The final in our series of Zambia videos in which Ben and I push ourselves to limits of our endurance — and beyond. The series ends rather abruptly at “The Boiling Pot”, a gargantuan malestrom below the bridge to Zimbabwe, where, sadly, a local porter appropriated our camera and lost his balance as he was shooting, and was sucked into the whirlpool, which, according to local lore, drags its victims to the Center of the Earth.
I finally managed to chop the zambia video into digestible chunks. I will be alternating these with the more conventional pieces so we don’t lose the threads of the other themes, the Middle East, Microfinance, Don Quixote, etc. Some of the camera work is rough, as my wing man, Ben was still working out the technology, but we’ll have it cleaned up in time for Cannes.
This post begins a series chronicling my trip to Zambia, accompanied by my brother, Ben, who served as my camera man and raconteur. In this episode, I buy a dress for my granddaughter, Lucy, from a FINCA Zambia client to celebrate her first birthday. The dress is from China. I try, unsuccessfully, to persuade our client, Mavis, to source her inventory instead from the US to help our struggling economy.
Well now I’m blogged, tweeted, facebooked and youtubed — what’s next? Bring it on!
On second thought, please don’t, not yet, read my lips: NO NEW APPS! Let me digest these, first.
After five weeks on the road, I’m back at the res in Bethesda, catching up on work, bills, repairs, and, of course, Don Quijote. In a neat twist, I discovered that I was just pages from the end of the “Primera Parte”
(a mere 660 pages), where our protagonist returns home to La Mancha from his first series of adventures. DJ is carried into his house amidst the lamentations of his wife and maid, stripped naked and tossed into bed where he is presently recovering and gathering strength for his next “salida”. The priest and the canonist, thankfully, have gone their merry ways.
I have more clips from Zambia which will appear in this space in days to come, including a shameless promotion for the “Handbook” , plus observations on Libya and the rest of the Middle East (quick take: O, stop trying to be the anti-Bush. And don’t worry about Security Council members who want to preserve their right to garrot journalists and crush their citizens beneath tanks)
Meanwhile, here is a clip of one of our clients, Evelyn, plying her trade in the main market in Lusaka:
As feared, Despots-R-Us (Bahrain, Saudi, Yemen) are taking heart from Khadaffi’s I’m-the-President-I-can-kill-whom-I-please response to the uprising and are turning their guns on their own people. I remember when one of my union buddies, who had been assigned to Chile during the Pinochet era was at a party with a plethora of generals and colonels, all sprouting medals and ribbons on their chests and, listening to them bad mouthing the unions, responded: “So, did you get those all those medals for killing your own people?”
Had a possibly historic meeting of the microfinance CEOs this weekend, but am under a gag order until we meet again, a month from now. But it was progress.
Got to catch a flight! Next stop: Zambia.