Ashley, Garrett, Shaun and I had an ambitious agenda for the day. We are planning a Christmas vacation in Zanzibar and we need train tickets from Kapiri-Mposhi to Dar es Salaam. We'd heard horror stories of fellow PCVs who'd reserved their train tickets for the 3-day journey only to find that when they got to the train station the day of departure, their reservations had been given away to people who showed up earlier that day with cash in hand. At Kasanka, we were already halfway from our home in Luapula to Kapiri-Mposhi train station. So, we decided to try our luck getting down to Kapiri-Mposhi and buying our tickets now, and hopefully making it back the same day to Serenje, where we can stay the night at the Peace Corps Provincial House.
Our friend Vanessa had no need for this mad agenda, so she headed the other direction back to Mansa.
As luck would have it, around 08:00, after just 20 minutes out on Tute Road, a decent covered pickup stopped to pick us up. The four of us piled in the covered bed of the truck with our bags and made ourselves at home among the man's bags of dried and fresh fish (no doubt purchased from the fishermen and women at Luapula Bridge). We opened the windows as the day was already warming up, and Ashley set up her speakers and MP3 player to give our ride a soundtrack.
After awhile, we started to get pretty hungry. We hadn't had anything to eat that morning because the 2 loaves of bread we'd bought had turned unsalvagably moldy within a day of purchasing them (damn). To pass the time and forget about my hunger, I pulled up Facebook on my phone. This being the week before Thanksgiving, all the status updates were about food- not helpful.
Tute Road is notorious as the road less traveled. Riding in the hitch we'd caught, we kept thinking of our friend Vanessa who we left waiting on the road trying to catch a ride in the opposite direction. After 2 hours traveling down that road, we hadn't seen anything going the other way. There is no other road in this stretch, which means Vanessa was still waiting at the roadside. She'd be waiting there for a while. We found out later that the first vehicle finally sped by her over 3 quiet hours after she'd got to the roadside. This is pretty typical of hitching to Mansa- there is just not much traffic headed up that way and we've learned not to be too picky.
Back on our hitch, our driver made a stop in Serenje around noon and we all got out for a quick snack and stretch at one of the tuck shops. I opened my Coke on the dusty roadside and took a big, refreshing gulp in the bright sun. I had to laugh: I was living a Coke commercial, compete with a deserted filling station and a stray dog trotting by.
By 13:00, we'd arrived at our destination: Kapiri-Mposhi train station. We thanked the man who'd given us a lift and made a contribution to his fuel expense. He dropped us off at the Kapiri-Mposhi train station and, sweaty, dirty and hungry, we hauled ourselves into the train station.
We noted how quiet the train station was. I am used to train stations in California or Europe, where passeners mill about, ticketing agents are busy issuing tickets and conduuctors are boarding trains. This was different: there were maybe 4 other people at the station, including staff and loiterers. There was no train that day, which meant there was little sign of life at the train station. It also meant the ticket office was closed. Well, we hadn't expected that. Had we come all this way in vain?
No, where there's a will there's a way. (Maybe, at least.)
After searching around the quiet station, we found someone who told us we should wait until 14:00 for the Stationmaster to come back from lunch. So we waited. At 14:30, a station security guard approached Shaun to tell him he was in fact waiting in vain: the Stationmaster had already knocked off for the day.
What? Oh no he didn't!
And sure enough, no, he hadn't. A smartly dressed man with a nice phone, who looked like he might work at the station, walked by and we caught his attention. The gentleman did in fact work at the station and he called the Stationmaster for us. The Stationmaster was at the station. Phew!
He invited us into his office while he made a couple phone calls to see how we could purchase tickets. Despite being the Stationmaster, he was not able to facilitate our transaction. So, he called in the Booking Agent, who had already knocked off and was enjoying his afternoon at the bar.waiting in this man's office, the thought going through our minds was the same: here we are, ready to fork over millions of kwacha for train tickets. Why is it so hard for us to give these people our money? Also, passengers of this train come from all over Africa- how do they purchase their tickets? Are they left to wait days until the Booking Office opens?
After about half an hour, the Booking Agent showed up, drunk, and Ashley and Garrett recognized him as a fellow diner in the nshima restaurant where they'd gotten lunch. The man wasn't too happy about being called in, but he took us to the ticketing office, took our money and issued us tickets, nonetheless. Sigh, success.
But the ambitious journey wasn't over yet. We still had to get to Serenje and it was getting late in the afternoon. This is a concern because being on Zambian roads after dark is dangerous for all the potholes, drunk drivers and cars with no headlights.
So we got a move on and hired a taxi to take us to the Kapiri-Mposhi junction, where we'd hitchhike up to Serenje. We sat at the junction for an hour, watching the sun fall lower in the sky and the traffic thin. We were passed by huge diesel trucks, but most of them were either not able to pick us or asking far more than we could afford to go the moderate distance. Finally, a shiny, sleek, new extended cab Toyota Hilux stopped. Driving it was a smartly dressed married couple who lived and ran a farm in the Farm Block in Mkushi. Bless them, they moved all their luggage from the backseat into the covered bed of their truck, and they let us four cram our dirty selves into the back of their clean, comfy car.
The couple recognized us as Peace Corps Volunteers, as they are good friends with several of the Volunteers who serve in Mkushi District. We had a lovely chat and ride with them. They knew we were headed to Serenje, but they offered us a place to stay at their home in Mkushi if we weren't able to make it as far as Serenje. They also gave us great recommendations for our upcoming Christmas vacation in Zanzibar.
The couple dropped us off at the fueling station in Mkushi around 17:00. We only had to wait a few minutes before we were picked up by a huge diesel that would take us to Serenje. Diesel's are known to be dirty, crowded and slow. This one was no different. It took us over 2 hours to get to Serenje (usually an hour drive). About 10 minutes outside of Serenje, we were passed by a Peace Corps Landcruiser and we all laughed at the missed opportunity of getting a clean, safe and comfortable ride in it. Oh well. We made it safely nonetheless.
The Serenje Provincial House was welcoming, if dark due to the power outages they've been having. Power here is hydro power, which means the low rainfall in Central Province was causing low water levels and thus, low hydro power output. Despite this, we had a relaxing evening with our friends in Central Province and a restful night's sleep.
The next day, we were able to catch a Peace Corps Landcruiser that was headed to Mansa, transporting Lusaka staff who would join us for the week's Provincial Meetings and Thanksgiving celebration.
And that's our story of buying train tickets in Zambia.
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