Ok. first things first. The Pirates are .500. The Pittsburgh Pirates, owners of 14 consecutive losing seasons are 10-10 at (very close to) the end of April. This isn't like me being excited when they started 2-0. This is a full of month of average (which is pretty stellar in the land of pittsburgh baseball) performance and yet another harbinger that this is indeed the year when we win 82 games. Glory glory glory. Part of me wonders if they knew i was coming to the internet and so they won those 4 straight games just for me, but the other part doesn't care. i love it no matter what... Go Buccos!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Anyways, i noticed that yesterday i was so concerned with telling you all about my different cultural problems and nostalgic remembrances that i completely forgot to convey the anecdotes for the first month of village life! How terrible of me. An update without anecdotes is like a trip to the ocean without body surfing. I, just like CNN, am vulnerable to the age old trap of only reporting the bad news, because that is first on everyone's mind. I guess these anecdotes could be considered not great news... but i hope they will at least elicit a chuckle or two from the audience.
1) "Maybe next time I'll walk"
ahh... the trip from the village to the BOMA. I was super excited about coming here to Mkushi and so i had little trouble waking up at 4am in order to make it to the market in time for the transport leaving. Transport generally leaves with the sunrise, so there is no exact time for when it takes off. So I woke up without problem. My bread which was to be my breakfast was covered in mold, but my dog Daisy wasn't going to get fed for a day or so while i was away, so that didn't bother me too much and i just gave it to her. The walk through the 6 km of woodlands in the pitch dark (for much of it) was the first slightly uncomfortable experience. I had only my head lamp and i kept hearing things (probably just lizards, but small velociraptors in my imagination) moving through the bush. Then my headlamp would occasionally flicker and catch the glare of some creature in the forest looking at me. yikes. But the sun started to rise when i was about 1km away and with it so did my spirits.
I arrived at the market at about 5:45am. There was a minibus waiting for me there and i was excited. After I woke the driver (ha) him and the conductor started getting everything ready and i was hopeful for a quick departure. In the meantime 2 other vehicles had arrived and moved on, after the conductor of the minibus informed them in no uncertain terms that i was traveling with them. I didn't mind this much at first, because i was assuming we were leaving soon. But instead we proceeded to sit around doing nothing in particular for about 45 minutes. I am mostly keeping my zen at this point until we are about to leave and the driver announces that he just decided he needed to change the front tire! after we had been sitting twiddling our thumbs for about 40 minutes, NOW he notices that the tire needs changed. So he does that (and faster than any Triple A driver ever could... i have a feeling he has a lot of practice) and we move on our way. Great! except that we stop every 5-15 minutes at some tiny market or another to pick up ground nuts or empty coke bottles or more passengers and each and every time we stay and chat with whomever is around for an extra 20 minutes. At this time the minibus is packed full. There are 3 other people with me on our 2 person seat and my foot area is taken by a 50kg bag of ground nuts. fantastic. This continues on until I finally come to my stop in Mpula, 3.5 hours covering 1 hour worth of distance. As I am getting off, another minibus is pulling up to take me to Mkushi! cheers and jubilation's!! except that minibus is determined to make the entire trip at 55kph, roughly half the speed of all other traffic. At one point the driver pulled over onto the side of the road and took off his button down shirt and jeans to reveal a different complete outfit underneath. More stopping. more chatting. More gnashing of my teeth. Then finally finally we come to the mkushi turn off and as he stops i am leaping out the window (easier than crawling over the 4 people b/n me and the door.) and running towards the turn off, where i got a ride into mkushi in a car that had run out of gas, but that was coasting very effectively down the gentle slope towards town. I arrived at 11:30. Distance traveled: 80km. Time of travel: 7 hours and change... yikes.
Ahhh... I really want to tell you about the impashi (the fire ants of africa) and how then invaded my house one night and i spent an hour in flip flops, boxers and a headlamp sweeping the godforsaken ants out of my house. I also want to tell you about my second day at the village when i went exploring for the path to my mountain and i found a crocodile instead. A small one... but still a crocodile. (the "steve" in the subject was referring to the late great steve irwin.) But again there is a really long line behind me and i just can't get over the feelings of guilt and i need to let some one else use the computer. I will stop by as i am heading out to get my ride, and perhaps try to tell another story.
But i just wanted you to know, that even though i whine about cultural issues there is so much more good than bad and i am happy where i am.
please write and i love love love you all...
p.s. i now know how to jump start a vehicle... about 1/2 of the vehicles i travel in make use of this method of ignition... what wonderful knowledge to have :)
Friday, April 27, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Hot Showers and Chicken.
Ahh... These are the luxuries of life.
Well, I can certainly say that Zambia rarely fails to keep you on your toes. I have spent the last day and change in Mkushi, the closest thing to a modern city near me (80km away) with all the wonderful amenities I could hope for including a hot shower, eating meat, drinking a cold beverage (i don't mean to imply any particular sort of beverage... but nothing is cold in the village.... there is lukewarm, tepid, and "i've been sitting on the floor in the corner of the hut for three days and hence am moderately cool"), and of course, using the internet.
But then, after my 7 hour, 80km journey (more on that later), I find that the power for the entire town is out. When returned to town from the lodge this morning we found that the power was still out, but that the store with the (singular) computer in the town had managed to obtain a generator. Being that this is my only opportunity to use the internet since the beginning of april and until the middle of march, this was the cause for much rejoicing. First I had to visit immigration b/c the government is taking its time in providing me with a permanent work permit and my temporary one expired today and, to tell the truth, i am not terribly fond of the idea of being deported. After immigration we (a fellow PCV emily and I) returned to the internet. She went first because she had to leave, whereas i am staying an extra night here. I managed to stay patient as she typed for 2 hours because, i reasoned, I would have plenty of time to not only read emails and update this blog, but also to catch up on sports news! Woohoo sports news! However I had been on the computer for 20 minutes when the owner approached me and informed me that the generator was being removed and I would have to finish up within 5 minutes. OH NO!! I signed off, feeling very remorseful that I would not be able to provide updates for another 3 weeks. But then, as I was moving to the counter to pay.... the power came back on! So here I am telling you all about the wonderful unpredictability of life in Zambia.
Now... on to the actual meat of the update. Most of you have not really heard from me since before I was posted in the beginning of April. I am living in a small village called Chikupili in Mkushi district in central province in zambia. I am about 15km east of the Mita Hills dam, which is a large man made body of water south of the mkushi boma (city... a leftover from the colonial days: "Brittish Overseas Management Area"). I am the only foreigner for about 30 km. I am living in a small mud hut that is about 7 paces by 4 paces. I have a large insaka (an open air kitchen/pavilion type thing with a grass roof, and my own bathing shelter and icimbusu (pit latrine). My hut is about 30m away from my "family"s. I have four mango trees (i can't wait until mango season!) and a moderate size wooded area immediately around me. I am please with the trees, although the villagers in my area have a distinct knack for turning forests into fields, so I am not sure how permanent this scenery will be. I am about a 15 minute walk from Katukutu, which is a startling mass of rock that juts apparently out of nowhere on an otherwise mostly flat landscape. It is roughly 180m tall, and i climb it most days due to the exercise, the beautiful view (watching the sun set over mita hills dam is wonderful), and the fact that I get cell phone reception no where else.
My family consists of my Ba Maayo (mother), ba tata(father), and three boys: Kazito (18 and maayo's youngest son), Junior (15 and her oldest grandson), and john (12 or 13). MY bataata however, has been at their house in kabwe and hasn't been around since i arrived 3+weeks ago. This is a little awkward, because he is the one that provides the money for things like grinding corn for mealie meal to make nshima and paying for other food items. So at times, my family is struggling to find food everyday... which is horribly rough on me because i have plenty of food, but i am not in a position to (nor should i attempt) feed my family in my father's absence. What has generally been happening as a result of this is that I eat every night with my family. They provide most of the meal from whatever they have harvested from their fields and then I provide whatever they cannot find in the fields, for example tomatoes, cooking oil, or even a little money to grind corn. This has turned out to be a very good compromise and it fails to start the dangerous precedent of giving lots of money/food to my family.
My family is super super nice. Ba maayo is always trying to help me and make sure I am comfortable. Junior is my saving grace. He helps me figure out how to find places, how to do various tasks, and is becoming my Bemba coach. My bemba is coming along well, although every thing i learn seems to illustrate just how much i don't know and don't understand.
I have been doing about average when it comes to adapting to the new culture. I am very good at greeting and talking to people. But what I should be doing is biking around my village, getting lost on the bush paths and trying to get to know the area and meet as many people as I can. This is very important in having the villagers come to trust me. but i am having a lot of difficulty motivating myself to get up and do it. it is certainly not from lack of free time, just an uneasiness about being lost out in the bush where all paths look the same and the directions from locals tend to follow the vein of "go straight for a bit and then turn at the tree."
My other main issue as far as adapting culturally is the sense of communal ownership prevailing in the village and in Zambia in general. Stealing from Don Quijote who was, I believe, stealing from the journal of a 16th century Spanish Conquistador, the people here have little concept of "mine and thine" and instead there is only "ours." It is simply expected that you share what you have. The above paragraph, where I described the food situation, probably would not make much sense to my family if they read it. Their viewpoint is more likely to be of the trend that "We have nshima and vegetable and Ted doesn't, so we share. Ted has cooking oil, and we are short right now, so we share."
This is, all and all, a great way of looking at material possessions, but I am having a significant amount of trouble adjusting my american viewpoint of personal possession. For example, often times when I am cooking my lunch, some one will approach me and just sit down. We sit in mostly silence for however long it takes me to finish cooking (sometimes up to an hour) and then they watch me eat. then when I finish, they leave. Now, culturally speaking i should really give some of my food to anyone who happens to be around when i am cooking. But at times I feel very irritated at a person seeing that i am cooking and just expecting me to feed them. I have more than sufficient means to feed myself, but no where near sufficient means to feed the village.
One of the most difficult things for me occurs when my family asks me for something like medicine. There is no (or very little) medicine at the clinic, and my Ba Maayo has her share of health problems. I am not allowed by peace corps to give out any medicine. The medicine they provide is for the two years I am here in Zambia and I simply am not able to be supplying my family with medicine whenever there muscles hurt. But they still come and ask it, and I have a terribly hard time saying no. The situation is also complicated by the fact that i believe the previous volunteer had been giving them medicine on a fairly regular basis.
I have had precious little work to do yet. The Zambian education system runs on three 3 month terms with month long vacations in april, august and december. therefore... no one is at any of the schools that i will be working with. This has led to an extreme amount of free time. I have spent a lot of time learning how to do basic daily activities, and a lot of time reading. I am hoping that work picks up considerably once school starts in may, because with all the free time I have too much time to feel lonely or to miss friends, family, and the availability of lunch meat and cheese.
I am still a little uncertain about exactly what i will be doing. I will be serving as a link between the community (non state sponsored) schools and the government Ministry of Education. I will also be working with the government schools to help organize and facilitate training sessions and to perhaps help them begin income generating activities to provide them with a sustainable way to make money to pay for improvements to the school and perhaps to provide more services.
Now... this is what i am supposed to be doing. What i will actually be doing might be considerably different. So far, to keep myself busy I have built a compost pile and am working on starting a garden so i can have the vegetables that can't be bought in the market. But we will see.
I am sorry.. I would like to write more, but there is a line for the computer i have been hogging for 1.5 hours and i am feeling terribly guilty. I will be briefly back in town tomorrow before i return to the village, and i will try to include anything i forgot.
For now let me say that i love the emails and letters i have received so far. Reading letters from home is one of the things that never fails to bring a smile to my face, no matter what my mood. So please keep them coming. things here are far more good than bad, and i am sorry if i have come off a bit negative. I love you all. very very much. and i hope to hear from you soon!!!
Well, I can certainly say that Zambia rarely fails to keep you on your toes. I have spent the last day and change in Mkushi, the closest thing to a modern city near me (80km away) with all the wonderful amenities I could hope for including a hot shower, eating meat, drinking a cold beverage (i don't mean to imply any particular sort of beverage... but nothing is cold in the village.... there is lukewarm, tepid, and "i've been sitting on the floor in the corner of the hut for three days and hence am moderately cool"), and of course, using the internet.
But then, after my 7 hour, 80km journey (more on that later), I find that the power for the entire town is out. When returned to town from the lodge this morning we found that the power was still out, but that the store with the (singular) computer in the town had managed to obtain a generator. Being that this is my only opportunity to use the internet since the beginning of april and until the middle of march, this was the cause for much rejoicing. First I had to visit immigration b/c the government is taking its time in providing me with a permanent work permit and my temporary one expired today and, to tell the truth, i am not terribly fond of the idea of being deported. After immigration we (a fellow PCV emily and I) returned to the internet. She went first because she had to leave, whereas i am staying an extra night here. I managed to stay patient as she typed for 2 hours because, i reasoned, I would have plenty of time to not only read emails and update this blog, but also to catch up on sports news! Woohoo sports news! However I had been on the computer for 20 minutes when the owner approached me and informed me that the generator was being removed and I would have to finish up within 5 minutes. OH NO!! I signed off, feeling very remorseful that I would not be able to provide updates for another 3 weeks. But then, as I was moving to the counter to pay.... the power came back on! So here I am telling you all about the wonderful unpredictability of life in Zambia.
Now... on to the actual meat of the update. Most of you have not really heard from me since before I was posted in the beginning of April. I am living in a small village called Chikupili in Mkushi district in central province in zambia. I am about 15km east of the Mita Hills dam, which is a large man made body of water south of the mkushi boma (city... a leftover from the colonial days: "Brittish Overseas Management Area"). I am the only foreigner for about 30 km. I am living in a small mud hut that is about 7 paces by 4 paces. I have a large insaka (an open air kitchen/pavilion type thing with a grass roof, and my own bathing shelter and icimbusu (pit latrine). My hut is about 30m away from my "family"s. I have four mango trees (i can't wait until mango season!) and a moderate size wooded area immediately around me. I am please with the trees, although the villagers in my area have a distinct knack for turning forests into fields, so I am not sure how permanent this scenery will be. I am about a 15 minute walk from Katukutu, which is a startling mass of rock that juts apparently out of nowhere on an otherwise mostly flat landscape. It is roughly 180m tall, and i climb it most days due to the exercise, the beautiful view (watching the sun set over mita hills dam is wonderful), and the fact that I get cell phone reception no where else.
My family consists of my Ba Maayo (mother), ba tata(father), and three boys: Kazito (18 and maayo's youngest son), Junior (15 and her oldest grandson), and john (12 or 13). MY bataata however, has been at their house in kabwe and hasn't been around since i arrived 3+weeks ago. This is a little awkward, because he is the one that provides the money for things like grinding corn for mealie meal to make nshima and paying for other food items. So at times, my family is struggling to find food everyday... which is horribly rough on me because i have plenty of food, but i am not in a position to (nor should i attempt) feed my family in my father's absence. What has generally been happening as a result of this is that I eat every night with my family. They provide most of the meal from whatever they have harvested from their fields and then I provide whatever they cannot find in the fields, for example tomatoes, cooking oil, or even a little money to grind corn. This has turned out to be a very good compromise and it fails to start the dangerous precedent of giving lots of money/food to my family.
My family is super super nice. Ba maayo is always trying to help me and make sure I am comfortable. Junior is my saving grace. He helps me figure out how to find places, how to do various tasks, and is becoming my Bemba coach. My bemba is coming along well, although every thing i learn seems to illustrate just how much i don't know and don't understand.
I have been doing about average when it comes to adapting to the new culture. I am very good at greeting and talking to people. But what I should be doing is biking around my village, getting lost on the bush paths and trying to get to know the area and meet as many people as I can. This is very important in having the villagers come to trust me. but i am having a lot of difficulty motivating myself to get up and do it. it is certainly not from lack of free time, just an uneasiness about being lost out in the bush where all paths look the same and the directions from locals tend to follow the vein of "go straight for a bit and then turn at the tree."
My other main issue as far as adapting culturally is the sense of communal ownership prevailing in the village and in Zambia in general. Stealing from Don Quijote who was, I believe, stealing from the journal of a 16th century Spanish Conquistador, the people here have little concept of "mine and thine" and instead there is only "ours." It is simply expected that you share what you have. The above paragraph, where I described the food situation, probably would not make much sense to my family if they read it. Their viewpoint is more likely to be of the trend that "We have nshima and vegetable and Ted doesn't, so we share. Ted has cooking oil, and we are short right now, so we share."
This is, all and all, a great way of looking at material possessions, but I am having a significant amount of trouble adjusting my american viewpoint of personal possession. For example, often times when I am cooking my lunch, some one will approach me and just sit down. We sit in mostly silence for however long it takes me to finish cooking (sometimes up to an hour) and then they watch me eat. then when I finish, they leave. Now, culturally speaking i should really give some of my food to anyone who happens to be around when i am cooking. But at times I feel very irritated at a person seeing that i am cooking and just expecting me to feed them. I have more than sufficient means to feed myself, but no where near sufficient means to feed the village.
One of the most difficult things for me occurs when my family asks me for something like medicine. There is no (or very little) medicine at the clinic, and my Ba Maayo has her share of health problems. I am not allowed by peace corps to give out any medicine. The medicine they provide is for the two years I am here in Zambia and I simply am not able to be supplying my family with medicine whenever there muscles hurt. But they still come and ask it, and I have a terribly hard time saying no. The situation is also complicated by the fact that i believe the previous volunteer had been giving them medicine on a fairly regular basis.
I have had precious little work to do yet. The Zambian education system runs on three 3 month terms with month long vacations in april, august and december. therefore... no one is at any of the schools that i will be working with. This has led to an extreme amount of free time. I have spent a lot of time learning how to do basic daily activities, and a lot of time reading. I am hoping that work picks up considerably once school starts in may, because with all the free time I have too much time to feel lonely or to miss friends, family, and the availability of lunch meat and cheese.
I am still a little uncertain about exactly what i will be doing. I will be serving as a link between the community (non state sponsored) schools and the government Ministry of Education. I will also be working with the government schools to help organize and facilitate training sessions and to perhaps help them begin income generating activities to provide them with a sustainable way to make money to pay for improvements to the school and perhaps to provide more services.
Now... this is what i am supposed to be doing. What i will actually be doing might be considerably different. So far, to keep myself busy I have built a compost pile and am working on starting a garden so i can have the vegetables that can't be bought in the market. But we will see.
I am sorry.. I would like to write more, but there is a line for the computer i have been hogging for 1.5 hours and i am feeling terribly guilty. I will be briefly back in town tomorrow before i return to the village, and i will try to include anything i forgot.
For now let me say that i love the emails and letters i have received so far. Reading letters from home is one of the things that never fails to bring a smile to my face, no matter what my mood. So please keep them coming. things here are far more good than bad, and i am sorry if i have come off a bit negative. I love you all. very very much. and i hope to hear from you soon!!!
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