I’ve always wanted to tell this story, since, as the title says, it’s Africa, but, to quote Star Trek, not as we know it.
I’d walked into town, and the usual hawkers follow you, but one boy seemed genuinely nice. He seemed about 15 and told me all about his crafts and his business plan to market them. I was very impressed. I promised to help him in any way I could, but I said, right now I just need to get to Maun. He promised me he would help me find a bus, no charge. Although presumably they know foreigners tip. And he did find me a bus, I did tip him with what I could afford. I also kept his details and tried to give them to a few people later on when I’d settled down. This was rather an ordinary story however, and I’m sure anyone will feel relatively safe trusting a kid hawking crafts on the street, surely if there is no other way to find a bus, as my extremely organised, and optimistic self came to Africa without much guidance, no lonely planet guide, just a few photocopied pages.
The lack of guidance led me to the part next story which was rather heart warming for me, to this day. Coming from New Zealand, we were told horror stories about trusting strangers in foreign countries, especially India, Asia, and Africa.
I was beginning to realise that there are very good people out there who want to help everywhere. One must learn to trust the heart.
My only experience prior to this was in Bangkok, on a bus, where the girl collecting the bus fares went out of her way to try to help ensure I was not lost. So caring! I was not lost, I just lived out of the tourist area in a university, around 1.5 hours away by Bangkok traffic terms, as we were on an exchange program. It was my first demonstration by a stranger, in a foreign country, where we were told to test no one, that there are good people everywhere, especially in the lower paid jobs. There are more people who genuinely want to help others amongst the poor in countries in the second and third world, than there are those who will rob you, I believe. And many of those intent on robbing are usually fuelled by drugs or alcohol, or survival, it’s not a bad lot, just survival mostly.
Back in Zimbabwe, I was on a bus, the only white tourist there, the rest of the people were very local. Still distrustful of strangers, I was a little wary when the guy in front of me kept trying to strike up a conversation. But eventually it was a long trip and he seemed pleasant enough. So I appeased him by chatting. We arrived half way in Francistown, and he sort of followed me off the bus. Now I was becoming wary – what did he want with/from me? I told him, like I always do “I’m fine…” But he hung around.
No backpackers in sight, I tried to phone a couple from the payphone, yes, this was the days before cellphones were in wide use. No pay-as-you-go cards at the airport, nor did I have an actual phone.
My friend was still shadowing me, and I was feeling uneasy, alas, but, when no one answered the phone, I was running short of options. He said to me, “Why don’t you come and stay with me?” I’ll get you to the bus stop in the morning. My mind was running wild – what am I getting myself into here??? But my next thought was, well, he seems friendly and harmless, and what choice do I have now, it’s after 5pm and I had no where to stay, nor any idea how to get anywhere.
Extremely dubiously I follow the guy to his house. Turns out, a point he failed to mention, which would have made me more at east, is his wife and daughter were there awaiting us with a lovely home cooked meal on top of it all. I spent an amazing evening getting to know these people, talking about all sorts of things, sharing office tips with his wife who was working in administration at a local office, playing card games with the teenage daughter, who I shared a room with. And to top it off when we went to the bus stop the next day, my friend offered to pay my way if I didn’t have enough money left. No reward needed – my first taste of African hospitality.
I think this experience was the point of no turning back for Africa. For some once you ‘feel the rains’ you can never leave. That was how it was for me, Africa is something else, and would become home. I’d planned to travel the world to find a place I could call home, but little did I know it was very close. Anyhow, first there was Maun to get through. And Maun had a very different feeling to Zimbabwe for sure.
