Where you invest your love, you invest your life

Hope everyone had nice holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, MLK and groundhog day and all the others since I last wrote. I trust they came and went as everyday comes and goes, in 24 hours. The passage of time since my last blog post was deliberate. Actually, it was only supposed to be for one month. A conversation with my mom prompted me to take a month off and away from correspondence. The provincial house for me had changed from sanctuary to a place of worry and stress that I communicate as much as possible in the short time I was allowed there. The fast/free internet had become a curse as much as blessing. And after all, in the long run, what does it really matter? So, I decided to not write a blog for a month and limit correspondence. Well, it was such a relief that I extended it until now and might do it again. There’s so much that filled the days of these last 3 months. I’ll only highlight them here.

In October (after last blog), I was counted in Zambia’s census! And I got to see the World Series! I had to stay up until midnight or 1 for it to start. No big deal unless you’re used to going to bed around 8. It made me feel weird to see the ballpark at Arlington and Texas skies. There was a twinge of homesickness at seeing something familiar, but also something different that I can’t quite describe that made me fearful of the distance I’ve removed myself from some aspects of that culture. And at the same time it made me really excited to know that someday I’ll be able to go to a baseball game again with my family!

Sometime in November I went to Lake Malawi with 3 amazing ladies (Cherie, Julie, and Allison). We had a blast together and the lake was calm and relaxing. I swam everyday, learned how to play a local game called “Bao,” and got to see the “smoke clouds” of mating termites that swarm in the sky over the lake once a year (this phenomenon is featured on the Freshwater episode of Planet Earth). Later that month, I traveled to Lusaka to get my retainer returned to its proper place. The dentist was very gentle and after I told her from where my doctor thought the retainer had fallen, she chuckled throughout.

In December, Gooey sana had 2 babies! Neither are deformed and I counted to make sure they had the normal number of toes for kitties. A bishop from Zambia was just appointed to Cardinal within the Catholic Church. His name is Cardinal Mazombwe. I think they said he was the first from sub-Saharan Africa. He is from Eastern Province so he traveled around the area saying mass. I got to attend his mass in Lundazi and it was quite beautiful. The people were so excited and gave him many gifts including: 7 goats, 15 chickens, bags and bags of mealie meal (cornmeal) and sugar.

Just before Christmas, my brother, Tanner came for a visit! His visit was so special that I am going to write a separate blog post just for it.

So after he left in January, I stuck around in Lusaka and helped conduct the first week of In-Service Training for the group that is one year behind mine. It was fun and that group has some interesting characters. I really enjoyed seeing other trainers from my group who also came down to help.

On a subsequent trip to Lusaka, I tripped and fractured a bone in my right foot. So I’m currently laid up in Lusaka for a week or so. I’ll hopefully move to the Chipata house later this week, but can’t go to the village until my foot is healed. And Cherie was here with Malaria so it was nice to have someone else around to talk to while confined to the couch. But she has returned to our home district.

I have now crossed into “The Year I Come Home.” My last official day as a Peace Corps Volunteer is September 24. Less than 8 months. The mixed emotions about this can be overwhelming sometimes. The more I love this place, the more I hate it. The more I want to go home, the more I want to stay here. The more memories, good or bad, you collect in a place, the more you feel tied to and connected to it somehow. But then, can’t that sometimes just be sentimentality? Which has its purpose, but shouldn’t be allowed to dictate your decisions. I know I said in a previous post that it is to the prairie I belong, and I’m not denying the deep connection I have to straight horizons, constant breezes, and vast open spaces, but I realize now that though I can make a home, I do not belong to a place any more than it belongs to me. I’m not downplaying the unique qualities or the importance of place, for there is an inextricable link between who you are as a person and the place where you are, I’m just saying that I will not be bound because of a place, be it here or there. I can love and work and play and be myself in any place so long as it is truth I am following.

Let it take away all of the darkness

After I wrote that last blog, I stayed in the village for 6 weeks! All the chickens in my village died from a disease. The guineas lived though...and decided to roost on my roof and right behind my house. I haven't needed an alarm clock in weeks! I baked Idah a birthday cake! I also taught her how to bake one herself. My family enjoyed it very much. I think my father gets to move back home to the village anytime this month. His contract work with Cargill will end soon and then the whole family will be together again!

Fish farming work has increased to a satisfactory level. During those weeks, I conducted site surveys, pond staking, and pond construction. I also experienced my first pond harvest! It was fun and frustrating. People were in good spirits but trying to get assistance from the Department of Fisheries was like pulling teeth. They finally came through 2 hours late with a net that we no longer needed. Oh well. The pond got harvested and my farmers went home with delicious fish to fill their babies’ bellies. Success!

At the beginning of September, Peace Corps sent 3 newbies (new volunteers in training) to my village for a site visit. 9 total came to Lundazi for visits. 3 to my village, 3 to Cherie’s village, and 3 to Ryan’s (my ex-nearest neighbor) village. The 3 to Ryan’s were/are the 3 newest editions to the Lundazi family!!! My 3 visitors, Clara, Chuck, and Jim stayed at my village for about 4 days. I took them around to visit fish farmers and they helped stake a pond for my wonderful friend, Thole. We had a pretty fun time around the village and I think my villagers got a kick outta them as well. They were especially impressed by the brightly colored kanyumbas (small houses…which really were their tents) that they brought with them.

On our last day, I arranged to hire Thole’s oxcart to take us the 8 km to Ryan’s village. The oxcart ride was hilarious! It took us over 2 hours. We looked ridiculous and everyone that passed us laughed. Once at Ryan’s (now Mahdi has replaced him as my neighbor in that village), we met up with most of the Lundazi crew and the 9 newbies that were visiting volunteers in the area. We had a village party complete with dancing, a hair cutting, alcohol, and a bonfire/campfire! For the first time in Africa, I slept outside under the stars (no tent…only a blanket). It wasn’t scary at all, but I don’t think I’d do it during rainy season with all the freaky bugs.

Soon after, Idah and I went on an adventure to find Spider. I’m gonna skip the details of the “finding” part of the adventure because they are overshadowed by the actual adventure that is the person. Spider Lusale is a man of my parent’s age who is filled with more spirit than I’ve seen in most. As Idah and I passed one end of his village, where most of the people were dulling their consciousness with village brew, Spider was hard at work, bent over his 80+ year-old hand-crank lathe. Of course, another man was cranking/spinning the lathe. I soon was to find out that the lathe had first belonged to the father of Spider. His father is also the one who taught him (beginning in 1974) to create such beautiful carvings. He almost immediately became one of my most favorite people I’ve ever met. He was welcoming, enthusiastic, and engaging. His presence was comforting and his personality encouraging. He was honest about his struggles yet not once did he try to cheat me on price; which, by the way, fell way short of truly reflecting the value of his work and creative ability. $5 for a pair of candlesticks. $5 for a pair of goblet/chalices. I even was able to order a complete chess set for $12.

The process and machinery is all hand and manpower. The way he described it was a tree in between two ball bearings. A roughly whittled piece of tree is stuck on the outer end and the inner tree is spun with a rope that is looped around several times. Spider would then use different shapes and sizes of wedges to cut into the tree. When the carving was finished, the pieces would be sanded and varnished. When I inquired about the lack of varnish inside the sugar bowls, Spider warned me to never put water inside because “it will go into the tree and push out.” I enjoyed how even when he was referring to the finished pieces he would still call them trees…never wood. It was a beautiful way to express his relationship with his art. He never forgot its living form, its true nature.

I passed my one-year anniversary of moving to my village on October 1. Then, 2 days after that I jumped on a Peace Corps cruiser and went to Lusaka with all the other fantastic people from my intake. It was time for our Mid-term conference. The “conference” consisted of basically medical and dental formalities mixed in with sessions where we discussed what’s happening at our sites, how we feel about our service, what challenges and successes have we experienced, etc. I think I’ve sprinkled my other blogs with answers to these questions and I don’t feel like talking about it right now. So I’ll leave it at that. I will say that it was really nice to see everyone from my intake again. January was the last time we were all together in one place. Change and growth are fascinating phenomena to observe.

Well, after it was all over I hitched back to Chipata. Once there, I piddled around a few days and caught up with some Chipata friends. The day I was going to head up to Lundazi, I was all packed up, about to throw my bag over my shoulder and walk out the door, when I decided to eat an apple. And it was a delicious apple. When I was finished I stood in the doorway to the living room and told some people good-bye as I picked at the pieces of apple that were stuck in the bottom permanent retainer on my teeth. All of a sudden the retainer popped off! I thought, “Well, crap” and got my phone to call medical in Lusaka. It happened to be Columbus Day and the office was closed, so my only choice was to call the emergency medical number, which goes to either one of the nurses or the doctor. I got the doctor: our new doctor from the Congo. We exchanged pleasantries and then I got down to telling him the events that just happened. Now, the wide-world of orthodontics is not as wide-spread as one might imagine in sub-saharan Africa. So the doc and I had a funny conversation as we tried to sort out what had happened.

First, we established that something had come off:
Me: my bottom permanent retainer popped off
Doc: so your IUD has come out? You should come in so we can put it back.
Me: what?! No, the bottom retainer on my teeth. It has come off.
Doc: what?

So then, we cleared up what a retainer was:
Me: sometimes people have braces when they are younger and when the braces come off a piece of metal is permanently glued on the teeth to keep them straight. It’s called a retainer. It is a small piece of metal wire. This is what has come off
Doc: It has fallen out of your uterus?
Me: *smack forehead*

So finally, I elaborated on the commonly accepted locale of said retainer:
Me: No! Mouth! My mouth! It came out of my mouth. The piece of metal was stuck to my teeth and it has come off.
Doc: Oooooooh. Hm, you have to come in for that tomorrow.
Me: Really? Tomorrow? To Lusaka?
Doc: Yes. We must put it back.

So Tuesday morning, bright and early and still not really sure that doc knew exactly what had come out from exactly where, I boarded a bus for Lusaka. The weather has gotten extremely hot (October is the hottest month) and the ride down was less than comfortable. Needless to say, it was a wasted trip because 1) a retainer coming off is not an emergency and 2) dentists in Africa are quite similar to those in America in that it is very difficult to schedule an appointment on short notice. So I trekked that entire way to Lusaka, back to where I had just come from 3 days earlier, to schedule an appointment for next month. And it’s with a dentist. All she’ll probably be able to do is take the cement/glue stuff off my teeth. At least I timed the appointment so that I get a cruiser ride down. And Peace Corps will pay for it.

I return to the village tomorrow. I plan to stay there for 5 weeks. So you might hear from me around Thanksgiving time…maybe.

Sleep well and wake even better.

Remember to balance and forget to worry.

Oh, and my family and some others in the village always tell me when I leave to greet those at home and those I meet. So I greet you on behalf of my loved ones here.

What lies ahead I have no way of knowing

I started writing this last month, but just wasn’t able to post it. I’ve got 2 big issues to talk about and then maybe some little ones to throw in. First, my adventure hitting the Zambian hotspots. Second, an examination of one year.

So last month (July in case you have forgotten as I tend to do from time to time), I got to dabble in the tourist life. Now, unless your only mode of cross-country transportation is by plane and you stay in the moderately pricey accommodations and you avoid villages, you will be forced to experience what Zambia is proud to offer as “The Real Africa”. It does not leave you with that blissfully-ignorant I’m-just-here-to-pamper-myself taste in your mouth. In fact, you usually end up with a mouthful of dust, a mindful of frustration, and a heartful of severe contrasts. My trip with Oliver was brilliantly successful, especially in how things just always happened to work out. Mostly this came down to transportation situations; barely making it to the Lusaka bus station to catch our lift to Livingstone, a successful plane landing in terrifying turbulence, catching a hitch from a generous Lutheran who ended up driving out of his way to deliver us at the doorstep of our safari camp. I must thank Oli for his humor and good nature when situations were potentially frustrating. Our ride from Lundazi to Chipata was in the back of a canter, sitting on bags of maize, the sun scorching our skin, battling the awful road while following a huge truck carrying loads of cotton kicking up exorbitant amounts of dust.

Allow me to start at the beginning of the adventure. I picked up Oli in Lusaka and we headed down to Victoria Falls or Mosi-oa-Tunya (the smoke that thunders). The falls were beautiful. There was a lot of mist being thrown up which partially obscured the view, but we got to walk across a bridge through the thick of it over to a plateau that seemed to receive perpetual rain. We went on a booze cruise one evening and met a croc named Duncan. Later, with the help of my good friend whiskey, I was able to charm our taxi driver into charging us ½ the fare by utilizing my previously untapped ability to conjure up a conversation in Nyanja (a Zambian language in which I have received zero training).

We flew from Lusaka to Chipata to save time. It was an interesting flight. There were seats for 6 passengers only. I had flown on a similar sized plane a few times before, but Oli had not. I was quite comfortable during take-off and Oli was not. By the time we were going in for a landing Oli was excited and I was not. I was freaked out by the turbulence and thought we were going to land short of the tiny tarmac run-way. But here I am writing to you.

The village was really fun. I had been given a small chicken when Marcey visited and by this time he was good and fat so we decided to eat him. However, mama was out in the fields and Idah didn’t know/want to kill the chicken sooo I had to step up to the plate (or chopping block…which was actually just the dirt ground under a tree). So I stepped on his wings, grabbed his head and proceeded to saw at his throat (knives are very dull here). Lots of blood came out and he went limp and that was that. I stepped off him, grabbed his legs and was carrying him over to Idah when he went crazy, flapping his wings and I dropped him. There were a lot of feathers, dust, gurgling noises and at one point he flopped his half sawed-off neck over my foot. Somehow I snapped out of my shock, pinned him again and finished the job. I must say he was delicious later that night.

After a relaxing Beatles and Burritos time back in Chipata we traversed our way to the valley for a chance to view the famous creatures of Africa in South Luangwa National Park. As I’ve experienced a peek into the local side of culture, heritage, history, development, and environmental issues, I failed to be the ideal tourist here thanks to the bittersweet complexities of human need and environmental strain with a little politics thrown in (is anything without?). Regardless of how I defined myself, the beasts were magnificent, the birds beautiful, the company delightful, and the experience sublime. My favorite animal (and the one I wanted most to see) was the giraffe. During the day we also saw: lions, elephants, hippos (in and out of the water), crocs (not the footwear), zebras, puku, impala, water buffalo, water buck, birds and birds, etc.

The game drive at night was interesting. We drank beers by the river as the sun sank beneath the smoky horizon. Then, they popped on the spotlight and we took off down dirt paths. It almost felt like I was back on the ranch driving around late at night to catch a glimpse of the shining eyes of raccoons, possums, owls, or coyotes. Only here we saw hyenas, lions, a civet, grazing hippos, and a leopard stalking impala. Once the leopard was spotted, 4 other vehicles drove up with their spotlights and the leopard lost its dinner. This I didn’t like so much. However, I guess the night drives are justified by the park closing at 8:00pm so that only 2 hours of the animals’ night are interrupted. Pristine environment competing against the desires of the curious human…in addition to the country’s need for the almighty dollar. At times I felt like we weren’t justified in our intrusion of the wild animals’ habitat. However, without the conservation money the tourism brings in, which funds the national park, a vast majority of the creatures would have been hunted down by now (so how “pristine” would have the ecosystem had actually been even without tourists?). But then this also conflicts with the health of the local people who have depended on these bush animals meat for centuries. Oh the complexities of the earth and its inhabitants.

No less are the complexities within the mind. My happy feelings towards this place/lifestyle suffered a minor blow when coming back from Germany. Hitting my one-year mark has taken me down another peg or two. Sorry if this next bit is a downer, I just want to be honest. How else can I expect understanding when I return to you? And its not that I'm unhappy either. Its just that the new car smell has worn off. I still enjoy the vehicle and the places it takes me and the things it shows me and the perpetual bend ahead that sustains the mystery.

When reflecting on the last year, I’ve come to realize the greatest sacrifice was/is the relationships I had with every person I knew before stepping onto that plane in DFW. With the free and decent internet now available at the provincial house, I have been able to begin reconnecting with some of you beautiful people. In fact, one of my dear friends asked me the other day if it helps or hurts being able to talk to and know what people are doing back home. I think it’s a mixture of both. It makes those relationships seem to have been somewhat maintained, but it also brings into better focus the massive distance between us. And not just the physical distance. I can find out about events in a persons life, but truly knowing a person requires more than just facts. People change: attitudes, beliefs, habits, preferences. I know I've changed just as everyone else has. Though, I don’t think I will realize the extent of it until I’m plopped back down into Texas (that faraway magical land of donuts and Dr. Pepper), back into the culture from which my own attitudes, beliefs, habits, and preferences were first developed. I’m already apprehensive about that transition and I’ve still got a year to go.

When I look at the one year I have remaining in Zambia it feels like so long. But when I look at the year I’ve just lived it feels like it happened so fast. I miss home and I long to be there, but I know once I am I will miss this place and certain things about this life. So I think it would be best to continue to immerse myself in the experiences and the life to be lived here while I’m here. Aware of it or not, with every decision in life there is an inevitable sacrifice.

Now, it’s story time:

On my way back to the village last month, I attended a 3 year-olds birthday party. Nobody in my village celebrates birthdays. However, I was in Chipata. My guess is they have more access to western culture and therefore regard birthday celebrations as a “sign-of-development.” The Zambian spin on certain customs familiar to you and me are pretty funny. Blue and pink toilet paper was used as crepe paper. My favorite Zambianized custom was the contents of the goodie-bags. In our culture, children find candy and cheap plastic toys. In Zambian culture one finds a small package of biscuits, 2 potatoes and a piece of chicken.

Now, how bout a story about Gooey Sana? Two weeks ago I was sittin on my couch, holdin her on my lap all content and peaceful when my father ran in and asked if I would bring her outside quickly. I wondered what the hell was going on that a grown man would need a little cat. When I got outside with her they showed me a deep plastic bucket with a cover on it and said there was a mouse inside and they wanted me to throw Gooey in to catch it. Really? So of course I agreed. But Gooey was getting scared of being confined in my arms with all the people around and she started to squirm, even scratching my arm a little. No matter. They opened the lid and I threw her in on top of the mouse which turned out to be quite large. Everyone jumped back as Gooey hit the bottom. She shot outta there like a cannon, knocking the bucket over in my direction! The mouse darted at me and I freaked out! I backpedaled a few steps and then turned to run. But before my eyes turned I saw one of my little brothers smash the mouse with a stick. Then a dog picked it up and ran off.

And I’ll leave you with a funny bedtime story. One for the kids. So there is a guesthouse we stay at in Lundazi. It’s quaint and affordable on our budget and the staff knows us by name, well, village name. The biggest plus is that they are one of the very few that do not have a noisy bar that bumps obnoxious music all night. What they do have is a small concrete fish pond. It’s about 2x4 meters and maybe ¾ of a meter deep. Awhile back, they decided to stock this “pond” with about 300 fingerlings (juvenile fish). This is really way too many fish for starters, but it was just ok. But then, they began to neglect adding water to the “pond” for several months. Scotty, Cherie and I walked over to it the other day to find the water level had dropped to about 4 inches and all of the fish were piping (when fish gulp the air due to a lack of oxygen in the water). And it smelled like shit. Upon closer examination we realized that the smell was, in fact, coming from floating chunks of human fecal matter. Cherie pulls the garden hose over and turns the water on. A few of the employees rush over to inform us that the chlorine in the tap water will surely kill the fish (hence the reason they had neglected to add water themselves for months). But I mean REALLY? 300 piping fish in 4 inches of turd-infested water and they are worried about a small amount of chlorine killing the fish?? Come on people. And we’re not sure if Lundazi even bothers to add chlorine to the tap water.

It’s the numerous stories like these that make this place frustrating, hysterical, and endearing all at the same time.

Hello ruby in the dust

Zambia since Germany. I knew I was back in Zambia when on the bus ride from Lusaka to Chipata I saw 2 herds of blue-butt monkeys playing in trees and then a little kid crapping in the ditch. I got to Chipata in time for provincials. We had some fun; dress up party and East Point Discotheque dancing. The next 3 weeks were spent in the village, during which time I started another women’s group, checked on some ponds, attended some agriculture shows, conducted HIV/AIDS sessions, worked with my local NGO and taught some women how to make onion rings. Oh and my last day there I went to a really interesting school event. All the area schools met and competed in traditional dance, choir, drama, and poetry. My sister, Idah, led the Phikamalaza choir and they won first advancing them to the District competition! She also won an individual first for best kapellmeister (thanks for that word Jim)!!!!

Readjustment back to village life was a bit slow. Can’t say it wasn’t a little mentally painful. It wasn’t the reduction of comfort and convenience that was difficult; more the loss of physical proximity to my family. It has also been a mental challenge to have tasted and been reminded of the life and lifestyle I used to have and what little regard I had for the everyday blessings. Zambia is still exciting and there are still some grand adventures to be had, yet it is not home. My head tried to make it, but my heart has overruled. It is the prairie to which I belong.

How about some cheerful news? I’m in Chipata for a workshop with the Department of Fisheries. I’m headed down to Chadiza to visit my ridiculous friend, Julie. I will celebrate the independence of my homeland along with Arianna’s birthday here at the house. Then, I’ll set off on an adventure with a friend from the island country from which my country won independence. Good thing he’s not coming a day earlier otherwise I’d be obliged to read him the Declaration of Independence. :) We are going to explore Victoria Falls, my village, and South Luangwa (the best game park in Zambia and possibly Africa). Sean, I’ll be able to fill that camera up to send back to you. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get a shot of one of those blue-butt monkeys for ya! At the end of this trip, I’ll be just days from my one-year anniversary of being in Zambia. My, how time flies.

The weather here has grown chilly. This is a new word I’ve taught my village. I don’t believe it is really cold as really cold goes. They certainly think it is and I’ll admit that the nights do reach cold levels, but the days are merely chilly at times. Sometimes it still gets pretty hot even, but I guess we are somewhat close to the equator. The wind has picked up quite a bit reminding me of west Texas...there's even lots of dust to boot! If only I had my boots...

I’d like to devote the rest of this space to wish my dear sister, Marcey, a magical birthday filled with the kind of fantastical adventures I know she can find in Berlin.

I would like you to dance - Birthday
Take a cha-cha-cha-chance - Birthday
I would like you to dance - Birthday
You say it's your birthday
Well it's my birthday too, yeah
You say it's your birthday
We're gonna have a good time
I'm glad it's your birthday
Happy birthday to you.
I love you, Bunny!

Booboo's Mama!

Tomorrow I'll miss you

I only have a few hours left in Germany. It has been quite a rollercoaster. Hanging out with the whole family was fantastic and beautiful and refreshing. Not sure what to report on the adjustment side of the trip. Landing in Frankfurt was emotional, but I still can't really explain. I wasn't sad, happy, fearful or really any one specific feeling....just somewhat overwhelmed.

I had a few days with just Marcey and Heather before the other 3 got here and let me tell you we hit the ground running. I had an epic first impression of Berlin and fell in love. Of course, with any place there are good and bad things, but I really like the feel of this city. I must thank Marcey's friends for the warm reception and their enthusiasm for showing me a grand time. Unsurprisingly Marcey has found genuine people who are each unique and possess the kind of spirit that makes you feel alive.

After Mom, Dad, and Tanner arrived we headed to Quedlinburg (where Heather studied abroad twice). It was a very cute and very historical little town. Beautiful houses and kind people. Her host family was so generous.

Back in Berlin we toured it up and celebrated Marcey's graduation! Oh her graduation day and night can only be described as magical. The photos are beyond hilarity. Which reminds me...I'm sorry for not posting new photos. I was too engaged in enjoying my time here, riding bicycles all over town, riding the U-bahn, eating deliciousness, sight-seeing, being ridiculous with the family, picnicking, sleeping in parks, dancing, and other nonsensical things. Maybe in a few more months (oh, but I did post a few for my undergraduate adviser...so enjoy those).

Now, I'm packing up and tying up loose ends. Marcey, Heather and I are going to enjoy a German brunch, then head to the airport.

Until we meet again in Afrika. Tchuess!

swaying daisies sing a lazy song beneath the sun

Think I’ll begin this blog with updates on organisms not found under the classification Homo sapien. The mama hippo, which lives in the small lake to the east of me, attacked a man who was illegally fishing at midnight. The area of the lake the man was fishing in is well known by all the villagers as the hippo’s territory. The man is still alive, though in the hospital. Riding my bicycle home from town one day, I stopped to talk to a friend traveling in the opposite direction. While we were talking, two men passed on bicycles headed in my direction. Both had big firearms strapped across their backs. This isn’t too unusual, especially since one had an automatic and this is what most military personnel carry, but the other man had a humongous rifle. It was the first rifle I have seen in this country. I noted it, but shrugged it off. After saying good-bye to my friend, I continued my ride home, cutting across a shortcut path through a small forested area. I came out on the feeder road to Phikamalaza and the two men were just ahead of me (they must have taken the long way). They were a bit too far ahead and a bit too speedy on their bikes so I couldn’t stop them. When I asked my villagers about these men I was told they were game rangers and had come to kill the mama hippo. I was a bit upset considering the circumstances (I mean, the man was illegally fishing in a notoriously dangerous area), but as of now they still have not shot the hippo and I think they have even left the area. That same week, two elephants passed less than a kilometer from my house. Yes. Two wild elephants left tracks in the sand and mud in the dambo (same as a draw) just a short walk to the northwest of where I was sleeping. I suggested to my village that maybe, just maybe the elephants were coming to rescue the hippo. I don’t think they believed me.
When I got home from my HIV/AIDS workshop I was told that a pig ate Blanco Pollo. It was a sad day. I was left with four orphan chicks. Then, a hawk picked one off. So I think I’m down to three, but I’m not really sure. However, the circle of life has blessed me with another hen (a gift from my mama’s brother’s second wife). Her name is Bubbles and she doesn’t seem to be very intelligent, even by chicken standards.
The kitties, Gooey Sana and Simon Says are doing fine, sans worms.
It’s sugar cane season.

Now for updates on the Homo sapiens whom I so love. My new baby brother was named after the late Agogo who died in January: Johnston Nyasulu. But the Agogo’s nickname was Scale so this is what everyone calls the baby too.
I am currently in Chipata helping the newest intake shop for their huts. It’s been quite a long few days, but they are all sweethearts and it’s been fun.
I will be reuniting with my dear biological family in LESS THAN 3 WEEKS!!!!! After this shopping adventure in Chipata, I’ll head back to site for a busy week already packed full of activities. Then, I’ll be truckin’ back down here for a Bob Marley festival. Then, scootin’ across the country to ol’ Lusaka. Theeeen, surfin’ the blue skies to zi fatherland (Germany), where I’ll be celebrating Marcey’s graduation from her school of governance in Berlin! Things I’m most excited about: my family, good sausage and even better beer, crazyfast internets (lots o’ photo uploads!), dance clubs, cheese, reliable transportation, reliable water, the ability to go out into public and be completely ignored and/or not stared or yelled at, and the freedom to show the world my whiter-than-a-fishbelly thighs, but most of all I’m excited about hugging my family.
Things I’m slightly apprehensive about: advertisements, pollution, noise (other than the calming effect of chicken squawking), bright lights = less stars, crowds of businessmen with briefcases, shiny objects, over-priced everything, and is there such a thing as over efficiency? If there is, I bet the Germans have mastered it and it will spin my head around. Regardless, I’d say the excitement blows the apprehension out of the water (the water which is currently refusing to flow out of the tap, thus preventing me from taking a much needed shower so that I can make it to my afternoon meeting smelling clean and fresh…Zambian efficiency at its best).

Work is going well. It is definitely picking up. I met with a fish farming group and will be conducting a training session for them on pond management next week.
I’ve been meeting with some active youth groups. At PEPFAR training we received a board game that educates the players about HIV/AIDS. It’s called Edukator. The youth really enjoy playing the game. I taught one youth group how to play Red Rover. They absolutely loved it, except they had a really difficult time pronouncing the name of the game and because this is essential to actually playing the game, we had to rename it with a Tumbuka word: “belelawela,” which means you come over here.

So I know I’ve mentioned before that Zambians interchange their “r’s” and “l’s” quite often. Some are easy to decipher: like cobla instead of cobra, Ellen instead of Erin, Bob Marrey instead of Bob Marley, led instead of red, geoglaphy, engrish, and the rist goes on. Fly and fry trip me up sometimes because they are both English words as do light and right. Some mix-ups are hilarious. Around election time it is really funny when a Zambian wants to talk to you about the “upcoming erections.” Jokes aside, I had my first slip-up the other day. I was discussing the cost of planks for making benches with someone and I said, “Well, how much for just one prank?”

Since arriving in Zambia, I have crocheted 31 beanies (I’ll finish #32 tonight and I have 2 others half finished as well), 4 scarves, and 1 handbag. Obviously, I have a lot of downtime, mostly on account of Zambian time-management skills.

Rainy season is petering out which is good because Simon Says likes to crawl around between the plastic lining and the grass of my roof and this has caused big holes to form where rain now leaks right over my bed.
Also, with the end of lainy season comes the beginning of cold season. I’m not rearry looking forward to it as central heating exists in none of the structures I frequent. But on the blight side, I’ll get to drink more hot chocorate. :)

All of you affiliated with schools, I wish you well during finals. All of you not affiliated with schools, count your blessings! The next time you’ll be hearing from me, I’ll be in Deutschland enjoying the lederhosen!

Typical

Life here is not without its frustrations. One thing that makes things more difficult is the effort required to do basic tasks. Marcey even observed that so much effort goes into everyday, yet so little seems to get done. For example, to travel down here to Chipata the distance is roughly 180km (approximately 110 miles): a distance that in America would most likely take less than 2 hours to cover. It took me over 5 ½ hours (after waiting 2 ½ hours for a ride)! Well, for one thing the road is complete shit so understandably the owner of the car I rode in cared enough about the vehicle to drive ridiculously slow. Then, we stopped a couple times to pick up other passengers, one of which, a lady headed to the hospital and to whom I got the distinct pleasure of being squished up next to, repeatedly threw up in her lap. Well, into her chitenje. Then, she would just ball up that part of the cloth and barf in the next section over. It would have been the most miserable ride had I not been in such a good mood. Why was I? Not really sure. Sometimes Zambia has a mysterious way of making you feel great. Maybe with all the frustration and dispair that can hang so heavy, the brain must just really latch onto the small pleasures scattered throughout each day. Or maybe its just that the situations you find yourself in would be considered so absurb to the person you once were, yet you find yourself void of any surprise. You really have no choice but to just accept the situation for what it is - not what your American brain thinks it should be - and go with it. Eventually, the absurd becomes the typical. Sometimes I wonder if I will be able to discern what is typical in American culture when I get back.

I stayed by myself in the huge provincial house last night. It was ok until the power went out when I was halfway through cooking supper. Luckily we recently purchased a gas powered stove so I was able to finish and eat. It was still pretty freaky. Especially when someone started banging on the gate. I closed myself in my room with 3 candles, a couple beers, and some music. After almost 2 hours the power came back on so I watched a movie, curled up on the couch with a blanket, a mountain of pillows, potato chips and cookies, I felt like a normal American.

So I must also tell you what happened last time I was in Chipata. Cherie, Ashley, Major, and I went to the East Point Discotheque to watch a popular Zambian pop musician perform. His name is Dandy Krazy (look him up. says he’s touring the U.S. maybe you can catch a show). It was quite a cultural experience, I must say. I’m not really even sure how to describe the event. Just know we had a GREAT time. At one point during a break, Cherie announces, “I’m gonna go meet Dandy.” And she just marches off towards the side stage. The rest of us look at each other, shrug, and follow her. We met them and talked awhile and exchanged numbers. Then, we danced on the stage a little. Went to the back club area and danced some more. A very nice, upstanding woman (most likely a prostitute or "sex worker" as is now pc) showed me how to dance like a Zambian. Then, at some unmentionable hour, we made our way back home and crashed. The next day, around lunch time Dandy called Ashley and brought his friends over for lunch. Ashley cooked some spectacular sima, soya, soupu, and chigwagwa. We hung out and talked to them for a few hours. The kraziest things happen here. Countless times have Cherie and I looked at each other and wondered: what the hell just happened?

I also have a new baby brother! Marcey, Anya Theo was pregnant! I had no idea until I got back from Malawi. She had the baby yesterday.

This is all I have energy for. good night and make nice dreams.