A Break from Lubwe

It was two weeks ago when I last went to Mansa, the administrative center of Luapula Province. As my food supply is getting low, I jump at the opportunity when Ms. K., the hospital’s medical licentiate, invited me to go along with her to Mansa.

Two hours and one hundred kilometers later, we arrive at Mansa’s town center. I head to the Barclay Bank ATM to take out money. After half a minute, out comes the cash I wanted. Compared to the ordeal last time when I tried to cash my traveler’s checks, this is as painless as it gets. I really have to remember never to touch traveler’s checks again!

I desperately want to check my emails. Unfortunately, power is out in the whole town. So we decide to head out of town to see Mumbuluma Falls, one of numerous waterfalls in this part of the country.

Less than an hour out of Mansa towards the border with Congo (D.R. Congo, that is, the country formerly known as Zaire, not to be confused with Congo-Brazzaville farther north in the continent), the Landcruiser stops at the end of a well-maintained gravel road. The roar of the falls can be heard as we step out of the car. A few people are washing their clothes at the river bank at the other side of the river just above the first falls. Ms. K. tells me that these are Congolese villagers who depend on this river for their water supply. We must be really close to the border now. The tribes living along the arbitrarily drawn border between Zambia and Congo regularly cross it as they had for thousands of years. To them, the central governments of their respective countries are so far away, their lives are hardly affected by the countries’ policies. There is no citizenship, no immigration formalities, no border checks – those are for foreigners like me and urbanites from Lusaka.

We arrive at the end of the gravel road to Mumbuluma Falls

Villagers doing their washing just above the upper falls

Upper falls

Lower Falls. Water levels are very high at this time of the year

At the edge of lower falls

After a picnic by the falls, we head back to Mansa to do some shopping. Compared to ShopRite, in which most produce is trucked in from South Africa, the open-air market in town has the better and cheaper locally-produced fruits and vegetables. As we walk from stall to stall, Ms. K. has to explain to people that, no, I am not part of the group of Chinese here to build the bridge across the river that forms the border between Zambia and Congo.

The main street of Mansa

All the cabs are required to be painted sky blue

The market for all your fruits and vegetables needs

Different types of caterpillars are on offer at this stall

These women just realize I am pointing my camera at them

All stocked up on provisions, we make our way back to Lubwe as the sun starts to set.