The Charcoal Incident…

Once a month I embark on a magical journey to buy charcoal in my village (sometimes sooner if my Iwes have used all my charcoal to draw on my floor). Now buying anything in the village is an adventure, we have a shop – but they are open on “when we feel like it” bases. There are also various villagers with stands on the side of the road which are used to sell everything from soap to shake-shake (beer), but the products, the times and where the items are located changes constantly. So normally when purchasing anything in the village you simply have to go on word of mouth.

“Ba Musonda balewete almalasha lelo?” {Does Mr. Musonda have charcoal today?}

“Nshishibe, Nalemona” {I don’t know, I will look.}

And that’s how it started; normally I would simply walk around the village like a crazy person randomly asking anyone that passes

“Mukwete amalasha?” {Do you have charcoal?}

“Kwisa amalasha?” {Where is charcoal?!”

But that day I took a more relaxed approach, I just asked one person to look for me. After we exchanged pleasantries and she asked to borrow my cat she went on her way. A bit later she eventually sent a child to tell me that the neighbor had some and would bring it over now. 4 hours later a man appeared slowly and carefully cycling with the heavy load on the back of the bike. Normally charcoal is 9pin to 15 pin, depending on size. Bastard charged me 17, but what choice did I have? So I hosted the huge bag equal to my height into my insaka gave away my money and figured that I would be done now for the month. I was wrong…

Not 30mins later Another man with charcoal on his bike came and told me he was sent by a neighbor, I laughed at the silliness and sent the poor man who most likely bike 12k to my house away feeling a bit guilty. But then a hour later ANOTHER man came with charcoal to my house, this was heavily intoxicated and had a hard time understanding that I already had charcoal and didn’t need more. Or conversation was more wild gesturing then talking as he couldn’t understand my Bemba and I couldn’t understand his slurred English. After a good half hour of this he eventually got the point but said he would only go is he could use my bathroom, for the sake of preserving my peaceful afternoon I let him go. While he was in the bathroom, TWO new men on bikes with charcoal showed up…

Welcome to Africa.

Elections and Libraries

Hey my 2 or 3 dedicated readers!

Long-time-no-see, it’s been busy in Zambia. We just had our elections Tuesday. It came down between the 2 major parties MMD and PF, MMD has been the ruling party in Zambia for most of the country’s history the opposition PF leader “King Cobra” Michael Sata, has actually run 4 times against the party. Looks like 4^th time’s a charm! Zambia has a new president, and thankfully the transition has been pretty peaceful. During the election time there was some violence randomly throughout the nation, but not bad for an African nation election. We were ordered to stay in the villages to stay safe.

As for the village, life is pretty normal. I’m currently teaching 2 exam classes so I’m trying to catch my students up and help them study before hand. I’m really excited about 2 new projects. My counter-part and I started an HIV support group in the village, which is something our community really needs. And our second project is a library/study room, we are taking all the unused books in the school (many are hidden in boxes for years so they don’t get stolen or broken) and making a room for students to come and read for an hour a day. I know this doesn’t sound like a big deal but in Zambia there is no reading culture. Most students cant read, let alone have the chance to use books. Its really early in the process, hopefully Tuesday we can do our first study period. I’ll let you know how it goes.

That’s all I have for now, feel free to look at some news about the elections below.

http://www.cnn.com/2011/09/24/world/africa/zambia-new-president/

http://www.africanews.com/site/Opposition_leader_Sata_wins_Zambian_elections/list_messages/39849

http://mg.co.za/article/2011-08-26-zambian-elections-poverty-prosperity-and-potholes

Now What?

So now what? I find myself asking this question all the time. Before coming to Peace Corps I always had a goal… to go to Peace Corps (from the age of 13 on). Now that I’m here I see the pit fall just pursuing one thing and not thinking about “after”. I still have a year and a half to make a decision. I’m leaning toward grad school especially the international education programs, and anthropology. But I am also thinking about extending, not necessarily in Zambia, Peace Corps response is really appealing to me. The nice thing about Peace Corps is that it puts you foot in the door of international work. I really enjoy teaching in a cross cultural environment, and seeing the difference between American education and Zambian education. Honestly I wouldn’t mind just getting my TESL/TEFL certification and traveling around teaching. If I even decide to just stay in America, I could happily go back to teaching pre-school, maybe do photography again or you know become a BMX biker. Its fun to think about the possibilities but that’s at least a year away, for now I’m just gonna enjoy the village.

Vacation Review

Lusaka:

I feel like it been forever since I was in the village. I had IST for 2 weeks in Lusaka where we got to do the amazing perm gardening workshop and gallivant around Lusaka to our heart desire. I ate enough Indian for a lifetime, saw every movie playing, danced the night away, and spend every Kwacha I had. It was good times. After all that I bussed myself down to Livingstone with some other volunteers to meet with my mom.

Livingstone:

I got to spend a night at the Jolly boys hostel first – gotta say I give it 5 stars. It a really fun, low-key place. "I never knew a morning in Africa when I woke up and I was not happy" adores the archway, I think its very telling. Complete with a cushion pit, tree house smoking room thing, and plenty of interesting international travelers passing through all for only 15$ - I'd recommend it one hundred percent to low budget travelers in Livingstone. My mother has a bit more refined taste and staying in a bunk bed with hundreds of 20somthings didn’t appeal. So we headed for the Royal Livingstone (the most expensive place money buy). I have to admit I was a bit uncomfortable with the celebration of colonialism so alive and well. However being situated on the Zambezi riverside in the middle of a national wildlife park is beautiful. And you do get very close and personal with the wildlife, as if it was totally normal sometimes Zebra and Giraffes will walk by your dinner table. At Livingstone of course the star of the show is Victoria Falls. We not only toured on foot but took to the air in a helicopter ride that made my mom desire to be a pilot. It was beautiful to see. We used the rivers closeness our advantage and enjoyed a sunset Zambezi river cruise (nicknamed the booze-cruise), which safely and comfortably carried us over water teeming with hippos, crocs and other animals. If that wasn’t enough, I had my own adventures at the falls. I worked up my courage to go to the devils pool, which turned out more complicated than I thought. I was met at the top of the water falls by a pushy young guy who told me how to get the devils pool, long story short to get to the pool you have to climb/wade through the top of the falls for about 30 mins with the possibility of flying off the edge to your death at every step. Due to the water level we gave up halfway and just hung out at the edge of the falls which was beautiful and a bit terrifying. I found of later that my guide was illegal and that apparently the pool isn’t open for another few weeks – whoops. After that death defying experience, I felt I hadn’t really put my life on the line enough this week and headed to the bunji jump on the bridge between Zambia and Zimbabwe. There are no words I’ll just show you pics and the video.

South Luangwa:

You’d think we would be done after all that right? Nope! We then took a plane over to one of the most popular parks in Zambia. We stayed at the fun and funky Flatdogs, which had the most enthusiastic and cool staff ever. This park was fantastic, offering 2 game drives a day, which lets you see the diurnal and nocturnal animals. We saw all 4 of the big 5, which live in the park. We even saw 2 leopards in one night. Our guide was spectacular, and the things he spotted were amazing. I think the most memorable was the chameleon, at night in a far away tree. Staying at the camp was a fun experience, since you are just across the river from the park you sometimes get visitors. At night the hippos come out of the water and block the path back to your tent, during the day its elephants. Which was extremely surreal and a bit scary – thank god for the watchmen that guide you around the camp!

Serenje:

The final part of our vacation was a quick trip to my site. It was really nice to have my mom meet all the villagers and teachers I’m working with. She did very well, in the village and actually seemed to enjoy doing the chores. Unfortunately this was only one day, so at 5 am we headed out to Ndola to get her on her flight. Because of lack of transport we had to hitch a bit, which I have to say was fun to introduce my mom to. Surprisingly I got her to Ndola on time and got me back before dark… although the last 50miles took 5 hours - that's Zambian transport for you.

Now what?

Vacation is done-zo, time to head back to the village. Its a bit daunting, after all this time around Americans you have to go back to being completely on your own. I love my village, but no matter how much I integrate I'm still an American in the middle of the bush. So its takes some adjustment, and patience. Wish me luck!

See more pics under the picture tab.

A Look Into Peace Corps Mental Health

I’ve begun to see a common trend in Peace Corps volunteers… we are all bi-polar. What I mean is that we all seem to have drastic mood swings during our service no matter where we serve. Peace Corps actually gives us a little chart about our predictable changes in moods here. After my 6 months here, I have noticed I tend to fall in one of 4 moods

Mood 1: Holy Crap I’m in Africa!

I normally have this thought when I wake up. And tend to have it whenever I experience something very “Zambian” like eating termites or hitching a ride on an ox-cart. This is generally followed by a sense of awe, and amazement at being here. I tend to also have this feeling when I encounter some strong cultural differences. Like a conversation about how hip-hugger jeans are creations of the devil and need to be prayed over before they can be worn. I also have this feeling when I do something I never thought I could, like when I biked up my nearby hill of death, or when I built my own oven.

Mood 2: My Life is Amazing

I tend to have this feeling when I manage to have a full conversation in Bemba, my students actually understand what I’m doing, I help my host family pound groundnuts, or I when I walk outside at night and see a blanket of stars above my head. Africa is a beautiful place and getting to actually experience the culture first hand is amazing. Especially for someone like me, I really treasure the moments when I’m allowed into the lives of the people I’m working with. While I’m marveling at my own luckiness, I imagine little singing blue birds following me and I’m tempted to skip around my village. I prance about with a smile so wide it actually hurts my face.

Mood 3: I Just Want To *insert activity from home*

Something normally triggers it like I just dropped all my water on my head, when trying to take a bath, or my braiser wont light. It’s no secret that in Africa everything requires a lot more effort – cooking, cleaning, bathing, and even sleeping. You have to really think out your day or you’ll end having no water to wash your hands or not having any food. So sometimes I think “God, I wish I could just use a microwave!”. This mood also includes certain activities. In America most of my friends were men, I tend to stay up late, and I’m agnostic on a pious day. In Zambia I do none of those things, partially due to availability and culture. I miss being able to call up one of my male friends at 3am to go to a dinner and just drink coffee – all 3 of which aren’t available to me and would result in complete a lot of misunderstanding in my village. These are the moments I feel homesick, not even for anyone or thing in particular I just miss having a certain way of life.

Mood 4: This Game Sucks I’m Going Home!

Thankfully this mood is rare and generally is fixed quickly. But it happens. I normally have this reaction of “I just want to go home!” after something goes very wrong or my nerves are rubbed raw. When no one shows up to a meeting I’ve been trying to hold for days, when the particularly forceful children (who are rich btw) on my bike ride to the BOMA run after me pulling on my clothes asking for money, when men are just plain vulgar and rude to me when I’m just trying to buy my tomatoes for the week. There is no way about it, being a white person in Africa means that you can’t blend in. People will always have something to say to you or to ask you for and everything you do is a production. It’s also hard when you get charged 3 times the normal amount for things and you hear everyone you pass say “Muzungu!” or “Buuga!”. Normally you take this in stride and even use it to your advantage to get a villages attention but sometimes it’s just plain tiresome and all you want to do is be somewhere where you don’t feel like an animal at the zoo.

I can honestly say I have had days where I have gone through all 4 moods at least twice. Its just the nature of the work, and living in another culture. As a side note this blog entry was inspired by an episode of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” about steroid induced mood swings (we laughed at how much it resembled Peace Corps moods). The more you know.

Funerals in Zambia

Funerals in Zambia are a full sensory experience. What you see is hundreds of people, men to one side dressed in nice slacks and shirts, women to one side in multicolor sea of chitenge wrappers as skirts and as head wraps. You see children running around as if nothing has happened. If it’s the night before the burial you will also see reed mats laid out in the yard carefully surrounding large camp fires, set out for the village to sleep on overnight. You hear the haunting sound of women wailing loudly, there seems to be a certain pattern to who wails and for how long but the women will tell you its just when you are feeling sad. You also hear the eerie silence turn to laugher and talking as the night progresses, the longer the village is sleeping in the yard before the burial the more relaxed everyone becomes. You smell the wood burning, and you can detect the nshima’s familiar scent as a enormous amount is being prepared. And you can feel metaphorically at least this sense of sadness but also comfort and support.

Everyone is there; people come from all corners of the village come to stay. Rain, cold, or blistering heat people will sleep outside in the yard to “comfort” the family in morning. There is no set time in which to bury the body, until the whole family can travel there, the body is kept in the house. If there is a town nearby though, health officials will hold the body until burial. During the time between the death and the burial gifts are continuously brought – mostly food; meali-meal, saladi, tomatoes, beans. When I attended the funeral of a student of mine, I felt and immense sadness looking at my bottle of saladi and cups of beans thinking “so that’s what a child’s life amounts to?”.

If the deceased is a member of the church, the burial has a decidedly more theatrical air. During the nights staying over, the church will bring large drums made from wood, and animal skins. They will lead the visitors in songs, dances and prayers all night - you can hear it from almost anywhere. When the funeral comes there is a long sermon led, for the funerals I attended the themes spoken about were choice and acceptance. The casket generally made from a simple pin sits in the middle of the compound and everyone tries to find a place to see the center. The men sit on chairs and wooden stools, the women on chitenges, reed mats of just the soft ground.
The service is atleast an hour of so, usually including singing and dancing by the church. When it is time to bury the whole village stands and follows the people carrying the casket. At the funerals I attended the graveyard was a good walk, and looking around watching this whole village walking to one place, listening to the women wail, and sing (some collapsing down to the ground as if their legs could not work) I couldn’t help feeling like we were on a pilgrimage. You see school children pick flowers for the grave along the way, this time of year my village every time grabbed bright red ones.

As you reach the burial spot and unmarked bit of earth pre-dug for the burial, people cling to trees and each other. A shorter sermon, and more singing, until the body is carefully placed into the ground. The men using fiber from the insides of trees to steady the descent. This is when it becomes a bit overwhelming. Many of the women start screaming, there wailing takes on a whole new level, some fall the ground and shake, this generally the first time you see tears on people faces, which they quickly try to wipe away and try to return to wailing (crying isn’t considered socially acceptable). The men throw dirt on the grave, when its covered the women come and sing over the grave and pat down the dirt on there knees. At the very end the children put flowers on the unmarked grave and there is one more song, at which time people start to walk back to their homes to continue life as normal.

Community Entry is Finshed!

Alright! Community Entry is over! What does that mean? Well I have been in the village for 3 months (In Zambia for 6 – when did that happen?). It means that I can now leave my district, use the provincial house (which has internet) and use my travel days. I live insanely close to the house by Peace Corps standards and will now have much more access to modern forms of communication. Next week I head out for IST training for 2 weeks directly afterwards I head to Livingstone. My mom is visiting me on the 21st -30th so if you want to send something to me contact her. I have a lot of things I could write about for you, to be honest I have 3 journals filled with thoughts but due to laziness I’ll just give you greatest hits of sorts.
- Killing a black Mamba
- Co-teaching grade 9 Geography / grade 7 CTS
- Holding an HIV and AIDS workshop (explaining that no you cannot catch HIV from a mosquito bite).
- Building a grass fence around my house
- Attending 2 funerals (explaining that requests its own post)
- Getting a cat!
- Art trade with Megan
- Working with women’s group to apply for grants
- Changing my own bike tire
- Thinking my house was on fire and falling into a sink hole while running frantically to it…
- Sewing chitenge curtains
- Weighting babies at the under 5 clinic
- Biking up both giant hills
- Biking 150k in a week
- Visiting 5 of my schools
- Pre-school in the Nsaka
- Sports days!
There’s so much more. Living in Africa is so surreal; it is an adventure every day. So far I’ve been enjoying, and I’m excited for the rest of my service. I love teaching in a cross-cultural environment, it’s amazing to see the differences in education and thinking patterns between cultures. I’m also enjoying my work with the women’s groups, the progress is slow but it feels like we are making real strides. I’ve only got 21 more months to go which is insane, I feel like I just got off the plane from philly yesterday (and with IST and vacation I’m losing a whole month). I’m trying to take everything as slow as possible so I can really take in this experience, most of my life I’ve been in a hurry to “keep on track” but here, I’m not sure if it’s the culture or not but I’m taking a significantly more relax pace.
Stay classy friends.