Nearly the end...

I took one last cycle trip the day before I left Zambia, for a final glimpse of life here and to get more photos, but with little success. Unless you know them already, many people really object to their photos being taken: even if you ask permission, they often refuse and if you try and snap surreptitiously, they usually spot the camera and shout at you! So I gave up and spent the time chatting with Patrick, my 20 year old guide, instead. Like many other people here, both Patrick's parents died young.  His home village is several hundred kilometres further north where most of his family still live, including his grandmother who looks after his youngest two sisters. As we stood on the rickety wooden bridge overlooking the railway, Patrick told me it would take him two days travel by train to visit them, with a10 kilometre walk at the other end. He found it unbelievable that it would take me less than 24 hours to fly all the way from southern africa back to London.
I am not sure how Patrick ended up in Livingstone, but at some point, Cowboy Cliff had given him a room to stay in at the pre-school and trained him as a cycle guide. He earns enough money to pay his school fees, which are due every three months. He is in the final class at high school, grade 12, and this week he was sitting his end of year exams in Physics, Maths, Chemistry and Biology. There are no free libraries where he can revise and everywhere is noisy during the day, so he does most of his studying at night-time when it is quieter. He told me how when he was younger, he and his friends would go and sit out in the bush together to do their homework in peace, but this arrangement fell apart when his friends started drinking or smoking marijuana, so he cut himself off from them and studied alone. Patrick dreams of qualifying as a doctor or an engineer and coming to Europe. The unemployment rate in Zambia is something extraordinary like 65%, so working abroad is a very common aspiration. Others make no secret of looking for a "mzungu" (white) girlfriend for their ticket out of poverty - whether they are married already or not. One taxi driver turned to me after a few minutes silence the other day, and asked me earnestly whether men were allowed more than one wife in my country. I am not sure what his follow up question was going to be if I had said yes! 
But Patrick is a lovely, genuine boy and spending time with him was a humbling experience -   one of the many delightful, hard working, open hearted people I have met during my time here, and who I hope I will stay in touch with once I get home.


This rather unexciting picture is a typical road scene - note everyone on foot, boy wheeling barrow, piles of rubbish and two friends greeting each other.