“Now, you are really scaring me. For all I know, you might be an alien from another planet.”
Allison froze. After several seconds of no response, Allison finally blurted out: “How did you know?”
“How did I know what?”
“How did you know that I am an alien from another planet.” Now, it was Brad’s turn to go silent before speaking.
“You aren’t, are you? An alien from another planet.”
“Brad, sweetheart, it’s just the way you are reacting now is exactly why I have always been hesitant to tell anyone my secret. I am an alien and have been living a lie from the first day of my arrival here nearly twenty years ago, landing in my own little space capsule in the corn fields of the Dawkins homestead.”
For the rest of the morning and afternoon and into the late evening, Allison shared with Brad the complete history of her life on planet Zorbus and planet Earth.
“Brad, I love you with all my heart. For me to go on with this secret without telling you was killing me. Please forgive me and if you find in your heart this too strange to deal with, then let us part and I beg of you, please do not tell another living soul.”
“If the world learns of my true identity; my deception, the Chinese or the Russian scientist will whisk me away to someplace like Siberia where you or anyone else will never see me again. I am too valuable a guinea pig for them not to want to study me and run painful tests to see what’s different about the people of my unknown planet. A planet they have never heard of before.”
After moments of silence, Brad spoke up. “Allison, do you think for one minute that I am so shallow that I would pass up the opportunity to be with the woman I love, the most beautiful and most talented person on this planet or any other planet? My love is unconditional. You could be from a planet of mass murders or two-headed lizards for all I care. It’s you I love. And I will never let anything stand in the way of that love. By the way, alien girl, don’t you think it’s about time we end this sad commentary and go down to the Space Club and join our friends.”
A very happy Allison, in total agreement, couldn’t wait to start breathing again.
20
Arrival in Africa
A delegation of Zambian officials from the Zambian National Heritage Conservation Commission, plus local Lusaka officials met Allison’s party of excavators at the Lusaka International Airport with something less than a warm welcome. After the hours of travel and months of planning, Allison could hardly believe that it was all coming to fruition at this moment.
The Commission for the Preservation of Natural and Historical Monuments and Relics, entrusted with the conservation of Zambia’s natural and cultural heritage takes the responsibilities of their job quite seriously. Maintaining a high level of security and control of all sanctioned digs throughout Zambia. A necessary precaution given that there have been too many incidents of thieves who think nothing of either destroying or smuggling ancient artifacts out of the country for sale for profit. Sadly, museums around the world rarely ask the profiteer how he or she came about having ownership of such valuable property.
After a brief meeting and light lunch, the group of archeologists; or ‘dirt diggers,’ as Charlie referred to the group, from Iowa, with no time allowed for sightseeing, began their long trip to the dig site. Not overjoyed with their official reception which seemed more like a dirge than a warm welcome to Zambia.
“I don’t exactly get a warm ‘fuzzy’ that these people actually want us here,” exclaimed Charlie.
The small group of archeologists from Iowa were bussed to the archeological site with its location near the famous Mumba Caves where can be found, archived, thousands of artifacts of the Mesolithic (8000 BC-2700, Middle Stone Age), Neolithic (latter part of Stone Age, about 12,000 years ago), Bronze Age (time between Stone Age and Iron Age) — (final epoch of the three-age system) were discovered. Many of these same artifacts of early antiquities are stored in the Livingstone Museum in Lusaka.
After about three hours traveling on what could hardly be described as a roadway, the group arrived. Tired, hungry, and cold. More drizzly rain with cloudy, gloomy, overcast weather accompanied them the entire trip. It certainly did not bode well for the newcomers who were not used to such rustic living conditions.
“Is this how we are going to have to live while we are here?” bemoaned one of the students, obviously, not used to living under less than pastoral conditions.
To make matters worse, on their way to the camp where they were to stay, the driver and his sidekick kept looking at the girls, making sly remarks to each other with one or the other occasionally heard giggling—not a comfortable feeling. Out in a world of darkness where no one could hear a cry for help, the little Iowa group felt vulnerable; an easy target for attack. Thankfully, nothing happened. Following a meal of cold leftovers – the cook obviously had not returned from the weekend spent in Lusaka -- they all retired early, anxious to see what the next day might bring.
The intrepid visiting archeological group from the University of Iowa were housed, or ‘dumped’ in an old, dilapidated barracks-like construction. The relentless rain did not let up on their arrival—which made matters worse—bodies were tired, hungry, with tempers short. Groans of revulsion from the students, hardly detectable to the ears of Allison who, herself was disgusted with the sorry state of their living quarters. Unable to decide if she wanted to just cry or pack up and return to Iowa. Allison, cross and irritated muttered, “Having a damn rat run across your wet, soggy shoe, in near darkness does not make for a warm welcome, that is for damn sure.”
Barracks of similar construction stood nearby, housing what one would assume, a kitchen, dining, and recreation areas. Another building of similar design provided living quarters for the resident cook and domestic staff. None of the dwellings appeared to have been cleaned in months! Certainly not updated to any modern standards for a much longer period. When one of the girls had a call to go, she discovered the indoor plumbing was not working. With Charlie as her protector, they made their way through the muggy path that led to an ancient, rundown ‘potty’ house.
The cold and disappointed group of ‘dirt diggers’ from Iowa had one clear objective: continue the work of studying ancient burial findings at a recently abandoned dig site by the previous university team of astrologists. The ancient burial site in question was discovered at the mouth of an unexplored cave by a local shepherd boy. The discovered cave, its location near the famous Mumbwa Caves---with the new cave appropriately receiving the name: Mum II. The Mum II cave was neglected for centuries, recently coming into prominence, as previously mentioned when a local shepherd boy, discovered some human remains washed out of the cave mouth following a severe rainstorm.
Tools required for excavating and other equipment required for the dig, arrived late that evening—stored in an old shed near the barracks, padlocked for safe keeping with Professor Dawkins holding the only key. She had to wonder though: “If stolen, what use would anyone have for tools designed for work? Don’t thieves usually target ‘soft’ targets that bring them instant gratification?”
The next morning, the bright-eyed team of eager archeologists were faced with a rain-soaked, soggy earth, making getting around the dig site more difficult. Professor Dawkins soon learned any thought of free access to the two sites, one in the cave and one near the mouth of the cave was dashed. The local bureaucrats would never agree to that!
First, she had an official from the Lusaka Museum, allegedly representing the Zambian government, monitoring their every move—to make certain no artifact was released to their onsite lab for cleaning and study, until inspected and released by him. On the surface it seemed a reasonable request as many digs in the past in Zambia and other archeological sites around the globe, all had been victims of grave robbing by adventurers; making lots of money selling the best finds to museums located in Rome, Athens, Paris, London, and the United States.
Secondly, Allison had an onsite inspector, dictating sites where they could dig. And sites where they could not dig; more of those than the other, it seemed. It took all Allison could do to stop Charlie from slapping the inspector upside the head with a shovel! It was almost as if the Zambian government, on one hand, encouraged outside experts to dig and locate valuable artifacts. And at the same time, setting up governmental apparatus to stop them from accomplishing the very thing they were there to do!
With great patience, the best of the University of Iowa archeological team sat down to business. Aware of the prying eyes of some officials from the Lusaka Museum of ancient artifacts intently watching every move they made. Not a comfortable feeling but aren’t all digs subject to the same conditions. Why should it be different here?
The only break came when an old lady, who looked more dead than alive, arrived, declaring the noon meal was being served. Not sure what they were eating, as none of the group were familiar with the local cuisine; all dug in like a pack of hungry dogs! On hand, several workers from the local community were tasked to move site debris by wheelbarrow to a strategic staging area. At night and during the weekend, three guards from the Livingston Museum were posted around the premises to protect the archeological team and the dig site.
Not all locals liked having foreigners around their village. So, unescorted trips out at night were not a good idea. Plus, venomous snakes are another concern, both day and night. Five of the most venomous snakes in the world are found in Zambia. The Rhinoceros viper, most prevalent in Zambia, horn-like structure on its front, and hisses loudly when it senses persons approaching. The brightly colored Rhinoceros viper is one of the few snakes that give birth to their newborn instead of laying eggs. The Green Mamba, cousin to the Black Mama, grows to over six feet. Puff Adder, is a poisonous snake found almost everywhere throughout Zambia. The most venomous of all vipers. Does not move when it senses people approaching. Once bitten, death can come quickly.
True Cobra of the cobra group, the worst of the spitting cobras – capable of squirting poisonous venom up to six feet. If venom lands in the eye, it can cause temporary or permanent blindness. Black Mama. World’s deadliest. Color ranges from grey to dark brown. The name black comes from the color of its mouth. Venom can kill anywhere from thirty minutes to six hours. Working digs was not so bad during tourist season when busloads of tourists bussed-in to tour the Mumbwa Caves. During the off-season as it is now.
And as a precaution, to avoid giving out false impressions about the dig, site workers were cautioned not to engage in any discussion with any outsider about the purpose of the dig. To be watchful where you step. Snakes could be anywhere! But as it soon became abundantly clear: the locals, obviously, did not get the memo. Or, if they did, they ignored it. When the posted guards were distracted, not looking, several small children scrambled through barriers specifically set up to preserve the integrity of the dig site. Rushing up to the workers demanding money. What else? Is this the road to hell? “Rain! Rain! Go away and come back another day.
But it refused to obey. In less than a week of organizing and digging, the group found themselves stuck. Living in decrepit living quarters, they hated! Nothing to do. Allison, thinking this might be a good time to find out just exactly what were the duties of the staff assigned to them by the National Heritage Conservation Commission. The same group of Zambia government blue blood snots who only, half-heartedly, welcomed the Iowa Archeology research team to the Republic of Zambia. Allison had a premonition, the Commission wanted them to fail! She did not understand why. “The way things are going, they may get their wish,” she thought.
With staff assembled and team members looking on, Allison began questioning the cook. “What is your job?”
“I’s cook for you all.”
“Let me get this straight,” piped in Allison. “Are you telling me, you cook our daily meals on a stove that is so filthy, it is doubtful it has been cleaned in months?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Realizing the other two natives probably understood zero English. Allison continued to question the cook. “What do these two do?”
“They’s cleans the house.”
