A simple safari vehicle swap....

I had arrived mid-morning for the last stint of the season at our Fig Tree bush camp, hosting 3 elderly Roman Catholic sisters, missionaries from the USA, who were staying for 2 nights in our tree tents. One of the ladies walks with a stick so we knew it was going to be a challenging couple of days… getting in and out of a game viewer is tricky enough for the fully-mobile, let alone climbing up and down treehouse steps 3 or 4 times a day.

Anyway, they set off on their first sunset game drive around 430pm and shortly before sunset we got a radio call from David, their guide, saying they were at the hippo pool and the vehicle was pumping smoke from under the bonnet, could I go with the second vehicle to swap cars. No problem I said, I wasn't entirely sure which pool he meant as there are several in the area and all are imaginatively referred to as hippo pools, so I set off for the closest and found no-one. I was now on the wrong side of the water, so when I found them at the next pool, I had to take a short journey around the pool to reach them. Their vehicle was no longer smoking, but we switched anyway in case it was something serious. I set off back for camp, leaving them to enjoy their sundowners. I hadn't got more than a mile when I found myself half way up the far side of Savannah crossing with what felt like a snapped accelerator cable. The last place I wanted to be stuck was back down in the bottom of the gully, so, with no handbrake, I stuck it in gear and switched off the engine. The vehicle held half way up the steep side, the roof was almost level with the top of the gully, but sadly not high enough to be seen by any passing vehicle.

The replacement vehicle I had swapped with David had no radio in it, so there was precious little I could do except run back across the gully and see if I could catch his attention across the grassland - so I jumped from the vehicle, quickly flashed my torch up and down the river bed for Leopards, and ran… in my haste to leave camp, I had only brought my flip flops, which broke on the rocks after the first two steps, leaving me bare foot clambering up the far side of the gully - but it was all to no avail; David had already set off using a different road. Bugger.  I called the camp, and waited for David to return with the guests and receive the news that it was his turn to rescue me.

It was getting dark fast, the Tsetse's were swapping shifts with the mosquitoes and the nightjars were starting their evensong. Despite the slightly serious situation I was in, I was treated to a spectacular lightening show both in front and behind which lit up the gully and surrounding trees.  The puku started an alarm whistle in front of me and I swung the torch back and forth a couple more times, desperate not to waste the battery, but keen to see what they might be concerned about. I could only run the engine and vehicle lights if I held the foot brake down at the same time and since I was not entirely sure how long they would take to find me I didn't want to risk it unless absolutely necessary.

Not sure how much time passed, but there came the sound of a distant vehicle behind me and I turned to see lights bouncing in all directions through the trees… it could only be David heading back to camp with the guests. I thanked the gods that he'd chosen this direction to return. I turned my torch on once more so that he could see me and my stranded vehicle now blocking his way through the crossing and climbed out into the darkness to meet him on the other side.

After some fiddling around with the cable under the accelerator pedal I was off again and gingerly picked my way back to camp, stopping only to watch a genet foraging by the roadside and listen to the lions roaring in the woodland. Where else in the world could a near disaster end in pure Magic?

The Fruits of Fig Tree Camp

Campfire meets bushfire

I haven't been able to get any of the locals to tell me what this long holiday weekend is in aid of, but today and tomorrow are both public holidays here in Zambia, so of course we are fully booked and the place is buzzing. Google tells me they are heroes day and unity day back to back - but what exactly that means I'm not sure.
I've just come back from a couple of nights at our remote bush camp, Fig Tree, which was so peaceful and quiet, if a little hair-raising at night, waiting for the guests to return from their night drive, listening to the bush fires raging across the river. My training has taught me that controlled fires are necessary for a number of ecological reasons and I understand them all, but I can't help feeling for the slower moving creatures of the bush like the tortoises and chameleons that simply cannot bury themselves underground or take to the skies to get away from the fatal flames and smoke.

Zebra studying something suspicious in the grass

Whilst at Fig Tree, during the quieter daytime hours, I spent some time with one of our guides walking the camp and studying the trees and plants in the vicinity... it stills amazes me what an abundance of resources mother nature provides, even in a small camp area... everything is there to make rope, cloth, and kitchen utensils, walking sticks, boats and snuff boxes. Not to mention the wealth of medical supplies, culinary delights, industrial strength glues and even chewing gum; bush gum is not something I'm desperate to try in a hurry, but I did manage to make a fairly loud whistle using the leaf of a Horn-Pod tree and send a Puku dashing for cover in alarm - oops.

one month in...

Exactly one month ago, I stood at the baggage belt in Lusaka airport waiting for my rucksack, pondering what lay ahead… all I knew was that a girl with facial piercings would be waiting for me the other side of the gate - she would drive me 4 hours to the lodge, predominantly in the dark; No views to talk about, few animals to spot, no shared knowledge and no idea of where we were heading. I was nervous.

I'm often nervous, but my previous boss always told me that I was good at hiding it - I faced the world and whatever it threw at me with passion and purpose; it didn’t really feel like it. This was different. I was to spend 6 months in an alien country, with new colleagues, a whole different career and a long way from home.
But here I am, a whole month done and I can't quite believe it. Thankfully it feels like I've been here much longer. The people are amazing… resourceful, calm, generous and understanding. I have landed in yet another small slice of Eden.

Mukambi Safari Lodge sits on the banks of the Kafue River which borders the Kafue National Park, one of the world's biggest wildlife sanctuaries; at 22,400 square kilometres, it is the size of Wales and home to some of the greatest wetland antelopes on earth. This week I received my official guiding licence to take tourists on game drives around the park and interpret the flora and fauna we see here. I can't wait. Another nerve-wracking chapter has started… we have timid and aggressive elephants (as a result of a long history of poaching), un-graded roads which take the "African massage" to a whole new level, Tsetse flies and exceedingly long grass making visibility tricky at best. But the challenges are worth enduring because we also have the cutest Leopard cubs, almost 500 bird species and some of the rarest sightings like Pangolins and Sitatunga. It's a lesser-known pocket of paradise and once again I am awed by the sheer magnitude of mother nature's designs. Now that I truly understand what the Lion King was on about all those years ago, I am excited to share with others the real "circle of life".

Monday morning at the office

The first thing they teach you at guide school is not to run in the bush; only food runs! - so we agreed that running down the un-fenced airstrip with a vehicle slowly trailing behind, for fitness reasons, probably wasn't our wisest decision. So last night we formally started our own "bushfit" club outside the managers pool. Admittedly "club" is a bit of an exaggeration with only 2 members, but with any luck it will be 3 this evening.
Today's tasks include a management meeting to present proposed actions from recent market research, visiting Robert the onsite tailor to get my uniform altered, getting Steve in the workshop to make a couple of bush-fit "implements" and writing an article on the local Pangolin release activity. Not your average day in the bush, but our first walking safari went out this morning and unfortunately I was not able to join, despite getting up stupidly early and being all prepared to set off with a couple of Italian guests; hopefully next time will be more successful.
Hosting is a significant part of guiding and often more important than the knowledge you share... so we are kicking off a new "lunch and learn" programme here with the guiding team on Tuesday. The first session, called "Meet and Greet" is all about getting to know your international guests. Our local guides have never left Zambia, and despite being highly knowledgeable about the bush, some have never been to school and therefore have varying levels of literacy - how to make the nuances of different European cultures interesting and exciting to Africans who possibly don't know where or what Europe is, will be a challenge indeed!

Placement starts at Mukambi, in the heart of the Kafue National Park - Zambia

My current home at Mukumbi!

After 5 gruelling months of training and successfully qualifying in South Africa as a FGASA Level 1 field guide (typically driving), Back-Up Trails Guide (walking safaris), Level 2 tracker and borderline-bird-nerd, I have arrived safely at my placement lodge in Zambia where I will stay until early December learning all about lodge management and hopefully clocking hours and encounters in a guiding role. As with most African countries, there are of course some administration battles to overcome first, like VISAs, licences, insurances and public driving permits, but with any luck these things will all be sorted soon enough and I can get out into the bush putting it all into practise. The wildlife is abundant and the bush pristine which makes for some fantastic birding.
In the meantime of course I have plenty to do accompanying existing guides and learning the routes, the new plants and trees, and special antelopes that only occur here, as well as working with the management team on marketing, social media and the all important guest hosting (drinking and chatting at the bar mostly!).

First "management meeting"!

Mukambi Safaris have 3 camps within the Kafue, at varying degrees of remoteness. I have so far visited two of them and I am looking forward to visiting the third when it opens in the North next month (Busanga Plains).
They have visitors from all over the world; and in the two weeks I have been here, I have already met people from Israel, USA, The Netherlands, Germany, Ireland and of course many other Africans. My travels over the years in the course of my career have certainly been useful these last two weeks.

"Bushfit with Bruce" initiation....

It started, for me, back in March at a private reserve called Pridelands, near the town of Hoedspruit. It was the start of our Basic Birding course with Bruce so we were fresh back from off time and raring to go. The camp is fairly new and made up of canvas tents and a new wooden ablutions block – but nothing that resembled a gym… well not the kind I have seen before anyway. That soon changed when Bruce appeared in his gym shorts carrying a selection of items that looked completely alien to me… a saggy rubber ball weighing 10Kgs, a pram wheel with handles, and a fat stick tied to a weight with a length of paracord. Slightly intrigued I watched for a bit before deciding to join in. Everyone was still smiling, so I took it to mean it was not too difficult… and to be fair, at the time, it really didn’t feel too difficult at all. I swung kettle bells, mastered the stomach wheel and smugly pulled back on the lat-pull ropes for the required number of times without so much as a twinge. Was I doing it wrong? Admittedly I struggled with the push ups and jumping squats, but made it to the end and disappeared off for a shower feeling quite impressed with myself.

The day wore on, the course continued, the brain got fried as usual, and we went to bed. It was about 430am when the consequence of my actions became apparent. Desperate for a pee, I flopped my right arm out of bed and felt around the floor of the tent for my torch and discovered to my horror that I couldn’t lift it up without a burning pain screaming out from my arm…. now just a couple of muscles I could understand… but all of them!? really? I had no idea just how weak my arms had become working in an office all day for 25 years.

My home at Pridelands

I managed, aided by some pain-induced involuntary noises, to get myself up, out to the loo and back again just in time for the 5am wake-up call. The day was agony. The day after even worse. I did not join bushfit again that week – not because I didn’t want to get fit and strong, but simply because I couldn’t, and I was not alone. It took 3 days before my arms would painlessly lift my binoculars to my face – not good when you are on an intensive 7 day birding course!

It's been a while - but I'm back from training and 100% ALIVE!

“I thought you said Makuleke was hot???” I screamed over the sound of the engine and the rain hammering down on the canvas roof of the game viewer. Everyone was wrapped in hats and coats and every spare piece of clothing they could find – soaked through and shivering we bounced down the tracks towards our new home.

The Makuleke concession is 24,000 hectares of land owned by the Makuleke people inside the Kruger National Park in South Africa and is nestled between the Limpopo river in the north and the Luvuvu in the south. A land of fever tree forests, wide open pans and exceedingly tall grass, it’s at the northern tip of the park accessed via the Pafuri gate – and is a bird nerds paradise.

New camp, new species, new faces and once again I was lucky enough to have a tent to myself (if you ignore the compulsory Acacia rats, geckos and tree squirrels). The tent could better be described as a chalet, with an en-suite bathroom and gas powered hot shower; pure luxury in a beautiful setting amongst enormous Nyala trees, Mangosteens and Black Bitterberrys.

I was unpacked in about 5 minutes flat and out wandering the camp to get my bearings and realised that despite endless studying over the previous months, there were an alarming number of trees, sounds and plants I could put no name to. But that would have to wait. Our first week was advanced rifle handling (ARH) – the week I had been dreading since booking the course last summer.

I’m not a fan of guns at the best of times, but a .375 bolt action rifle that can stop a charging elephant at 10m is something I was absolutely shit scared of. Thankfully the first couple of days of the course was spent getting used to the action, the weight, the safety procedures and generally drilling the loading and unloading stages as well as learning how to put the thing into a safe walking state.  After a couple of days I had gained a little confidence, despite awkwardly trying to get to grips with a right-handed rifle as a left-handed beginner. I had also learnt that a magazine was not something you read, a sear was not some kind of fortune teller and “short-stroking” was thankfully something one should avoid at all costs.

After endless drilling my arms were weak and I knew something would have to be done if I was to carry that thing for any length of time and then have a hope of holding it up long enough to aim and accurately fire when needed. Little did I know then what “Bushfit with Bruce” would do to me.

The long journey home

After our last leisurely breakfast, we left at 11am with the couple from Essex. Zita was at the airport when we got there, waiting to say goodbye - I somehow forgot that she worked at the Air Force, which is of course based at the airport. D'Oh.
Got some gifts at Livingstone airport with the remaining Kwacha as it is completely useless once we leave the country and cannot be changed into anything elsewhere.
Boarded plane and set off staring out the window. We were sat next to an American guy who is a manufacturing engineer for McCain Foods; it seems however hard I try, I cannot escape my job. Grrrrr.
Uneventful flight and a despondent trek through Johannesburg airport to the now familiar gate A9 heading for home. Sadly we were in the standard cramped cabin seats for the way back and Tracey's headphone socket was broken, so we slapped a fabric elastaplast on it and tried to tire ourselves out with a couple of movies. I ended  up watching "Moanna" followed by "Lion" - and shed tears during both of them - such a wimp! Or maybe I can blame it on the incredible and emotional journey we have just been on.  It has at times been so unbelievable we have been lost for words and at other times so frustrating that we've blurted out too many words. But there isn't a moment I would change, or an experience I would have missed. We've reinforced friendships made last year, and started a whole bunch of new ones. We have successfully taught 30 people to boodle - 12 of which turned up at the boodle club's first independent session on Tuesday. They elected a captain and vice captain and set themselves some goals which will help them on their journey towards generating an income. I wish them every success and cannot wait to hear about their progress.
We've "sown the seed" as one taxi driver put it, and someday we "must return to see how it has grown". My bank balance fears he may be right.

A day of birding and buffalo

Up at 6am to go birding on the local sewerage ponds, followed by a short visit and breakfast picnic inside the Mosi-Oa-Tunya National Park, just outside Livingstone. We clocked up quite a few species and despite me not being able to tell the difference between a wood sandpiper and a ruff (even in the guide book!!!) we had a great morning.
The elusive Giant Kingfisher took a dive for fish right in front of our picnic area and of course my camera was still inside the truck at the time... I guess it was karma for the chance I completely cocked up earlier in the week. Just another excuse to return I guess.
We spent the afternoon walking the grounds, sleeping off lunch and packing up for the final time. We were back out on the river at 430pm and trailing a herd of Cape Buffalo as they munched their way across the river. So going to miss this place.

Finally a day of rest!

Open-billed stork

Stayed in bed til 10am reading and dozing; our first and only lie-in of the trip.
Had a lovely lunch and sat down on the jetty with our binoculars watching Elephants and Kudu on the far riverbank.
Went out on the river with 6 others and saw more Elephants, an Open-Billed stork and plenty of baboons. Think I have developed an addiction to chilli-sugared peanuts and dried mango – can’t seem to get enough of either of them.
Back for dinner… yet more gorgeous food – struggling to work out where they get hold of sprouts over here but they certainly have an incredible chef.
Had a few glasses of wine round the campfire with an English couple from Essex and went to bed, wondering how the first boodle club went today at Linda Farm. Will email Rachael tomorrow and find out.

Day trip to Botswana

630am wake up call when a flask of hot tea arrived at our room, so we showered to wake ourselves up and headed out just as it was getting light.
Michael and Caroline were waiting by the van to see us off and make sure we had everything and Caroline commented on the "love letter" we had left... both of them laughing. With any luck I will have clean socks again by the time we get back.
Crispin, our driver, took us to the Kazangulu border port on the Zambian side, passing endless queues of trucks waiting sometimes up to 14 days to cross, one at a time into neighbouring Botswana or Namibia on flatbed ferries.

He handed a piece of paper over to a waiting boatman, who would take us over the river to meet another guide on the Botswana side. All being well, Crispin would return to collect us back in Zambia at 430pm.
I will admit, the border crossing was a little daunting, not only because it was the first time we were alone (and unsure what the plan was), but also because we were carrying large expensive cameras through the throngs of hawkers at the border wanting to sell us copper bracelets and soapstone animal ornaments. Thankfully there wasn't too much hanging about and before long we were clinging on for dear life, bouncing over the waves in our tiny tin boat heading for the opposite bank.
"Six", our wildlife guide, arrived soon after we did and after a quick dip in the foot and mouth bath and some more passport stamping, we were off to Chobe. To our amazement, we had the land-cruiser all to ourselves.

After sorting out park fees and more paperwork we headed into the Chobe National Park through the Sedudu gate and almost immediately stopped for a "dazzle" of Zebra and some Impala. We had heard there was a male lion down by the riverbank, so we sped off in the right direction hoping we wouldn't be too late as he was on the move. By the time we got there, a large number of trucks were curb-crawling him through the bush as he looked for somewhere shady to pass the heat of the day. Not the ideal time to be on safari we knew, but beggars can't be choosers. He was sadly too far in for us to get a glimpse, so we moved on, Six declaring we would find our own lion, and within half an hour we had. Two in fact. It was not a great sighting for me as our driver had unfortunately broken an ethical boundary to get it, so let's just say it was memorable.
We moved on again, stopping for a comfort break and a drink in a strange, unguarded picnic area not so many yards from shagging elephants; Three bull elephants had separated a young female from her breeding herd and taken her into the bush, where they basically gang-raped her before leaving her dazed and very confused to find her way back to her mother and aunties. Fascinating to learn about but pretty eye-watering to watch, especially as the bull was twice the size of the poor female.

We moved on again passing over 50
Giraffe grazing on the tops of the Acacia trees, heading out of the park and down to a boat jetty, where we climbed on board our own private river safari boat and headed out for lunch at a place called "The Raft". It was floating on the Namibian side of the river almost touching the bank, and we were met by the staff singing us a welcome song and helping us off the boat. They had the grill going with all sorts of meat being cooked and cold white wine ready and waiting. It was bliss, but the highlight for me was yet to come. We spent the afternoon out on a river safari back in the Chobe NP.
We saw a herd of buffalo chasing an Elephant across the river and Elephants running and swimming from a lion (slightly worryingly in our direction), and a Hammerkop being mobbed by two Lapwing.
There were Elephants, Buffalo and Hippos everywhere we looked... both in and out of the water.
Sadly, but thankfully before the wind burn got too bad, it was time to leave and find our way back to the Kasane border post. We had multi-entry visas, so getting back into Zambia should have been perfectly straightforward, however the only indication of the visa type in our passports were the letters "M/E" scribbled in biro by the airport immigration staff.  Without sufficient US Dollars on us to buy more visas we fretted a little. Noticing the time, we also started to fret a little more... we were 30 minutes early and would have to suffer the hawkers again whilst we waited for Crispin to collect us.
The tin boat for the return journey was over the far bank when we got there, so a colleague kindly offered to take us back across the stretch of no-mans land to the waiting hawkers. Clutching cameras and binoculars and ready to brave it out, we stepped up to get off the boat and were asked who we were waiting for.... after our reply of "Waterberry", the shout went up, and was relayed round the port until seconds later Crispin appeared from behind a boat smiling reassuringly at us. Phew.  He even had cold beers in the cool box inside the vehicle. What a team Waterberry are. Thank you thank you thank you.
An awesome day; we saw some amazing sights, had moments of adrenaline, moments of wonder, sheer joy and happiness and, apart from the bone-shaker drive back along the dirt track to our lodge, I couldn't fault the day. Definitely money very well spent and just goes to prove, you don't need Attenborough-style big five action to enjoy the wildlife here.

Local village walk

Arrival at the first village

We left with Shadreck at 9am on the boat, heading up river through a series of rapids to get to the village, passing locals in their dugout canoes checking their fishing nets.
A guy called Gift was our guide. He lives in the first of the three villages we visited which seemed to us to also be the poorest. A collection of mud houses which need to be remade every 8/9 years on account of the termites that eat their way through the wooden uprights holding it together.

Stick walls are filled with mud and clay

The village had collective cattle and pig pens and a lady who grew (and sometimes sold) potted plants. We were discussing the cattle and the wealth they represent when Gift told us that they would only sell them if they needed to send a child to school, or they needed to pay a dowry (to buy one of the men a wife). The bride's family set the price and it may be 4 or 5 cows for the girl depending on her status and purity.  Gift then turned to Tracey and I and asked how much a bride would cost in England - when we told him they were free he immediately declared that he wanted to move to England.   Songiso wants to marry Katherine at the farm, but he cannot get together the 17,000 Kwacha needed for her dowry (about £1,700); What a way to start married life... with a man who is completely broke on account of the dowry!

Stilted food store in second village

The second village was clearly richer, having both a bar and a food store on stilts.
The third village was where the brand new school and church are located. Tracey and I were blown away by the sheer size of the school - compared to everything else we had seen in Zambia, it was a giant. Brightly painted and inviting, it is built on land purchased by Waterberry and funded by the guests and local projects, sales of craft items in the gift shop and of course overseas donations.
We were back from the village tour shortly before lunch and so spent some time on the terrace watching the monkeys and me re-boodling my camera case as I had to pick it apart to use the yarn to teach with last week.

Newly finished Tukongote Community Primary School

All our washing came back late afternoon in pristine condition, with the exception of about 8 pairs of socks. All our new and borrowed hiking socks; the one item I had completely run out of was socks, and so I wandered over to the reception desk to ask if they could check the laundry… nothing there, since we were about to head out onto the river again, we left Kelly going from room to room asking each of the guests if they had received our socks by mistake and promising she would track them down. She was very surprised as they have a pretty good system for laundry and it’s quite rare to lose a guests washing.

Definitely Tracey's shot of the day! Dust bath baby.

Today's river cruise was just a good as the last... eles, crocs, hippos, kingfishers and a race up river chasing sunset for a chance to see river otters again.

When we returned, the missing socks had become a complete mystery to the staff, as they had now checked every guest at both the lodge and the River Farmhouse down the road and still no sign.

They provide snacks on board the boat and so by the time Tracey and I had stuffed ourselves with peanuts, mini pasties and crisps, followed by a 3 course dinner, beer and wine, we could only waddle to the campfire and plonk ourselves down for a while. Stuffed and with trousers no longer able to do up, Tracey suddenly asked me if I had checked the inside pocket of the case when I emptied the laundry out? No I hadn't. So many people had been out looking for our socks and it turns out they had not even made it into the laundry basket in the first place. I felt awful. Reception was shut already and so a very apologetic note was called for, which I left wedged underneath an ornamental crocodile.  We couldn't stay up late as we were leaving for Botswana early in the morning to spend the day at the Chobe National Park.

Saturday - First day at Waterberry

Skipped breakfast this morning - figured we will be eating a ridiculous amount for the remainder of the day when we get to Waterberry, so we packed up our things, cleaned the room and donated our mosquito nets to the ladies at Sunbird along with some small gift necklaces. We said our goodbyes to the remaining few volunteers as most were off on safari in neighbouring Botswana for the weekend.

Rabeccah came to say goodbye and update us how things were progressing at the school we worked at last year. Tracey had arranged for a painter to go in and paint both the inside and outside of the whole place, and a local carpenter has been commissioned to make some new desks for some of the classrooms.  Any remaining budget will be spent purchasing new books for the children. She will go back to take some photos for Tracey when the work is all done which should be in plenty of time for the school year to start in September.

Scorpion we removed from the bathroom

Our Waterberry driver, Webster, arrived at lunchtime to collect us and we set off for hobbitland and the luxury of proper toilet roll, clean sheets and hot running water. Kelly greeted us on arrival and remembered us from last year which was fantastic. She is running the local community school project that we will visit tomorrow and deliver the final suitcase full of supplies - mainly sets of books, craft resources and glue sticks.

Coincidentally we are staying this year in the thatched chalet called "Sunbird"; after dumping an entire suitcase of washing in the laundry bag, we grabbed a glass of Chardonnay each, had some lunch and chilled out on our terrace - within minutes, a brown-hooded Kingfisher landed on the branch on front of us not more than 5 yards from where we sat - love love love this place and so pleased to be back. Webby and Matthews are still here, along with Shadreck, Bonface, Tessa, Michael and Caroline.

Webby took us out on the boat for the sunset cruise and as soon as we crossed the river and rounded the island we were treated to a huge breeding herd of elephants on the far bank followed by impala, kudu and baboons. We saw crocodiles, a fish eagle, and loads of vervet monkeys, Senegal Coucal, water dekop (thick knee), giant, pied and brown hooded kingfishers, a goliath heron, hammerkop, hippos, white-backed vulture, squacco heron, yellow-wattled lapwing, banded mongoose and Egyptian goose with chicks!!!!! the list goes on. The mighty Zambezi certainly lives up to its' name.

When we got back and switched on the wifi, we received a lovely whatsapp from Judy at the farm - Songiso had finally broken down in tears after we left - something Judy had never seen him do. They missed us already and wanted us to know how much they had all enjoyed the party.

After a gorgeous 3 course dinner, we sat alone round the campfire reflecting on the farm and the experience - relieved to be back at Waterberry, but sad also to have left Linda behind.

It's party time on the farm!!! - hardest day ever.

Linda Farm family with their donated nets and clothing

We braced ourselves for what we knew would be a hard and emotional day today, and set off for Shoprite, feeling more positive and excited about our final day and the planned afternoon party – the first hurdle loomed immediately when we discovered that Zambian rules don't allow the purchase of alcohol until 10am – so armed with fizzy pop, crisps, snacks and paper cups, we decided what will be will be - slapped on the smiles and jumped back in the taxi. The few beers we planned to celebrate with would have to come from elsewhere at some point during the day.

Songiso with the new laptop

Tracey and Judy spent the morning sorting through the donated clothes and mosquito nets to give to the families who live on the farm, and I took Songiso through the various apps we had installed on the donated laptop. Children's puzzles, books and music, as well as some Makaton signing hands singalong DVDs which would help the children to be able to communicate with the deaf residents.
Songiso almost broke down he was so humbled by the generosity of our British colleagues. At the moment, they have no computer at all and so they must walk 45 minutes into town and pay for soft drinks to enable them to use 30 minutes of free cafe wifi to send emails from their phones and communicate with the various farm suppliers and customers. This laptop will make their life so much easier and free up both time and money for the management team, not to mention allow them to produce monthly reports on Excel instead of paper which they can then email directly to the government instead of relying on the postal service.

Elidah and her lunchtime beer break

Donations all handed over and fields fully watered, the residents set up for the party…. Biltong and Songiso wired in some electrics for the speakers and we cleared the classroom of books and moved the desks around the outside to clear a dance-floor area…. Africans do love to dance.

We had a few tops left over which we decided to give to old Bernard, so when we saw him on his way from the farm home for lunch we handed over the bag and said our goodbyes. If we ever come back, he wants a suit so he can go smartly to church... "Mr Bernard they will call me". He wandered down the lane and waited until he reached the gates before opening the bag and finding out what was inside... a man full of respect; he could not see the shirts, nor know what colour or style they were, but he carefully examined each one with his hands - you kill me Bernard - I wish you every health and wealth this beautiful land can provide for you.

Judy and Elidah "twicking" the beer back to the farm

Judy and Elidah took us on a walk at lunchtime back to Mama Joyce's house (their local beer supplier) and after sinking a couple in her garden, the ladies loaded 2 crates full of Castle onto their heads and "twicked" back to the farm. Twicking is not a verb we have in the UK, mainly because no-one carries heavy loads on their heads, yet these women were walking, running and even Judy was dancing, whilst 18 large bottles of beer balanced untouched on a rolled up chitenge on her head. Zambian alcohol purchasing laws turned out to be a blessing in disguise; I wouldn't have missed it for the world... discussing the differences between twicking and twerking, we giggled all the way back as more and more people shouted from their gardens wishing us a great party.

Boodling class of 2017 with all their work

The ladies were all dressed up in their finest outfits, you can get a handmade tailored dress or suit, in a material of your choice, made within a day, for about £15 here and these women clearly love the bright African colours - some had even put on special wigs for the occasion.
As the women arrived with their competition entries, the judging table began to fill, until soon more tables were needed - there were hats, boots, doormats, and hanging baskets, table mats, purses, a pencil case complete with zip, rucksacks and even a water bottle holder. Tracey and I were blown away. We laid everything out and just as the judging was about to start and Tracey and I were thinking how impossible it was going to be, Rachael (from the glass workshop) turned up and agreed to be the one to make an independent final call in each category.
We had prizes for 1st, 2nd and 3rd for Best Hat, Mat, Bag, Basket and Plastic Item, as well as a prize for most inventive item, fastest learner and perseverance, and of course we did not forget Biltong, without whom we would have not been able to continue teaching this week.
Rabeccah came from the Sunbird to watch the prizes being given and left soon afterwards which is when the celebrations began in the classroom next door...

Nothing like a party in England where the dance-floor remains empty until enough alcohol has been consumed that Dad-dancing becomes a must... oh no, the music started and the feet started at exactly the same time. The admirable thing about Africans is that they have no inhibitions, no sense of self-loathing or negative body-image - they laugh, they smile, they dance and sing and they do it as if it were the last time they would ever get to enjoy it. They don't fret that their precious outfits will get dirty or damaged, they move freely and joyously to every beat and Arina made sure there were lots of beats. Traditional Zambian music rang out from that classroom for a good few hours and soon it was our time to go.

Leaving was hard, seriously hard - tears fell, handshakes turned to hugs and hugs turned to squeezes. Going to miss these people for so many reasons; not only have they inspired us, taught us and humbled us, but they are doing such good work and seem eager to continue. The new boodling club starts on Tuesday and will meet twice a week. Rachel will help them to source supplies at sensible prices and with any luck they will soon be making an income from it. They have picked it up so quickly and I am immensely proud of each and every one of them. If their competition entries are anything to go by, this community and it's new club, will be breaking even by the end of the month.

Last day of boodling club

Veronica finishing off Tracey's hat

They were some serious hangovers sat around the breakfast table this morning…. The American lad actually looked green and in quite some pain. Smug mode doesn’t come close.
It seems Vinny enjoyed his day more than he let on as Irish Andy and another guy Paul decided to come with us to the farm today. Both are incredibly tall lads who are on the construction project and placed at a nearby site, building a new school.
We watered the newly dug maize field whilst the boys continued digging the holes to drop the seeds into. With everyone’s help, the field was completely finished and all seeds sown by lunchtime, so instead of waiting around during the 2 hour lunch break, the boys headed off into town whilst Tracey and I prepared for the last boodling class of the trip. Veronica had told me she wanted to make a cloche hat today, so I set about making her a sample one to copy in a baby size.   No sooner had I finished it when she walked through the door having already made one, in an adult size, which she promptly gave to Tracey! Grrrrrrr.
Starving by 11am we opened our packed lunch boxes to see a few cold chips and a hard-boiled egg each for lunch. Not great, but it was something.
Boodling club was packed again and on account of the competition and mention of prizes tomorrow, the ladies were being very secretive and not bringing their competition entries with them in case the others copied their ideas… they cut more materials, asked for help and advice about making bag handles and increasing or decreasing stitches. I cannot wait to see what happens tomorrow when we get to see all their finished work.
Rachael came along today from the soap and glass workshop. She is keen to help make sure the club continues when we’re gone and wanted to meet some of the ladies and learn the basic stitches herself. Biltong had finished carving and varnishing another 5 hooks, so I caved in and taught some more of the children.

new students learning on the last day

When our taxi arrived at 4pm, the ladies were still massively engrossed in cutting and boodling desperately trying to get everything finished for tomorrow. So much so that Tracey comically went into “teacher” mode, and started shooing women out of the room. We almost had to man-handle them to get them to move in the end.
Went into town to get the rest of the supplies needed for tomorrow, but yet again fell at the first hurdle – so we ended up in Kubu having a beer instead. The party shopping will just have to be done in the morning on the way in. I don’t think I will ever truly appreciate African ways.
We made it back for dinner of cold veg mixed with pasta and mince (which we think was soya pieces again) and found most of the volunteers still hungover and shattered after their half day of working. Quite amusing really – Tracey and I were talking last night about how we couldn’t manage such late nights with booze and loud music again these days and it turns out nor can the youngsters!

Stressful day all round

playing draughts with bottle tops

Today did not start well. Tracey’s shoulder pain kept her awake all night and after a cold shower I discovered I have been rewarded for failing to tuck my trousers into my socks with my first African tick. Attached to my knee it was almost black, and very quickly dead. Will keep an eye on the entry point as I hear tick bite fever is pretty nasty – but has an incubation time of 2 weeks.

Metalwork student

One of the other volunteers, a New Zealander named Vinny, came with us to the farm today, and since Songiso now considers us “residents”, we showed him around ourselves whilst we waited for Rachael to turn up. Rachael and her husband Mani run a workshop in Livingstone called Pure Skills, where they make soap and repurpose glass wine bottles into lamps and candle holders. Mani teaches welding and metalwork to the locals and together they employ half a dozen or so people. Since there is no glass recycling in Zambia many people drop their glass empties off at the workshop and if they are too thin to be turned into ornaments, as most of the cheaper beer bottles are, then they send them for crushing and turning into building blocks!
We came back to the farm shortly before lunch and managed 40 minutes of swinging a hoe with Bernard and digging holes for planting more maize with Moffati and the others. Had a chat with Bernard about his religion (Seventh Day Adventist church) and Vinny and I were smiling to ourselves when he launched into song in the fields. The blind Christian whose old lone voice sang quietly across the rows was really quite moving.

re-purposing glass bottle

Tracey’s shoulder meant she couldn’t work the fields today, so she spent the time cutting mutton cloth for boodling in the afternoon.  Unfortunately for Tracey it was impossible to hide the pain she was in and so Cecilia took it upon herself to apply a little Zambian physiotherapy … almost yanking her arm from its’ socket before raising it agonisingly over her heard. Tracey left the room and Cecilia was in apologetic pieces. Today really wasn’t going well.

making soap

On a brighter note, we taught two new youngsters today – Irene and Agnes. Little Agnes has been begging me to teach her for 2 days now and had resorted to teaching herself with some old brown string and a lollipop stick – I felt her determination needed rewarding and handed over one of Biltong’s precious hooks and sat down with her to teach. She picked it up relatively quickly and we began to rethink the ruling that we would only teach the adults. The problem was that as soon as the other children had seen me teach Little Agnes, they all wanted a hook, some materials and me to teach them – we just didn’t have sufficient resources.
After our day at the farm we headed into town to shop and change some money, which was a complete disaster and both Tracey and I were getting quite stressed. We managed to get only 10 of the mossie nets we needed for the farm and only 4 pairs of scissors – we will have to get the rest elsewhere tomorrow – although where from is anyone’s guess. For all the good things here, there are a mountain of frustrations that us Westerners just can’t comprehend. Tracey typically has twice as much patience as me, but even that was not enough today… thankfully when one of us is not coping the other steps up to cover. We got through the day and headed home for much needed beer.
Dinner was a less than satisfying plate of rice and scrambled egg with coleslaw, over which we had a chat about Malaria with the new volunteers, one of whom stated he would rather have malaria than go a night without beer on account of his anti-malaria tablets – really. I mean really???? Sometimes I am seriously embarrassed to be a Muzungu.

Love it when a plan comes together...

Biltong and his sons

Evans (our regular taxi driver) had sent his friend Sam to collect us this morning, who was later than usual and given that we had to stop at the hardware shop on the way to the farm, to get varnish, a paintbrush and some nails, we were less than chuffed at being caught by the train crossing as well. Back and forth it went in front of us for an age, apparently trying to change tracks, but before long we were out in the serenity of the fields again, watering the newly planted maize, whilst Biltong set about sanding and varnishing the boodle hooks for us.

Boodle sticks hand-carved by Biltong

Tracey spent the lunchtime cutting and preparing carrier bags, whilst I made a sample bootie-type slipper for the ladies to copy. Elidah’s Mum turned up today for the first time too, a lovely lady called Virginia. With only a few days to go, the classroom was almost full; women were standing for lack of seats. We even had to shoo them out at 4pm to lock up as they were so engrossed; chatting, boodling and helping each other out when they each got stuck. A joy to watch and although exhausted, Tracey and I couldn’t help but leave smiling and elated. It was working, we were passing on skills and they were passing them on to each other.   We left the women walking up the street together, still twisting yarn around their hooks as they went.  Inspiring someone else to do something creative, free and enjoyable is a truly fantastic feeling.

Cecilia's half-completed bag

After an incredibly fast post-work beer and a change into relatively clean clothes, we were back out again to Zita’s house to teach her to boodle as well.  She had prepared some fish and rape with ground nuts for us to eat. She was hoping to make Nshima with us, but we had failed to tell the Sunbird that we wouldn’t be home for dinner, so after a one hour visit, we had to head home.
Zita lives in a single-storey block of rented rooms – each with its’ own bathroom. She has a small two-ring electric cooker on a trolley next to her bed, and buys her food fresh everyday as she has no fridge and nowhere to store it. Her entire home is smaller than our bedroom at home.

Martha's finished bag

Back at the Sunbird, we had char-coaled meat for dinner (neither Tracey nor I could be sure what kind) with potato and salad, followed by a couple of cups of tea and a big sort out of the donations we have for Linda Farm.  In order to distribute the donations fairly amongst the Ladies at Linda, we have agreed with Songiso to give them away as prizes for various achievements throughout the two weeks we have been there teaching them to boodle. This minimises jealousy and accounts for us potentially not having enough to give everyone something. So we have planned a small party for Friday afternoon to celebrate the new skills the ladies have learnt. They are all incredibly excited and the mention of prizes has spurred them all on even further to finish their bags.
We saw Marsha today outside the gates of Sunbird, or rather he saw us; he was on his way to fill up his water carriers – he is the oldest child of the “high fivers” that we met last year, who still live down the end of our road. He must see hundreds of volunteers where he lives and yet he recognised us and came to say hello - he remembered us and the donated pencil cases and mosquito nets we provided for him and his family. He has two grade 12 exams tomorrow, one for Civil Education and another for Commerce. He is doing well and we agreed to pop in and see them on Friday before we leave. Our social calendar this week is filling up fast.