10 August 2009

10 August, Day 58: dancing with Interpol

Way before sunrise the others were already off to Moonia’s shop. We take our time with breakfast and repacking a few things before we head out at 10:00, after the pick up our order of meat and eggs from the butcher.

By 12:00 we arrive back at that little shopping complex we used previously, at the beginning of our journey. Shopping is in full swing and 2 full trolley loads are already done and dusted. We offer to pay for the third along with our own stash of drinks and alcohol. It was decided that each couple will cater for their own drinks while the food is a group effort. The girls already worked out a menu for us, since how it works is that you supply the ship’s cook with the foodstuffs and a general idea of what you’d like him to do with it and he’ll cook it up.

Fanie and Hannelise will be driving with us to the border today, so we needed to clear the back seat of the Bullet again. All loaded up with groceries and our new passengers the group heads out to the Zambia / Zimbabwe border. A quick stop will be required before that though at a resort on the banks of the Kariba, on the Zambia side. Here Fanie will organise with the owner of the lodge to receive the repaired Colt so that he can collect it once we return from the boat trip. Moonia has written a letter and made the required calls ahead, so that Fanie can just leave the money with the lodge and get the car keys. Cool, huh?

The road is very scenic, consisting mostly of mountain passes. After a short winding drive we are treated to the first view of the lake. I have to admit, if I didn’t know it was a lake I would have thought we’ve reached the ocean again! Because it was a bit hazy as well it seemed like the horizon never ended, as sky and water met in perfect colour balance.

We arrive at the Lake Safari Lodge and meet with the owners son, Matthias. Fanie speaks to him and hands over the letter and the arrangement is made. We order some soft drinks, in order for me to rid myself of the remaining 675 000 Kwacha I still had in my pocket. The Fantas arrive flat and devoid of carbonated delight. I send it back, saying it’s flat. The waiter argues that Fanta doesn’t have gas in it. I guffaw, and order a coke instead. This time, it has gas.

Turns out, he was right. You see, there is a large bottling plant in Zimbabwe, that still bottles Fanta. Only, they cannot buy the gas to carbonate the drinks anymore. So Fanta does indeed devoid of bubbly. Heh, imagine that.

All done, we prepare ourselves for one of our final border crossing adventures. The Zambian side is quite easily done although the guys that work in the office there clearly have nothing to do with themselves. To get to the Zimbabwe side we are have to drive across over the dam wall and we’re treated to a magnificent site. A few stats: the Kariba reservoir is an expansion of the Zambezi River. Built in 1955-1959 it’s a great hydroelectric facility that straddles the border between Zambia and Zimbabwe. The dam itself is 128 m high and has a length along its crest of about 610 m. Lake Kariba extends upstream for 282 km (175 mi), through Kariba Gorge, and has a maximum width of about 40 km (about 25 mi). When the lake was formed, in 1960 and 1961, some 50,000 persons required resettling, and many wild animals were evacuated in a project called Operation Noah.

We clandestinely snap a few pics, not sure how they’ll turn out...

On the other end we park the vehicles and start dancing through the red tape, in a little LOUD office with a door that slams shut every 2 minutes. We pay our carbon tax (what a joke) and clear the vehicles through customs. Then something unusual happens: we are requested to step around the back and fetch Interpol so that they can inspect our vehicles. Oooo, kay.

So I go around the back to find these two dudes just kicking back on a bench. I humbly request their presence to inspect the 3 vehicles around the corner and after some more Q & A they finally agree to do some work today. Next, they want me to pop the hood so that they can check the engine and chassis numbers to the Carnets details. And wouldn’t you know it, the chassis number of the Bullet doesn’t match up to that on the Carnet...

Fak.

Okay, in all fairness, it’s a small clerical error. The 20 digit number has one “0” missing in the middle, but the rest, including the engine number, number plate, description of the vehicle even the colour of the leather seats are spot on. But this is Africa, and now we have a problem. As I’m trying to figure out a way to explain Mattie goes on a rant about what bullshit this is, why do they have to check the cars, surely a Carnet is enough and and and... (at this stage, he didn’t know the chassis number didn’t match up!). There goes a perfect opportunity to try and clear the border quickly, and now we have a situation on our hands. More back and forth between the two Interpol guys and Mattie, before Interpol walks off. I explain to Mattie, through gritted teeth, that his timing is more than unfortunate, before walking after them. They check out Dirk’s Toyota in the meantime, and I tag along like a god damned puppy holding the Carnet, asking them to please be so kind as to check my vehicle.

I’ve played this game so many times by now, it’s not unlike working with children. They’re feelings have been hurt now, you see, so there is a lot of soothing and making jokes and ass licking involved to get the fucking guy to just do his job. And of course it makes it harder, now that I’m technically in the wrong, since the docs don’t match up. We walk back, he double checks all the info again, Mattie has calmed a bit after my pep talk and they clear the Ford. Back to the Bullet and we still have a problem. I make jokes, explain that it’s clearly a dumb clerical error, that I’ll kick some ass when I get into Cape Town, how observant they are to notice it, how they’re only doing their job (the other, ratty looking one keeps swigging from a little vodka bottle during all of this. I ask him if he’s allowed to drink on the job and he leers at me...) and what we can do to “remedy the situation”. The Interpol talking head explains that the usual procedure in this situation would be to detain the vehicle and have the AA send a letter explaining the fault. It’s 17:00. Oh, and it’s a public holiday in S.A. today, Woman’s Day, I believe.

Fak Fak.

I down to smiling and making sexiest jokes at this point (“oh, it’s woman’s day!? Ja, I didn’t even know that, since I’m not a woman! Stupid woman, why do they need a holiday?? Get back in the kitchen! Har har hahah...)

Anecdote: did I mention I die a little inside each time I have to condescend to these meat balls?

So he looks at his drink-swigging ratty friend and asks “should we do him a favour?”. Slight pause, there is a mention of beer, at least I can buy them a beer, under breath. He stamps the Carnet and starts signing it, I ask how much a beer costs, they say about $1.50 (Ratty colleague mentions under his breath that he needs at least $10 to get pissed. Lightweight...) so I hand them $8 to go have a beer on me, not a bribe, more like “friends buying other friends a nice cold round”. Handshakes, smiles, I’m told that I’m a very friendly guy (thanks. Asshole) and I now have to head back to the office to get the gate pass stamped for 4 people. I do so quickly, lest we get stuck into another round of negotiations.

Get the stamps, go to the gate, and we hit another snag. “Can you open the back please, let me see your luggage.” Annelie says : “what? Really?? HAHAHA, Good luck”.

*sigh*

Please baby, PLEASE don’t aggravate the last damn obstacle to get into this freaking country!! I smile my best game show host smile and say “sure, be my guest!” and open the back. Guy asks what’s in the fridge. I reply meat. Fanie is horrified, says in Afrikaans I shouldn’t have said that. Didn’t have a choice Amigo! So the guy asks me to open it, and I do. He asks how it’s packages and I make a big show of proving it’s from Shoprite and it’s fresh and all good. He pauses and says ok, I can close it. As I do, the other guy with him says “stop, open again please.” He asks how many KG’s I have in there, I say, gee, I dunno, enough for 12 people for 4 days? He says no no, we have to unpack it all and declare it, I protest and say no, it’s food for us, for 4 days. We have to further explain that it’s for 8 of us, travelling in 3 vehicles (4, I mean 3! One is broken!) and then we’re meeting one more person, plus 3 crew on the boat. So how much meat is it? I reply, again, for the slow class, “enough meat to feed 12 people for 4 days”. Pause, uncomfortable one. He loses interest and says we can go.

FINALLY!!

Over to the other side, into Zim (bye bye Zambia!) and meet up with (yet another) cousin of Fanie’s, named Jenny. We all pile in the cars and head out, away from the twilight zone that is a border crossing in Africa.

We approach a rather large looking house through a set of security gates up a slight hill. Before the hill to the left are rows on rows of large blue nets that I recognise from the fishing village we visited in Malawi as drying nets for fish. Once at Jenny’s house, we park the cars and can finally relax. Teas and coffees and a fantastic view of the lake from Jenny’s lawn. The house is perched on a cliff that leads down stone stairs to a harbour and bay about 15 meters below. She owns a Kepenta fishing company, and the harbour and bay with it. It’s quite a large stretch of real estate! Kapenta is the name of a very small fish, a bit like sardines or bokoms. These are caught in droves by Kapenta boats, who look just like cockroaches, by dropping nets behind the boat and luring the fish with a light attached to the back. The boats are quite basic, resembling a poor man’s catamaran built on oil drums, all of them pitch black and gangly looking. But, they sure get the job done! The fish are then brought to shore and dried in the nets and so on I saw earlier and sold to the locals as a abundant source of protein. The fish are consumed as is or added to porridge and other dishes.

Tonight we are sleeping in what is the lounge of a two bedroom bachelors flat, across the way from the house proper. Tomorrow we’ll have a moment to catch our bearings again, pack for the 4 day cruise / stay on the lake and rethink our strategy for the last bit of the journey once we return. Looks like we may go through Botswana on the way to South Africa, or maybe just cut strait South, to Beitbrug. Mattie has organise a plane ticket for Marietta home on the 17th, so the following Monday. And I think Fanie would need to head back to Zambia to fetch his car, while Dirk and Marieke aims to head straight home on the day we return.

So basically this should be the last trip were the entire group is together before everyone heads their separate way to reach S.A.

Highlights: Only about 2 more border posts to cross before we get back home!

Looking forward to 4 days of being catered for

[G & A], out

One more time, with feeling

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