Friday, June 27, 2008


Since receiving our shiny red bikes a few weeks ago, Trevor and I have put on serious miles on the gravel roads of Eastern province.

My regular commute to the boma involves 20 minutes on a road studded with potholes, oxcarts, goats, chickens, pigs, children playing soccer, washouts, and ladies walking to town balancing massive bundles on their heads.

We’ve also made several five-hour treks to and from Chipata, a ride most notable for a shortcut that follows a path through villages that seem impossibly remote and across a stream whose bridge is a giant felled tree. The last two times we have crossed, a herder has been there with his cows, singing to himself.

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