The Ox Cart Part I

Around eight months ago our welders put together an ox cart. It’s a nice ox cart, sturdy and good looking with a solid frame and a pair of durable, second hand tires, capable of carrying a large amount of farm produce from point A to point B. There are a good number of serious farmers here in Zambia’s Southern Province, and while our welders usually stick to crafting door frames and window frames, we figured we could put this ox cart together, sell it off at a high price and make some good money without much of a problem.

We were wrong. We were very, very wrong.

After an eight month long, aggressive flier and word-of-mouth advertising campaign around the Siavonga area we were unable to locate a single serious buyer.

Finally, a few weeks ago, we decided to send Vincent, Namumu’s Senior Welder, and Kanyama, Namumu’s former Kapenta Fishing Rig Foreman and current Poultry Attendant, into the farming areas just outside Siavonga in an effort to, at long last, find a buyer for the burdensome ox cart. For three days they traveled by bicycle and moved all around, chatting with farmers and giving them their sales pitch.

Fortunately, they were able to locate two serious potential buyers in a nearby village. Most of these small scale Zambian farmers don’t do much dealing in cash, so the plan was to exchange the ox cart for two large cows, which would then be transported back to Siavonga and sold to the local butchery.

I went out to the village to lock down the deal, and, just as I suspected, the trip turned out to be an interesting experience, fraught with the typical African absurdities that I’ve come to expect on a daily basis.

I can’t say I was happy with the outcome. But, on the bright side, I learned a thing or two about Zambia and about business in the process, and I realized that in some ways I’ve definitely evolved during my time here.

On Tuesday morning I set off with Kanyama and Marvious, a local Siavonga driver with a big truck, to take care of the deal once and for all. Kanyama is originally from the area where we were heading, so he was to be the navigator. We loaded the ox cart into the truck bed and set off for the Lusitu area, a good 45 minute drive away.

Oh, what a team it was.

Kanyama is a goof ball. He’s in his early forties. He has a few wives. He has more than a few children (let me put it this way, if you gathered all his children up and put them on a soccer field you could form two full teams, both with coaches, and have enough left over for a referee and two lines judges…seriously). I’ve really grown to love Kanyama. Obviously, I can’t say I agree with or support all of the choices he’s made in his life, but he is not a bad man. He’s almost always happy and I think he treats other people pretty well. I’d call him a scallywag. A very likeable scallywag.

And Marvious is one of my favorite Zambian guys I’ve met, without a doubt. As close friends and family will tell you, I find an unreasonable amount of satisfaction in ranking things in numerical order, and of the hundreds of people I’ve met here in Africa I’d have to say that Marvious is in my top three. He’s a young guy, 25, and is still a bachelor. He loves driving a truck for a living and is always smiling, a very positive person.

He’s our usual go-to guy when it comes to transporting big items. He’s done every single supply run for our carpentry and welding workshop in the last year, charging us significantly less than all the other truck drivers in town. He knows we’re taking care of orphans and vulnerable children and it’s his way of helping out.

Best of all, he’s always buying me food and drinks on our excursions. As a white man in Africa, surrounded by people in the grips of poverty, I’m very often asked for money and food by friends and strangers alike, both in the big cities and in Siavonga. People ain’t shy about asking for things. So, it’s nice to receive small gifts for a change. Now, Marvious is not a wealthy guy. Far from it, actually. But he’s always sharing peanuts, fritters and drinks just because he’s a kind man who likes to share and make other people happy. And let’s face it, I’m pretty easy to win over. Get me an ice cold Coca-Cola and you’re my best friend for life.

So, back to the trip…the three of us set off from Namumu around 10 am, ready to take care of business. The aforementioned typical African absurdities started almost right away.

It was all pretty cut and dry. We’d drive out for 45 minutes to Lusitu, find the buyer, unload the ox cart, load up the cattle, and head back home. I had a few things I still wanted to do in the office that day and figured we could easily get back to Nammu by early afternoon.

I immediately stopped myself. Have you learned nothing in the past year, Sam? I berated myself. There are too many variables for something not to go wrong. Obviously something is going to come up. Things rarely, if ever, run like clockwork here. I readjusted my mental timetable and began planning under the assumption that we wouldn’t be back until much later.

So, I’m sitting there thinking these very thoughts. As I’m thinking them, and I mean right in the middle of this thought process, Marvious’ phone rings. His uncle had just passed away and he needed to get to the hospital to meet up with other family members. We hadn’t even made it 100 meters away from Namumu and already our plans had to be changed.

Marvious tells us that it’s ok, we shouldn’t cancel the trip. He just wanted to go to the hospital, visit with the family for a short while, and then we could start off. So, we headed into town and went to the hospital. About two hours later we set off for Lusitu. Again.

About twenty minutes outside of Siavonga we see a guy we know whose truck had broken down on the side of the road. So, while we needed to get out to do this deal, we couldn’t just leave him stranded. We pulled off and helped him fix the engine. Around an hour later the problem was solved and we set off again.

Now, back in the day, before becoming thoroughly Africanized I might have been frustrated at this point. After all, I had things to do back at Namumu that wouldn’t get done, because things kept popping up unexpectedly. But, you know what? When you are used to the absurdities and expect to run into them at all times it totally lightens the blow when they actually come. I couldn’t have been happier or more calm.

I just sat back and enjoyed the wind whipping through my hair and the light-hearted conversation with my guys. I had a lengthy chat with Kanyama, during which he explained, in detail, how he sweet talked his first wife into accepting the fact that he wanted to get another wife. I’m friends with a few polygamists, but I’ve never felt comfortable asking questions about their lifestyle. But, the mood was jovial and we had plenty of time on our hands, so I fired off a few questions and Kanyama was more than happy to answer them. I could probably write about ten blogs based on this one conversation, but I suppose I’ll just save those for later.

Finally, after turning off of the main road and driving some twenty minutes into the bush on a bumpy dirt path we arrived at the buyers’ village. And that’s where things got interesting…