A Chiluba (corruption-charged ex-President of Zambia) update for you. I know you're interested. According to Tanzania's The Guardian poor old Frederick collapsed at home three days prior to his trial. Doctors at Lusaka's University Teaching Hospital were conducting tests to ascertain cause of collapse. Oddly Chiluba "fell ill" May last year before corruption case hearings began also.
Have been able to keep up with sports comings and goings while away. Was able to keep up with the Super14 and World Cup cricket. DSTV (Digital Sports TV) is throughout all southern African states. Saw Arsenal-Chelsea game that gave league to ManU in Zambia, listened to FA cup final on BBC shortwave on ferry in middle of Lake Malawi. The European Champions League final was a fun experience. An overland truck full of kids was staying where we camped at Chitimba Beach Camp where we camped (on the lake, northern tip of Malawi) and we jumped onto a tray-truck one of them had negotiated with a local to take us 24km to a bigger village that had a TV, in a dirt floor "pub" - well, one room shack. But a storm broke just into second half and played havoc with satellite coverage. Also meant we rode home in the rain on the back of the truck. A lot of fun. We'll remember that one.
It actually rained all next day as we headed to the Malawi-Tanzania border and onto Mbeya. I mention this because rain has not been part of our story. Early, on day four in Durban, a huge thunderstorm broke and six people in settlement townships were killed. One night in Cintsa it drizzled. And on a Windhoek, Namibia, afternoon there was a 15 minute deluge. And that was it. Until Malawi-Tanzania border. We've caught the tail end of the East Africa rainy season. It had finished a few months earlier in Southern Africa.
Although people here wear jumpers and beanies and tell us winter is coming, we've not noticed. It was 39 degrees celsius when we arrived in Durban. I've worn trousers twice - out to dinner, and only for comfort, shorts were acceptable. And only ever short sleeved shirts. We just slow down between midday and two. I've only slept under a blanket once, the first night in Mbeya - it was raining and we were at 1800 metres. In the morning a BBC report told of the cold snap (sub zero temps and snow) hitting South Africa, killing people. For us, it's just been perfect. In fact weeks and weeks of not a cloud.
Our first morning in Mbeya, and heading uptown just past 8:00 when we encountered a very long queue outside the National Microfinance Bank (NMB), it opens at 8:30. Over breakfast I read front page of The Guardian and a lead story heading reads "Govt to sell NMB shares". I use shonky logic to put two and two together. I ask the waiter "is there trouble at NMB Bank today?". "Yes," replies the waiter, "the government sell all people's money. They hurry to try to get back." So, there you have it. The truth: The government is selling 21% of its 51% share to the public.
Mind you, with all that I see and experience around me in Africa, let alone in Tanzania, observing people eking out an existence, I'm surprised by another heading in the same The Guardian. 'Entrepreneurship seminar for the visually impaired.' No comment - mainly because I'm lost for words.
Another great trip commences: Mbeya to Dar es Salaam by train, 24 hours. We quicky drop off the Southern Highland, leaving behind mist and showers, and onto the plains of the Rift Valley. Deb and I grab a window seat in the bar (we have a sleeping compartment), lift it open, let warm tropical breeze swamp over us, watch yet another fantastic sunset and toast our position with a Safari Lager. Tanzania has authentic beer names: Safari Lager, Kilimanjaro Lager, Serengeti Lager amongst them.
The Safari label reads:
As the red sun sets like a glowing tribute to our work, our pride, our tomorrows, one reward is in order. Full bodied, full flavoured, a beer for a people of purpose.
Safari Lager - more than just a beer.
God, how beautiful is that - just about makes you weep.
Which reminds me, I don't mean to be painting a completely romantic picture, as much as there have been wonderful experiences. I feel sometimes I am on the verge of a sensory explosion. But this is called the Dark Continent. The press here reports stories with a brutal frankness, sparing no details. To the extent can be near distressing. More information than we have needed sometimes in reports on child gang rape, tribal skirmishes resulting in beheadings, witchcraft stories in poverty stricken areas, male and female circumcision stories - both unnecessarily brutal. The full details of an incident of a pregnant teenager gored by an elephant tested our limits. There's AIDS, corruption (which I believe most Africans just accept as everyday life), and political skulduggery. Not pretty.
And I should also say the trip requires a bit more patience now. There's more people on the make, on the take. Although English is still an official language, it's a version we find a little difficult to communicate in. Food has become a lot plainer in Tanzania, and few supermarkets to self-cater.
We briefly met an Englishman, Carl, in Nkhata Bay, Malawi. He pops up again in Mbeya and we go for dinner together. He is a writer, with currently three books on the go. He has been in Africa, this time, for two years, basing himself in Namibia taking off every three months for trips through Africa so he can renew his visa. He is the proverbial wealth of information and tells us and points out on our map a number of off-the-beaten-track routes to take, ones you won't find in the Roads Less Travelled section of the Lonely Braincell travel guide. He gives us the names of a couple of village headmen to make contact with. He's also on the train, but gets off at Kisaki to go bush in a national park for a couple of weeks. An interesting guy. We say our farewells, excited with prospects he has created.
Dar with its population of Arabs, Indians and Asians, means a treat in the food area. There's a big Moslem community so there's no getting away from the muezzin and the call to prayer. We had better get used to it. There will be a lot more later this trip. As a result, getting a beer with your meal gets harder. Alcohol is banned in most hotels.
Getting to Dar means one thing, we can jump over to Zanzibar. What a name. Since a kid, it has had the most romantic of connotations. Zanzibar. You just want to repeat it. An almost onomatapaeic quality.
Tanganyika gained independence in 1962 under President Nyere, and Zanzibar in 1963. The government in Zanzibar lasted but a month when a Ugandan named Okello topped it, massacring many and trying to rid the island of Arabs. He set up a Zanzibar Revolutionary Council headed by a joker called Karume. He in turn, in 1964, signed a deal with the Tanganyika president to form a union, and that's how Tanzania got its name. The Tanzania union was ratified in 1977. Zanzibar's leader, Karume, was assassinated in 1972. Julius Nyere established a one party state to quell Zanzibarian unrest, under a socialist system. He lasted five terms until 1985. In 1992, the constitution was amended to allow opposition parties. Africa, it's its own worst enemy.
Anyway. There's fast and slow ferries to Zanzibar. We'll take the slow boat. Hope we mix the voyage with a few dhows.
You just don't know how lucky you are.
Max
aka Mad.
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