d known for 6 years. Just one goodbye and the beginning of the adventure have yet to be celebrated/commiserated.

It’s impossible to believe that I’m celebrating one whole year of being in Zambia. The time has flown by in a whirlwind of awe, self-discovery, memories and sweat. I can’t believe the things I’ve gotten to see and do, the most unlikely of friendships that I’ve made and the insights and revelations I’ve experienced along the way.

But as I enter the final chapter, I feel reluctant. I don’t want to spend my time worrying about what happens next. I want to enjoy, to absorb, and to wallow in all that Chikuni and life here has to offer me. A part of me is screaming like a spoilt child “I don’t want to go back!” Yes I miss my friends and family but damn, this place is awesome and change, especially great big being a grownup change, is scary! So I find myself obsessing about not obsessing about December, January and the rest of next year. I have a plan, the plan might just work out and everything else is just life. Nevertheless, I find myself having a certain type of conversation internally, “Stop thinking about it”; “No seriously, stop thinking about it!”; “Are you still thinking about it?” Aaaaaaahh……

So to all those that miss me, rejoice for I shall soon be back in your midst, begging bed, beer and brewed coffee (sorry, I ran out of thinks I need beginning with b). My time here is short but there’s still much to do and see. And no doubt I will continue to bore you to death with the details of it right here on zambianmaddness. Until then…

Your reporter in the middle of nowhere, for not long more