If you have to abandon your truck in the bush make sure to take your toothbrush

So on Sunday it was our job to take the newest intake of volunteers, who had just arrived in the country 48 hours before, on site visit. So we left Lusaka at 7am. After 5 1/2 hours of driving on a nice paved road we turned of on to a dirt path. It had been raining for two days straight and the road was a bit soggy to say the least.

About three kilometers down the dirt path we got stuck. No problem we had a wench so we just pulled ourselves out. About 100 yards down the road guess what, yep stuck again. Once again we hooked the wench to a tree and started to pull ourselves out. Well this time it did not work so well. After two uprooted trees and a broken wench we knew we were in trouble. No problem we thought we will just call the Peace Corps in Serenje and they can come and pull us out (we where only about 1 1/2 hours from the central house in Serenje.) But after talking to the volunteers whose site we were at we discovered we were 41 kilometers from the nearest cell phone coverage. Okay once again no problem we will just use the radio that is in the truck, but then we remembered that the Luapula truck does not have a radio. Okay again no problem we will use the satellite phone that we have in the truck. Nope dead! Now we knew we were in trouble. Now our only option to get word out to the rest of Peace Corps that we needed help was for Andy to cycle 41 kilometers (24.6 miles) in the rain, in flip-flops and kakis, and on a bike that was too small for him and had only gears of 4 and 7. So off Andy went. He cycled for two hours in the pouring rain. As soon as he reached coverage he sent a message to the PCVL of Central Province. "Cruiser stuck, wench broken, phone almost dead. Please send help fast fast!." She immediately called back and said she was on her way.

About four hours after Andy left us in the village he returned. The only problem was that the truck that came to rescue us was a truck that usually lived in Lusaka. Therefore it did not have a radio or a wench. Andy, Kristina (the PCVL of Central), and I all said we should just leave the truck and return the next day when we had the proper equipment, but the drivers wanted to try and get the truck out. Seeing that we had already been stuck twice that day on the road that we had to use to leave the village we thought it was best to leave before dark. After about 3 hours of trying to get the truck out with no success we demanded that it was time to go, but by this time it was pitch black outside. After loading the truck up and heading out we made it about 100 yards down the road and guess what? We got stuck!! That is right once again no phone, no radio, pretty much no way to contact the out side world and once again call for help. After about thirty minutes of trying to get the second truck out Andy, Krisitina and I decided it was futile. We were all exhausted and it was totally dark. So we decided the best thing for us to do was to go for help. Since it was dark it was not safe to take a bike we walked. We walked 3 kilometers (1.8 miles) through a strange village, in the dark, and barefoot. We were barefoot because we had all been trying to push the truck out of the mud in our flip-flops. Wet dirty feet in cheap rubber flip-flops means only one thing. Blisters!!

As soon as we reached the road we could hear the drunks. Great we thought, the last thing we wanted to do was deal with a drunk Zambian. So we decided the best thing we could do was to walk as fast as we could straight at him and hope he was drunk enough not to notice us. And if all else failed Andy could just knock him out, because no one would believe him in the morning when he told them what had happened. We did not think our strategy would work, I mean three white people walking down the road in the middle of no where Zambia is hard to miss. But much to our surprise he walked right by us with out saying a word to us, he was talking to someone, but we were pretty sure that person was in his head.

After walking down the road for about ten minutes we saw headlights coming in the distance. We where so relived. Now all we had to do is to get them to stop. It took about ten minutes from the time we spotted the head lights for the car to reach us. Thankfully the truck pulled over to see what it was that we needed. The driver seemed hesitant to let us ride, but as soon as he discovered that we were willing to pay he let us all climb in. Andy sat up front with the driver and Kristina and I climbed in back. The driver of the truck greatly underestimated the predicament we were in. He only charged us 20,000 Kwacha (about $4) each; we would have been willing to pay five times that amount. We just needed to get to Serenje so could return the next day with another truck. The truck thankfully had a tarp coving the back because soon after we got in it started to rain. The only bad thing about riding in a truck bed covered by a tarp is that it traps all the exhaust fumes. A few kilometers down the road we stopped. The only reason that I can figure out for the stop was so the driver could tell all his friends to come and look at the Muzungus in the back of his truck. I felt a lot like a monkey in a zoo must feel. Except no one through food at us, which I would not have minded, the only thing I had eaten all day was a hard-boiled egg and a chocolate bar I bought in Lusaka to take back to Mansa as a special treat. Soon enough we got moving, only to make another stop. This time it was to pick up another hitchhiker. No big deal we thought until he through a giant bag of kapinta (little dried fish that so many people in Zambia love to eat) into the back of the truck. I think the smell of kapinta has to be the worst smell in the world and I was quite glad that the diesel fumes were over powering the rotten fish smell.

After about two hours in the back of the truck they dropped us off. We walked for about one kilometer before another car stopped to pick us up and took us all the way to the Peace Corps house in Serenje. We arrived at the house just before midnight. After discovering we had left all of our toiletries in the truck we collapsed into bed, I was tired enough not to care that I had not brushed my teeth. The next morning we woke up and waited for another Peace Corps truck to arrive (it did not arrive until about 10:30 due to the fact it had been stuck in a near by town due to heavy rains.) This one had a radio and a functioning wench. We stopped at the gas station to fill up and pick up some food for the drivers who had stayed the night with the trucks before getting on our way. As we were just about to head out both stuck trucks pulled up beside us. The drivers had literally dug the trucks out. I have no idea how they managed it. But you will never meet someone with as much ingenuity as a Zambian. Our truck definitely has some damage, a few new dents and a little bit of a wiggle as we went down the road, but we made it back to Mansa safe and sound.

I have learned a few of things from this experience. Never go into the bush with only flip-flops. Always have a contingency plan. And if you have to abandon your truck in the bush make sure to take your toothbrush. I also learned that all the things that I carry around in my purse thinking I might need someday like a flashlight, a knife, toilet paper, and chocolate actually do come in handy in a tough situation.