I’m on my way to Lusaka (I seem to be going there too often than I’d like). This time, it’s for the national VSO conference. 2 days of workshops, sharing experiences, listening to guest speakers (let’s hope they are good) and mostly catching up with friends over a couple of bottles of Zambian beer and a good cheap all-you-can eat Indian curry at Mahaks (a regular destination for VSO vols who have forgotten what a good curry tastes like).
The next morning I’m slightly regretting the curry, especially as I wait in the heat for 2 hours at Lusaka’s dangerously notorious City Market Bus station. I’m heading to Siavonga with Rosie, one of the volunteers from Chipata. We’re heading there for a weekend break before the conference begins and regrettably we’re going there by ‘bus’. One thing I will never get used to about Zambia is the bus system. Basically there is no system. The only rule that anyone needs to learn is that there is no timetable. The bus will leave once it’s full. That could be ‘now, now’ or ‘soon, soon’, which literally translates into ‘as soon as the bus is full’. The only sign of life on my bus (which happens to be the only bus heading to Siavonga) is the presence of 2 old women, a bag of maize and a chicken on the back seat. The rest of the 22 seats are empty. We’re in for a long wait.
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