Vic Falls

I took a long weekend to visit my first World Wonder, Victoria Falls. My boss insisted on me taking an extra day in order to really enjoy it...

I took a tiny plane on Zimbabwe Airways - the plane delayed, but whatever. This driver picked me up to go to the lodge where I was staying (I'm pretty sure I remember he proposed to me on the way there - I had to pull out the 'My parents will not let me get married in Africa' card).

The lodge I where stayed was completely open-air: when I first walked in, there was a little monkey playing in my room! The warthogs and baboons wander freely around this campground - that's the reason I chose to stay there, actually. There are birds and bugs and snakes and all sorts of creatures all around, and the breeze runs straight through the little lodge.

I had arranged a river cruise down the mighty Zambezi river. Not until a loud group of flirty South African businessmen explained it to me, did I know this was actually a booze cruise! It was totally fun - we saw hippos and crocodiles (my first time for both!). The sunset was so beautiful it made my heart ache a little. Plus, I got to drive the boat. Sound familiar?

That night, my South African friends invited me to the Boma restaurant but I slept through the night and totally forgot about them!

The next day, I woke up early enough to watch the watering hole from the breakfast buffet - saw all sorts of deer, birds, buffalo, and monkeys passing through. It was very peaceful. Then it was time to go to the falls.

The Falls are an amazing display of power and beauty - they're so gigantic, I couldn't believe my eyes. The spray from the falls rises 1.7 kilometers in the air - you can see it from miles around and it rains down on the whole park. Of course, with my i-don't-need-a-raincoat attitude, I was soaking, dripping wet by the end of our 2 hour hike. It was hilarious - i know all the locals were thinking, 'That silly american girl.'

In the afternoon, I decided to go on a couple of ziplines and a free fall swing into the gorge. I am writing this 8 months later, and my heart still pounds to remember the 75 meter drop! The guides kept telling me to scoot closer to the edge of the platform (read: cliff) so that I could jump off, and I kept saying, "No thank you." I think that was the strangest experience to have all by myself - I still don't know why I decided to do it without any witnesses :)

Sunday night I went to the Boma restaurant where traditional dancers and drummers played all night. Some of us ended up dancing on stage... and by us I mean me, but the dancers were quite insistent! I kept thinking to myself - how could anyone not love this? a traditional Zimbabwean dance party and the music sung by the band had such beautiful harmony.

Monday I wandered around the little town of Victoria Falls - there are lots of little touristy shops, and so much beautiful southern African art to look at. I wanted to buy it all.

I also went to the open-air market, thinking I might pick up some trinkets... not so much. The sellers harassed me in such a frustrating manner: I started making up fake names & ages for myself (I think I was 28 year old Amy from New York - just what came to me in the moment). I always think of my dad in those moments when salespeople really frustrate me because - even though salespeople sometimes frustrate him, he finds a way of telling them so firmly and politely. I pander, and then get annoyed and create a fake self.

Despite the annoying market vendors, I had a fabulous weekend. It was a time of renewal fo sho.

Pedagogy of the Oppressed

Since I've been backdating a few posts, I figured I should cover my Zimbabwe trip from a few months ago--

My trip to Zimbabwe followed closely after my second 3-week stint in Uganda, so by the time I got on the plane I was ready to take those sleeping drugs and knock myself out for 20 hours. The flight is brutal: 8 hours to Dakar, an 2 hours sitting in the plane on the runway, 8 hours to Johannesburg, layover, and 2 more hours to Zimbabwe. I was pretty nervous about going through customs - I'd been instructed to say I was there on business, but my business in Zim at that time was pretty undercover - so what if somebody started asking questions? I was also nervous about getting all my luggage - certain that little blue suitcase wouldn't make it. God was very gracious - no problems at customs, and all my luggage came through.

My boss met me at the airport full of smiles - he was so happy to finally get some support at our office, I think he would have welcomed Cruella DeVille. We walked out to the parking lot where someone had put a boot on his tire (actually puncturing it)-- we drove home on a leaking tire. My boss told me, "Abigail, here you don't stop at night - no matter what. Also, we don't follow any traffic laws." Ok, I thought - I can do this... maybe. On the way home, a gigantic rat crossed our path - literally the largest rodent I've ever seen. Otherwise, the streets were eerily deserted.

I stayed at the Holiday Inn Harare - a strange and almost claustraphobic-feeling hotel. By the end of my visit, the staff all knew me by name. They would greet me in the morning, welcome me back at night, and always call my room during my post-work siesta to ask how I was finding the hotel. I was like - fine, just as fine as I found it 10 minutes ago when you saw me in the lobby. The word supercilious comes to mind.

I went for a couple long walks through the city - and was always struck by what I saw: the infrastructure of a glorious city, past its heyday, and moving into decay and disrepair. I wonder if Ancient Rome had a similar feeling during its decline?

The roads had once been beautiful, but now there are giant potholes which no one bothers to repair. There are traffic lights and gardens and plumbing and bars, but the traffic lights have burnt out, the gardens are overgrown, the pipes get no water, and shelves in the bars are empty. The food is greasy and expensive. I think there was once a beautiful side to this city, but I never found it. I was more impressed by the piles of trash and huge 'cholera puddles.'

Most people who had not fled have this 'hunker-down and survive' attitude. You can tell people are used to an opulant lifestyle - everyone has a car, everyone shops at the upscale markets, loves fresh fruit; they even fly to Johannesburg for shopping weekends. But where were they when the country needed resistors and rebels?

I don't have any pictures to add here because if someone sees you snapping photos, you can get arrested or show up in some scandelous newspaper. I'll add some Victoria Falls photos soon.