After much safari-ing in northern Namibia and Botswana, it was finally time to stock up on food and essentials to last us a month in Zimbabwe and cross the border. We weren’t quite sure what to expect on the other side. We had all heard increasingly desperate accounts of the situation from the news. Would we be safe? Would we see people starving on the side of the road, like you see in adopt-a-child ads? We had no idea what were getting into.
There was a rather heated debate on whether or not we should bring extra food into the country, if it would result in our being mobbed, or if all would be ok – and if so, how to disperse of it in a way that would keep us from being mobbed once word got out that we were giving food away. Additionally, we weren’t equipped for humanitarian work nor would we “solve the greater problem” (i.e. world hunger). While these were fair points, I felt that this was an opportunity to do some good. Even if we were mobbed, it would be better to have some extra food on hand for the attackers than to have to give from our personal stash. I just couldn’t face the idea of coming across someone who was genuinely starving and NOT give them anything at all. Let’s put it this way – if someone were to walk upon an act of harm, such as a rape or mugging, and not do anything about it because “rapes would still happen,” would that make sense?
I decided, what the hell. I’d pick up some extra food, store it in my own personal locker, and “see what happens.” Why not – if we were to be mobbed we’d probably be mobbed anyway. I wasn’t out to save the world or single-handedly solve world hunger, but if I could help one family by giving them a pound of very-hard-to-come-by baby food, I would do it. Why not? I’m here. Might as well do a little bit to help. If everyone had that attitude, the world might be a better place. The silent supporters pitched in with donations on my way to the grocery store, while others were genuinely worried about what I was doing and asked me to never do it within view of the truck. I agreed.
(I should mention that people later changed their minds on this and were all for helping out. Like I said earlier, none of us knew quite what we were getting into, and there was definitely fear in the air. Looking back, I do not blame anyone for their opinions here. It was hard to know what would come of it).
It was thus with a rather solemn mood that we entered the country, although we were definitely excited for the first stop, the famed Victoria Falls. Needless to say, the town was a lot more clean and modern than I think any of us expected.
Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe
The highlight in Victoria Falls has to be rafting the Zambezi river’s grade 5 rapids. The river is especially fun beacuse it is deep, so even if the raft flips (which it did) you don’t need to worry too much about hitting rocks on the bottom – only the other rafters and their paddles (which is dangerous enough)! To be honest, I was more worried about hitting crocs than anything else. We passed by one right at the start of the trip, and he silently slipped into the water, instantly becoming totally undetectable. If only they blew bubbles. Naturally, I imagined him and his friends swimming alongside our raft for the rest of the excursion.
This was again on my mind when a few of us jumped out of the rafts and took up riverboarding. I was handed a foam body board, the kind you see kids playing with on the beach, and tiny flippers. With this gear we jumped into the frothy, milk-chocolate, croc-infested (ok, they avoid the rapids but still) water and proceeded to go through a series of rapids (including a class five portion) with nothing but the board and a lifejacket to keep us afloat. Yes, that’s right, boogie boarding the Zambezi! It was awesome!! Now I know what a washing machine feels like. It was absolutely ridiculous, which I think is and will be the theme of this entire trip. The waves seemed 10 times bigger when we were down at their level than when on the raft. It was like going on a slip and slide over mountains, where you hang on for dear life to this laughable little board that could be ripped out of your hands at any second, sending you under water for an unknown amount of time only to pop out like a cork further downstream. You really had to focus on when to breathe and when to hold, and trust that you would eventually pop back up for another desperate breath. Actually, it was the most fun I’ve had in a very long time.
Other activities included a horse safari where we walked quite close to water buffalo, all the while our guide was explaining to us that they are one of the most dangerous animals to encounter in Africa (okayyyy, can we move right along then?), bungee jumping off the bridge between Zimbabwe and Zambia, a three hour “sunset” (read: booze) cruise, and a very hippie-esque, touristy drum circle dinner night. We had a great, adrenaline-filled time… but one couldn’t help but think that none of this was the true Zimbabwe. It was the theme park part. Needless to say, while I had a lot of fun, I was glad to get out of the bubble and move to the real interior. In addition, I was finally starting to feel closer to everyone on the truck. They were letting me in, stubborn food ideas and all. ;)
Andrew and Mike checking out Vic Falls
Bungee Jumping over the Zambezi (photo taken by Sam)
Horse Safari, with water buffalo watching us (Photo by Andrew)
The next stop was Matopos, a national park in Zimbabwe, where we did some exploratory climbing. I assisted David in creating a new mixed route called ‘Fart with Confidence.’ I’ll let you use your imagination on how we came up with the name. This was my first experience with new-routing. David-from-Cornwall drilled in the bolts (with a top-rope) and did the first lead ascent. I somehow did the second lead. Now our names will go down in flaming glory for ever as creating the very best climb at Matopos. ;)
David on the first ascent of Fart with Confidence (18, Ewbank Rating)
David (a.k.a. "Jesus") and our new route
The park was interesting in that you could tell that it was at one time a very luxurious place to stay, and probably an oft-visited national treasure. It is in a beautiful setting with rolling hills and lush vegetation. Today, however, the tourist facilities have the feel of a ghost town – or better said ‘ghost resort.’ There is a dark stagnant puddle in what used to be a decent-sized pool, empty halls with broken windows, deserted cabins, and only infrequent electricity. We pitched our tents among the decrepit cabins and used the good-sized fire pit to cook up our usual meal in Zimbabwe, a bland-tasting bean-and-lentil-based stew. Hey, at least we are eating, I’m not complaining! We also met a group who had come from Harare to meet and discuss free speech. A secret conference, of course.
Matopos, Zimbabwe
Squeezing up a crack in Matopos
Huts in Matopos
