False promises and final goodbyes in Zambia

Posted by Darren Putter on 18 January 2011

On recent travels to Zambia, we had run late and didn’t want to drive in the dark. We decided that a rural village would be the perfect place to experience the real Africa and make new friends. We weren’t prepared for what was about to happen.

We where the stars for a night, the village leader designated an area where we could park our vehicles and the rest of the village got together busily preparing our camp site. As night fell we became surrounded by villagers almost as if at a play of sorts, we didn’t have to try to hard to entertain as most of what we travelled with was unlike anything these poor village folk had ever seen. So dressed in our western regalia head torches and all we busily got to preparing dinner. We soon realised just how much we had, it was difficult to eat with all the hungry faces watching us.

We sat for a while staring at each other wondering what was going on in their minds. But the realisation is that our needs are so different, that we couldn’t even begin to fathom the construct of their imaginations. So we played simple games for an hour or two, smiling and gesturing in the best body language we could come up with. They stayed awake all night, watching us, hoping that we would stay.

In the morning we packed up our wares and hit the road, but before we did that we asked where we could get rid of our rubbish and very quickly our rubbish bags disappeared, litteraly in front of our eyes. Like a flock of vultures at a kill, as every bit of our rubbish was torn apart, and inspected, empty food tins where licked clean by hungry children.

And then the questions started! Can you help? Can you give me a job? Will you come back? I want to be like you? Where do you live? Can I visit you? I will come to your house in South Africa?

I have learned that when travelling in Africa it is best not to promise that which you can not fulfil. I once met a man in a village that was promised a pair of trousers, and year after year when I visited the village he would ask me to send word to South Africa that he had not yet received his trousers. It is easy for us to pick up and move on to our next destination with luxury 4×4 vehicles stocked with food and drink, but the promises are not easily forgotten. Many travellers never return to the same place twice, in Africa the promises are often false and the goodbyes final.

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