Once upon a time, that is to say over 37 years ago, I travelled to Africa, my first trip to that continent, which took me first to Kenya and then to Zambia. At that time, of course there were no intelligent telephones, even dumb ones were not portable, and if you wanted to take photos, it was necessary to have a camera and if you wanted to film, you needed at least a Super-8 movie camera. When I took this trip I decided that since I was going to see animals in the move, I needed a movie camera. I enjoyed filming the lions, the giraffes, the zebras and the like in the move, it was incredible to see animals without barriers, or more exactly, it was I that was inside the barriers cum vans, and the animals were free!
After the safari, my program took me to Zambia, first Lusaka the capital city which I did not enjoy much as I had a horrible back pain and could hardly move but after resting for about three days, I was able to take the plane and fly to Victoria Falls on the Zambian side, just overlooking the Zambezi river. I got there, checked in and was planning my trip and checking my equipment, when I realized that the batteries of my movie camera were low, and the camera was indispensible for next day. So down to reception and asked if they had batteries in the little shop at the hotel. They did not, and recommended me to go to the closest town, a few kilometres away. Can you call me a taxi please? Well, there are no taxis, you must find your own way or hope another passenger arrives and you can take his/her taxi. Lucky for me there was a gentleman that worked in the area, had a car, was going to the town and offered me a ride. I accepted happily and there we went. I remember he worked in pest control and needed some product, so we went to the main shop in town and after he got his product, we asked for batteries. The look of the salesman was like “do you really mean batteries? What is that?” He informed us that they did not carry batteries. I did not need very sophisticated ones; the AA batteries that can or could/should be found everywhere would suffice. He directed us to another shop, and there also the looks were like if I was asking for a piece of the moon – and I believe at the time, man had not even landed on the moon, let alone leave a piece for me in Zambia. Then the obvious question was “where can I get batteries?” and the not very obvious answer was “go to Zimbabwe, to Livingston”.
I had to return to the falls, cross into another country for which of course I did not have a visa, walk about 2 or 3 km, into the next town and hope and pray they did carry the blessed AA batteries!
So be it, back in the hotel I took my passport and my movie camera with low batteries, put on my best smile and walked to the border crossing, which was a bridge over the roaring Victoria Falls I so much wanted to see. On the Zambian side of the border I had to explain the whole story of the low camera batteries, that I needed to go into the neighbouring country to see if they carry them, and of course then return to Zambia. Minor point of consideration, my visa was a one entry only visa. And I did not have a visa for Zimbabwe. Operation Charm full blown and the customs officials were so amused about the reason a poor little Mexican young woman (at the time I was rather young!) needed to cross the border. The explanation was so incredible it had to be true so they told me that if I returned the same day, before the closing of the border – of course luck may have it, it was not a 24/7 border but a 7-19 mainly for Zambian workers going to work in Zimbabwe, they would turn a blind eye or two and let me through. So they did not even stamp my passport and after that I had to find transport to the other side of the rather long bridge over the falls. As luck has it, there was a trucker that was travelling in the same direction and offered me a ride, accepted with thanks of course and thus I travelled on a big truck over the roaring falls, to the Zimbabwean side. Once at the border he did his paperwork in no time flat and I of course had to repeat the story of the batteries, and the officials asked where was my big Sombrero – being Mexican and all, and the bottle of tequila. I guess at the time none of them had ever seen a Mexican, let alone a Mexican woman alone, and even less a Mexican passport, so questioning about the sombrero and the tequila probably was their way to verify my identity.
Finally I was allowed in and had to walk about two kilometres to Livingston, the town on the Zimbabwean side of the falls. Once there, the first newsagent I found had plenty of batteries, so I bought as many as I could afford to make sure I would be able to film the falls to my heart content. Later on I was told I had been very lucky because the road I had used was under the control of armed guerrillas that used it for target practice with the locals. Fortunately my skin colour although darker than usual after the two weeks safari, was still light enough not to be taken for a local. My bag full of batteries, I had an ice cream and started on my way back, to make sure I got to the border before it closed. The hilarity of the guards on both sides was great and even more so when I showed them the batteries and asked for permission to return the following day to cross again and go into the Zimbabwean side to film. I had been told that was the best side of the falls. Everyone agreed, and I returned to my hotel, had dinner and got ready for the following day when I had to start early, considering the time consuming process of crossing two borders, paperwork and no tequila to open doors!
By seven in the morning, opening time of the border, there was already a long queue of workers waiting to cross, so I joined the line and when I arrived all the guards recognized and greeted me like an old friend and went through like an old hand in the area. After a while there was a board that indicated that was the way to the falls, so in I go into a very dense forest, followed the path and all of a sudden there I was, in a clearing just in front of this fascinating and frightening mass of water roaring and spitting water many meters around. What a view and what a sound! Shouting was useless such was the volume of the water so mouth closed ears fully open and brain like a sponge absorbing the spectacle! I approached as much as I dared the edge of the falls, there was no sign of “BEWARE, YOU CAN FALL AND IF YOU DO NOT EVEN YOUR SPIRIT WILL REMAIN” or the like, but uncommon sense made me walk backwards and then I saw a path that went upriver along the edge. Having done few meters I did see a sign that said “BEWARE – ELEPHANTS HAVE RIGHT OF WAY” and I hoped they could read and be aware they had priority, no need to trample down anyone crossing their path. Fortunately I did not see any but I decided maybe it was time to return to the clearing where I had been enjoying the falls, have a cigarette – yes I smoked at the time, and then return to Zambia.
I returned to the clearing but then I was not alone, there was a huge family of baboons of all ages, the young ones acting as the guards and protectors of the whole family, mothers with their babies, old and young but many many of them, and they looked at me like – “what the … are you doing in our living room?” I did not have an answer to that except “sorry, intruding but I was on my way out” and turned around and left them to their daily occupations. Safely returned to Zambia, to my hotel and eventually to my country with all kinds of memories of sombreros, tequila, falls, baboons, invisible elephants, the roaring sound, and of course batteries!!!
Mementos of my life 