Bush Mechanics

Vaughn, Dustin, Luke, and I spent the weekend at Mulungushi Lake at Dustin and Vaughn’s lake-house.  The weather was perfect.  We went hiking, rock climbing, canoeing, slalom-skiing, cliff jumping (into the lake), and so much more.  My personal favorite activity was swimming in a natural pool at the base of a waterfall (Vaughn and I decided it was like a taste of Paradise).
But as perfect as everything was at Mulungushi, the weekend was not without its problems.  Vaughn, Dustin, and I had decided to ride motorcycles out to the lake.  Luke rode in the car with two other friends of ours, Tommy and Marissa.  Shortly after we started our 3 hour ride down the dirt road, Dustin’s bike began to have problems.  A bolt had fallen off his bike and his side panel was ready to fall off.  Vaughn came up with a quick fix by using a self locking pin (normally used for connecting the motorcycle ambulance to the bike) to substitute for the missing bolt.  So after a short delay, we were back on the dusty trail.

Vaughn's soft wire McGyver battery rigging

But an hour later, I came across my second most hated motorbike nemesis... A deep ditch.  (My most hated is pigs.)  I fought the ditch, but gravity and gravel gave it the upper hand, and I fell.  I was fine, but the bike suffered some cosmetic damage.  Nevertheless, I was up and riding again after several minutes.  We made it about 30 minutes further before Vaughn had his first problem.  His battery terminal broke off.  It apparently couldn’t hold on any longer after all the bumps he had taken it over.  I stopped to help him, but I wasn’t much help.  Neither of us had any tools.  Dustin had a toolkit, but he was somewhere up ahead of us. So we used some tape off my bike to try to reconnect the battery cable. Then we stuffed rocks and our T-shirts into the battery compartment to help create pressure on the connection.  It didn’t work too well.  So I left to go get Dustin and his tools and return.  I found Dustin.  He was also having battery problems now.  Somehow his connection had been shorted, and he could not diagnose the problem.  But at least he managed to jump start his bike.  On our way back to help Vaughn, we found him with his bike running... He had gotten it to work.  He had pulled a McGyver and used his key ring to hold the battery cable to the terminal.  All the bikes were running again!  Since we were just under 25 miles from Mulungushi and the most difficult terrain was behind us, I jumped in the car and let Luke hop on my motorcycle.  He had been practicing his motorbike skills and was ready to put them to the test.  Unfortunately, about 10 minutes into the test, he encountered what has become his motorbike nemesis... Sand.  He lost control and involuntarily took a detour off the side of the road and into the bush.  This detour was cut short when the front wheel of the bike was greeted by a hole in the ground.  The bike tumbled several feet.  Luke tumbled several more. (He was launched over the handlebars.)  Luke laid on the ground in shock.  When he realized he could still move all of his body parts, he got up and walked back to the edge of the road and laid down.  That was the condition Vaughn found him in as he rode up on his bike... Still in shock, lying on the side of the road, eyes wide open, and no sign of the bike.  He had a few bumps and bruises but he was okay.  Vaughn found the bike lying in the tall grass and waved down a truck to take the bike and Luke the rest of the way to Mulungushi.  By nightfall, all four of us and three of the bikes were in Mulungushi.

Luke's leg post-crash

The return trip from Mulungushi was met with similar problems.  Dustin was still having battery problems and had to jump start his bike every time he stopped, Luke’s crash had knocked loose the muffler of my bike, and Vaughn’s other battery terminal decided to break.  This caused our 3 hour ride home to stretch on for 5 hours.  But after multiple efforts, we managed to use soft wire (pliable metal wire) to reattach my muffler and Vaughn’s other battery terminal.  According to Vaughn, “Soft wire is the duct tape of Africa.” But eventually, we all made it home safely.  And the bikes were still running, even if they were only being held together by bush mechanics.

My muffler rigging

On the Road Again

Me and Dale Earnhardt... I mean Luke

Luke and I just returned from an exciting 5 day trip.  Last Wednesday, we took a motorcycle into Zambia’s Southern Province to visit a few villages and rural health clinics where they had zambulances.  I had learned a lot from my last motorcycle trip in Eastern Province (the one that ended with my partner, Joe Stangl, bowing out early in exhaustion and me going home injured from a crash).  This trip was like a 5 star trip compared to the last one.  When Joe and I went to Eastern Province we gave ourselves 10 day to ride almost 1500 km (932 miles) and visit over 20 different sites.  This time, Luke and I gave ourselves over 2 days to travel 600 km (373 miles) and visit 2 or 3 sites.  By Thursday night, we had already accomplished what we had set out to do.  We had heard amazing stories of how the bicycle ambulance was helping people, and Luke had gotten a real taste of village life.  

Since we were only a 2 hour bus ride from Livingstone, Luke and I decided to be tourists for the weekend.  We found a place to store the motorcycle, took the bus to Livingstone, and stayed the night there.  Our goal (or at least mine) was to make the most of the next two days.  Here is what we did:

Day 1:

Friday morning, I persuaded a guy to give us a ride to the border of Botswana (about an hour drive from Livingstone).  From there, Luke and I took a ferry over the river into Botswana and caught a ride to Chobe Safari Lodge.  Chobe is said to be a great place to go on safari.  So Luke and I set up a tent at the lodge and went on a safari that evening.  We saw all kinds of animals, including a pride of lions that were feasting on a water buffalo.   When we came back, we made friends with a local guy who gave us a ride into town to get dinner and then took us back to the lodge.  That night, Luke and I fell asleep to the sound of hippos outside our camp. 

Simba crossed in front of our vehicle

Day 2:

We woke up Saturday morning and caught a ride back to Livingstone.  We went to Victoria Falls for the day.  I went bungee jumping, and Luke bought a wooden hippo (Luke already did the bungee jump last time he was at Vic Falls).  Again, we found a local guy to help us out with dinner.  (He barbecued some meat for us.)  That night, Luke and I went to a local Zambian concert and watched Petersen (the father of Zambian hip-hop) perform live.  I took some time to practice my Zambian dance moves. 

Sunday morning we took the bus back to our motorcycle and the motorcycle back to Lusaka.  We arrived tired, but we arrived happy and uninjured.  It was a successful motorcycle trip.  We had made some memories and met all sorts of great people.  

It was also a great opportunity for me to get to know Luke better.  I learned that he isn’t the best at sitting on the back of a motorcycle.  He almost fell off twice: the first time because he fell asleep and the second time because he was giving an exuberant wave to some children we were passing on the side of the road.  I also discovered that as much as I love the cultural activity of bartering, Luke hates it.  I love Africa because I can negotiate the price of almost anything (and so I do).  But on this trip, when I was negotiating the price of something, I could just feel how uncomfortable it was making Luke.  In fact, one time I was in the middle of talking a guy down on his price, and Luke couldn’t take it anymore so he just pulled out some money and paid him above what he was asking.  Luke felt relieved.  I felt sabotaged.  But despite our differences, I thoroughly enjoyed Luke’s company and the opportunity to put him in several uncomfortable situations over the weekend.  He is a lot of fun, and he is a good man for putting up with me.

Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner!

Vaughn recently purchased a compound bow.  He hopes to use this bow to take down some African game such as a warthog or impala.  But first he wants to master his shooting technique.  So last week, Vaughn, Luke, and I set up a target in the field by our house and took turns shooting arrows at it.  After 2 days of target practice, we were ready to kick things up a notch.  It was time to go on our first hunt... Our prey: chicken.  We have several dozen chickens that run around the farm just waiting to be eaten.  So we decided chicken should be on the dinner menu.  The hunt was on.  We found the chickens shuffling through some trees scratching for insects to eat.  I was privileged to be selected to take the first shot.  I determined which chicken looked the most delicious and took aim.  I fired!  Feathers flew and so did the chickens.  Our target practice had paid off.  I had hit the chicken.  Unfortunately, our tracking skills were quite lacking.  As the chickens fled into the trees, we lost track of which one I had hit.  I followed a trail of blood from where I shot the chicken to about 20 yards away but from there I lost the trail.  To make things worse, we also could not find the arrow.  (Who knows?  Perhaps if we would have found the chicken we would have found the arrow.)

Luke and Vaughn plucking the chicken

We decided to try again.  This time Vaughn would shoot and we would watch things more closely.  The chickens were on the run at this point, but after two narrow misses Vaughn managed to shoot one through the leg.  After we removed the arrow, it took off running again.  Now it was Luke’s turn.  He was using the sight to aim but found that he was off target for his first two shots.  So he said, “I am just going to shoot it like I normally would.”  At which point, Luke pulled back the bow and immediately fired at the chicken (without using the sight) and shot it straight through.  And with that, the hunt was over, and Luke earned his keep.  Later that evening, we enjoyed a delicious chicken dinner.

Strike Two?

Vaughn has returned to Zambia from 4 weeks of globe trotting, and he brought back with him another housemate, Luke Heneghan.  Luke is going to be a Junior at Notre Dame in the fall and wanted to come out to Zambikes to do an internship for the summer.

But before Luke even had time to acclimate, he and I found ourselves thrust into an unintentional international adventure...
We were just on our way to the mall to pick up a few things, but somehow we ended up in a police station being accused of trying to assassinate the president of Zambia.
How could we possibly find ourselves in that scenario you might ask?  Well, it is quite simple really.  Vaughn, Luke, and I had just finished grabbing a bite to eat for lunch.  Vaughn was on his way back to the Zambikes office and was going to drop Luke and I off at the mall.  When we came to the intersection by the mall the police had stopped all other lanes of traffic and a police officer was in the middle of the road directing us to keep driving.  Since we couldn't get over to the mall parking lot, Vaughn decided just to drop us off at the intersection.  Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal.  But we quickly realized this wasn't a typical situation.  As Luke and I jumped out of the car we were immediately being yelled at by several police officers.  Vaughn sped off quickly and pretended not to notice all the police shouting at him and trying to wave him down.  Almost immediately after Vaughn’s hurried departure, a motorcade passed through the intersection... The president’s motorcade.

Luke and I were left standing on the corner of the intersection with police shouting orders at us.  We were escorted to the nearby police station and told that we should call our lawyers.  They told us that we were in serious trouble and were going to be detained and deported.  That was when they accused us of trying to assassinate the president.  When Luke protested, I motioned to him to let me do most of the talking.  After all, this was not the first time I had been threatened to be thrown in jail or deported.  I had learned from my last encounter with Zambian officials that the best thing to do is continue to apologize and let them talk.  It is not a matter of reasoning with them.  So, I put these principles into practice.  I told the police that Luke and I had just arrived in Zambia and we did not realize our mistake. We were extremely sorry and it was our own fault.  The police demanded that we tell them who was the man who dropped us off (because they could impound his car and bring a legitimate charge against him).  I explained that he had given us a ride, but we did not know him.  They did not believe us at first, but we stuck with our story.  After an hour or so of being detained at the police station, the police were still trying to decide what to do.  A man from the president’s security team had arrived and questioned us as well.  He was much more reasonable than the other police officers (who responded to everything we said with, “If I don’t put you in jail I will lose my job and then who will feed my children.  Will you?”).  He explained that we committed a serious offense and it requires that we defend our case in court.  It could not be covered by paying a fine.  But after being convinced that it was an innocent mistake, he tried to come up with another solution- such as a traffic offense to charge us with or something that we could at least pay and be on our way.  So I told them we had 100,000 Kwacha ($20) on us, but we would need to keep some money for a bus fare back home.  Finally, he said, “Keep your money,” and he sternly warned us to never catch a ride with a stranger and never let our transport stop illegally to let us out.  And with that, Luke and I were pardoned and released.  As we walked out of the police station toward the mall, I turned to Luke and said, “Well... Welcome to Zambia.”

5 Things You Probably Never Knew About Zambia

Here are some facts about Zambia that have now become common place to me, but I thought you all might find interesting:

Stone Crushers

1.  It is impossible to go from our farm to town without seeing multiple people either crushing stones or carrying charcoal.  They are two of the worst jobs in Zambia.  The charcoal carriers (over)load their bikes with huge bags of charcoal and haul them into town.  Every pedal is a struggle and the slightest incline requires that they dismount their bikes and push.  They do this from sunrise to sunset.  Then there are the stone crushers.  Some of them (mostly men) gather huge stones from the quarries and lug them to the side of the road.  From there, others (mostly women) hammer the large stones until they have been reduced to small gravel size pieces.  These pieces are put in bags and sold to anyone who needs gravel.  Just like the charcoal carriers, these individuals work from sun up to sun down.  And they get paid pennies to do this work.

2.  There are hair salons on almost every corner in the compounds/slums (which probably helps explain why a Zambian woman may wear 5 different hair pieces throughout the week).

Mama Andrew's Hair Salon

3.  There are blue minibuses that travel throughout Lusaka and on which you can catch a ride to and from almost anywhere.  These buses are always overstuffed with people (and the occasional chicken).  And I am not sure but I think it is a rule that if you own a minibus you must put some phrase across the back windshield that either supports your favorite football (soccer) club or is a variation of the saying: “If God says yes, no one can say no.”  I have also noticed that most traffic laws do not apply to drivers in Lusaka, but even fewer apply to minibus drivers.

Minibus

4.  Most police officers do not have cars (but they do have automatic weapons).  If they catch you speeding, they wave for you to pull over.  If you do not pull over, they will wave down the next car and make that person chase you down until you pull over (for real).  Once they have you pulled over, they inform you of what you did wrong and the accompanying fine. (If you are white, sometimes they just pull you over and make up a reason to fine you.)  The fine may start out at something like 500,000 Kwacha, but if you give them 50,000 Kwacha (about $10) and say, “This is all I have on me,” they often let you go.

5.  The “Natty Light” of Zambia is called Shake-Shake and can be found within walking (or stumbling) distance from most villages around Lusaka.  It is made from fermented corn and sold in large milk cartons.  You might be thinking that Shake-Shake sounds gross, but it is even grosser than you are thinking.  Trust me.

Well, now you know a little bit more about Zambia and if you ever come to visit you will be that much more prepared.

PSA

To whom it may concern:

My face has been booked. 

I have long resisted having a facebook account, not because I am anti-facebook, but because I am anti “checking facebook.”  I had a facebook for a semester in college and it went well until I logged on after a whole summer of no use and found that I had been invited to many events that I never knew about, had several dozen messages that needed reply, and had been bit by hundreds of zombies and vampires.  Naturally, I deactivated my account.  So if people wanted to talk to me or invite me to something or find out “about me,” they would have to communicate with me outside the realm of facebook.  This is still my preference.  Nonetheless, my account has now been reactivated for the primary purpose of helping maintain international relations (primarily for when I return to the states).

End PSA