i apologise.
it has been blimmin ages since i have made an addition to this blog. a whole month. i have started writing entries more than once, and then been called away and lost my flow, and never quite got back into it, but we haven't been too busy at the lodge so i don't really have a good excuse for not logging in and filling everyone in on the developments sooner. i could say that i've been spending most of my spare minutes sketching, which would be true.... but would make me sound like a bit of a wanker.
probably closer to the truth is that i've been working through a lot of conflicting emotions, and didn't really know where i was at myself, so didn't want to commit anything into writing until i had sorted out my head.
as i said in my last blog, we had been offered a job to come back and work a further season here in the Luangwa Valley, managing one of the lodge's bushcamps. as i left it, we were deliberating whether to accept.
the short of it, is that we have accepted the offer, and are currently in the process of working out our new plans for 2011.
the long of it is a little more convoluted.
the initial reaction that overcame both myself and the husband was that of being immensely flattered. we know that the company hasn't employed a couple in their bushcamps, (given the exception of one very long-standing guide and his partner who have been in the Valley since the sixties i believe, and running their camp together for almost as long.) for a number of years. the company policy is not to pay massive wages, but to cover the flights in and out of Zambia, as the managers are usually South African, American or British. so to fly a couple instead of a single doubles their budget before the season even starts. we are also aware that there are many people out here who would kill for the opportunity of running a bushcamp, and to be offered the job of essentially running their flagship and busiest bushcamp was a testament to how highly they thought of us. and so following the flattered and inflated egos, we swiftly also found ourselves feeling pretty smug.
working through the first stage of my reasoning, i was flattered to be asked, and realised that lots of people would happily chew off their right arm for the opportunity (or more appropriately out here, offer up their right arm to be chewed off by a lion), and so we couldn't really say no. could we?
moving swiftly on to the second stage of my reasoning, i hit the 'why not' school of thought. we love it here, we have nothing to go back to in the UK- of course there are friends and family, who mean the world to us, but the most material and basic of things, such as jobs, and a house, and a car, and even a home town are still all up in the air and yet to be sorted out. by all recent accounts the U.K. is a pretty miserable place to be at the moment- the weather is crap, unemployment is on the up, state support is on the wane and there is a generally dour and depressed feeling pervading the country. why not stay here in Zambia longer, in a place where the sun shines, surrounded by people on safari having their holiday of a lifetime? why would we try and start up our new lives in the U.K. at a time when it is struggling so much?
but, i am a cautious individual, and philosopher both by degree and by nature, always prone to looking at every side of things, from every angle and considering every possible view. it is both a positive quality of mine, and a curse. as a consequence i can empathise with almost anyone, i can see where they are coming from, and i can understand their reasoning and thinking. it makes me quite sensitive to people's feelings and emotions i think, and probably a more open-minded and 'better' individual. but this tendency towards over-analysing also means that i find it difficult to listen to my gut instinct, damn hard to make a decision on anything, and will find on occasion, often without realising it, that i am contradicting myself. i can be swayed one way by an argument, and seconds later find myself on the opposing side, nodding along in agreement.
(don't even ask me about my political views- i veer perilously between left and right wing on a number of issues!)
so, when i said to myself 'why not stay here in Zambia?', in the next second i was asking 'but why not go home?'. it is obviously going to be a difficult transition whenever we go back, and we won't be able to get started on finding that job, that home, etc until we are actually back there. why hold off on this new life that we've been planning, just because it might be a bit tricky at first?
and on reflection, just as being flattered that someone fancies you is not a good reason to kiss that someone (a lesson i learned slowly but surely through my university years), being flattered by the offer is not a good reason to take a job in a foreign country. you need to really fancy it yourself to make it worthwhile; just because it is desirable to someone else, and because it panders to your ego, is not enough on its own, and can not make it your dream. (and this goes for a dream job or a dream kiss!)
so the next thing i asked myself was not 'why not?', 'what have you got to lose?' or 'how could you turn down an offer like this?'.
it was, instead, 'do you really, really want to do this?'.
and, if i was being entirely honest with myself, i did have a couple of qualms.
my first objection came in the form of the music festival that the husband and i are involved in running. it is just going in to its fifth year, it is finally getting off the ground, and has turned into a fairly major event. it falls in the middle of july, which of course is only a month and a half after we would have started the season. the husband has to return for it, he is one of the main organisers, and the event manager, and the weekend wouldn't really run without him. the bosses here knew that when they offered us the job, but there had been a suggestion that i could stay on and hold the fort at the bushcamp while he jetted back to the UK, and did the festival.
i really wanted to be able to be the noble martyr, and sacrifice myself and my attendance at the festival for the greater good of us having an amazing season managing the bushcamp. but i'm not very good at playing the martyr, i'm not very good at missing out on things, and the thought of not being at the festival in July, not being there for the amazing highs (and sometimes lows) of this weekend that we organise was really tearing me apart inside. i tried really hard to be the bigger person, but the festival has become a massive part of our lives the past few years, being involved in its organisation is one of my proudest achievements, and just imagining not being there whilst our biggest and hopefully most triumphant year was playing out was enough to bring me to tears.
and my second objection, revolved around the question of whether we were up to it. i've had a lovely few months out here, undoubtedly, but coming back for 5 months is a whole different situation, and we wouldn't be in the lodge but rather out in the middle of the bush. and when i say 'middle of the bush', that is only too true.
the bushcamp we were slated to manage is about 2 hours drive from the lodge in good weather, and they have very limited electricity. we would have a light bulb in our tent, and there are some solar powered charger stations in the camp so we can recharge our laptops, but that is it. no fans, no plug sockets and the water comes from a tanker and is warmed by the sun. although, for guests the camp is a luxurious haven they can melt away to for a few days, cut off from the stresses and strains of the real world, for the person who has to live in that camp for 5 months, organise it, manage it and keep it running smoothly, the charm of gas fuelled lanterns and the logistical issues of having no internet and limited mobile reception, may soon become more of a pain than a novelty. and there is a whole level of responsibility that we've only really touched on here at the lodge; in the camp, though we would have far fewer guests to look after, we would be in charge of the whole operation, from catering and housekeeping all the way through to making sure the water tanker is always full and pulling any stray snakes out of a guest's room. if anything goes wrong out there it is up to us to fix it. the only people we can defer to are on the end of a radio, and several hours drive away, so it really does mean that we will have to take the bull by the horns and deal with a whole host of issues on our own, using our initiative and 'bush wits'. the prospect of the job on the table in front of us was most definitely exciting, but i think we'd be pretty naive if we didn't also find it bloody daunting.
we came to the conclusion that we couldn't make a final decision about the job offer until we had actually seen the camp. even though it was already closed down and shut up until next season, i figured when we saw it that i would know for sure, and the decision would be an easy one.
however, getting out to the camps in January is not a particularly straightforward operation- the green season was upon us, and the rains had destroyed and damaged many of the roads up around the camp area, making the trail up to the bushcamp impassable by car. the camps are never left totally abandoned even when they are shut up for the season- there is always a group of workers up in each camp guarding them from any opportunistic thieves, who stay up there for a month, and then swap out. the guards were due a swapover in the second week of January, so it was decided that we would drive up as far as we could go and then walk in the remaining distance with them, and take the opportunity to have a look around.
it was a glorious day when we set off, and though we were driving at speed to get to up to the camps the sun was still bright and warming and did a lot to combat the breeze. about half way there we stumbled across a wild dog, sleeping at the side of the road, which was an unexpected thrill- these creatures may look very similar to your average heinz 57 domestic dog, but they are very rare and a sighting of one is right at the top of most seasoned safari-goers tick list. the mood was pretty jubilant, the guys in the back of the car were in a good mood ready for their month of guarding, and the husband and i were excited to see the place that could possibly be our home for a large part of the year. by the time the roads ran out and we stopped the car it was approaching midday, so not the ideal time for a trek, but nonetheless we stepped out into the bush, all walking in single file behind our hired scout (as is the way with bush walking), all of us helping out with the provisions and luggage for the month ahead. some of the guys had huge sacks of mealie-meal they were carrying on their head- as the only girl I lucked out and was just carrying a plastic carrier bag containing someone's boots. we marched at an impressive speed for 30 minutes, jumping over puddles and doing our best to navigate huge potholes in the mud created by elephant and hippo feet. as the humidity climbed we seemed to speed up, and then just as i realised my top was totally saturated with sweat and i was starting to feel a little weak, out of nowhere it seemed i suddenly caught sight of the tips of several massive tents,rising majestically over the treetops, gleaming white canvas against the green of the rainy season foliage. i had a sneaking feeling of deja-vu, and realised it was because arriving at the camp was somehow, strangely akin to my experience of arriving at Glastonbury Music Festival last summer. there i had also been walking in the heat of the middle of the day for what seemed like forever, sweating profusely, and trying to avoid stray patches of sticky mud that threatened to twist an ankle- and that first glimpse of the tip of a marquee poking out over the horizon was just as welcome then as it was this time.
we swiftly headed up to the deck, without doubt the focal point of the camp, and appraised ourselves of the view and the cooling breeze coming off the lazy blue lagoon in front of it. the deck was empty and barren save for one dining chair, but nonetheless the view was so beautiful that we were just spellbound. we had a quick tour of the guest tents, which were also shut down, but you could see their potential and how stunning they could be once they were set up. we were then led round to the staff area, which left a little more to be desired and a lot more of a challenge to the imagination.
it was a small fenced off area, with 4 army style square canvas tents scattered around it and one shared outside bathroom area, with a flimsy grass fence that afforded precious little privacy. there were some chunks of broken concrete in a corner, and a couple of battered plastic crates with a cushion on it making a bench. the tent itself was sizeable, for a weekend's camping it would be palatial, but as a home for an extended period, for two people it was severely lacking. and given how hot it gets in the middle of the day here, retreating to it wouldn't even be an option, and there was no other private space to be found- the dusty area between the 4 tents was to be shared between the camp managers, the resident guide and any other transfer guides who are passing through. i kept my mouth shut, and looked around, desperately trying to imagine myself there for an extended period.
now, i'm not exactly your typical high maintenance girl. i go to festivals, and i camp, and i can live out of a backpack. i'm happy when i'm out in the wild, and i've been known to go 5 days without a shower (that, coincidentally was also Glastonbury last year, not just because i'm a skank). but i am also a girl approaching 30, and i can't kid myself, i do require a few creature comforts and a bit of privacy. and i just couldn't get my head into a place where the living arrangements at the camp were not going to be a problem for me. we went back out on to the deck to prepare ourselves for the march back out, and the husband's face cracked into a beautific smile. and i realised that he was already sold- in his head he was already here.
we didn't really talk on the walk back- the single file nature of the bush-walk meant that it would have been difficult anyway- but the sky slowly clouded over and we heard distant grumblings of thunder. just as we reached the vehicle there was an almighty rushing sound, we felt a sudden chilling breeze, the skies turned black and the heavens opened. we hurried into the back of the vehicle, hastily pulled on raincoats and started on our journey back. the noise of the car engine kept chatter to a minimum, and we were hunkered down in waterproof jackets anyway, so i'm not sure if the husband sensed my mood, and he may have attributed it to weariness from the walk in the searing heat if he had, but i was starting to feel a rising sense of panic and nausea and i didn't know what to do.
this job offer was undoubtedly for the husband, the offer of a lifetime. i'd seen it in his eyes the second we hit the deck of the camp. since the chat we had with the big boss the husband had already started picking up books from the lodge library and started muttering to himself about training to be a guide, but when we got to the bushcamp i could see that he felt like he was in paradise. the basic and relatively (dare i say it?) squalid accommodation in the staff block had barely registered with him, and it certainly wasn't a problem. he was in his element, and for him the questions over whether we would take the job were instantly answered. how could i turn around to the man i loved, who was watching all of his wildest dreams come true and his life finally slot in to place, and tell him that his wife didn't fancy taking the job that promised to fulfil him because she wanted her own shower?
but, if this little adventure has taught me anything, it is that honesty and communication are utterly vital to the success of any relationship, especially one that is intensified by the pressures of a trip such as ours. the husband and i have spent every day since the 2nd of October together, in each other's company. we have barely been apart for an hour, let alone a day and for long periods we have been each other's only company. we have both had the occasional strop, the occasional bad day, and the occasional difference of opinion. but we have remained remarkably argument free considering that i would probably have killed almost anyone else in such conditions. and i think we have avoided those arguments by being considerate, and honest with each other, and talking through things. if i've snapped at the husband i have made a conscious effort to explain myself, and apologise after, and vice versa, and almost all the time it has only been over a trivial little thing that, once out in the open, seems ridiculous.
one of our biggest set-tos on the trip that i remember was in new zealand, at a smart restaurant- i fancied a pudding, and the husband didn't. he told me i could have one if i wanted, but did i really need it? i said i didnt need it, but i wanted it. he said then fine, i should order it. but i started questioning whether he thought i was being extravagant, spending too much when we were only just starting out on our trip and had to budget carefully. or was he bored of my company and wanted to end the meal so he could get back to the hotel? or did he think i was getting fat? we both stropped at the table, and eventually i ordered the creme brulee. the waitress bought an extra spoon, we shared the desert, i talked through my insecurities and the perceived jibes i had seen in his comments, which had been entirely innocent, and the whole difference of opinion was over in 20 minutes.
but this time, it was more than a difference of opinion over whether to order desert. this was a difference of opinion as to how we were going to spend the next year of our lives. broaching it was one of the hardest conversations i've had with the husband since before we had started the trip, but i felt that i couldn't just smile and nod and agree to take the job running the camp without being honest with him about my reservations.
we had it out once we were back at the lodge, and through tumbling tears i said that i realised for him how important it was to grasp this opportunity with both hands but i was worried about the staff digs, the lack of privacy, the lack of a separate bathroom, and also about missing the festival. i didn't want to rule out taking the job, and i was willing to agree to do it as things were for him, because i recognised how much it meant to him. however i had to be honest with him from the start and i didn't think that i could comfortably live for 5 months with the proposed set-up. in an ideal world i wanted some changes made to the staff block and i also wanted to get a guarantee that i could fly back to the UK for the festival in July, and if it was up to me and me alone then i wouldn't take the job without those things.
it felt like a lot to ask, but thankfully the husband saw how important these two conditions were to me, and as much as i wanted to make him happy by taking the job, he also wanted me to be happy with the decision, so we agreed that we would only accept the job if these two conditions were acceptable to the management. we felt united, like we were on the same page, and actually all the stronger for coming to a joint decision.
we spoke to the coordinator of the bushcamps, and expressed my concerns, and were overwhelmed to discover that they weren't surprised by our demands. they had been thinking about putting an extra bathroom in, and totally recognised that the living area for the staff was pretty primitive. they openly admitted it was a 'boys camp', run by boys, and lived in by boys for the past few years, and they required less sophistication in their living accommodation than a girl. of course i would want my own bathroom, and of course i would want some private space to relax, and within minutes we were sketching out plans to fence off a little area behind the tent, working out where we could put our 'en suite' and making plans to make a cosy little garden hideaway for us. the dates we would need off for the festival raised an eyebrow, but the husband and i were united on this one, and said that it was non-negotiable, and it was soon agreed that we could work around us both being away.
and so, after much soul-searching and internal tussles on my part, we finally shook hands with the big boss and accepted the job. and if i ask myself now, that same question 'do i really, really want to do this?' i can answer with confidence.
yes, i do. i want to do it.
and not because i'm flattered to be asked, and not because half of my friends are really jealous and think it sounds like a right laugh, and not because there isn't anything better on offer at the moment.
i do partly want to do it because the husband wants it so much, and i know how happy it will make him to be out here in the Zambian bush for an extended period of time.
but i also want to do it for myself. i love it here too, i have a passion for the wildlife and the countryside. i love the job of hosting, and i am daunted but damn excited about the challenges of running a camp in the middle of the bush. i'm also, now the alterations have been approved, just as excited about my little tent, and my little garden, and making our own private little haven in the middle of the haven that is the bushcamp.
though i won't be missing out on the festival, i will be missing out on some other things that i had planned for this year- i was ready to settle down in Dorset, and find a nice little job, and a nice little house. i wanted to get a cat, and i wanted to have a big 30th birthday surrounded by my friends, and i wanted to have a family Christmas in our new home by the sea. but i won't be missing out on them forever- these things will by necessity be put on hold, but it doesn't mean they won't happen at some point.
and, after looking at it from every angle, and considering every possibility, i realised that deep down in my gut i always knew- if we were to turn down this job offer we would be missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime.
and it is an opportunity of a lifetime that i get to live and breathe and share with the husband, which just makes it all the more special.
i don't have to make this my dream- it already is.
