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Published: January 11th 2007
Victoria Falls
Full day rafting is 125$/person in Zambia and 80$/person in Zimbabwe. We heard people getting it for 90$ in Zambia and 60$ in Zimbabwe after some bargaining.I don't know how Aili managed to get us aboard a raft for 45$/person on the Zamba side. It's a mystery.One by one the big overland truck companies arrived.
To the chorus of the Soft-Rock band Toto’s “Africa” the trucks would park, open their doors and - like if someone had opened a tap - emptying its content of party-longing-tourists in yet another place to spend their greenbacks. Some pitch their tents - others head straight to the bar.
The Victoria Falls. A guaranteed stopover on every tour along the East- to South-African tourist trail. People come for the adrenaline sports, Vic Falls themselves and of course for the overlander-mandatory booze-cruise.
The misfits you find in every overlander tourist group - that choose to save their sanity from the booze-cruise - are considered prude and stiff we learn, as the dribbling gossip returns with the evening cruise’s score:
Two concussions, a sprain ankle and a fight.
The next morning it’s off and away for one of the big overland trucks, an oozing mass of hangover tourists pour back into the truck, once more to the sound of Toto’s “Africa”:
It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you
There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do
I bless the rains down in Africa
Gonna take some time to do the things we never had
Creating space for yet another overland truck to arrive.
This is what most people see of Zimbabwe - the
Victoria Falls Town - a
Mugabe
Keep your eyes open for: "MISMANAGEMENT for dummies", "CORRUPTION- the seven step method" or "HOW I RUINED A NATION- the authobiography". All three written by R. Mugabe. In a bookstore near you soon. tourist trap par excellance.
With tricky moneychangers, free-spending tourists, beggars, thieves and expensive resorts, the town teems with envy, fear, hatred, aversion and ignorance.
It’s sad that tourists never venture further into Zimbabwe than this. Since the country is so much more than the bad energy at Victoria Falls Town.
For me travelling the rest of the country has been one of the most movable and unforgettable experience in my life.
A Simplified Political Summary:
Before 2000 Zimbabwe saw a lot of tourists, but as the president - the infamous
Robert Mugabe - carried out the radical land redistribution program - that quickly changed.
Indeed, a reform was needed.
The white Zimbabweans constituted but 1%!o(MISSING)f the population, still they owned 70%!o(MISSING)f all arable land.
The problem was the disastrous way in which it was carried out.
By forcibly expropriating thousands of white-owned farms, replacing their owners with political cronies and war veterans. None of which had the least knowledge nor will to run a large farm, and instead sold the equipment for quick cash.
Obviously this led to the destruction of the whole agricultural base. As the
A torn nation.
In an attempt to gain votes for the coming election, please the civil-war veterans (they'd had their fund looted by high governmental officials), revenge his earlier imprisonment andto flex his political muscles - he conducted the disastrous landreform. economy got worse, the government just printed more money - accordingly acquiring the highest inflation in the world.
Since most of the white Zimbabwean farmers didn’t want to give away the land that (most often) had been in their family’s possession for generations, there was an apparent conflict.
As the subsequent killing of white farmers started - all the tourists left the country.
At the ripe age of 82 and with 26 years of mismanagement of the nation as its head of state - Mugabe shows no intention of stepping down in spite of his massive unpopularity among the population.
His aim is clearly to bring Zimbabwe down with him into his grave - and he’s right on track to achieve that.
Tongue Twisting Tonga
After the
Zambezi River plummets over the Victoria Falls and constitute playground for water sport enthusiasts in the raging
Batoko Gorge, it continues into the artificial lake
Kariba. Before 1960 there was no lake and the
Tonga people lived peacefully along the Zambezi river shores. But as a huge dam was built, they were all displaced. They tried their best to work against the construction by summoning the
Tonga
Hi!-Mapoone______________________________ How are you?-Mode Bueeni?________________ Cool-Dirigabwooud________________________ Thank you.-Tualoomba Looko_________________ I'm from Hisingen-Diswagou Hisingen___________ I'm confused-Senfui deepai________________ Goodbye-Minkashie Bouthou________________ river god
Nyaminyami (think
Nessie of Loch Ness) and the construction was mysteriously delayed several times by dramatic flooding and unexpectedly wild storms.
The life of 86 project workers were lost and it’s believed that the bride of Nyaminyami is captured beneath the 128 metres high dam wall, causing the river god (now a lake god) eternal grief.
The Tonga people were resettled at what is now the south-eastern lake shore in the small town of
Binga.
Today the Nyaminyami is a tourist gimmick - something that sells water sport activities - and I felt that I wanted to know more about the legend and the discontented Tonga people - than the scatterbrained bartender at our guesthouse could tell me.
Because of the current fuel crisis, getting to Binga was easier said than done.
After long waits and three different vehicles we’d only made it to
Kamativi - a small discontinued mining town.
A Tonga girl we’d met on the bus invited us for cordial and cookies and offered us a place to stay for the night.
The town was forsaken.
A small butchery-cum-grocery shop-cum-bar was the centre of happening and
Tonga women
By tradition the Tonga women had their four upper front teeths knocked out to beautify themselves. This was done when the girls left childhood and were ready to get married (around age 13) If the teeths were not removed no Tonga man would marry them. This tradition was ended in the late 60:ies and the only women today without front teeths are 60 year or more old women. This woman had a less traditional "50-Cent Get rich or die trying" T-shirt. the place where the few townspeople - that had not yet abandoned the ghost town - seeked out their stupor.
The barman - a jolly man with a wry face did his best to keep alive the only thing that was left - the townspeople’s waning hope of change.
The next morning the girl faithfully kept us company - as we waited eight hours for the first transport to arrive - she gave us detailed explanations of the Tonga traditions and enough Tonga phrases to keep the elders amused at our pronunciation.
The surrounding landscape was calling out for mercy from the baking sun. Every single flower, plant, tree or bush had thorns and gave a harsh, inhospitable feeling.
Small clusters of Tonga dwellings sparsely dotted the arid, rolling hills. The mud houses were beautified by hand painted images, every family having their own traditional symbols and elaborate patterns smeared in earthy colours on the mud walls.
Most appreciated signs of life in an otherwise monotonous sea of thorns.
As we arrived in Binga we had a slight change to our plans since the ferry, crossing Lake Kariba, (a three day journey from
A morning Calabash
By tradition only the women smoke the waterpipes. In the Tonga markets the bubbleing sound is heard among the chattering women. It's common to smoke Marijuana for the women, but this mother smoked wet tobacco leaves. I tried and cought my lungs out. Siawonga. Binga to
Kariba Town) had been terminated. So after a few days associating with the people at the neighbouring croc-farm and the mothers attending a
U.K. Save the Children workshop, we decided to try our luck by hitching out of the remote town.
The last evening we spent down at the lake shore watching the hippos play in the sunset. Then before the sun had woken up we took off.
Five different means of transport later we arrived in the small town of
Siabuwa - which was little more than an intersection and some friendly inhabitants.
As we arrived and asked for somewhere to rest we were told to rest with “the others.”
“The others” turned out to be a bus load of people from far away towns that had been stranded in Siabuwa.
Their bus driver had refused to take them further to the rural areas in fear of heavy rains - that never happened (the dirt roads then turn into impassable mud baths).
Now all of them sat hopefully waiting for the next bus expecting the bus to fit them all in.
A friendly
Shona woman cooked us some food and as we ate in the
Tonga of tomorrow
A young Tonga woman with her son. In the background on her hut one can see the traditional handpainted patterns every Tonga beautifies their huts with. Siabuwa. light of the many bonfires, she explained how she had recently lost her oldest son - at the age of 25 - to a mysterious disease.
Later that night the bus arrived.
As I expected it was already full as it arrived, but a lucky few, with little luggage, managed to squeeze themselves into the already jam-packed bus and disappear into the night.
The remaining people then had to patiently wait another three days for the bus to go and come back again.
The next morning we managed to find a lift all the way to the capital
Harare.
The guy next to me in the car sang along to Celine Dion greatest hits tape with the same strong feeling the first time as the 7th time.
-
I love Celine Dion. He emotionally explained just in case we wouldn’t have noticed.
The driver stayed quiet during the whole journey. As we stopped in
Gokwe for lunch and the co-driver told us the quite driver behind the wheel had lost his 23 year old daughter yesterday, to some unknown disease. That was the reason why the fellowship was going to Harare now.
One by one the passengers were
Morning
A young Tonga girl outside her mudhouse. Siabuwa dropped off at different townships. Outside the driver’s house, a group of mourning relatives stood already waiting for him. Their moods were calm and serious.
Silent and contemplative.
As the co-driver then took us into town he explained - in the tone of mixed disgust and acceptance - that the fastest growing business in the last years had been a private undertaker company.
Harare
With the commercial centre full of modern high-rises scratching the sky, the city gave no impression of being in an economical crisis. If this was Harare in bad times I can’t imagine how impressive things must have been when things were booming.
It’s neat and well organised at the same time as there’s a vital Zimbabwean pulse - Harare has definitely got soul.
As symbols of convenience and excess the malls stood well stocked and crowded, evenly spread out by the city planners - on a short car journey from the city centre.
To see how much people were consuming stood in stark contrast with how I’d expected people would act in economical hardship.
But the world highest inflation makes sure no one saves any money - unless you can get forex.
Harare
The city is a beauty, this is the view from the roof-top pool at the five star hotel Meikles. One of the 14 leading five star hotels on the whole continent. Everything was extremely luxurious and we spent a couple of hours chilliong out amongst the hotshots. Harare. This makes foreign tourists carrying only forex, very appreciated.
See, the government (read Mugabe) has decided (read forced) to lock the exchange rate of the Zim Dollar to all foreign currencies. Of course this is impossible by a single deranged dictator to decide since the value of every currency is subject to speculations, but that isn’t good enough for the stubborn Mr Mugabe since he estimates the value of the plummeting Zim Dollar as high as himself.
This has created a “parallel rate” ten times higher than the government’s official one. This makes the whole money changing procedure feel like theatre.
If one should change at the official rate at the bank, Zimbabwe would (with little comparison) be the worlds most expensive country, since everything imported is done so by the parallel rate (that the rest of the world outside Mugabe’s bubble uses):
- Budweiser 33cl:
22US$
- Internet access:
8US$/hour
- Cheddar cheese:
180US$/kilo
- Breakfast buffet at Holiday Inn:
120US$
In contrast, if one changes on the parallel rate (which everyone does and everyone knows that everyone does) Zimbabwe actually becomes a very cheap country to travel in:
- 20 small mangos:
0.25US$
- Horse riding:
1.75US$/hour
Mr Cream
Mr Cream was a man of a thousand stories, he even let us touch the remaining of a bullet still stuck in his right cheek after being shot in the face at the Mozambique border. He's originally from Ireland but had staid in the country for 26 years, working in the police-force specialized in Whitchcraft-cases. Since the black officers didn't dare to work with the cases and the witchcraft for some reason didn't work on white skin.. He took us around town showing us the diamond-salesmen that were hiding among tailors in a long hallway, inside a signless building on a backstreet with no name... - Movie at the cinema:
0.5US$
- 5 Kilo(very dirty!) laundry:
1US$
- International phone call:
0.05US$/min
But one needs to be careful while changing since the ever present paranoia for government secret agents is justified. Also it is important not to change too much at the same time, since the next day the rates will most probably have changed dramatically over night.
As always the ones who suffer the most is the population.
There’s no middle class anymore since their salaries have dwindled to nothing thanks to the inflation, there is only a huge poor mass of people and then a small ruling elite of extremely rich folks.
On the contrary they have actually benefited enormously from the economical crises, and the income equality gap is now - more than ever - incomprehensively huge.
There were so many things to do in the city, and so many interesting people to meet that it was a miracle that we eventually left after spending 8 nights only.
It took us two days of (subconsciously planned) ineffectiveness before we even managed to book train tickets to
Mutare.
The train - once the pride of the nation
Thorns
So beutiful yet so painful to touch. Kamativi. - had received little maintenance and was now dilapidated. Thieves armed with screwdrivers had deprived it its interior and the light bulb in our two-bed compartment hadn’t shed any light in a long time.
It has been a busy day.
As customary on my Birthday the stores had switched from their normal shopping friendly muzak to jolly Christmas jingles and they were all marketing Christmas as if it were their own invention.
We had taken advantage of the confusing exchange rates - acting affluent - and had full body massages at a five start hotel.
We went on a walking safari spotting giraffes and visited the art museum. All along dealing with the after effects of a big night out.
As the mechanical purring of the train started and got moving it was already late and I lay tired in my berth.
The ticket collector came by and told me how old I was by showing me his wrist watch.
I was 26 years and one time zone old. It was time for my annual fifteen minutes of life crisis. After which I slept deeply.
Revisiting my carefree childhood, the bewildering youth, trying to take
in the ever-changing adventure of the present and achieving my hopeful expectation of the future.
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Marcoelitaliano
Marco Daprile
Wow!
Great, great pictures Bobbie! are you a professional photographer by any chance? if not, you should seriously consider the idea. I agree 100% with you about the organized overland tours mostly loaded with people which only interest in the visited places is to discover new brands of beer. That happens in Africa and everywhere else in the world, unfortunately. Marco PS: Were you succesful in convincing the old brit at Vic falls to try his "luck" with alternative suicidal means? Which one did he finally chose? :-)