Holding Fast to Dreams...: bovu island

Showing posts with label bovu island. Show all posts

Saturday, 13 September 2014

manacled hipster...

Excuse me, is that a hand-rolled cigarette you’re holding?

America is chock-full of hipsters, yeah? Portland, Brooklyn, New Orleans, Chicago, St. Louis, San Francisco. Oh, friend… Wait till you see Africa. You've only got the remnants..

I think we probably more resemble what people would call hippies than anything else. Except that many of us are young professionals. In Jesus sandals, retro Ray-Bans, and beaten up Panama hats.. [I include myself in their ranks – therefore nullifying my ability to be a hipster – because they hate it when you call them that – of course, that qualifies me yet again for the title… but moving on..]

I've met teachers, researchers, conservationists, hotel managers, travel guides, and writers. Doctors, nurses, NP project managers, graphic designers, and chefs.

Some of them volunteer. Some of them work for NGOs and non-profits. Supervise school administration. Manage hotels in secluded, blissful places. Some are just taking a break from their career. They come from all corners of the globe.

[A legacy of imperialism.

The desire and ability to see the wonders of the planet. So far, often, from the ‘civilized’ places back home where we've stuck up casinos, hotels, mini malls, and parking garages adjacent to all the sites to see there.. ]**

We constantly try to seek out the fundamental experiences of living abroad.

The ones you get when you allow yourself to be cut off from home.

We hitch-hike, barter, beg, and borrow to make it from one place to another.

We travel insane distances overland to get to these places of wonder..

As a Peace Corps volunteer working 50 hours a week, I have had only a nibble of what Africa has to offer.. PC Volunteers are constantly under the umbrella of bureaucracy that is the US Government. If we leave our village for anything longer than a weekend, paperwork must be produced, signed and approved. Then again.. Every three and a half months, I can abscond from my village for a week or two or so during holiday.

The desire to keep tabs on volunteers is a good one. A necessary thing.

But, damn if it doesn't feel like I’m in high school trying to make sure I don’t miss my curfew. Being in the Peace Corps you lose a chunk of your autonomy.

The experience is worth it in the long run, but ooo-eee it’s a challenge walk that line.

I've got one year to go. One.

I’m excited to let a little loose.

Being this well behaved isn't good for my psyche.

Animal just wants to be free, man.. | Jungle Junction, Bovu Island, Zambia

**The above is not to suggest Africans, or Namibians, do not travel, or that they do not qualify as hipsters. Quite the contrary. Also, I’m pretty sure Africa engendered the first generation of hipsters. We’re all facsimiles of the original.

Wednesday, 10 September 2014

this is never going to work.

So I met this Nomad in Kavango.
He is in the process of bartering his way around the world.
A year and a half into the process, in fact.
The man gets around... because people take him there... for free.

I admit. I was skeptical. In my head, I had a contingency for when things fell apart.
I figured, especially with me on along for the ride (as dead weight, essentially) that this would never work.

Check out my guest blog on The Nomadic Diaries to read about my trip with the Nomad which took us from Katima Mulilo, Namibia to Livingstone, Zambia to Mosi Oa Tunya Falls to Bovu Island, Zambia.