The Year of the Ox

I Spent the day in Chinatown bringing in the year of the ox and the start of the 4,707th year on the Chinese calendar. We started off the morning having Dim Sum. Dim Sum is a snack served at tea or breakfast time and consists of meat, vegetables and seafood in various dumpling type preparations and is a very popular family gathering. At the Empress in downtown LA, the maitre d' seats you at a table with a guest check and a pot of tea. The servers wheel around with trolley carts, each with a different dish on them, you pick out what you want and they stamp your check. Everything is in Chinese so its difficult to know exactly what you're ordering - some hits, some misses - but it's certainly adventurous. It's very cheap and a fun and filling way to eat. In honor of the New Year a troupe came through the restaurant doing a traditional lion dance.

It's been years since I've visited Chinatown so after breakfast we strolled through the courtyard where a crowd was already gathering for the celebration. There was a stage in the center and a line up of customary folly was scheduled all afternoon. The first act was a group of seven synchronized drummers beating their drums with fury.

I was amazed by the diverse crowd turnout. It was a wonderful representation of Los Angeles and all the different ethnicities we
attract. Next up was the Lion dance. It was rather impressive because each lion is commandeered by two people - one at the head and one managing the body - who are so well coordinated in their movements in near perfect sync with the symbols clanging out percussion rhythms.

Following was a slew of acrobats and warriors. Their focus and incredible agility was intense. Young girls bent their bodies into pretzels, spun hula hoops on every limb while others balanced vases extending three feet in the air on the end of sticks from their nose. Showing off their strength and talent a group of young men tumbled and did handsprings through small rings like Olympic gymnasts before flying through the air on poles 15 feet high as effortless as monkeys.Then warriors display their expertise with nun-chucks and Kill Bill style whirly things. They even sparred with swords while blindfolded. Amazing.

By now it was time for the parade. I'm not a huge fan of parades but I thought this might be a little different experience. It wasn't. We'd seen all the excitement I had hope for so we only stuck around long enough to see the dragon which was maybe 60 feet long manned by about 20. It was a very interesting cultural experience plus I found my new favorite go to gift shop called Flock Shop. The owners, Michelle and her husband, insist on carrying only domestically made artisan items for the urban lifestyle. Just another reason to visit Chinatown.

It Takes A Village

For being one of the seven natural wonders of the world and consequently a tourist destination, Victoria Falls is surprisingly undeveloped. There are a scant few hotels in the area and town is nondescript except that it looks like any 3rd world small town where tourism is the mainstay; ramshackle buildings riddled with tour companies for thrill-seekers, adorned with unemployed loiterers. We learned that about 1/2 Zimbabwe's population (about 5 million people) live in villages and exist as if it were another century. The only upside to this arrangement is that they do not rely on their ill-conceived government for anything. The current predicament of a contaminated water supply not withstanding. Otherwise they abide by their traditions.

Each village has a village head (leader) who is overseen by a chief. The chief may have 4 villages under his authority and he acts as the magistrate for each. The chief and heads confer on village practices, crime punishment, land distribution and other such matters. Villages are self-sustaining and coalescent in nature. Decisions regarding infrastructure are made collectively and constructed with resources found on the land. For example if they want to build a school everyone contributes to it's construction. Most of what they need can be found in the bush around them but on the occasion that they should need to purchase building materials they will raise the money or sell some of their assets. They grow their own food - mainly maize, sorghum, squash, pumpkin - and cure illness through traditional witch doctor methods, antidotes often derived from local plants and fruits, etc.

Land is free and is given to the eldest born boy by the chief. He just need ask for it. Huts are erected of tree branches and bark, and roofs thatched with grasses. Floors are made of clay earth and the exterior walls are plastered with dung. Parents share one hut as the master bedroom and there will be additional huts for the girls to share and one for the boys. There is always a separate kitchen hut and those where grains and dried meat is stored. Multiple marriages are rare these days but in the event that a man takes more than one wife each will have her own bedroom and kitchen. It is forbidden for the wives to share kitchen utensils. They can share their husband but not their spoons. Visitation is entirely up to the husband but protocol is that the eldest wife is the most respected and the youngest is the most loved. Each villager is born in the kitchen and everyone dies in the kitchen (pregnant ladies are put there to deliver and the sick lay up there too).

The eldest son is in charge of the family assets - livestock, crop accumulation. The youngest son is expected to remain on the homestead and care for the elders and the land repeating the cycle with his own family. It is assumed that female children will marry and move into their husband's home so family assets are not passed to them in order to keep the family fortune pure. If a man bears only daughters the uncles will benefit from the fruit of his labor. Marriages are not often arranged anymore and occur much younger than they used to. People used to marry in their late 20's but now they start families earlier so they can be around to raise their children since AIDS is so prevalent. Because as much as 25% of the population has AIDS, disease is feared as hospitals are often hundreds of kilometers away and they have no means of getting there or even paying for services if they can.

As primitive as this lifestyle seems there is something so pure and functional about it. Yes, it's a hard life, toiling in the sun and literally performing rain ceremonies for days on end to inspire Mother Nature's mercy. But ask yourself if your life is any less hard. We are not nearly as self-reliant as we'd like to believe.

Mosi-oa Tunya (Smoke that Thunders)

Zimbabwe is wonderful in every unimaginable way. I realize we were on vacation and most of our encounters were with people in hospitality but I find it difficult to find the words to express how warm and beautiful the people are. The country is desperate but you wouldn't know it by the spirit of its people. When we got off the plane in Victoria Falls it was midday and already temperatures were soaring. December is the peak of the rainy season and the height of summer in the Southern Hemisphere. We patiently waited behind dozens of people to reach the immigration and passport control agents. We purchased our visas and waited for our names to be recorded in an official guest book accompanied by a stamp in our passports. While waiting for others in the group I saw a couple of men conversing. One of them saw a newspaper sticking out of my bag and asked if he could peruse it. I gladly gave it to him and took the opportunity to open conversation. His name is Wellington and he's 35 years old. He works at the airport and is the sole breadwinner for his family of seven including his small children and elderly parents. He told me earns about $5.00 US per month. Like many of the men I was fortunate enough to speak to he was educated in the capitol city of but returned to his hometown for work. Zimbabwe boasts a 94% literacy rate but is eclipsed by dim employment prospects as unemployment is roughly 75% according to Wellington and corroborated by others. I quizzed him about Mugabe and he concurred that he's crazy but was somewhat sympathetic and cynical at the same time citing that the opposition is no better. We discussed cholera, a problem he does blame on the government and resents that accurate death figures are not published. He ridiculed the UN's policy on sanctions reminding me that it's the masses who suffer, not the elite. I recall him using the phrase "hunger is on our doorstep daily". The thought gives me chills. What Wellington complimented and really struck me is his government's ability to make people feel like tomorrow will be better. Whether or not the government is responsible the sentiment is exactly one I witnessed time and again throughout this journey. I can only describe the people I interacted with as souls of shining light. They are happy, bright, funny, smart, thoughtful and simply glow. By our standards they don't have very much but are so rich in attributes that really matter. It was quite a life a lesson being in their presence.

Stepping away from the tarmac in Vic Falls there was a group of men in traditional garb, or lack thereof, dancing and chanting to rhythmic beats. This was a most charming segue to the sauntering livestock we stopped our vehicle for just as we pulled onto the road. The main road into town is paved but most outlying roads are a brilliant red clay. People, baboons, wort hogs, goats, cows, donkeys, elephants, leopards all share the soft shoulder alongside the asphalt. Incidentally, it would seem they are all vying for the same food resources as well. Zimbabwe once boasted being Africa's food basket and now half its population relies on international food aid. The other half rely solely on mother nature as they live in primitive agrarian villages and exchange no currency whatsoever - wealth being measured in livestock. I'll describe more on their traditions later. For now I want to get down to some of the fun stuff we did. Our schedule was jam-packed the whole time so after dumping our belongings at the hotel we headed to Devil's pool. Unbeknownst to us the pool is only accessible from the Zambian side of the gorge carved by the mighty Zambezi river.

Our vehicle slowed as we approached the Zimbabwe/Zambia border and the guide's voice over the mic warned that we should refrain from taking photos. Unfortunate because it was like watching a movie. Hoards of downtrodden were there to peddle their goods, including "souvenir" currency, as we disembarked. One US dollar would buy 2.2 million Zimbabwe dollars at the bank but these desperate souls were selling a one million dollar note for "just a buck". We filed past the masses along the dusty dirt road into a dilapidated building to have our one day visa issued and fee collected. Women waited patiently with boxes of bread while their rickshaw looking delivery cart and driver awaited on the other side of the border as tourists cut the line. And well-behaved shy and curious children pinned themselves to their mothers dresses. The guard, lifeless in the heat, limbs hanging over his desk inside an open shed with a newspaper over his face to keep the bugs off, was startled by our presence at the heavy iron arm marking the invisible boundary. The process was repeated just a 1/2 kilometer away to clear our passports. Minutes later we arrived at a beautiful manicured parkland. It was the Royal Livingston resort property. Walking through the breezy lobby of this hotel engulfed with natural light and British colonial island antiques felt like Humphrey Bogart was about to sache up to the poolside bar any minute. As we cleared the French doors a dazzle of zebras was in our path not 15 feet away. I was so overwhelmed by their stunning beauty and proximity that the orientation regarding Devil's Pool was a little fuzzy. We all jumped into little power fishing boats for transport to Livingston Island. In true hospitable African fashion a cool lychee drink was offered as we docked and commenced our short, picturesque hike to the falls. We passed the "loo with a view" which is a glamorous outhouse open to the Zambezi and the mist of the falls. The island is lush and riddled with all kinds of beautiful things from orchids and lilies to myriad species of butterflies and millipedes galore. As we approached the falls the cooling mist was welcome in the sticky air but the slippery algae covering our rocky footpath was a little hairy since we were right on the edge of the gorge. Alex, one of the guides, grabbed my hand so we could get pictures over the edge and I said "what do you say we jump...just like Thelma and Louise". And he nodded vigorously. And then I thought, OMG I don't know this man or anything about his life and mental state and quickly withdrew my hand. He was as witty as I thought I was - a trait common in all the the local people we met. I can see how people would be drawn into the beauty of a water fall if you have a death wish - it's pretty inviting. So we made our way along the precipice to the jumping off point for Devil's Pool.

Devil's pool is a natural "eddie" or pooling rock formation right on the edge of Main Falls where the water tumbles over at a height of 111 meters or over 300 feet. Evidently the river is only passable in December when the water is at it's lowest and you can walk out to it across the river on a normal day. But this December day was different. They had just had over 18 hours of rain and the river was significantly higher than usual for this time of year and the current was strong. The guides told us we needed to be strong swimmers in order to endure the current out to the pool. Since it was effectively my first day in Africa and I'm a lousy swimmer I decided to hang back. But some of my group braved it. The guides stripped down to their underwear and lead the swimmers over the slick and craggy rocks like a kindergarten class hand to hand. We watched as they swam with the current on a diagonal not 300 yards from the edge of the falls to a tiny bush in the middle of the river to catch their breath before the next leg of the relay. With great relief they all made it gingerly into the pool; only the guides doing any kind of tricks. Time spent at the bush on the return trip was longer as they heeded the hippos bathing in the water just behind them before floating back ashore. They said swimming in the current was a breeze compared to being in the pool with a toe so strong it wanted to suck them over the falls. They had to wedge between 2 rocks to keep from succumbing to the river's force.

Afternoon tea was served under a canopy on the island. We indulged in fruity Pimm's Cup cocktails, delicious chicken curry tartlets, and oodles of laughs before returning to the resort where more entertainment awaits. Is there anything more fun than a barrel of monkeys? Not in my opinion. Vervet monkeys are as much a part of the Zimbabwe landscape as the trees they swing from. You can't help noticing the most prominent feature - giant robin's egg blue balls in the male vervet. Overall the monkey is quite small in stature but sports disproportionately sized testes. I asked one of the guides why that is and he said it makes them more attractive to their mates. I thought I would try to get away with that argument in my household. :] We saw lots of babies and learned that monkeys mate all year long with a gestation period of 7 months. The babies weren't very old with barely any hair and very alien looking. While they like to exercise their playful independence they don't drift too far away from their mothers teats - disturbingly long and painful looking protuberances.

Our first day in such a heavenly place, full of Pimm and vigor, made us hail David Livingstone for stumbling into the "smoke that thunders" during his African expedition.

Who's in your 5?

My fav 5 at the moment happens to be Africa's big 5. Gaze upon their beauty...

You're not my friend

If you're looking here for Africa photos you're not my friend on facebook.

I have over 2000 images to weed through so it may be a while before I post them here in bulk. In the meanwhile I put a few pics up on facebook for your viewing pleasure.

The Boma

I guess I'll start by explaining the picture in the previous post. It was taken the night before New Year's eve in Zimbabwe and the back story is as follows. We were staying at an African influenced American style hotel which clearly catered to western travelers. Since cholera is pandemic in the country at the moment it is assumed that people will want to eat in the hotel restaurants rather than venturing out into the small town of Victoria Falls for nourishment. However, the choices are not so adventurous - pizza, TexMex or a very expensive buffet. For me, one of the reasons to travel is to experience the culture including the food. After a couple of lousy burgers I asked the server to recommend a local place where we could get some authentic African faire. She thought we might enjoy The Boma so our group leader arranged for us to dine there. We arrived to be greeted with colorful African printed cloth that was draped over each of us like a toga and ushered in to a large hut (effectively) - partially thatched-roof, partially open to the starry sky. Refreshments of locally brewed tangy beer made with "maize", a staple in the local diet, was served. Then came the appetizers: smoked crocodile and a ostrich & guineafowl pate. The band fired up after the first course and every diner was given a drum. As you might imagine we made a horrific noise and had the best time doing it. It's much harder than it looks but it cleanses the soul. A local man was coming around with face paint and we all made like good sports. I told him I wanted to look like a fierce warrior. We chatted it up and laughed a lot during the 5 minutes it took him to transform me and I asked if he was making me into a target. With true Ndebele humor he quizzically replied, "I thought you were fierce". So fierce I was that I marched up to the BBQ pit and loaded my plate with wort hog, kudu steak and buffalo stew and devoured it like a native. I didn't try the mopani worms but would have had deep fried caterpillar if I'd seen it. Though it was reminiscent of a Hawaiian Luau our African experience was on the upswing. What a great night.

I'm home!

And ready to get blogging about Africa the beautiful. I'm not exactly sure where to start so I'll write individual tales and probably skip around a lot. I'm trying to get my photos organized so I can post them as a slide show on this page. So keep checking back as I'll be writing soon.