May 2, 2016

A few nights ago, I camped on a farm not far from Choma, Zambia. I asked the woman when I got there if they served any food, and she said yes. I planned to walk back to the main house after a couple of hours, when I finished setting up my tent and settled in, to see about dinner. It was almost dark already. I hadn’t decided whether I would cook tonight or see what they had to eat.

After pitching the tent, and spending time with the local wildlife, I climbed into the tent to relax and read for a while. 

Not quite Dexter, but not a bad surrogate. Although here’s a warning: after the cat has been hanging around your tent and campsite, wipe the outside of the tent down good with a damp cloth. The next night after this guy was hanging around, I camped in a spot with a lot of dogs. They must have smelled the cat. They peed on two corners of my tent. Grrrr.

About an hour later, I hear a voice outside my tent.

“Sir, your dinner is ready.”

Really? I wasn’t expecting that. I unzipped the rainfly, and there’s a guy standing there with a glass serving tray, with my dinner. Wow. Room service. Or tent service. For 50 kwacha (about $5.00). 

Tent-side service.