Peeing in the Bush
Page 22
‘Forget him,’ Chan replied curtly. ‘We have a plane to catch. I think that’s more important than trying not to hurt somebody’s feelings, don’t you?’
I wrinkled my chin and nodded thoughtfully. We rode the rest of the way to the airport in silence. Chan’s mind was probably preoccupied with thoughts of Mummy even as mine was on how much I’d miss Zambia. I had anticipated a whole lot but I hadn’t anticipated becoming so attached to a country my dad had described as a ‘wretched, godforsaken place’. We had had the time of our lives, and surprisingly, ended up none the worse for wear. By sheer miracle we had given food poisoning, yellow fever, bilharzia, malaria, hypothermia, sleeping sickness, meningitis, fungal infections, intestinal tapeworms and drowning a miss. Best of all, we did not get eaten.
Even so, I was going home with something else: memories of Zambia that would continue to haunt me for the rest of my life and make me wish I had never left. At work, on the toilet, in my dreams and pretty much whenever my mind was idle, a nostalgic collage of the Southern Cross, lions brushing past our open vehicle, boisterous markets, walking safaris, fleeing from hippos on the Zambezi, Play-Doh nshima, gliding over phenomenal Victoria Falls, bush loos, booze cruises, mud villages and spending the night in Beat-Up Van would reduce me to a space cadet for months on end. All the beautiful, warm people who shared their intriguing and scary stories with us. All the adorable animals that could not wait to devour us. And all the fabulous salmon-pink sunsets that never failed to leave me gasping for air like an asthmatic. Like so many others before me who have had the opportunity to tread on African soil, I was experiencing major African hangover.
Our miniature odyssey had been way, way too short. It was as if I had an intense relationship with someone and it ended abruptly in the throes of passion. I cannot imagine how I would have felt if I had been there longer. On the drive home from Kuala Lumpur International Airport, I realized how accustomed I had been to the blackness and silence of nightfall in Zambia when the sight of flashy buildings, blinding streetlamps and brightly lit advertising signs whizzing past made me develop a headache. Or perhaps the headache was caused by excessive pondering, which is always bad for the brain. In any case, I was seeing things with a fresh pair of eyeballs and contemplating what Zambians might find weird about the comfortable Malaysian lifestyle. They may ask us: ‘Why do you still mill about food stalls at twelve midnight when you have already exceeded your daily sustenance? Why do you pay to wear deliberately stained and tattered clothes? Why do you need a car when you aren’t transporting any produce or domestic animals in it? Why do you throw out your expensive mobile phones and computers just because a more expensive one is out? And why do you keep feeling like you are missing something when you have basically everything?’
Without a doubt, the trip has made me stop and appreciate the mundane things in my life – I now gaze lovingly at the magical whirl of a toilet flush, softly caress my water heater button and if I could wrap my arms around my house, I would. I am also less judgemental, almost never complain and am tolerant to the point I began spending more time with people I’d previously found annoying. Of course, whenever the conversations veered towards such tedious topics as their third mobile phone purchase in six months, whether I would be interested in their Lampe Berger nose pots or if I could send them a silly fish on Facebook, I was ready to untie my shoelaces and hang myself. Hey, I am still working on it. The office environment, which I always thought of as mind-numbing, is now perceived as a creative challenge for me to make things interesting for myself. Being contented is really just a state of mind. And why shouldn’t I be? Half of Zambia would kill to be in my position.
As for my old pal, Chan? After she and I parted ways, we did not see each other for a couple of weeks. We needed that time to readjust back to life in KL, I guess. When we finally met up for a dinner of curry noodles, she conceded in retrospect that she was grateful I dragged her along.
‘Mind you, that doesn’t mean I will do it again. I’m never, ever, ever going camping again, you hear me?’ she said emphatically. ‘Peeing in the bush is not my idea of fun.’
I chuckled. ‘But has going to Zambia changed you in any way?’ I asked.
‘Of course it has!’ she replied as if I’d asked the stupidest question. ‘I walk wa-a-a-y slower than I did before.’
I laughed and shook my head. ‘Oh, Chan, you’re the cutest.’
A cheeky grin swept across her face as she fiddled with her chopsticks. ‘So where’s our next big adventure, Adeline?’
‘Oh, I thought you’d never ask!’ I exclaimed zealously. ‘I’ve been thinking about this utterly fascinating country ...’ I paused to fill the air with suspense.
‘Y-e-s?’
‘Let’s go to ... Armenia!’ I said and clapped my hands.
‘When you get excited like that, I get scared,’ she said. ‘You promise it’s not going to be dangerous?’
I tried to recall what I had gleaned from my travel guidebook – other than the risk of us getting torn up by brown bears, ripped apart by wolves, shot by snipers near disputed territories, sucked underground by earthquakes and blown to smithereens by one of the few thousand landmines yet to be discovered, there was not much else to worry about.
‘I promise,’ I answered, with fingers crossed behind my back and a gleam in my eye.
PRAISE FOR PEEING IN THE BUSH
‘Funny, outrageous, and amusingly scatological, Adeline Loh woos the reader with the down-and-dirty details of her African safari. A risk-taker and adventure-hound, she plunges in, risking life and dignity. Armchair travellers will probably never personally face down a wild elephant, but they’ll have a great time living Loh’s adventures through her wacky, creative analogies and her sometimes questionable decisions.’ RITA GOLDEN GELMAN, author of Tales of a Female Nomad
‘Peeing in the Bush is an entertaining account of a foreign road trip gone ever-so-slightly wrong. After recruiting her reluctant sidekick Chan, Adeline Loh leaves behind the consumerist razzle-dazzle of Kuala Lumpur to embark on a journey through Zambia. Painting a vivid portrait of this little-known country, Loh’s travelogue interweaves slices of local culture and history with a stream of colourful and strange encounters – with cranky buffaloes, dodgy safari guides, comic warthogs, Nollywood films, sperm-flavoured beverages and feuding campers. Her sharp eye for detail, lively voice and keen sense of the ridiculous make for an engaging tale.’ MEG MUNDELL, author of Lonely Planet Sydney (4th & 5th editions)
‘Both funny and poignant. From the very first page, Adeline Loh breaks cultural and personal barriers, and assumptions, with charm and irresistible wit. Loh reveals a keen eye and an uncommon sensitivity to other cultures, especially on a continent most of us give little thought to or care little about. Her exciting adventure through the wilds of southern Africa is a journey of both personal and cultural self-discovery, all with an acute appreciation of all that we have in common and all that sets us apart as the prism of humanity – and all with a great flair for finding the humour in every situation. ... Loh reveals as much about her own culture as the one she is travelling through. Her remarkable tale is refreshingly hip while still paying tribute to pioneers of women’s travel writing like Dervla Murphy and Freya Stark. What sets this tale apart is that as a woman, and as an Asian, her experiences are a cultural mirror we can all identify with to a surprising degree.’ ERIK FEARN, travel journalist
‘ “Thelma and Louise” of Asia with a sense of humour. Loh should use the pseudonym “Adrenaline Loh”. Entertaining, witty and funny. But more importantly, it shows us that once in a while, we should step out of our comfort zones to discover something possibly more precious.’ ZHANG SU LI, author of A Backpack and a Bit of Luck
COPYRIGHT
Peeing in the Bush:
The Misadventures of Two Asian Girls in Zambia
By Adeline Loh
ISBN 978-983-3698-60-8
e-ISBN 978-967-415-875-0
Published by
(a division of MPH Group Publishing Sdn Bhd)
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Copyright © 2013 Adeline Loh
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Cover design by bluelinemedia
Illustration by Amy Ng