Zambia Through the Senses

Gina's Post:

We have officially been in Zambia for a little over three weeks and have experienced so many different sights, sounds, and feelings since coming here.  Scott and I have been staying in Chongwe until two days ago when he went to Chipembwe to start with his fish farming training.  We were issued mountain bikes and have been navigating dirt roads to language sites, our homestay family, and “school”.  “School” consists of morning language classes in small groups and either large or small groups where I learn what health care needs are prioritized in Zambia and what we are expected to do as healthcare volunteers.  For the most part, the instruction has been very informative, and hopefully I’ll do well on my first Lunda language simulation this Monday.

Although training is just 40 minutes from Lusaka, it seems worlds away as the houses are made of mud brick s (including mine!), none have running water, and very few have electricity, which for all of its downfalls does tend to invoke dancing and games at night as there is not a television to watch.  My host family consists of a 52 year-old widow named Annie who has 8 children between the ages of 8 and 36 (yes, it is humanly possible)!  Affectionately known as “Amaama” she is a strong, kind-hearted African woman with an amazing belly laugh.  Although she has hosted 11 other Peace Corps volunteers, she speaks almost no English, which is great practice for me!  I have nothing but respect and admiration as she keeps a positive attitude throughout her daily activities, which include: fetching water by hand, doing laundry by hand in buckets with the water fetched from the bore hole, cooking meals in a round room over a 3-log fire, sweeping red dirt away from the houses and into the surrounding bush several times per day, caring for her young grandchildren and one son with severe CP, doing dishes in buckets, and maintaining Peace Corps such as Scott and myself by making sure we have boiled drinking  and bathwater, good food, and clean clothes.  Although it seems like glorified camping at  first, the reality of Zambian rural living has set in for me and now I realize why health problems are prevalent and life expectancy is short; just everyday living takes so much time!  Despite her long days, Annie loves to laugh and has a beautiful singing voice.

I have settled into a nice little routine here, and at some times can’t believe I’ve only been taking bucket baths and sleeping in a mud hut for two weeks.  Because I’m worried that the novel may soon become mundane, I’d like to highlight my Zambian experience up to now through the five senses:

1) Sights

- Women with brightly-colored chitenge cloth skirts wrapped around their waists, normally carrying something on their head and sometimes a baby on their back

- A handful of chickens that somehow strategically climb the mango tree 10-12 feet to roost and peer at me as I take my bucket bath in the thatch-walled outdoor bathing shelter

- A blood-orange sun poking out over rolling hills of bushes and fruit trees at sunrise and sunset

- The orange glow on the horizon as fields and trees burning in the distance to clear for the next planting season

- Bright star constellations when there is no moon, moon shadows when there is just half a moon, and a full-on spotlight when the moon is full

- Any type of farm animal you could imagine walking nonchalantly just feet away from our class, including baby piglets, cows with bells, goats, pigs, and chickens everywhere.  Fencing doesn’t seem to be an issue as they graze on whatever they can find.

- A panorama of mud huts and thatched roofs interspersed through windy dirt roads that sometimes makes me feel like I’m in a movie set.

2) Sounds

- Motor bikes and diesel trucks rumbling over the nearby dirt road

- Zam-pop blaring through speakers noon to midnight with the occasional drunk stumbling past my front door (interesting how the houses don’t have power but the bars sure do).

- Political songs and slogans and busloads of people rallying with drums preparing for the September 20^th presidential election—this one may need its own blog post

- Children laughing and women chattering

- Dogs barking in the wee hours of the morning, stray cats mating, and roosters foreshadowing the daytime starting at midnight.

- Dried maize kernels being sifted, sorted and dumped by hand in preparation to sell to the government

- A capella choirs resonating like angelic voices in a concrete church on Sunday

- Termites chewing on the reed mat where my mattress lies—okay, some things I may NEVER get used to.

- The friendly Nyanja greeting Muli Bwanji! Whenever I bike or walk past people walking down the road.

3) Smells

- Smoke from burning both organic and non-organic trash as there is no garbage service around these parts

- Fresh dust spewed up from cars whizzing by on the road

- The fragrant little white flower buds on some of the trees that I can only hope will be mangoes after the rains come.

- Freshly hand-washed, sun-dried clothes

- Surprisingly the pit latrine doesn’t smell too bad as Amaama pours ashes from the cooking fire down it every day

4) Tastes

- Dust from the road when a car whizzes by my mountain bike on my way to school.

- Peanut butter on everything that is a breakfast food, including bananas, fritters, porridge and bread

- Nshima, the Zambian staple, which is eaten at every meal.  Imagine grits cooked up and stirred to mashed potato consistency and served two of the following relishes, cooked in oil and salt: eggs, dried fish, chicken, soy bits, cabbage, beans, rape (similar to Chinese cabbage), cabbage, tomato stew.  Doesn’t sound too appealing at first, but all of the above foods I actually now enjoy.

5) Physical Sensations

- Warm bucket bathwater on a crisp evening.  Yes, it has been a bit chilly at night as we are in the middle of winter and at about 4,000 feet.  My synthetic down jacket has come to good use as I can see my breath most nights.

- Playing barefoot soccer on the dirt with a bunch of kids using a ball made of plastic bags and rope

- The sun beating down just right on my hat during outdoor language sessions.

- The squish squish of soap on clothes which indicates they are being properly washed by hand, as the village kids let us know!

- Rolling nshima into a ball with my right hand, pressing a dent in the center to make a spoon, and then picking up the relish with your little dough ball.  I have yet to see a fork at Amaama Annie’s house.

- Flying by on a brand new front-suspension Trek mountain bike (thanks Peace Corps!) on curvy, smooth, sandy and bumpy bush trails on our way to school.

Signing off for the next month of so as internet access only comes with a special visit to Lusaka.  Keep in touch via snail mail address to the right.

Shalenuhu!

Scott and Gina