Journey Across Southern Africa
The year was 1999. The US Department of Education was awarding fellowships to study African languages abroad, and I had the privilege of qualifying, having studied Swahili for two years in my MA program at UCLA. When I got the news that I had been selected, I jumped for joy! Then, I quickly started making plans for the rest of my summer. If the government was going to hand me a free plain ticket to East Africa, I might as well take advantage of the fact that I'm on the continent and travel around a bit.
Grace Community Church was sending a short term missions team to South Africa, and even though it was last minute, they graciously allowed me to sign up to join them. All I needed to do was meet up with them in a town outside of Johannesburg after finishing Swahili language school in Zanzibar, Tanzania.
I looked into plane tickets, but they were astronomical, so I decided I was just going to venture south by land. I committed my travel plans to the Lord, and asked Him to guide me. I've traveled solo in the past, and never ended up being alone for long, as other backpackers were always easy to find and tag along with. I assumed this trip would be no different. I was wrong.
I took the ferry over from the island of Zanzibar to the mainland, and jumped in a cab to the local train station. As soon as I arrived, I scanned the place and found a sea of locals and not a backpack in sight. Then, I spotted some Europeans by the ticket booth, but when I approached them, they gave me the cold shoulder, and I soon realized I was on my own.
That's when it dawned on me. Most nationals don't have time or money to waste gallivanting around Africa. They use the trains to get from their villages to the capital and back. That's it. So, I paid for my ticket, stepped into my sleeping compartment, and waited for my two cabin mates to say goodbye to relatives who were seeing them off.
As the train began its long journey and the three of us got settled in, we proceeded to introduce ourselves. Right away, the two Tanzanian ladies were taken aback to see a white lady speaking Swahili. "Where are you headed?" I asked them. "Johannesburg," they replied. "Nooooooooooooo waaaaaaay!!!!" I cried. What??? Trust me, the chances of that were slim to none. Turns out, one of them, a woman in her early forties, was married to a South African man and lived there with her family. The other, a much older lady, had a daughter who lived in Johannesburg, and was taking advantage of having a travel companion who knows the way to go see her daughter.
What an unexpected way for God to answer my prayer. Not only was I able to find my way down south with an experienced traveler, I also turned out to be a big help to her. Our elderly travel companion had recently suffered a stroke, so in addition to carrying my own luggage, I lent a hand with hers. We made a perfect match.
The next four days were pretty wild. They included:
Grace Community Church was sending a short term missions team to South Africa, and even though it was last minute, they graciously allowed me to sign up to join them. All I needed to do was meet up with them in a town outside of Johannesburg after finishing Swahili language school in Zanzibar, Tanzania.
I looked into plane tickets, but they were astronomical, so I decided I was just going to venture south by land. I committed my travel plans to the Lord, and asked Him to guide me. I've traveled solo in the past, and never ended up being alone for long, as other backpackers were always easy to find and tag along with. I assumed this trip would be no different. I was wrong.
I took the ferry over from the island of Zanzibar to the mainland, and jumped in a cab to the local train station. As soon as I arrived, I scanned the place and found a sea of locals and not a backpack in sight. Then, I spotted some Europeans by the ticket booth, but when I approached them, they gave me the cold shoulder, and I soon realized I was on my own.
That's when it dawned on me. Most nationals don't have time or money to waste gallivanting around Africa. They use the trains to get from their villages to the capital and back. That's it. So, I paid for my ticket, stepped into my sleeping compartment, and waited for my two cabin mates to say goodbye to relatives who were seeing them off.
As the train began its long journey and the three of us got settled in, we proceeded to introduce ourselves. Right away, the two Tanzanian ladies were taken aback to see a white lady speaking Swahili. "Where are you headed?" I asked them. "Johannesburg," they replied. "Nooooooooooooo waaaaaaay!!!!" I cried. What??? Trust me, the chances of that were slim to none. Turns out, one of them, a woman in her early forties, was married to a South African man and lived there with her family. The other, a much older lady, had a daughter who lived in Johannesburg, and was taking advantage of having a travel companion who knows the way to go see her daughter.
What an unexpected way for God to answer my prayer. Not only was I able to find my way down south with an experienced traveler, I also turned out to be a big help to her. Our elderly travel companion had recently suffered a stroke, so in addition to carrying my own luggage, I lent a hand with hers. We made a perfect match.
The next four days were pretty wild. They included:
- Two days and one night on a train from Dar-es-Salaam, Tanzania to Kapiri Mposhi, Zambia.
- A minivan from Kapiri Mposhi to Lusaka (Zambia's capital city).
- An overnight bus from Lusaka, Zambia to Harare, Zimbabwe.
- Another bus from Harare to Beitbridge, South Africa.
- A ride with a stranger (I don't endorse this behaviour!) from Beitbridge to a town a couple hours from Johannesburg.
- An overnight stay at a hotel on the side of the road to avoid further travel with said stranger, who turned out to be very strange indeed!
- A final bus ride to Petersburg, South Africa (present day Polokwane), where I bid farewell to my travel companions and met up with a team hosted by Grace Church missionaries Tim and Michelle Cantrell.
The journey back to Dar-es-Salaam for my flight home was a bit more relaxed, and it included white water rafting on the Zambezi River (which is said to be the best white water rafting in the world), a tour of Victoria Falls (the Niagara Falls of Africa), and the company of European backpackers far friendlier than the ones I met on the first leg of my trip. All in all, I saw the Lord's faithfulness guiding me each step of the way, and I had a blast discovering a region of Africa I'd never seen before. God is awesome!
If some consider John Calvin the best theological mind since Paul. I consider you the most traveled missionary since Paul!
ReplyDeleteyou win the "craziest missions trip EVER" award, hands down. i haven't heard a story to beat yours. :)
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