FISHIN IN ZAMBIA

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Tigerfish are ready takers of flies and will attack anything if in the mood being particularly good in the early morning or late afternoon. Preferably caught on streamer patterns and clousers favourite colours are red, yellow, black, orange and purple on very strongly constructed flies on a copper wire body on rods from 7 - 10 using either floating, or sinking lines fast sinking lines work best. You will need either piano wire or trace, as their teeth are sharp.

For bream, rods from 3 - 5 are good using floating or intermediate line with fine tippets and trout flies. Beaded nymphs, woolly buggers, San Juan worms and Pheasant tails all work well in varying colours and fishing is done in flat calm water. On artificial lures spinners like the Mepps black fury are good for Bream and Rapalas or copper and silver spoons are very good for Tigerfish.

A couple of things to consider about Tigerfish flies: The fly should sink fast — design your rig line and leader around this. Hook up - the hook must be needle sharp. Shaper hooks will penetrate the boney mouth better. Hook size range from The better the fly the more it will survive the fight. Important as you want to get the fly back in the water in good condition.

The best way to ensure the quality of your fly is to tie it yourself. Light tackle will do with this fish. They will run long and hard down stream and if not stopped in their tracks, you can easily get snagged by an obstacle on route. They will take spoons and their relatives the catfish family like big flies in orange, purple, red and other dark coloured flies. Heavy tackle is recommended. Worm like baits are good with a small hook.

They are found in swift moving waters and rapids. Cab obtain a size up to 13lbs caught a variety of baits from worms, insects and now also targeted on fly. They are found in the Zambezi and its main tributaries. Recommended camps in Zambia that are good for fishing are: Lunga River lodge is great for a variety of fish such as River Bream, Tilapia species, as well as Cornish Jack and Bottlenose in the slower deep waters of the Lunga River.

African Pike can also be targeted in the river. Luangwa River can be fished in certain areas with the correct permits which can be obtained; our lodges like Kalamu and Chinegwe are not equipped for fishing but if you have your own equipment you could fish for species such as Cornish Jack, Vundu, and Tiger Fish are also caught. One needs to always keep in mind that in the majority of waters in Zambia you will find hippopotamus and crocodile.

Wading in the rivers or fishing from the banks can be very dangerous and is not recommended.

Africa and the Peace Corps through the looking-glass

It is always best to fish from a boat and the River club and Lunga River lodge are well equipped for this. It is also recommended to take an insecticide spray against tsetse fly and to also take precautions against malarial. Over the past two years I have watched fish ponds spring up throughout my district like boils, pockmarking the flat wetlands seemingly overnight.

I have walked down verdant bush paths, along baking hot asphalt, and through raucous marketplaces. I have drifted off to sleep to the heavy patter of an all-night downpour in mid-January, and I have awoken to the late-June sunrise piercing my hut with shafts of light at 5: Over the past two years I have biked two thousand kilometers across the changing of seasons, through clouds of gnats and beneath searing sun.

I have waved to two thousand screaming children. Over the past two years I have discovered to my chagrin what it is like to be at the same time shocking, appealing, confusing, novel, desirable, and terrifying. I have been jeered like a Super Bowl referee who misses a blatant horsecollar and leered at like a leggy blonde trying to slip past a construction site.

FAO Fisheries Country Profile - THE REPUBLIC OF ZAMBIA

I have been prodded like the beleaguered family mutt and ogled with the same combination of fascination and apprehension as a tired python in a zoo. I have reacted with amusement, with anger, with irritation, and sometimes even with patience. I got to fry up a chunk of this foot python burned in a brush fire; it tasted like — wait for it — chicken. Over the past two years I have had enough strange experiences to fill hours of outrageous stories for bored future grandchildren.

Over the past two years I have traveled several hours in the open backs of trucks driven by several different strangers, and none have been serial killers. I have attempted to play my guitar for kids in the neighborhood who instantly bolted, thinking that it was a gun and that it was I who was the serial killer. Over the past two years I have marveled again and again at the unsolicited generosity of pure strangers, and I have seen the power of a simple human connection.

I have learned that, despite our various differences, most people tend to be pretty much the same wherever you go. A rural fish farmer who likes talking about goats meets another rural fish farmer who likes talking about goats. Over the past two years I have met with dozens of aspiring fish farmers. Some of whom actually turned out to be interested in fish farming, instead of making an appointment merely to see the muzungu.

I have visited their farms, greeted their wives, and played with their children. Over the past two years I have offered advice on how to improve existing ponds and laid out plans for where to dig new ones. I have told the farmers that I would check back with them in one week. I have returned to find that little or no progress has been made.

Tiger Fishing on the Zambezi

And again I have greeted their wives and played with their children. Over the past two years I have reminded myself over and over again of the oft-repeated Bemba mantra: I have scraped twenty-three rat carcasses off my floor, carried into my hut by my highly annoying, highly-trained assassin of a cat.

Each time, I have told myself that I am building character. Over the past two years I have stared at the same spot on my wall for a full half-hour. I have stared at the pattern of bark on a tree branch until I spotted Waldo. I have stared at outrageously prematurely developed teenaged girls until I realized that I was staring and mentally kicked myself under the table.

I have stared at an ant crawling along the dirt for so long that it finally snapped at me huffily that it was rude to stare. I have had entire conversations with myself. Over the past two years I have convinced hordes of kids to sweep my porch, weed my yard, wash my buckets, and cut my grass.

I have paid them in old plastic bags and empty bottles and matchbox covers. Over the past two years I have seen enough tragedy to fill an epic novel. I have seen a teacher whose only crime was being born female run out of town by a community claiming she was involved in witchcraft, and I have seen men who I thought epitomized virtue repeatedly cheat on their wives, laughingly denying their infidelity the entire time. I have visited a year-old boy on his deathbed. I have seen the agony etched into his stretched face, the terror in his eyes as they rolled back into his head. I have stood numbly, helplessly, as his exhausted mother mustered the last of her resolve to thank us for coming with a tight, despairing smile.

Over the past two years I have attended seventeen funerals, and walked or biked past dozens more. Over the past two years I have learned what it is to be humble. I have been shown what it means to be wise. I have realized that I am not either of these things. And yet despite this, I have decided to try. Maybe, unlike in baseball and bowling, the effort itself just might count for something. Over the past two years I have seen that it really does take an entire village to raise a child.

I have also seen that it takes an entire village laughing uproariously to fish a bucket out of a well after a mortified new Peace Corps volunteer has accidentally dropped it in.

Thank you for teaching me about the things that matter, the things that we cannot change, and the things that we should never stop trying to change. Thank you for showing me the warmth of a village and the resiliency of a people. And thank you for accepting me into your community and into your lives.

No Peace Corps volunteers have been harmed in the making of this post. The fewer resources or amenities that a Peace Corps volunteer has, the higher up on the pecking order of Peace Corps bragging rights he or she ascends. And Peace Corps volunteers who serve in countries like Zambia scoff at these volunteers from their lofty perch atop the primitiveness rankings, anchored by their proud boasts of having no electricity and no running water. Behold my very slow but fully functioning water collection device — works: Even within the same Peace Corps post, volunteers are keenly aware of the differences between provinces and from site to site.

However, none of these hardships can top the Peace Corps trump card: It is an undeniable fact that life in the Peace Corps was harder, purer, grittier, and more primitive back before you were born. My fancy kitchen with a state-of-the-art water storage system left , gravity-powered tap center top , natural fuel stove right , and automatic food compost disposal system center, furry. A large, zippered version of a reusable grocery bag made from durable woven plastic.

The personal transportation accessory of choice for rural Zambians and cash-strapped Peace Corps volunteers, who have been known to stuff these things with everything from pasta to books to pineapples to live chickens. For the aesthetic pleasure of the discerning traveler, Zambags are adorned with vivid color prints of everything from large African mammals to the cosmopolitan skyline of Dubai to Miley Cyrus.

Zambags strapped to the backs of bicycles are a common sight -- this was my load for a mile bike ride last June. If charisma mattered more than brains and determination, little Lenge would never have to work a day in his life.

You cat, come back! Proving to my homestay siblings that I really did live there two years ago. In September, this post was published to the Peace Corps website. These crazy kids never fail to put a smile on my face.

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