On the road again

Breakfast was by Zambian standards superb. Unlimited eggs, bacon, beans, oatmeal, fruit, muffins, juice and coffee. Elaine and I opted for the coffee - instant (Zambia’s only option), mango juice and homemade muffins. I don’t know what her reasoning was, but I knew the ride ahead and didn’t want to temp the ‘big D’ as it had been referred to by the group.
The caravan left the hotel in Lusaka about 8am. 2 pickups loaded overflowing with suitcases tied to the back, we must have been a sight to behold. Our driver was very sensitive to the jarring effect of weaving in and out of traffic and cautiously passed vehicles leaving ample room for a gentle entrance and exit of the other lanes. He was extremely sensitive of speed bumps and rolled gently over each. After what seemed 4 or 5 hours of traveling, the troops demanded a potty break. One of the nationals investigated the local latrine, and in his words it was disgusting. We continued along the road with no reservation, but the need still demanded a stop in the bush. We were on the only road from Lusaka to Livingston, used by cars and trucks alike. It was suggested that the ladies hold up a blind of shatangas, but they were packed in the suitcases that were by now hundreds of miles ahead. Yankee ingenuity and female persuasion prevailed… we took the curtains off the windows of the bus and the ladies marched into the bush.
In the mean time, it didn’t take the guys long to get into trouble. I found an old walking stick and we began to get creative in its usage. Doc directed 4 guys to hold the stick above their heads so one of the medical students, Jake, could perform is morning workout. In the middle, a highway patrol car pulled up. This was the one and only police car we had seen in the hundreds of miles we had driven. They checked on us, laughed with us and were on their way. When the ladies came from the bush giggling we knew they felt a whole lot better, and off we were again. We stopped at the same museum as last year for those who didn’t venture into the woods almost an hour later.
The final leg of our journey was before us. The road of pot holes!!! There was a strip just before entering Livingston I remember being about 45 minutes long of horrid conditions. Either the road was extended or last year we flew through them, but this year it seemed endless. We knew it was ridiculous when the national said we were not going over pot holes but trenches… I have a picture of us driving on the shoulder rather than along the road. Our driver refused to sacrifice our comfort for speed, and at one point a bicycle passed us. We are both laughing now, but grateful for the attitudes then. The dust was unbearable then all of a sudden, the bus air conditioner which was broken began to work. The driver was unable to explain why it began to work, so we did; the Lord allowed us to close all the windows and drive through this arid countryside in comfort. Finally after what seemed to be 3 more hours, we were traveling along an almost pothole free pavement.