Crossing many a border.

I apologize that my post is once again incredibly delayed. I do have a lot to post about, but with limited access to a South African style outlet it has been difficult. I am currently in the town of Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe.

Today is 5 August. That means yesterday was 4 August, the day of many borders. But in order to understand that, you must understand what happened on 3 August. I will begin with that. We woke up in Botswana. Somewhere in Northern Botswana, Roland illegally passed a slow moving truck, and was pulled over by the police. We met them in the police station where they said the minimum fine was 1,000 Pula, or about 120 United States Dollars. After negotiating with them for about an hour, Roland talked them down to 400 Pula. It’s so nice that Botswana cops aren’t corrupt. If it was Mozambique they would have you open your wallet and fork over whatever you had.

We  drove through until we made it to the ferry to Zambia. The line of trucks at the ferry was kilometers long, and we were told that many truck drivers need to wait for up to three weeks to get across. Furthermore, the ferry that is based in Botswana was currently out of order, so only the Zambia-based ferry was running. The line of trucks was twice as long as usual. Apparently prostitutes complain when there is a smaller line of trucks, so I guess someone was happy.

Once we made it to the border, Roland figured that we would have enough time to meet up with some friends of his for lunch. They operate a hostel in the northern tip of Botswana. From their beautiful property, Namibia, Zambia, Zimbabwe, and, of course, Botswana can be seen. They were incredibly friendly, and the lunch they made for us was wonderful.

We went back to the ferry. After going through Botswana exit customs, Roland decided to cross the border on an earlier ferry than the rest of us so he could begin Zambia’s annoying formalities for allowing a car into the country. Bob, Nosipho, and I waited in line with the car. That’s when it happened. The ferry made one last trip to the Botswana side, and then spent the night in Zambia. Roland was in Zambia with no way of getting back. Since he had all of the papers for the car, we could not meet him via Zimbabwe or Namibia. Furthermore, Nosipho is on a tight schedule as she is attempting to get instruments to begin a music programme in Swaziland. She needed to meet someone in Zimbabwe in the morning, meaning that she could not afford to spend another night in Botswana. Basically, we were stuck with a car that could not cross borders, and somebody who needed to cross a border. Not to mention Roland, who was stranded in Zambia for the night. Bob and I dropped Nosipho off at the Zimbabwe border and spent the night in Botswana.

Botswana needs to seriously consider closing their customs office before the ferry. Our group of four spent the night of 3 August in three different countries.

We crossed into Zambia on the first ferry that morning (6 AM), and Roland was waiting for us on the other side.  He had gotten most of the formalities figured out, and was surrounded by a circle of scammers telling him that he needed even more. Once I got my visa and Roland got third party insurance and extra reflectors for the car, we were off. The drive through Zambia was a beautiful one, with Elephants and Zebras visible from the car window. We arrived at the hostel in Zambia, and all I wanted to do was take a nap.

Nosipho came into Zambia at around 1:30. She arrived at the hostel, and said it would be much better for her if we could stay on the Zimbabwe side instead. The hostel in Zambia kindly gave me a full refund.

So that’s how I ended up in Zimbabwe. It is weird to use the United States dollar here. Last night a traditional Zimbabwean band came to the hostel and sang. Being the lover of African music that I am, I bought their CD. They were very happy, and let me take a photo with them.

Today I went white water rafting on the Zambezi, beginning right near the base of Victoria Falls. My only experience with white water rafting is from a Boy Scout trip in upstate Pennsylvania or something, so I didn’t expect much. It was only once I was in the raft when I learned that this course houses the number one toughest white water in the world. Yikes. The boat capsized twice, and both times I found myself under the boat and pulled down the rapids. Don’t get me wrong, it was a wonderful experience. I just swallowed about half of the Zambezi.

Zimbabwe is a nice country. Western news makes it seem like the most backwards country on earth with no development at all, but it doesn’t seem any worse here than Zambia or other countries in the area. People here are also much more hyped up about the elections than you would see in any dictatorship as bad as the news makes Zimbabwe look. Election posters are everywhere, meaning at least some people believe their vote actually counts.

I don’t know when I will leave Zimbabwe; probably Thursday or Friday. Thanks for reading, and sorry for the late post.