Zam On It!
Half a lifetime ago, I went to Zambia. Twice. The second trip was only for a few hours, a short trek across the bridge that spans the Zambezi to view the Zambian side of Victoria Falls. Before that, in the fall of 1996, I spent several days there, entering at Chirundu on a bus from Harare, and proceeding to Lusaka. After a short stay in the capital, I rode a train north to Kapiri Mposhi, where I was stranded overnight due to a train derailment. The local people at that tiny railway station--the guard, his friends and acquaintances who appeared to turn up just to talk through the night, a prostitute--made me aware of realities I didn't know existed and reminded me I should probably have something like 51% faith in humanity. For all I learned from them, though, why couldn't any have told me about Zamrock? Come on, Kapiri Mposhi strangers, you had one job! Yeah, I realize you had many jobs, but why couldn't that have been one of them? It thus became...