Please note: Africa is a continent with approximately 41 independent and distinct countries. Each country has developed governments that, inexplicably, are obsessed with paper - paper for everything. Because of this bureaucratic fervor, it can, at times, be difficult to travel between countries.
So, we met at the Mulenga household early Thursday morning, excitedly awaiting our little excursion into South Africa. Shula had an exam in Nelspruit that day, and it turns out that the other kids also had things to take care of there in preparation for the start of their new semester (all of the Mulenga children attend school in South Africa) – so it was a family affair, and we were totally tagging along. In fact, Kruger National Park has an entrance at Nelspruit, and we were dying to see some wild animals…
After lots of herding, the family of 5 (plus 2 white hitch-hikers) piled into the extended cab pick-up truck (don’t worry, the two that were riding in the “way back” had converted the covered truck bed into a rather comfy lounge, complete with mattress and lots of pillows!) and set on our way. We quickly emerged from the bustling streets of Maputo into a rather vast expanse of rural Africa. As opposed to the sort of “crusty” dry green I remember of Ghana, this landscape was more lush, with acres of tall wild grass frequently interrupted with farms of sugar cane, corn, and tea. Taking in the view, we hardly noticed that 2 hours had passed and we had reached the border…and then the fun began.
As the truck approached the uniformed official, Mumba noticed from his perch in the “way back” the impending arrival of 3 Greyhound-caliber tour buses just behind us. Without a second thought, he emerged like a big cat from his lair and quickly disappeared into the building, (which we ignorant white people eventually realized was in order to secure us a place in line before all the tourists).
So, we were blessed by the vehicle official, parked the truck, and then assumed our place in line with Mumba (just ahead of the tourists!) Even so, the line was not short, but we eventually made it to the front, filled out our forms, got some stamps, got back in the truck, and then came to the South African building. More waiting in line, more forms, more stamps, back in the truck. Wait! Everyone out to step on the magical rug which is wet with magical fluid that will keep you from bringing Mad Cow disease into South Africa. Back in the truck. Blessing by the vehicle official on the South Africa side. Ahhhh, finally, we are on our way. Mind you, “back in the truck” was not an effortless process. Imagine one of those old silent movies where everyone is moving around really fast…that is how this scene plays out in our minds when we relive it.
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