Life in Livingstone
Throughout my short time in Livingstone, I learned there was quite a lot to the small town other than Victoria Falls. It was also quite easy going while wandering the city, as I usually had a group of Irish with me for the journey.
I stayed at Jollyboy's Backpackers in Livingstone, and it was a treat. Within five minutes, you could be downtown in the new part of the town or you could venture the opposite way into the traditional local markets. The markets were where we went! I had been to a lot of local markets throughout the last few weeks, but they all paled in comparison to the authenticity and buzz of an African market. From "fresh" caterpillars, to local peanut butter and every item of used clothing imaginable, the market provided everything you could ever wish for. That is, of course, if you are into eating caterpillars. I would advise to go for it on account of the experience, but definitely not the taste!
We were constantly greeted with smiles throughout our time on the streets of Livingstone, with the occasional laughter and shout of "Mzungu", a word associated with people of European descent. The children were adorable, running after us looking for photos or just a simple "hello." Either would send them running away laughing. Again, the humanity and positivity of people in what many would consider dire conditions astounded me.
My final day in Livingstone was spent at an orphanage, pictured above. It was split quite evenly between girls and boys, from ages as young as three to about eighteen. After talking with the manager, she said it was rare for any one of her children to get adopted. If lucky, they go onto college or trade school, but most of them end up struggling to find work and therefore remain in the streets. I was fortunate enough to talk to many of these boys and girls, asking them about daily life and what they wanted to be when they grew up. I even shared a few games of soccer with the boys, and by the end I was dripping in sweat; they definitely know how to play!
As I headed back to the border with Botswana in my shared taxi, I again realized how lucky I am to be doing what I'm doing, with the safety of knowing I can go back to a clean, safe, and healthy environment. It's different, to be out there seeing the world instead of from a television screen or reading about it from my iPhone. When it's staring me straight in the face, there's no escaping the reality of these people and their situations.
It was time to cross the border to Botswana, once again going over the River Chobe. I was running late, and this fact would make my crossing quite interesting..