Mom's Visit: Livingstone & Botswana

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At home in Sazende Village

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I have spent many an hour uploading some pics, so I hope you enjoy:

Kashima West:

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Solwezi, "Where it's all happening":

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and

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Some Old, Some New:

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Camp GLOW:

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I would love to post a bunch of short video clips I have, but I don't think the connection is fast enough for that . . . but one day, maybe.

The past month went by pretty fast considering I was in the village by myself for a longer stretch than any I had previously endured. I kept myself pretty busy at the school, attempting to have meetings, reminding the ZIP about our monitoring commitments, obsessively planning for the next year and a half, and more importantly, trying to control my frustration over how long it takes to complete simple tasks and how different Zambians and Americans are when it comes to work.

First, let me say, I really love the teachers at Kashima. They are pretty great considering all the obstacles they have in front of them. Never-the-less, I get really frustrated with the lack of, what I consider to be, a real “work ethic” present in these rural areas. Of course, I realize that this is a cultural difference; especially in regards to how we prioritize. I don’t mean to say that they are lazy people; they have more physical demands on them than most, and have to do things (like fetch water and cultivate) that people in the states don’t have to think about. However, their concept of a professional working environment, & really, the best way to describe it is work ethic, is very different from mine. They don’t have the same sense of responsibility or the desire to do the best job they can possibly do. . . the idea that what they do (or don’t do) has a major impact on the children they teach doesn’t seem to connect in the same way that it resonates with the teachers I know in the states.

The positive side of this approach is that they take the time to sit and be with each other. Even when there is an important meeting to go to, friends and family come first; you should never run off on someone saying you are late, but should greet them & ask about how they are, regardless of other commitments. People are relaxed because time isn’t strictly observed as it is in the States. Part of me feels that they have it right – after all, what’s more important, spending time with people or at your job? I hate that in the U.S. “time is money” and that we often choose work over our families and such. But, there has got to be some middle ground!!!

The teachers here complain about their job; saying they are being overworked & are understaffed &, “how are they supposed to teach in these conditions.” While I understand the frustrations of “living in the bush” without proper infrastructure and without the ease of fast communication and access to banks, shops, running water, etc., I don’t think it entitles them to sit around and mope until they get transferred. Teachers in the rural areas take advantage of the fact that the people from the MOE don’t come out to monitor regularly, and therefore, don’t hold themselves to the same standards as would be required in the towns. In reality, a lot of them are only teaching for 3-5 hrs! Plus, they live on the school compound, so they are always drifting out of the classroom and to their homes to greet visitors or prepare n-shima, and, they are famous for going to town to get money and staying for a week. I keep telling them that the most important thing in teaching is not infrastructure/ materials (yes they are very important and I know teacher satisfaction leads to better quality teaching) but, even before that, there needs to be a teacher and a learner present. Even if we have the best facilities, it won’t change pupil’s results unless we can have both the teacher and learner present at all times . . . otherwise we’ll just have teachers hanging out in a lounge and kids outside playing!

I never realized just how American I am in regards to work until coming here. I get so irritated by people who aren’t “serious” when it comes to their job. Especially when it comes to education! I don’t understand their defeatist attitudes. I know that kids don’t come to school regularly. . .I am well aware that the community is not super supportive of education. . .I know they don’t have the best materials to teach with . . . but, they tend only to look at the problems and not try to find solutions themselves. They are all very smart and resourceful people, and yet, the whole teaching atmosphere becomes unconstructive when one teacher is negative or negligent. I wish that they would think of creative solutions rather then just give up – saying this is just the way things are.

I think I need to focus on motivating the teachers – I’ve come to realize that many of them don’t think there job is very important since it is a job that you don’t need to have attained as high marks for as others require. This is especially true of the primary school teachers; they don’t seem to understand how important their job is – how the pupils need to have a strong foundation. The teachers and classes don’t seem to get serious until high school and, by then, you have classes full of pupils who were just passed along for the sake of ease and numbers. One of the H.S. teachers told me that there are some in grade 10 that are unable to copy English off of the board. Copy.

I think one of the main problems seems to be the way the curriculum/assessment is arranged. They don’t have a lot of continual assessment in the basic schools, so the students keep progressing grades without actually progressing academically. The first real exams are given in grade 7 and, from what I hear, a lot of times the teachers just read off the answers to the kids. They are then tested again in grade 9 to move to high school and they have a major exam in grade 12, which pretty much determines their future. (But, like I keep telling them, I would probably fail if I had to remember everything I learned in High School – taking an exam on biology, chemistry, and physics at the same time, yikes!)

Anyways, I’m rambling. What I am trying to say is that I have a hard time balancing my desire to be friends with the teachers and my desire to see the quality of education at my schools improve . . . I need to have a professional relationship in which I can offer constructive criticism. I just wish they had the same work environment where you can hash things out in the office and then hang out after work; but, everything is about protocol and appeasing your boss. I always end up complaining to the headmaster about the “lack of seriousness,” because I feel like it is his job to keep the teachers in line and not mine. I find myself fighting the urge to yell at him, telling him that in America people work 8 hrs minimum a day. Minimum. Plus, you have to add in time spent on commuting and (especially for teachers) all the work they do before and after class. . . agghhh. I just wish they would make me the headmaster!

As I mentioned earlier, the ZIP (zonal inset coordinator) and I have been trying to complete our termly monitoring report. I am very lucky, in that, I love my ZIP; she is young, intelligent, energetic and just fun to be around! Yet, she is very forgetful and not the biggest fan of cycling, so it has been a challenge to say the least. In the schools we did make it to, our reports have not been so positive. We have been focusing our attention on literacy programs, and basically, have observed that the students can’t read – or at least not at the level they should be at.

I could go on forever about this stuff – I feel like I can pretty much pinpoint the main problems with the education system in rural Zambia, but I don’t know how to fix them from the grassroots level – and yet, part of the solution does need to come from sensitization to communities.

Anyways, we are hoping that, in building a library, we can really encourage the kids by showing them how much you can learn from books and how much fun you can have . . . basically, try to create a reading culture. Also, we were talking about getting a TV/VCR (& solar panels) so that we could have a kids corner where we can show kids education videos (like sesame street and stuff) since they are so fascinated by anything audio/visual. Also, by opening it up to the whole community and offering adult literacy lessons, we are hoping that the community will start to realize the need for and benefit of a “western” education. (Of course this is all hypothetical – we’ll see if it happens, I am currently looking up some organizations recommended from the H.S. Head that fund educational projects, but am having trouble with the internet and finding applications/requirements.

Although I have felt like life was pretty routine this month– a nice feeling—there were also several firsts. For starters, I got to name my first baby; its so weird, but a lot of villagers just love to get names from ‘the whites’. . . so, this random little child that I never even saw and lives in Heather’s village is now named Patrick, after my brother J

I had my first & second “dinner parties” – meaning, I had some teachers come over and sit on the floor while I attempted to cook some pretty elaborate meals (homemade spaghetti sauce & garlic bread one night and an Indian curry, lentils, and naan the next) over a fire with only 1 pot and 1 pan.

I got invited to my first Kitchen Party (sort of like a bridal shower, but much more entertaining from what I hear). I’ve become pretty good friends with two of the High School teachers who I usually visit with everyday (they have to live in an office in the school since there aren’t enough teachers’ houses), so they want me to come with them to Kitwe to a friend’s party. They are both great; one is from the Copperbelt and one is from central/Lusaka, so I tend to have a lot more in common with them, or at least they understand me better than most.

I also, probably for the 1st time in my life, cancelled a vacation so that I could stay and “work.” I think this shows how much I am enjoying my new home and also, my fear that, the moment I leave, everything I have been working on will fall apart. Instead, I decided to stay around so that I could help in celebrating my 1st Zambian Independence Day with my village.

School was cancelled for almost the entire week so that the kids could prepare for their various activities—the idea of working after school/work is just not fathomable. Previously, I had asked the teachers if they could show me how to make a traditional outfit worn by girls when they dance for kysungu, because I want to dress up like them for our Halloween party. They were all very excited by this and decided that I would have to be a part of the “culture” activities, so that I could learn to dance properly. At first, I was all for this – I would love to learn to dance like them . . . but then, they called me out for practice and there was a huge group of people forming a big circle all wanting to watch me! I said I had to be shown what to do and so they had some young (like 7 yr old) girls go first. The can move their hips & butt in ways that don’t make sense. It really is like it is disconnected from the rest of their body – anyways, I chickened out because I couldn’t handle them all starring at me and laughing at my pathetic attempts . . . so, I told them I will be in training for next year’s festivities.

On Independence Eve, some kids came to escort me over to the school so we could begin celebrating. The teachers brought out their solar-charged car batteries and boom boxes so we could have some music. I was immediately attacked by a pack of little girls who all decided they all wanted to be my best friend and were fighting with each other over who got to hold my hand and drag me around . . . they kept forming ‘the dance circle’ around me and making me dance in the middle. They were cheering so loudly that almost everyone stopped dancing just so they could watch me – A.) I can’t dance B.) I hate being the center of attention . . .and yet, it just doesn’t seem to matter here. Anyways, around 21hrs, they made all the teachers (and me) dance to “Mama let’s go,” officially opening the nights festivities. Afterwards, we all watched some dramas, pupils dancing to ramba music, and then, some traditional dancing and drumming. It was supposed to go until midnight, but around 23hrs, the lighting & thunder started & wind started to pick up, so I decided to head back to my hut, and made it just before it started to pour.

The next morning, two of the teachers came by to plate my hair and look through some of the things I have that could be used as “prizes” for the participants – I should have known, but somehow they managed to keep them “for the school” and/ or themselves and their own kids L The rest of the day was filled with activities: choir, poetry, dramas, a fashion show, a drinking competition, football, and, as always, lots and lots of dancing. I won’t bother to go into details; you just have to see the dancing and hear the music to appreciate it. . .

The whole day was a lot of fun and, even though I was sad to miss out on swimming in a beautiful lake and drinking with friends, I am glad I stayed. I think it meant a lot to my community to have me there enjoying & participating in such an important day.

The next day, I attended my first village funeral; it was interesting to observe but also very sad. While it was a real contrast from the atmosphere of the previous day’s celebration, the mourning was just as communal. A young woman, who had apparently been sick for several months, passed, and even though most people didn’t know her personally, it is costume for everyone in the village to attend. As soon as someone dies, the community members gather to have a vigil outside the home of the deceased until the body is buried – even spending the night outside – the men pray, the women wail, and people sing praises to God. It’s a really beautiful tradition. . .The only bad thing is that since death is such a normal part of their life, things are always being cancelled on account of funerals . . . so its hard to get work done.

I followed a crowd of people to the home of the girl, and found about 200 people sitting around the family’s compound. I really didn’t know what to do, but luckily, my teacher friends came and got me to come and sit with them. The men all sat on one side, and women on the other. Just outside the house, some women sat moaning in prayer – occasionally, one would stand up and wail towards the sky – the sound is really indescribable – it’s sort of this mix between a yell of agony and a song. Meanwhile, the church choir was inside with the body, singing and drumming and the rest of us sat in silence – showing our respect and shared grief as a community.

I left with the teachers who said we would come back when the coffin was finished – the men were off in the bush making it. About an hour later, they came to get me, and we then walked with what seemed like the whole village down the road to the graveyard. We sat down in the woods and a pastor read some bible verses in Kikaonde & then people sang hymns as various members of the family/community came to cover the coffin with the red earth and place flowers atop the grave. At one point, someone started yelling the name of the girl and then came running and jumped into the hole! It was rather disturbing & sad . . . but bordering on funny . . .

After the burial, we all walked back to the family’s home & without giving me any warning, the teachers led me right inside the home of the deceased and sat down. I didn’t know what to do – it felt like I was intruding on a very personal moment, but I guess, according to African culture, you don’t give people alone time, but instead, it’s important to show your support by joining them in their grief. . . even when you don’t know them. The picture inside was much different from outside, inside the mother of the girl wailed and wailed, hitting the ground, while the people behind me were shacking in grief and moaning. The room literally smelled like death – I never knew the smell until that moment, but the whole experience was somehow both surreal and one of the most vivid I can remember. After we left, my teacher friends told me that witchcraft, as always, was suspected, and that the children were blaming the mother for making the girl sick. I don’t think I will ever fully understand this aspect of Zambian culture, but it sure is entrenched in everyday life. While I think I am beginning to believe in some of this witchcraft talk, I hate that they use is to explain death.

By far, the best part of this month, has been getting to know and work with the youth. I have started a Youth club which is *supposed* to meet twice a week. First, we are focusing on lifeskills & HIV/AIDS, and then, I want to add in a business skills component and talk about planning for your future/picking a career/etc. It has been going really well so far – of course, regular attendance is always a problem, but some of the kids are really awesome and I love spending time with them. Also, Mr. Kandela, the grade 6 teacher, is assisting me with the club. I am so grateful for his help – I speak in English and then he translates into Zamblish when they don’t get me. . .which is pretty much always.

In other news, rainy season has arrived! Everyone kept telling me rainy season officially started on the 24th of October, assuring me that it always rained on Independence Day, and yet, I still had my doubts. I don’t understand it, but it proved to be true; while the first rain came on September 24th – a month early and there were one or two small showers that week, it has rained everyday from the 24th on! It’s amazing that everything has been brought back to life in such a short time; I guess after 6 months with no rainfall, the ground just soaks up every droplet.

Zambia is now back to being bright green and bushy & the sky is back to its previous majestic state, always full of the fluffy pillow-like clouds by day & illuminated by billions of twinkling stars at night. While the rains have brought some relief from the scorching heat, I forgot that they also bring with them lots of icky bugs and animals who like to invade my house, looking for a dry place. The ants are back, the spiders are somehow bigger and faster, and I am now back to worrying about the snakes which now have lots of hiding places in the overgrown grasses. Also, transport sucks even more than usual and only stands to get worse as the roads flood and get ruined by the downpours.

I kept telling my neighbors I thought we should add some thatch to my roof before the rains came, but they kept assuring me, that despite the patches of sun shining thru, the roof would not leak. Funny thing then, that first night it rained, I was woken to “drip drip drip” right on my face. . . and the noise of water coming in elsewhere around the hut. The next day, when I told the school, they all just laughed and said the thatch had to expand and then it wouldn’t leak . . . and yet, every time since I have been waking up wet. I’m afraid that when I get back my house is going to have fallen down – the post independence day rains have been pretty intense.

On a completely unrelated topic, I hate pigs! They have multiplied over the month and I now have piglets running all over the place. The morning I left for Solwezi I got out of bed all groggily and was headed towards the kyoloni when, I opened my door to find 6 piglets huddled up together on my doormat. I chased them away only to find them, about 30 mins later, inside my house eating Tukiya’s food. Tukiya & I went chasing after them, but they, squealing little idiots they are, couldn’t find the door. They were running all over the place making a huge mess – I caught one to teach it a lesson, but somehow they never learn. I used to think piglets were really cute (in a Wilber kind-of- way), but no, don’t be fooled, they grow into evil, dirty, giants that destroy gardens!

Lastly, I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is: my mom is coming to visit right after Thanksgiving! I’m really excited about this and am busy trying to figure out where we will go and, a bit more complicated, how we will get there. The bad new is: Stacey, my ‘other third,’ was in an accident; apparently, a pickup truck hit here when she was hitching to northern province and she fractured her pelvis in 6 places. She is in south Africa now and is being sent to America for recovery. I guess it happened over a week ago, but, not having network, I just found out a few days ago. Heather & I are lost without her and need her to come back so we don’t have to ET and join her as per our pact. Please keep her in your prayers, that she recovers quickly and gets to come back to Mufumbwe – because really, how could she possible be happy at home in America when she is missing a place like Mufu?

At last, the internet is back up!

After I wrote last, I ended up going out to Kashima for a meeting and finalizing everything for my move. They needed a week or two to build me a toilet and bafwa and make some final arrangements, so I decided to get out of Solwezi and do a little tour de Zambia. I’ll spare you all the awful, but humorous, transport stories since I could go on for pages, and give you the brief run-down. I headed out for Central Province first, where I met up with my friend from training. I had wanted to see his site and see his new puppies, but got in to late, so instead I got to experience Central’s favorite guesthouse which makes a lovely chicken and mashed potato dinner and has satellite television. The next day, I went to the provincial house in Serenje, hoping to run into some more friends, but instead hung out with some other PCVs I don’t know very well, but who were very hospitable and fun to hang out with anyways. After that, I attempted to hitch up to Mansa, in Luapula province, to see two of my favorite people in Zambia. I first got picked by a white farmer from Zimbabwe who was doing game drives until things settle down in his home country. He was really nice and I was enjoying hearing his view on Mugabe and the political situation in Zim. . . so much so that we missed the turnoff for Luapula and I almost ended up in Northern Province! Anyways, I eventually made my way to Mansa and had a lovely few days relaxing with friends. The volunteers there were putting on a career week for girls, so although I got to see a good number of people, most were rather busy with work (its amazing how well things work outside of NorthWestern). Anyways, the highlight of the trip was a day trip to beach in Sanfya where we got to lay on the white sand beaches and drink a box-o-red wine. Also, one of the girls I went to visit is now running Paravan, a non-profit organization started by a different PCV which trains and employs sex-workers in tailoring and then uses the proceeds to help with various women’s empowerment activities. It’s an awesome organization and they make beautiful bags and duvet covers out of chitenges, so I got to stock up! Oh, we also got to enjoy margaritas (or close to them) and fresh strawberries! Although I had a great time visiting, the whole trip made me appreciate the great NWP – we might not have much in Solwezi, but we have a great group of volunteers and we always have a good time.

I finally shifted to my new village, Kashima West, about two weeks ago and I have been loving life there! I am living in Headman Sazende’s village, in amongst several families who are somehow related, but I have yet to figure out how. The African family circle is really interesting, but also confusing – they call all their aunts ‘mama’ and there cousins are considered siblings so it’s hard to work out who is the “nuclear” family. With the exception of one troublesome young guy, who is trying to take advantage of the rich mzungu, the people around me have been very kind, generous, and welcoming. There are lots of little kids who come over to play with my football, and for less than 24 hrs sit in my hammock – just enough time to ruin it! There is a stream just down the hill from my house where all the women in the area go to do there washing and fetch water, so I really enjoying doing my chores with everyone else. It’s a lot easier to just bring your dishes and clothes to the water, rather than carry the water back to my house. Of course, everything I wash they take from me and re-wash since I don’t do it properly, but never-the-less, it’s fun to be there with the women and try to communicate . . . or at least make them laugh at my attempt to be a Zambian.

I now actually have 3 orphaned girls coming over everyday to get water and do dishes and such. I really didn’t want to hire any help, but I got guilted into it. They would help me do my wash anyways, but, as they did, they would ask me for some of my clothes. They were speaking chokwe, but I got the gist as they pointed to their ragged clothing and then to my bucket full of clothes. It really eats at you – I want to help them and even just give them my things, but it would just cause more and more people to beg from me and encourage them to just ask for things. I decided that I will just start paying students to help me do things … I know it’s not sustainable, but at least it will help them temporarily with paying school fees or whatever. My neighbor told me it would be better not to give the girls money, since they don’t have to pay school fees, so I am just buying them clothes or other things they need when I come to Solwezi once a month. They live with their grandmothers, who, unfortunately don’t care about the girls becoming educated and one of them is brewing & drinking lots of beer. When I found out that the girls aren’t going to school, I told them I would fire them if they didn’t start going and that they have to start bring their notes over to my house after school J I don’t want to be buying them things only to have them uneducated and looking for husbands at 13 – it will only continue the cycle. Of course, I’m sure this wouldn’t help and they will be prostituting themselves within a few yrs, if they aren’t already.

I have really been enjoying being back in the village. The area itself is really beautiful and peaceful. My school is on the top of a hill and there are fruit trees and lush vegetation all around. The Kobompo river is less than 2 km from my house! I went there with some neighbors the other day and one of them took me in a canoe for a better view of the water. We saw lots of people fishing with big baskets, as well as, people on land molding bricks out of anthills. They also showed me a spot where I can go swimming or bathing with the women & I got really excited because it’s getting really hot these days and I would love to have a spot to go cool off. However, my excitement was cut short when, I was recounting my trip to the teachers, and they all said in shock, “you got in the river?!” “You can’t go near there because it is infested with crocodiles – you & tukiya will be a nice meal.” I told them that all my neighbors said it was fine & they always go to a shallow part where there are no animals. . . they said very rarely in the raining season one or two will find there way down from jivudu, but its safe. . . I was leaning towards trusting the villagers since they know the area better until, the other night, the same neighbor who had assured me it was safe was telling me about his family and casually mentions that his mother died last year. . . “ah yes, she was in the kobompo fishing . . . with one of those large . . . you know . . . baskets . . . and then, there was this . . .crocodile . . you know . . . it was following her” ---“WHAT? You mean to tell me your mom got eaten by a crocodile?!?!” --- “Yes”

I think I’ll be staying out of the water from now on.

I am also loving the community because it seems to have a lot of cultural activities going on as a result of the mix of tribes. Everyday since I have been there, there has been a different makishi dancer come running through the village. There is a mukanda (circumcision camp) going on and the masked men come out to bring food back to the boys. They are dressed in these wild costumes made of nets and grass skirts, with paint all over there bodies and giant wood carved masks! Each one has a name and a specific thing it is known for, in addition to, a unique dance it does. I’m really mad because on the day all the boys come home from the camp, all the makishi come out and dance and there is a huge celebration . . . but I am here in Solwezi for provincial meetings! Talk about bad timing. It’s really fun to watch the makishi because all the kids like to get close and make him mad so that he chases them and they all go running.

Around sunset every evening, there is a gathering of women just ‘next door’ at my neighbors, where the church choir rehearses dances and songs. Also, every night as I am laying down to sleep, I hear all sorts of singing and clapping in the distance. Apparently, all of the youths get together to drum, sing, and dance … in lue of television or whatnot . . . It is especially popular around the full moon since there is more light. I am always wanting to go join, but I haven’t figured out where it is coming from yet, and am not yet brave enough to go wandering around in the dark.

Tukiya seems to be enjoying her new home as well, although, she’s having a hard time being left alone. Since I don’t have a fence or anything to keep her locked up, she goes everywhere I go . . . including trotting right into the headmasters office or visiting the pupils in school. Almost all Zambians are afraid of dogs, even the little kinds, so you can image how they react to a giant rot/doberman puppy! Fortunately, she is so good natured, people are getting used to her and it’s almost a good ice-breaker. I tell them her Kaonde name, get her to do a trick or two, and they all start laughing – and thinking I can communicate with animals J The other day I went to visit another school with the Headmaster, and Tukiya ran after our bikes almost the entire way. I thought for sure I could lose her going down the hill, but she was galloping along with all her mite – after nearly 8km, I had to tie her up to some random tree because I thought she was going to die or exhaustion or get hit by the bus. Anyways, I am feeling a bit like Mary with her little lamb!

The other great thing about my new site is that I am in the same district as my fellow RED volunteers, Heather & Stacey, as well as, 2 LIFE volunteers, Topher & Kevin, and a Fish Farmer, Ryan, who happens to be my closest neighbor, about 25 km away. I really like where I’m at because I don’t have to see anyone if I don’t want to – the others are so close they are always running in to each other in the BOMA or at schools – but, they are close enough that if I’m having a bad week, I can hop on my bike and go visit them. They had a “welcome to mufu” dinner for me & the newbies my first week, so it was a nice little break to have on the weekend. Stace, Heather, & I are hoping that with the three of us in the district, we can start to get more work done and really build a partnership with the district education board.

My zonal head school is just across the street from where I stay and seems to working rather well -- all things considered. They recently added on a High School, but, due to lack of classroom space & financial resources, grades 1-12 are sharing maybe 5 classrooms. This means some classes meet in local churches and most every grade is over-crowed since they can’t manage to have 2 streams. Never-the-less, the teachers & pupils seem to be doing the best they can. Since there are both basic & high schools, there are two separate administrations – meaning 2 headmasters, 2 PTAs and lots of teachers to work with. I’m really excited to have the High School right there because a lot of the students can speak English decently and they are a great age group to be working with. They all want me to be their teacher, but since I am so “movious” and have other responsibilities with the administration and monitoring within the zone, I think I will stick to tutoring and doing lots of extra-curricular activities with them. Right now, I am re-reading a biology book to help some kids prepare for there big exam. I am planning on starting a life-skills class as soon as I get back to Kashima, in which, we will meet once a week to do peer education in the classroom and then once on the weekend just to have a fun day where I introduce them to lots of American games and activities. I am also planning on setting up a girls empowerment club with the older girls and then have them help facilitate lessons &/or run a girl-scout type group with the younger girls. Heather & I both want to start girls groups and then have them get together to go camping or compete in sporting acts – anything to let them get to know girls from different areas. We are also starting to plan various teacher trainings, a camp glow and career week – all of which require us writing grants L -- but that we will then hold district-wide. I have lots of ideas and activities I am hoping to start with the school – as always, the problem is in implementation . . . I need to have teachers/ translators to help facilitate and so that it can go on with out me always leading it.

I’ve been talking with the teachers/ heads about doing a zonal resource center/ library and they are very keen on the idea. . . I am going to the BOMA to get a floor-plan and budget made, and then will be meeting with the administration to make an action plan and figure out how the community will contribute. I am hoping to do some research on small grants this week (if the internet would actually work!) and then hold a grant writing workshop so that they can help in finding funding. I’m trying to do it for as low cost as possible, but we’ll see how that works. If anyone knows of good organizations that might help fund a library, please let me know or, if you can, send me the address so that I can write to them. I’m also hoping that everyone at home can be working on a book drive of some sort – I have found a few places in Zambia, but transport if going to be a problem (there is a fuel shortage and every organization you talk to is short on funds). Anyways, everyone is always asking me for things to read. There is this one little boy (well not so little, he looks like he might be 8-10, but is apparently 15 and just really malnourished) who likes to come by my house to chat because he wants to improve his English. His father & 3 sisters died & his mother is in Chingola, so he is just living in the village with his brother. He is so smart and wants to be a teacher when he grows up . . . and he’s just so cute, you can’t help but love him. Anyways, the 1st time he came by he was hoping he could borrow some books but I told him I didn’t have anything for 6th graders but that I had lots of friends and family at home who would hopefully be sending some books for kids. He was very excited, so I don’t want to disappoint him.

Aside from the zonal school and High School, I have 7 other schools in my zone I am supposed to be working with. I have been in the process of biking around to meet with them, and then will be going around again doing monitoring & evaluation. So far, they all seem to be functioning – well, everything is looking great to me in comparison to Shapenda – but they all have the same problems which are just Zambia (or rural Zambia) wide: too many students and not enough teachers, no money to pay for classrooms and teachers accommodations, and general foundational problems related to not having a very structured atmosphere which is conducive to learning ( a lot of this is rural culture – students and teachers having a lot of other responsibilities outside of the classroom which take precedent over school, leading to poor attendance and the time table not being followed very strictly. It’s frustrating for us as Americans to come over here and try to work in an environment which doesn’t have the same sense of time and/ or work-ethic. Anyways, they all seem to be very nice, care about the welfare of their students, and are excited to work with me. I’m hoping to have each school come up with some sort of Income Generating Activity so that they can supplement the small grant they get from the government. One of my schools is inside Jivundu, a national park that has lots of birds, hippos, crocs and apparently even a few lions! I’m a little nervous about cycling to that one myself.

This past week I have been going around to all of the classes at Kashima West to introduce myself and Peace Corps. It was actually really fun because the kids all got so excited when I came into the classroom. I brought a map of the US and they asked me all sorts of questions about America, if I took N’shima, who is in my family – and how many kids I had, what church I went to, etc. As you can imagine, my answers were shocking to them – 23 & not married w/ kids! Amazing! I had fun with them and used it as a platform to start talking about girl’s education and such. Also, I asked them all if they would like to have a pen pal – or as they say, “pen-friend” – in America & there was a resounding YES! I decided since the younger kids can barely write, even in local language, that we would start from grade 6 --- the younger classes may dictate a letter as a class that the teacher or I actually write. Anyways, now I have about 250 pupils I need to find pan pals for, and than classes to pair up with the younger kids. I will write to friends I know are teachers, but if anyone has a classroom or school that would be interested in partnering with my school, please let me know. I’m sure I can find more kids if there are several schools in the US. (I just asked the kids at my zonal head school). I’m just so excited to actually be in a place that has the potential to do lots of good work – nothing amazing I know, but I actually have people who want to work with me!

The main challenges I’ve been facing so far have been related to language and setting boundaries. Communication has been difficult as most people speak Chokwe, Lunda, & Luvale; even if they understand a bit of English or my bits of Kaonde, they tend to respond in whatever is their first language. Not only can I not understand, but most of the time, I can’t even tell which language they are speaking. Mostly, I walk around and yell greetings in whichever language comes to mind, followed by, “Mbena kufunda kikaonde pace pace – kabiji nsakufunda chichokwe, chilunda, ne chiluvale” [I am learning kaonde bit by bit – next, I will learn the others] to which they smile and laughing assure me that I will be fluent in all within 3 months, but then argue with each other over which I should master first. I will feel accomplished if I can simply keep straight which response goes to which greeting and/or be conversant in just one. On the plus side, there seems to be a lot of people with decent English skills, so between English, Kaonde, and some ever impressive charade skills, we can get by. Also, they teach Kikaonde as the official Zambian language at the school, so I can talk with the kids a bit and they can help translate to the women and older men for me.

Setting boundaries has been a bit more difficult than it was in Shapenda because there, people pretty much left me alone. Here, I have a lot more visitors and a lot more people asking me for things. I think I am much more sensitize than most – I had a hard time saying no in America – here, when it involves turning away small poor kids, it just kills me. As I was saying though, you just can’t help everyone and when you give something to someone, the next day you have the 10 people who heard about it asking you too. Also, it goes against Peace Corps whole philosophy of helping people help themselves through acquiring knowledge and skills. . . trust me, they all already know very well the motto “there is no harm in asking” – especially whites – educated Zambians are the first to acknowledge that they their mindset was “ruined by the whites.” Colonialism’s legacy has many people still believing they should defer to the powerful, “more intelligent” white man. In addition, having so many missionaries & NGOs dropping large sums of money and resources into very rural areas, has led to many people associating whites as sources of endless money.

Aside from feeling guilty on a daily basis for every possession and privilege I have, I’m also just having problems deciding how best to balance having time/space to myself and being a part of their very communal culture. Since there is only one mzungu and thousands of villagers, I tend to get a lot more visitors than your average person. Traditionally, you should bring guests food and offer them a place to sit. The problem is, I don’t sit around cooking n’shima all day and buy most of my food from shoprite – I don’t feel like having to feed every person who stops by my house . . . and I have to admit, I hate having to sit there and awkwardly attempt to communicate with every person who comes by my home. When Zambians visit, they never get to the point of why they are there, but first, “shoot the shit,” exchanging greetings, and whatnot, sitting in silence for long periods of time, before they finally get to why they came. It’s so annoying . . . but I’m trying. I’m just not nearly as gifted at getting people to leave as other PCVs are. Anyways, there are certain people who are always coming by when I am eating, late at night, or early early in the morning, and I’m trying to figure out a polite/culturally appropriate way of getting that changed.

I feel like there is a lot more to say, but I’ve got to get off the computer and back to the house. We have our provincial meeting tomorrow and I have lots of errands to run. Hope all is well at home and I look forward to hearing from you all. Please contact me if you have any information, suggestions, or questions about the book drive and/or pen pals set-up. Thanks for your continuous support and encouragement!

Lots of love,

Caitlin . . . or, as I am now known in the village, Kutemba.

I just returned from Mwinilunga where the 1st annual Camp GLOW for NorthWestern Province was held. Camp GLOW (Girl’s Leading Our World) is a week long camp which PC volunteers in Eastern Europe developed and now similar programs are being done all over. Two volunteers from last year’s intake undertook all the preparations for the camp (i.e. writing grants, selecting girls, & basic organization and logistics) and then asked for other volunteers to help facilitate sessions & act as quasi-camp counselors. About 9 of us from the NWP ended up going as we are all pretty passionate about the issue of girl’s empowerment. Stacey, Heather, & I were particularly excited since we are hoping to put on a camp next year for the girls in Kaonde land.

Before all the camp fun could begin, we first had to take the perilous journey up to Mwinilunga. The Mwinilunga road is notorious for its potholes, however, the bus drivers don’t seem to mind as they just swerve around them at high speeds. The longer I am here, the more I believe hitching or sitting on the back of a canter is not only much more comfortable, but also a whole lot safer. It took us about 6 hours on the restored prison bus from the 60’s to reach Regina’s house – I guess the trip wasn’t that bad, esp. after I traded my jerry can for half of a real seat. Once at Regina’s, we all settled in for a nice meal of rice and beans around the campfire. In the background, her family celebrated the “coming of age” of their youngest son.

The Lunda’s are one of a few tribes that practice circumcision and they take the event very seriously. It was very cool to see a traditional ceremony being adapted to modern times. For example, they used to send the boys out to the woods for several months, but now they just work it around the school holidays, so it is just a month in which they have to learn all their manly ways. The rituals are top secret – only the boys get to know what goes on – or in our case, the male PCV’s just tell us the juicy parts. The family invited us over to help celebrate, so we part took for a bit. There was tons of drumming, drinking, dancing, and singing. It was actually the last night of the ceremony, as the son was to return home “a man” the next morning. The boy and his mentors were brought out for part of the night, but they were completely covered with chitenges so they couldn’t see. They were carried on the shoulders of other men as they danced in a circle and were then placed on a reed mat where the women danced around them while singing. Once he was returned to his camp just outside the village, the party went full throttle. I guess the boy is supposed to be able to hear his family, so the whole night they kept up the partying. It was really awesome to experience; however, the only downside was that we were all exhausted the next day since none of us were able to sleep with all the noise. The next morning we watched the boy get unveiled & all his guests give him gifts which had to be presented to him with a dance.

That afternoon we were taken to the Christian Training Center where the camp was held. It was a beautiful retreat with proper brick houses, running water, & hydro electricity run from the gorgeous waterfall just nearby. We spent the night recovering and getting organized, while our co-directors worried about transport and everything else that could go wrong when planning something in Zambia. Fortunately, when transport canceled, they were able to arrange a backup and the girls arrived in time for lunch the next day.

The girls were awesome! We had 27 of them from a boarding school in Mwinilunga so, lucky for us, their English was quite good. We broke them into groups so that we could more easily have small group discussion and get to know the girls on a more personal level. Also, we had planned on awarding points for various reasons so that we could have them competing for free milkshakes (not the best idea in retrospect). I was on Team Impala with Jeremy and 5 amazing young ladies. We held sessions on sugar daddies, pregnancy, HIV, family planning, confidence & motivation, assertiveness, sexual assault, and peer pressure. I think it was the first time the girls had ever talked about some of these topics, so it was really rewarding to witness them learning and start talking about things which were affecting their everyday lives. The topics of sexual assault & sugar daddies were especially eye-opening for us volunteers and pretty significant to the girls. I think that every girl in that room had been sexually assaulted, propositioned by older authoritative men, or had a best friend or sister who had been. We had one girl come out about having been raped twice when she was no more than 7 yrs old – once by a pastor and once by a priest. . .and was then yelled at by her siblings for bringing it on! Another girl was asked advice for what to do if a friend was being raped by her father. One of my girls, who had been orphaned, confided to me that she started sleeping with an older man who offered her gifts when her uncle and aunt couldn’t afford to give her money to buy things, and, as a result, became pregnant. She is barely 17 and now has a 1 1/2 yr old baby. It was absolutely heartbreaking . . . and yet, also empowering, for all of us to address these issues head on. It was the first time any of them had heard that being sexually assaulted was not their fault! I think the hardest part for me was hearing all of these stories but not really knowing how to help. If we were in the States, we all know the procedures for reporting these perpetrators and getting then put away. However, in Zambia, it’s not so easy. The legal system doesn’t work the same way. You can go to the police and they might not do anything. There is still a lot of corruption in the system and sexual assault is not defined in the same ways. One issue that kept coming up and was extremely frustrating to us volunteers was teachers who were propositioning their students. When asked where the girls felt most vulnerable, most of them said at school. It still kills me. Teachers! The people who are supposed to be your role models, trustworthy, and helping you to succeed are instead using their power to take advantage of them! These girls have worked so hard to get to the level of education they have reached, and then, they are threatened with being failed and having no future! Ahhh, it pisses me off so much. A few of us were so irate we were ready to go confront all the teachers at their school. . . We still haven’t decided the best way to handle the situation, but I think I am going to do some research on Zambian sexual assault law. Another challenge to the “sugar daddy” controversy is that many women will blame the girls and say they are the ones who instigate the relationships, hoping for better marks or gifts of some sort . . . at least this is the response we got when we shared our concerns with 2 guest speakers. Personally, I don’t care if the girl goes into the room naked and tries to seduce her teacher. It’s still wrong. The teacher should just report the girl! You can’t just say, “oh well, she wanted to.” Man, I am still so mad. Anyways, I think that it was a success if only that we got the girls talking about these issues in the open. It showed them that none of them were alone and allowed us to think of ways to counteract these problems.

On another note, by the end of the week we were just about all pep-ed out! One of the co-directors used to be a camp director in the states, so we were singing songs and doing silly dances the whole week. On top of that, we were having this competition I mentioned. We each had to come up with a team chant and maybe a dance or song that we would use to show our “team spirit.” The girls got really into it but weren’t exactly displaying good sportsmanship. It got to the point were we had to start awarding points only for showing encouragement to other girls since they would get mad at us for voting for another team (given that you couldn’t vote for yourself) or awarding points for answers to any one on the enemy side! It was pretty funny looking back on it. The first night we were there we did all sorts of relay races -- including one in which we had to dig sweeties out of a bowl of mealie meal and then another in which they had to fill small containers on their facilitators heads with water from very large containers with big openings. It was pretty hysterical, but at the end of the night we basically had made nshima in our hair and couldn’t sneeze out all the mealie meal up our noses. The last night got pretty serious with a dance off and a Zambian star search. My team was fantastic --- they couldn’t decide on a song, so Jeremey and I picked an old American favorite for them: MC Hammer’s “Can’t Touch This” – since this wasn’t there normal rumba music, they insisted we show them our moves… it was absolutely fabulous, that’s all I can say. I will do my best to upload the video I took of their encore performance the next day. Star Search went on and on – we had lots of singing and dancing and *luckily* only one drama. Zambian students LOVE dramas & improve. 18 and a half minutes later, all the girls were laughing and all the facilitators, whose eyes had been glazing over, cheered at the end. The only part that we found entertaining was the end in which each girl steps out and says some funny line from the play and then acts surprised, like they forgot they were just acting, and says, “oooh, in the play I acted as the drunken step-father, but in real life my name is . . .”

You have to be there.

I am proud to say that Team Impala not only won the dance off (hands down) but we also had one of our members win the star search competition! Janet sang a beautiful song all by herself – we were so surprised and proud of her considering she was one of the most shy girls in the group. The highlight of the night, however, had to be when one of the girls who really likes attention wanted to perform for the fourth time, but then surprised us all by leading the girls in a really sweet song in which they called us each out by name and said they will miss us when we go. It really took us by surprise and we all started to get a bit choked up. . . then it turned into a big church camp where they were singing worship song after worship song and we just wanted to go to bed, but still, it was pretty moving.

The main downfall of the camp came about half way through the week when one of the directors feel ill . . . followed by 6 other facilitators and maybe 5 of the girls. The four of us who made it through camp started dropping upon arrival in Solwezi, and, as of now, only 1 didn’t get sick at all (mine was thankfully very short in comparison). There are many theories on what did it – including some rancid mealie meal or the fact that the girls had been refilling the water without boiling it first. . . who knows. Either way, the vomiting and diarrhea really put a damper on people’s mood the last few days.

The morning of the last day we all piled into the back of a canter for the ride into the boma. This of course was filled with more singing – who needs a radio really? It was sad to see the girls go, but we were ready – it was kind of exhausting being around so many people for so long. Overall, I think the camp was a great success. We all learned a lot and had fun in the process (counselors included). Plus, it really helped to refocus and motivate me . . . I had been feeling rather jaded recently.

After returning from Malawi, I decided to head to Mufumbwe district with Stacey & Heather so that we could begin exploring the area for potential sites. One of the many factors that is making finding me a new site particularly difficult is that I am supposed to be based at a zonal head school and there are only so many in Kaonde areas within a reasonable distance to the BOMA and not already being covered by another volunteer. We had heard of one area in Mufumbwe that used to have a volunteer but wasn’t replaced because they hadn’t taught the language that year. It was pretty far from the BOMA but someone told us that there is a shortcut from where Heather lives. We all got pretty excited at this prospect since we are really hoping to be able to work together to do training and various programs. Then, one of our friends who knew the previous volunteer said I absolutely couldn’t go there because there is a large mine there and it was basically a village of ama guys; The guy who had lived there had specifically said a girl should not replace him. Even with this news we thought we would check it out ourselves, I mean where in Kaonde land do you not find ama guys?

The first night in Mufu I spent at Stacey’s’ & consequently barely got any sleep – we turn into 13yr olds at a slumber party – gossiping & laughing the whole night. So, the next morning, we had to force ourselves to wake at a very early hour so that we could start off to pick Heather and try out this shortcut. The ride to Heather’s is short & easy, just about an hour, but she didn’t know that we were coming and thus, we had a bit of a delay waiting for her to get some things together. We checked with a neighbor who concurred that once we got to a school which was about 2 hrs away, all we had to do was cross the river and just go straight and the village was “just there.” At the beginning of the trip we were having a great time—the path was perfectly picturesque – we passed quaint little villages and wide open savannahs. The weather was beautiful and we were just having a great time – our spirits high as we were imagining this great village on the other side that I would get to stay in.

When we reached the school, a teacher came out and, thankfully, drew us a map to the village since it wasn’t as simple as we had been told. We decided to break for lunch once we crossed the river . . . which wasn’t as soon as we had hoped. We had already run out of water by this point and had forgotten to bring along purification tablets. I was so thirsty at this point that I would have taken the giardia or whatever other parasite was living in the water, but we never really passed any water source. We did however pass lots of people on the way, including some men who tried to sell us diamonds, and a woman who appeared to be possessed by demons or something and was being restrained as she tried jumping at us when we passed. It seemed like the never ending journey -- and our hopes were dropping the longer it took.

Finally, after about 5 hrs, we reached the village. We came right out into a small compound where a bunch of men sitting around drinking . . . not looking good. Then, we continued on trying to find the school. The place was just incredibly eerie. It was beautiful, but very strange. There was no one around and it was so far away from everything . . . all we could see was a giant hill which had to be the mine. When we finally reached people, what we saw was disturbing: A huge open mining field in which probably 200 people (men, women, and children) were digging small holes and smacking rocks together in attempt to find something of value. Apparently, the mine was closed many years ago and is now operating illegally. It was quite upsetting to see. We made it to a tuc shop, bought all the water they had, and hopped right back on our bikes since we had to try and make it back before dark.

The way back was awful – not so much because we were physically tired as we were drained emotionally (I mean the lack of calories, water, and all day in the sun also had its effect). We took the main road back thinking perhaps we could hitch somewhere along the way, but, 4 more hours and we didn’t pass one vehicle or village along the way. By the time we made it to the roadside, it was already dark. Luckily, another volunteer lived just by the turnoff, so we waked to his house and made ourselves at home for the night, despite him not being there. Over 120km in one day! We were so exhausted we went straight to bed and didn’t move until morning.

The next day our new PCVL came out as she was planning on taking us back to this same school in order to have a community meeting. We filled her in on everything, but since we never made it to the school and she had already come all the way out, we decided to go back there with someone from the DEBS office. We met with the headmaster of the school and my opinion of the place didn’t get any higher. The sad thing about this community and the one I left is that they really need help. . . I just don’t think Peace Corps volunteers can do anything for them since we are really only useful in bringing knowledge to people who want it and are willing to work. I really just didn’t get a good vibe from it at all, and the working environment was a bit too reminiscent of Shapenda. Unsurprisingly, I was not feeling too optimistic about my options.

After we left this school, the guy from the DEBS office suggested Kashima West – this is a school about 56km from the BOMA & maybe 25km from the closest volunteer. Peace Corps hadn’t planned on putting anyone further out past this one, but, we are running out of options in the great NWP. The whole way out there we were as negative as possible since every time we got our hopes up they are smashed. So, when we got there and the school and area looked really beautiful, we told ourselves it would be just awful on the inside. On the contrary, we met with the headmaster of both the basic and high school and they both seemed really great—very competent and hard working. They had only good things to say about the community and acted as though they would be happy to host a volunteer. There are a few downsides to this community – namely, they only speak KiKaonde at the school, whereas Lunda, Luavale, and mostly Choque are spoken in the villages. Second, I wouldn’t be the first volunteer they ever had . . . and the last one didn’t have the best reputation. He ended up leaving early, after he isolated himself from the village. Apparently, he bought some juju village that was in a swamp and hung his rabid dog, scarring some little kids. I don’t know how much is true, but it could present a few problems. However, the people at the school seemed to think the community would still be happy with a volunteer – they said the community really liked the previous volunteer; he just didn’t act like he liked them. They said I would have to be willing to talk to people and not refuse them if they bring me gifts! Not a problem. The distance could be hard, but it isn’t bothering me so much because there appears to be more access to vegetables and other food than in Shapenda. Also, I am closer to the Kabompo district than to Mufu and there is apparently a nicer sub-boma only 25kms away. Nothing is definite, but we are going to go ahead and pursue this place since it is the nicest option I’ve seen. The people we met seemed very welcoming and I just got a really good vibe from the place. Let’s just say I’m excited at the prospect.

Our first holiday out of Zambia was fantastic! Relaxing with friends was just what I needed after 3 months of relaxing in the village alone. The original group we had hoped to travel with continuously dwindled up until the morning of departure. We lost several to the guilt factor, another to an out of control staff infection, and yet another to a stomach virus that hit just hours before the bus left. Never-the-less, Jess, Heather, Emily, and I pulled through and, already being in Lusaka, could not be deterred from travel.

We once again made the fatal mistake of going out the night before transport thinking it would be easier to sleep on the bus. After hours of dancing & bar hoping around Lusaka, we said some quick goodbyes, grabbed our things and piled into the taxi at 4 am. Once at the station, we proceeded to walk through an obstacle course of luggage to the back of the bus. For some reason they were refusing to put luggage on the bottom of the bus (probably because they sold it to transport mealie meal or something) and, as a result, they ineffectually stored the luggage above our heads and in the aisles. I passed out immediately, but was abruptly awaken on several occasions when large items came crashing on my head. 8 hrs later we arrived in Chipata, the provincial capital of Eastern Province, where we made a quick pit stop at the PC house. We then took a taxi to the border, walked across, exchanged some money with some shady people who tried to rip us off, then another taxi, followed at last by a mini-bus to LiLongwe. There, we took advantage of the PC transit house and the hospitality of PC Malawi volunteers who gave us some good pointers on where to go. The next morning, after a short detour of being lost, we made it back to the main road and within 5 minutes got a free bwana ride all the way to Mzuzu. (Granted the 4 of us were squished in the backseat with a little girl for several hours, but leather seats, climate control, and a non-stop trip - you just ask for anything nicer)

Traveling into Malawi I couldn’t get over the beautiful scenery! The further in we drove, the more gorgeous the country seemed to get; it was everything you dream of in coming to Africa. . . mountainous, lush foliage, tons of banana plantations, small villages set on top of plateaus, & thanks to its plethora of water, everything was still alive & saturated in vivid colors. We eagerly peered out the window while cruising along the curvaceous roads, only having to break occasionally for monkey crossings. Once in Mzuzu, we had only a 45 min ride in the back of a pick-up truck until we reached Nkata Bay, our destination of choice.

We stayed at Myoka Village, a cute little backpackers place right on Lake Malawi. They gave us our own little chalet on the hilltop, so in the evenings we could sit on our porch and watch beautiful sunsets over the water. The lake is stunning in its vastness . . . looking out into the horizon, you feel as though you are in the Pacific, and yet, at shore, the deep teal colored water gently laps against the rocks. Myoka Village, itself, has such a relaxing atmosphere that you get sucked in. Everyone who works there is incredibly friendly & so chill – every time you mentioned leaving they would tempt you to stay by saying you were going to miss out on some great event and would offer discounts if you were short on money – it was like that town in the movie Big Fish where no one ever leaves . . . except, scratch the proper southern town and picture a rasta-paradise. Our three day vacation stretched on to nearly a week (mostly because we couldn’t face the 3 day journey back). I was seriously considering taking on a job as a bartender just so that I could stay longer – after all, it sure would beat sitting around the Solwezi house waiting for a new home.

We ended up meeting up with several other PCVs from Zambia, which only added to our enjoyment of the place. We basically spent our days lounging around – at the bar, on the beach, in the hammocks, on the trampoline. We went into town to explore the market and local crafts one day and went swimming/snorkeling a couple of times. The water was so sparkly in the sun that I couldn’t resist diving in despite the warnings of schistosomiasis. (now that my staff infection is finally under control, I’ve probably let hermaphroditic worms loose in my body, replicating for the next 19 months until I get some pill to poo them out). Anyways, the water was wonderfully refreshing and so clear you could see all the way to the bottom. One day we attempted to do a little canoeing in some locally dug out logs. These things were very difficult to balance, so of course we hit the water about 2.3 seconds after sitting on them. Jess & I were on the two person one and it was nearly impossible to stay on – providing a good laugh for just about everyone who saw us. Eventually, I commandeered Emily’s boat and successfully made it across the lake where I saw some monkeys playing in the trees and met with an old fisherman who made me a little nervous about what may be living in the lake. . .

At night, we all just hug out in the restaurant/bar area: stuffing ourselves with the Malawian buffets, sampling the local beverages, and starting dance parties. The tab system they have going there is rather dangerous. Almost all of us ran out of money by the end. Fortunately, I helped bartend a couple of the nights, assisting everyone in their financial woes. We arranged for a bond fire one night and invited some of the local craftsmen who we had been hanging out with and that gave us some lessons in wood carving. They brought a bunch of their drums so we had an awesome drum circle on the beach under the stars. (I ended up trading my cell phone for a hand carved mahogany wood drum. . . now I just have to learn how to play it when in the village.)

At last, we got restless and realized we needed to get out of Malawi before we turned into useless drifters. Zambia may not be quite so beautiful, but at least we have somewhat of a purpose there. I’m not even going to go into the details of our trip back, except to say it was hellish and included me lying on the side of the road thinking I was going to die of heat exhaustion. On the plus side, we made it all the way back to Lusaka only having to pay for 2 short mini-bus rides (a good thing considering we had temporarily run out of money, having no atms around).

Once in Lusaka, I met up with Stacey who had missed the vacation on account of her foot that had swollen to 3X its original size and we decided to go ahead and treat ourselves to one night of luxury before heading back to Solwezi. We booked a room at the intercontinental and took advantage of every minute we had in a nice clean hotel room with comfy beds. We had friends come over, ordered Chinese food, had our 1st bathes in 6 months, watched TV, had more hot showers, pigged out on the complementary breakfast buffet and even splurged on $25 massages. It was a little piece of heaven. . .

I went into the office to try to sort out things about my site – it was frustrating but hopefully will be worked out soon. The bus ride back to Solwezi was depressing & rather miserable, but once we got back to the house, everything started to normalize and we were happy to be home.

photos:

http://pepperdine.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2033654&l=bae78&id=8501511

I've made it through my community entry period and am back in Lusaka for In-Service Training! It's hard to believe we are coming up on 6 months in country. In fact, tomorrow (i was just informed) is our 6 month anniversary of staging. Where does the time go?! A whole lot has happened -- unfortunately, just nothing productive in terms of "work." I have decided to move sites do to all the craziness I wrote about in my e-mail and, the fact that when I returned to the village, they had still not taken ANY steps in preparing my house. It was a tough decision, and though I am still feeling a bit guilty about leaving, I think it was for the best. There are lots of communities out there that really want to work with a volunteer -- and, I actually want to make some difference in the time I'm here & feel a part of my village. I currently have all my belongings (including my puppy Tukiya) in the Solwezi house until we figure out where I can move. It's been rather difficult trying to find a new site since we are transitioning between program directors and PCVLs; plus, all the staff is incredibly busy with both Pre-Service & In-Service Training which are going on simultaneously. Regardless, everyone has been very supportive and is doing their best to find me a new and improved place to live :-) I'm a bit anxious to get re-settled in my new home & start working, but I'm trying to remember I still have lots of time. For the meantime, I will just continue to enjoy what we PCVs commonly refer to as the "guiltiest vacation" of my life.Speaking of vacation, tomorrow I am headed to Malawi! We have not really done any planning, so I don't know how smoothly it will go . . . or even where exactly we are going, but sometimes it's fun to just pick up and leave and just let things fall into place. I'll let you know how it turns out.

A little recap of the last week or so, since that's about all I can remember. . . Early Saturday morning, my NWP friends & I departed Solwezi on an always exciting, never very enjoyable bus ride. The trip down was full of entertainment including listening to the incessant singing of some ama guys and, seeing 2 & 3 story buildings for the 1st time in 3 months! 12 hrs, 1 movie and 2 sleeping pills later, we entered the homeland -- good old Chongwe. We headed straight to the famous world trade center (a.k.a the tiki bar) where we were happily re-united with many of our intake friends. It was so wonderful to see everyone and yet so strange at the same time -- village life has taken its toll on us. We had planned on coming early to go visit our home stay families, but since we didn't get in until late, we decided to post-pone that endeavor for the morning, and instead, catch up over some nshima. We had a great time hearing one another's crazy stories -- how long it had been since they had last bathed, how many snakes they had seen/ rats & spiders they had killed, what diseases they had contracted & the lot. After dinner, we decided to go out dancing and ran into all the new trainees. It was a pleasant surprise to get to meet everyone, just weird to be around so many muzungos at once. Also, seeing Chongwe in comparison to Solwezi gave me a completely new perspective. I was like WOW! the ama guys in Chongwe have manners & its not nearly as dirty as I remember. I am going to go into shock when i get back to the states.The next morning I returned to Kakubo village and was greeted with big hugs and smiles from my host family. Again, it was so nice to see them and see how happy they were that I had returned. They even gave me tea and bread w/ PB just like old times. We couldn't stay long since we had to get into Lusaka to check in for training & more importantly, get to the just about the only place we know in town, the strip mall. The anticipation of good food and lots of other PCVs who would be arriving made the experience of being squished in the back of a mini-bus just okay .

After our first day of sessions, almost all of us headed into town to get dinner & see a movie. not just any movie, HARRY POTTER! It was so exciting to go into the movie theater and definitely was the longest I've ever gone without going. On the way home, our taxi ran out of gas so we had to get out and push it close to the petrol station. I don't know if the 5 pin discount made it worth while, but the laughing just may have. The rest of the week has gone by very quickly -- lots of sessions, lots of eating, lots of talking. I think we were all a bit over stimulated. It's strange going from the village life to Lusaka with 70 Americans around you all the time. Overall, I had a really good time -- some of the sessions were a bit on the boring side, but then again, it beats sitting by yourself for hours on end. At least you're not talking to yourself.

I'm looking forward to vacation, but even more than that, I'm looking forward to getting back to the village. I am missing the relaxing days just spent reading, doing chores, and playing games with all the little ewes. . . and of course, I am craving the peaceful feeling of sitting by the fire at night, puppy in lap, with nothing but stars, crisp air and soft sounds of drumming and singing in the distance. Here's hoping it can only get better.

As I was saying, I have lots of ideas and projects I want to start in my community. I’ll save most of those for when they are actually (hopefully) up and running, but I wanted to tell you about one, because I would love your HELP! One of the things I’ve noticed since being in Shapenda, and have talked a lot about with my school counterparts, is the lack of books. Books are super expensive - - I couldn’t even afford them here, so, you can imagine, a villager with 10 kids to support isn’t even going to contemplate buying one. The kids don’t even have school books. There is just a small bookshelf (not even full) of kids “learning to read” type books. They are great for me to learn some Kikaonde vocab, but they are hardly adequate for the kids’ education. We get frustrated when we talk to the kids or help them with their homework because they don’t seem to try, but, in reality, I don’t think they have developed thinking skills. The way they learn is just route memorization, so when asked to read something and find the answer, they just make guesses rather then go back through what they read and look for it. This is for the kids who can read. It’s not unusual to find kids in grade 8 or 9 who can’t read their local language. A lot of times this is their teacher’s fault, because I’ve heard many just give them the answers to a “practice” exam and the kids just memorize the answers. Plus, all you need is a 40% to pass, so a lot of people make it to grade 8 and then drop out when they finally fail an exam. The education system needs a lot of work. Some places like Lusaka, they are great, but in rural areas, man, you wouldn’t believe it. . . I sometimes take my world map out and ask the little kids to show me Zambia or Africa and they can’t! They sit there for 5 minutes searching until they find the word …or just guess somewhere random. In general, they don’t have enough teachers (a problem amplified by HIV/AIDs) and many aren’t adequately trained. I have this one teacher at my school who is awesome. He really cares about the kids and is a great teacher. BUT, he has to spilt his time between two grades, teaching the grade 8 for about 30 mins and then moving to grade 9. Again, the kids don’t have text books, so it’s not like they can teach themselves in the down-time. Same thing goes with homework. I mean there are lots of reasons homework is hard to give (like the fact that they already have tons of work to do at home & their families don’t value education or encourage them to study) but the lack of books definitely adds to it. There are just no books to be found! When I think about learning to read in America, I remember having tons of books that you would progress through. You need them to practice, and more importantly, to actually learn to read. Also, the teachers don’t have materials to further their education. This one guy who is great, wants to get his diploma by ODL (open and distance learning), but he is having a hard time getting text books. So, details will come. This is just the beginning stage of the project as I have lots to do on this end, and I’m sure it will end up taking the whole 2 years to complete – if it ever gets done. I’m planning to work with my community to build the structure. Hopefully it will be a zonal resource center with an office, a room to conduct trainings or gather groups, and a library. There are lots of organizations here that I am hoping to contact and work with to get books (esp. books in KiKaonde or other local languages) and any other funding we will need. There are a lot of other projects that will probably build off of this one – like literacy classes, training a librarian, and maybe an IGA to support the library. I don’t know yet. There is lots to be decided, but that is going to require working a lot with leaders in the community and seeing how much they are willing to invest in this and what all they want to see. Bottom line, I have been freaking out (imagine that) wanting to do something that is actually sustainable, but, at the same time, struggling with the fact that they really don’t have much to work with. While I don’t think NGOs have all the answers – far from them, actually – they do provide resources that simply aren’t accessible in a lot of places. Books, I feel, should be available to people. If you give children and people in the community the opportunity to read and educate themselves, you are also empowering them. And that, I think, is “sustainable.” I am going to contact a few of you individually, but if any of you have ideas or would like to help or be in charge of a book drive, please let me know. We need all kinds. I was hoping that people who are still in school could focus of getting books for students their age/level. Therefore, the little ones could try to get basic learning to read materials and your elementary level books. High school could work on high school, college for college, etc. I know at least in college we would always end up with books we couldn’t sell back, so instead, send them to me! Again, I need to do more research, but if you go to the post office there are things called M-bags which cost maybe a dollar per pound. They are shipped via boat and might take 6 months, but hey, that’s why I’m telling you all now. I know schools are probably out for the summer, but this way you can be thinking for the fall. If all else fails, like if the structure doesn’t get built (lets hope not, but this is northwestern im talking about), at least the people who are motivated will have some way of educating themselves. People always say knowledge is power, its as true here, if not more. So many problems are compounded by lack of knowledge. Anyways, I would really appreciate your help and I will keep you all updated on how things are going. . .and lets hope for the best. The people I’ve talked to are really excited about it, but excitement only gets you so far.

Hmm, I don’t really know what to write. Life here is starting to seem pretty normal to me (even though it’s definitely anything but normal), so I’m not sure what you would care to hear about. Plus, I haven’t really been in the writing mode. If I were to write what I were thinking it would involve a lot of complaining and negativity and I don’t want to freak people out . . . I still love Zambia and am having a great time, but its really challenging. The things I spent all my time worrying about before coming are easy or at least I’m used, but there are a lot of things that I wasn’t prepared for or didn’t think about that are just really hard to deal with on a daily basis. I know we PCVs want to share stories that are exciting or memorable but, a lot of times, they happen to be horror stories or really cynical, so I’m trying not to let it come out … If I can’t say anything nice, I won’t say anything at all. . .at least not today …and at least not over the internet. We will leave it at the fact that my site & counterparts are difficult and there are a lot of factors that make it particularly challenging. Seeing as how they moved my site at the last minute, the prep for it was not as thorough as it should have been – and a lot of times, there are just problems they can’t foresee. Things are very slow moving & I am feeling overwhelmed since there is so much I want to do but I don’t know where to begin. I’m just going to give it more time and try to find motivated, non drunkards, to work with. Coming into Solwezi has been really good for me so that I can talk to other volunteers, hear about their sites, and bounce ideas off of them. I’m hoping to go visit a few of them soon and help facilitate some trainings. Some highlights of the past few weeks: · Transport continues to amaze me: o On our first attempt to leave Solwezi we sat on a mini-bus for 5 hours but it didn’t even leave the parking lot. The driver couldn’t be found, the people selling the tickets just used the money to buy boss packets (whiskey), continuously tell use we would be leaving “just now”, and ask why we wouldn’t just relax, have a drink, or our favorite, why we wouldn’t marry them. We tried to get our money back since we could no longer leave, considering we would get to the turnoff at dark and have to hitch, but they refused. The New Yorker in Heather came out and she almost got into a fist fight. Meanwhile, Stacy & I, did our share of yelling (even getting cheers from other women in standing up to the men) but, eventually we gave up realizing nothing we did would make the bus move. We were laughing so hard there were tears. It was one of those situations that was so freaking unbelievable and yet so typical of Zambia that I wish it had been on video so you could understand. o The next day, after having the same drunks surround our cab & try to get us to buy tickets, we decided we couldn’t deal with them again and would try our luck at hitching back to site. Stacy, Heather, & I took turns standing on the side of the road (next to the assembly line of prisoners who were manually expanding the tarmac with shovels, gravel, and jerrycans full of tar) Being white and female has its advantage for hitching. Every car that was leaving Solwezi stopped for us; the problem, rather, is that not many people are leaving Solwezi, and even fewer are going to Kasempa. We still sat around for five hours, but it paid off in the long run. We got a bwana ride in the back of a clean land cruiser driven by some health official. We even got cold softies thanks to the coolers used for blood transfer! o I thought biking with a women & chicken was tough. I am learning things can always be worse. Two giant boxes, luggage, backpack, and puppy tied to the front of me using a chitenge – a whole new challenge o Hitching from my site, I flag down a giant oil truck, and sit in the middle of a cab with 3 men. A nightmare scenario in America, here I just worried that the truck would break down. o Coming back to site with Heather & Stacy to celebrate my birthday, we had to use a few different modes. First, the back of a flat bed truck to village number 1; next, footing, carrying our luggage on our heads, we made it up the major hill and rested with some Zambians under a giant tree for an hour or so until another truck came by– this time full of people, luggage, and petrol barrels on the back. We got all situated on top of a greasy barrel only to continue to sit for almost an hour as some men hopped off, cut down a tree, stripped it (in order to make rope), and tied the truck back together . . . o Getting back into Solwezi this week, I decide to hitch from the BOMA to Beth’s house and get a ride from PC early the next morning. They fit over 20 people and all their luggage (including chickens to sell in the market) onto the back of a small pick-up truck. Holding on for dear life, I spent the whole journey arguing with Zambian men over why I wouldn’t marry them (probably the conversation I have the most—I consider it cultural exchange). Telling them that I am going to make my husband do all the chores & raise the children, while I waste all the money on myself. They just laugh; I don’t think they get it. o And, from what we hear, it only gets worse. · 2 more snake sightings. One black long thing slithered into the grass as I was walking to the well. Did a little jump, yelled for Tukiya to run (I have this irrational fear that she is going to be eaten) and then screamed “mulolo mulolo” to my neighbors. The other occurred as I was racing home in the dark with no light, my bike slamming into and out of potholes, all the while I am praying I make it back to my village with no major crashes or, worse yet, snake encounters. . . And then there was the puff adder. · I celebrated my 23rd Birthday with a “Ghanaian feast” in the BOMA with the other Kasempa volunteers, plus Stacy & Heather, who came in from Mufumbwe (note: our feast standards should not be compared to Americans). We enjoyed some rice, beans, and banana fritters J and I got some handmade cards, a birthday crown, and a few other creative gifts from my friends here - It’s a toss up for favorite present this year between some balloons, a pack of pop rocks, or AAA batteries) I’m a little disappointed Heather didn’t give me the monkey some kids tried to sell here on the way in – she said she was really tempted but was afraid it might have rabies. Shucks. After dinner, a few of us went to some bar (again, can’t be compared to America) and we were going to enjoy a drink or two when, I was greeted by my headmaster (omit choice words) so anyways, we left and went to some house/bar/? that had a TV which was playing Zambian music videos. We spent the rest of the night watching the drunk ama guys dance in front of the TV, imitating the music videos & trying to show us their best moves. It was a memorable birthday. . . I would never have traded it for say, sitting under the Eiffel tower enjoying a glass of wine with some of my best friends like I did last year, noooo this was way better. Oh Africa. · Heather & Stacy came back to my site which was really nice. We did a lot of cooking and chatting and just enjoyed having a reason to stay up past dark. I had planned a little birthday party that turned into a much bigger deal thanks to a particular neighbor whom I love {Cough.to hate.Cough.} I was told I had to invite certain people in the village who I didn’t even know and had to provide food for everyone. We ended up settling on just sweet makoio, some fritters, and some no-bake cookies. Of course, she criticized everything she could about them, didn’t offer any to me or my friends, and then complained that she didn’t get to eat enough. She is quite the character – I could really write a book about her. Just not online. Anyways, it was really awkward and possibly troublesome since I couldn’t invite and provide food for the whole village, but it was kinda fun and cute. Plus, it was the most people I’ve ever had show up to something. One of the teachers has a stereo (but not enough batteries) so we hooked up his tape player to another counterpart’s solar charger, and together with a few of my Zambian tapes, we had music! My favorite teacher was the DJ and would dedicate songs to different couples I invited and then made them stand up and dance in front of everyone – and others were supposed to join in but, yeah, as I said it was awkward. Of course, they put the dancing chitenge on me and made me be up the whole time. If anything, I think it was good way of getting some of the village head people on my side. Thats all for now. I'm headed back to the village in the morning and will proabably not be back for a month (when I have to update my visa once again). I miss my puppy and am really hoping she is still alive. I had to leave her with a neighbor. . .

Miss you. Stay well.

Cait

I got a puppy! She is the cutest thing in the world & I'm a bit obsessed with her. She still needs a name but I want it to be in Kikaonde so we are working on it: right now, i think the top choices are Kabwa (dog) Kulala or lala (meaning sleep since thats all she does), Fosholo -- but nicknamed sholo (meaning shovel, because its just a great word, Tukeye (meaning we are going ... on a journey which is not yet completed, Mashinda ... or something like that, which means you will remember me, banga (short for tubangabanga which is star), makwakwa (road -- again, just fun to say), or tamwa (love). You can tell which were PCV suggestions vs. Kaonde people. Maybe we can take a vote. Let me know what you think. . .

Anyways, there are some pictures of her and of my first few weeks in the village. So take a look:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2028060&l=c6192&id=8501511

Kyawama! I survived my first two weeks on my own in Shapenda! I've been through a slew of emotions -- going back and forth between being happy & optimistic one moment to overwhelmed & feeling as though I am wasting my time the next -- but, on the whole, I've been surprisingly content. While days in the village tend to move very slowly, once I established somewhat of a routine, the time went by relatively quickly. I mean, there were definitely some hours spent staring at my homemade calendar on the wall and counting the days. . .first to provincials (24), then to IST (84), and finally to my close of service (somewhere in the realm of 700). For the most part, though, my time is occupied with slightly more constructive activities. I spend most of my time simply trying to be a good Zambian woman, and, I have to say, this is hard work: I get up, make fire, draw water from the well, attempt to walk back with it on my head (although, I am usually assisted along the way since its hard to hide that my neck is breaking & I am getting wet from my spills), I cook on my brazier, do dishes, sweep my house, occasionally do laundry or bathe . . . yeah, its amazing how quickly your cleanliness standards fall once you have to get & heat your own water. Not to mention, you don't really see too many other people who have the same hygiene standards. I'm not that bad yet, but I have to laugh because I was definitely the prissy trainee who was disgusted by the way PCVs lived and yet it didn't take me long to become gross myself. . .

I HATE sweeping! No matter how often I do it, things never stay clean. It doesn't help matters that I have a termite problem and the rats which scurry around at night upset the deteriorating beams and walls resulting in chucks of my house falling down. In general though, I just don't know how you can keep dirt out of a mud hut? They expect me to sweep outside my hut as well! I mean, I guess I see the difference between a well kept compound and mine, but really, you are just moving the dirt around. I can't see the point in it. I am often tempted with the idea of hiring help because, not only do I get bored with doing the same things day in and day out, but I'm just not that good at them. I had enough trouble doing my laundry in the states with a machine, and now, I am suddenly supposed to keep my whites their whitest when they are constantly being soiled with charcoal and dirt! A good number of volunteers hire people and in doing so provide some income for a villager who otherwise might not have any. I, however, feel like I need to do it myself, or at least prove that I can. Besides, at this point, I don't know what I would do with myself if I didn't have chores to do? As a woman, I think they expect more from you and, ultimately, I will be more accepted & respected if I do it on my own. A woman's work is never done, but this is especially true when in Zambia. They are freakishly strong, up at the crack of dawn, and going all day long. On top of all the household chores associated with caring for husbands and children, they are often found working in the fields with a baby strapped to their back, or, breastfeeding while walking with a 50 llb mealie meal sack on their head.

Aside from chores, I fill the remainder of my days with reading, listening to music and the BBC, journaling, the occasional letter writing, and a lot of chit chat with my neighbors. I have gone into the BOMA a few a times so I can get cell reception and can buy some things in the market. The ride is pretty challenging -- about 2hrs when going at a consistently swift pace; apparently its only 24 clicks, but it’s a bumpy, hilly bush path, so it seems much longer. Sadly, I really can't have conversations with the non-English speaking locals yet since my KiKaonde is not at its best and is quickly regressing the longer I go without using it. I have the greeting and what not down, but it's so hard to understand what they are saying to me. Even the simple stuff is hard to hear since they speak faster and with an accent I'm not used to. Also, I get really frustrated when they school me in proper pronunciation of the n'g sound or just keep repeating a word I don't know louder and louder, as if I am suddenly going to know it. They don't seem to understand that I need to hear the word & it's meaning, write it & then study it. I can't just hear ntakata and then kakatakata and not except me to get them confused. They grew up hearing five different dialects -- I grew up with one that in no way resembles it. Throw me a frickin' line here.

Fortunately, living by the school, there are several teachers and their families who speak Kizungu, so I can have relatively in-depth conversations and, thus, feel like I have some "friends." Most people are very welcoming and warm, but I still have reservations about some. When they are over eager to be your friend you question their motives. The kids are really cute and not too invasive. I have a little crew that comes buy each day since they know I have a "bolla" and play with it outside my hut. Sometimes they sit and watch me go about my day, but I don't really mind at the moment. . . I kind of enjoy the company. However, once school starts again and there are more people around, I can see it becoming a problem. Watching them play games and giggle generally makes me happy, but then, there is often a moment when the innocence of it all is tarnished as the sad reality of the situation hits me. These are the kids I used to watch on infomercials which guilt you into sponsoring a child-- dirty, in ragged clothing, with no shoes, and no opportunity for a better life. While they are having a good time playing with their tin can toys and little treasures they find in the trash, this won't satisfy them for long.

When I allow myself to think about "work" too much, I get upset & frustrated worrying I am going to be a complete failure and do nothing for my community. On day one or two I made a list of goals to complete during my first week ( I am semi-OCD when it comes to list making) It was a simple list which consisted of setting a few introductory meetings and completing PC forms like the community agreement and Emergency Action Plan. Ah, but nothing gets done easily in Zambia as their concept of time in no way resembles our own. It took me a whole week to meet with my two main counterparts and we have yet to complete the forms. The meetings. . . well. . . 2 didn't happen and the 1 that did was far from productive. Let's just say I really hope there aren't any emergencies on my end, because there is no plan: there are no phones, no radios, no hospitals, no doctors, and no vehicles to come save me.

Shapenda is very remote and spread out, so communication and transportation are always a problem. Most of the families are out in the fields now and won't return for many months, so I haven't had a chance to meet most of them or really learn anything helpful about the village. What I do know, scares me, because it seems to have an excess of problems but no one taking any initiative to improve the situation. There are no existing clubs or organizations to work with and they have problems as simple but crucial as water shortages and issues of food security. Add to that, limited knowledge and/or misinformation about HIV/AIDS, no information about income generation/ budgeting, destructive farming techniques, and I’m sure a plethora of issues I have yet to observe, and we begin to scratch the surface. While I have lots of ideas, I am only one person and if there is any hope of sustainable development, the initiative has to come from the community & individuals must take responsibility for project success. Unfortunately, many people you meet are apathetic and very expectant (& even demanding) of you, assuming, because you are white, you have all the answers and money. Also, there is a huge problem with alcoholism ... or at least I should say, its all too common to see groups of men sitting beneath a tree drinking malwa instead of doing something productive with their time. This is not to say there are not many intelligent, motivated and promising individuals trying to move their country forward, there are . . . it just happens that most of them are in Lusaka or other cities where they can see some rewards for their work. The villages (especially in the NorthWest), are still very set in their traditional ways, and sadly, have not seen many of the advancements of more developed areas. They are wonderful, friendly, and generous people, it's just hard to convince them to change the way they have been doing things for generations.

Even though I am in my community entry period and the pressure should be off, I can't help but feel overwhelmed at times. For now, I am just going to try and focus on learning the language and getting to know my village ... and when worst comes to worse, I will try to remember the old PCV adage, "2 out of three aint bad" . . . this, of course, in reference to the 3 PC goals, 2 of which are cultural exchange. That I can manage.

Since I don’t really know what else to say, I figured I would take a few excerpts from my journal so you can have an idea of some of my daily experiences:

Friday, April 6th 2007

“It’s my very 1st night on my own in Shapenda. I am feeling surprisingly OK . . . a little sick (not sure if it’s from stress, food, or a manifestation of un-vented feelings) but overall, I’m doing much better than I thought I would. I’ve got my i-pod on as loud as it goes to block out all scary noises & my mosquito net is secured around me so I feel relatively safe in my bubble. The fact that there is a gaping hole in between my walls & thatch, spiders all over my walls, a mere kitenge stuffed under my unlocked door to act as a deterrent to snakes, & Oh the fact that I’m in the MIDDLE OF NOWHERE, has yet to hit me b/c if it did, I would be having a panic attack right now . . . Ba Patrick came to pick me up around 7:15 this morning to post me. . . the path to Shapenda went on FOREVER, seriously, way longer than I remembered. The dirt road is red & pot-holed & all there is are trees & bush on either side for miles! We’ll see how long it takes me by bike, but I’m getting really panicky thinking about it – what if I get sick or hurt or there’s an emergency? When we finally arrived at Shapenda, there was no one really around. Mrs. Andende (my headmaster’s wife) eventually came out and showed me to my house – which wasn’t finished! It looked worse than when I was here on site visit. So I guess instead of fixing it up like they were supposed to, they just left it to the termites & bugs. The door (or rather, piece of rotting wood) was off the hinges & out of fear, I didn’t go to look at the pit latrine or bathing shelter. Ba Patrick said something in KiKaonde and then said we would just put my things in the school until they finished preparing the house. Ah, not a good sign, esp. when everyone says I’m lucky since my community is super excited and motivated. Didn’t seem like it. And where was my headmaster … oh, at the bar drinking. Typical. {By the way, now I’m getting a bit freaked; I can’t ignore the noises – even if it is only rats, rats attract snakes & just writing the word scares the crap out of me. . .

Saturday, April 7th

So I spoke to soon about the “no fear” factor – I think I feel asleep last night, but I quickly woke up to all sorts of noises and never really went back. It got really hot & I felt like I was being eaten alive by microscopic bugs! Here’s hoping the same thing doesn’t happen tonight – I just took 2 large sleeping pills . . . I went to the BOMA this morning with Mr. M . . . stopped at the post & got 2 letters & a package slip so I was really happy/excited! Yet, I also felt really upset or something & kind of wanted to cry. I just felt really alone for the first time and overwhelmed at the prospect of 2yrs like this. . . Got a text from a friend – its amazing how the littlest note from someone in the same place/ questioning phase could bring so much relief. It made me feel a whole lot better but also makes me miss my trainees. . . I really like having my own hut and am excited to have my new one built so I can really settle in. Although, I’m already feeling guilty & questioning my values/ character because I still want more things . . . I had a visit from my counterpart’s daughter who was very nice & spoke English fluently! She talked about “having misbehaved” (a.k.a had a baby) but now she is back in grade 12 and wants to be a nurse. Her daughter is adorable and is named Kate! So now, I just tell people she is my namesake (which they love) & can then sort of pronounce my real name rather than this Katherine business! . . .

Sunday, April 8th

“It’s 20hrs now and since I’m sitting staring at my newly made calendar waiting for my rice to cook, I figured I would write. It’s amazing how I can procrastinate even when I have nothing to do – I’m so unproductive its ridiculous! . . . my hut is feeling more and more like home. I risked pulling down the whole thing by hanging my hammock from the beams – but waala! I am now swinging in a hammock and only knocked down one brick in the process! . . . I think I am becoming slightly OCD – my list making has reached a new height & even now I am fighting the urge to make more. . .Today is Easter, my first that went by pretty much unacknowledged. I ate a hard boiled egg and opened the card from Stina which she fortunately told me to hold until now -- I went to the Catholic church since it is supposed to be the same everywhere and I figured I would have some idea of what they were saying. Not quite. It was a little disappointing since, I guess unknowingly, I was expecting a huge turnout and lots of celebrating. There was some dancing and singing so it was more entertaining than American Catholics, but just not too many people since they are all out in the fields. I think the real celebration was last night because I heard beautiful singing all night long – I wish I had gone but I was soo tired.

Monday, April 9th:

Went to the fields today with the Mwalusambas. They are very excited to "teach me so many things" and they want me to try all their foods so that I "get very fat & my family will know Zambia is good". . . when i got back I played soccer with the kiddies and then tried to teach them duck-duck-goose only to be shown up by a way cooler version where you sing a song and throw a ball at the person running! . . . Later, since I had an audience while cooking dinner, I brought out some photos from home and all of the kids went crazy. They really can't tell which one I am -- its kind of depressing, I mean I know I look better in the photos but you would think I would be recognizable! I think it have more to do with the fact that muzungus all look the same to them. It's fun though; kinda like playing "Where's Waldo" only with "Kwepi Caitlin" -- they laugh and chat in disbelief. . . I put some Zambian music on and they were shocked & entertained that I knew K'million and Danny.

Tuesday, April 10th:

. . . was super tired this morning because I stayed up watching Grey's Anatomy & the Colbert Report on my i-pod. I forgot I had put them on before I left & didn't realize they were episodes I hadn't seen. It was the most blissful hour of my life. I really felt like I was back in America . . . and then it ended and I remembered the rats, spiders, and pee bucket next to my bed and snapped back into reality. . . the evil post lady wouldn't give me my package since i didn't have an alien registration card & she"didn't know me like the others" & told me to come back with an ID. I told her I was going to cry seeing as I just biked 2+hrs just for this and I was new in Zambia and just wanted my mail! She didn't budge, but, later gave it to me when I got a random teacher I met to sign for it. She said that was proper protocol -- ok sure lady, having a perfect stranger vouch for my identity is proper protocol. only in Zambia.

Friday, April 13th:

. . . I was very surprised to see Ba Patrick, Timo, and another PC staff member walking towards my house. It's so weird to see white people in the village! Timo stuck out like a sore thumb. Anyways, they were in the area scouting out a place for the new LIFE volunteer . . . apparently they had made bets on me -- where I would be & if i had been into the BOMA -- the LIFE APCD had bet I would be inside crying and had not yet been into the BOMA! I was glad to prove him wrong but I thought it was pretty funny. . .

Saturday, April 14th:

. . . had my meeting with the headmen and my housing committee this morning. . . my headmaster was supposed to be translating for me what I didn't say in KiKaonde, but in reality, was just saying whatever he wanted!!! He would finish and say "Next!" like some dictator when I wasn't even finished. I just wanted to have open dialogue and make sure they really understood why i was there but instead, i think it was counterproductive & very frustrating! . . . i went around to different villages to greet people. Everyone was really nice but it was a bit awkward and embarrassing saying the same thing over and over. Plus, I know i am re-introducing myself to the same people, but really, how am I supposed to keep everyone straight! They all remember my name, of course. People I don't even meet know my name! Oh well, the important thing is that I got out there and tried.

Tuesday, April 17th:

. . . I had a collision with a snake! OMG! It was like my worst nightmare only it happened so quickly I didn't have time to react properly. I was riding along pretty fast and was somewhat distracted since I had my i-pod on, so when I finally noticed the snake speeding across the road, it was too late. . . and I went straight into it!! I'm not sure if I hit him or what, but it reared its ugly head up almost touching my calf -- it was so close it could have easily bitten me. Thank God I was going so fast b/c by the time we collided, I was already on my way -- despite not peddling and screaming on the top of my lungs. As I looked back it was slithering back into the bush with half its body up like a cobra. I'm not sure what kind it was -- it was a blue, almost silvery color -- but regardless, it was really long and disgusting and yea, kinda traumatizing. . . Brenda came by to visit this evening and was listening to Zam music so I let her listen to my i-pod and we danced as all the kids watched. I told her she needed to teach me to dance like a Zambian, but she ended up watching and imitating me, saying, "oh this is how you dance in america?" Ha, I can't dance. If only she knew . . .

Wednesday, April 18th:

FIRE! Kyatama Bingi! I was just setting up to have a quiet productive day of chores when disaster struck. I had put my brazier under my kinzanza and was simultaneously heating water for bathing and roasting some sweet potatoes. I brought my laundry outside and (stupidly, i admit) put them on a small table not too far away. I went inside for maybe 2 mins, just enough time to make my new favorite mocha drink and daydream about the goodness of refridgorators and Starbuck's frappaccinos, when, i came outside to see my laundry basket on top of my braizer in flames! I quickly threw the buckets of water on top but it was too late. So sad, almost everything i wear in the villiage is now ruined -- not to mention, my lunch and my peaceful afternoon. You have to wonder sometimes why you have such bad luck. I sat there for a moment in disbelief. Thought about crying. Thought about going home. and then came to my senses. I have no right to get upset when I know all I have to do is wait a few months for a package or go buy clothes in the market. . . its not like that was all of my possessions like it would have been for a villager. I probably lost more than most of them own -- plus, they would probably still wear them, holes, singed and all. I quickly went from hating life to hating myself for being so self-centered. Meanwhile, Grace stopped by and brought me a giant bag of groundnuts she had just picked. It further reminded me that "stuff" doesn't matter as long as you have kind people around who care about you.

Thursday, April 19th:

About to leave for Kasempa to meet the chief, but am told my chicken is too small . . . whatever happened to "its the thought that counts"? and besides, this is so typical, they are the ones who arranged for me to buy the chicken so i would have it to present, and now they suddenly realize its for the chief

{i'm getting tired of typing & I'm sure you are getting tired of reading so I'll spare you the details -- i ended up doing the normally challenging bike ride with my backpack on plus a women, and a chicken on my carrier only to be turned away by the chief because my headman had failed to make an appointment. Oh course, this was after they told me my chicken wasn't good enough and i needed to pay money on top of it! }

From the time I arrived in Zambia, I have been hearing the phrase, "oh, you will be used" in reference to just about everything from pit latrines, to loving N'shima, to speaking Zamblish and to finding ways to cope with isolation. Well, I think it's finally happening . . . bit by bit, I am getting used. Everyday, as I become more familiar with my hut and surroundings, I feel a bit more comfortable & at home. While nothing has changed outside myself, I am becoming less fearful, stronger, more knowledge, and confident in my abilities. . . and it feels good. Things that seemed so foreign a few months ago, no longer phase me and its only when I sit back and think about it, that I realize I no longer recognize my life.

Although I was doing just fine in the village, I have to say, I was glad to have the excuse to come into Solwezi and see friends, not to mention, get back to a world filled with internet, movies, and more importantly, electricity and flush toilets. It's always a nice break.

'Til next time. Mushale Bulongo Bakwetu Bami.

I am now a Peace Corps Volunteer a whole 5 days, 14 hours, & 42 minutes into my two year commitment. . . not that I’m counting or anything.

The week before swear-in was really hectic and went by a little too quickly for me. We had our final language simulation, tech presentation, admin sessions, & lots of evaluations. We had only a little time to hang out as trainees, because, on top of the usual training, we also had to get outfits made for swear-in (which turned out to be a challenge/story in its own) & had to buy “remembrances” for our home-stay families. I got a few little things since I really enjoyed my family, but the biggest hits were the soccer ball & small radio player. Robbie’s face just lit up when he opened his very own football & my Tata came out of the hut holding the cassette player to his ear dancing :-) It was fantastic! I gave them a tape of Shakira “my hips don’t lie” & a tape of Danny Champion, who is ridiculously popular here in Zambia (they play the same 2 songs over and over again – you should search for him on i-tunes & listen). After I gave them their remembrances, I made them some s’mores over the brazier, which they LOVED, & we listened to Shakira & Danny again and again. I also practiced my speech for them and had them in tears laughing when I got to the end & said this phrase they like to say about being pure kaondes washed with water & only eating sorgum n’shima. I don’t quite get it, but they loved it.

It’s a really hard place for me to be in because you really are not supposed to give people much, if anything, for various reasons. While I understand the repercussions of it, at the same time, I struggle with it because I know that I could help/ bring joy to people so easily with just a little money or a small gift. I’m sure this will only become more challenging the longer I am here and the more friends I make. I was fortunate that my family was very grateful & generous to me as well, because, I had several friends who loved their families but then had bad experiences at the end when they asked them for money or criticised their small gifts. Its just really hard & I could go on about it for hours but I will save that for another time & place. . .

The land cruiser came to pick me up in the morning and, while i was really sad to go, I was ready. Plus, I’m lucky that training is close to Lusaka, so I know I will be able to go back and visit. They gave me a note with their address on it and made me promise to write. I still have yet to fully translate the note. . . All I know is that is says thank you, something about Jesus, and something about me being a full-time Kaonde. . .

We sworn in on Friday at the Lusaka Headquarters with a small ceremony attended by some representatives of the American embassy, Zambian government, Chongwe Chiefdom, former Peace Corps volunteers, & all of our trainers & staff. I had to give a little speech in KiKaonde so I spent most of the morning being nervous about messing up – but, I’m told I did a good job & made my teacher very proud. We took lots of pictures (which you can see below) & went out to celebrate that evening. We went to a little karaoke bar for some dinner & singing, got locked inside by the crazy owner who thought we were trying to leave without paying & then headed to a PC favorite, Alpha Bar, for some dancing. It was fun but also sad since I won’t get to see most of the people for 3 months & many of the trainers are leaving for good.

The next morning they swept us away to our respective provinces in the fully crammed land cruisers. I hate that they give us no time to breathe and just take everything in … everything is go-go-go & then all of the sudden they drop you in the village and time will seize to exist. There is no happy medium! The past few days we have been running around Solwezi trying to buy everything we will need in our villages. Peace Corps gave us a nice settling-in allowance – It’s the first & only time I will be able to say I am a millionaire . . . so what if its in kwacha ;-) I loaded up on toilet paper, candles, buckets, basins, jerry cans, & enough food to last me for months! I’m so sick of the market & bargaining, but its one of the few times I will have transport out to my site, so I have to take advantage of it. On top of the shopping, we have had some time to relax and hang out with some of the PCVs who were in the house prior to their Easter vacations. One night they took us to the waterfall bar, which, as you might have guessed, is a bar next to a waterfall… but the nice part is you can have a drink while sitting in the waterfall or go for a little swim. It was fun, but now I have some stalker texting me every few hours professing his love for me. It’s pretty annoying but also pretty funny; I normally wouldn’t give people my number but this one was a friend of a friends & I thought I was going to be able to use him for transportation. Not anymore.

So, tomorrow is the big day… possibly the scariest & most memorable I will ever have… TOMORROW, I will be dropped in my village, all my things will be thrown out of the cruiser, & they will drive far away leaving me all by myself for the first time. Agghhhh! I am so nervous just thinking about it … They say to take in the moment because you will never experience anything like it again. There is always a few who end up crying and a couple who run after the vehicle – that might just be me. With that said, I am also really excited as this is the reason I am here & I do want to begin my life in the village. It just that it’s scary to be pushed out of the nest. I hope that I can rise to the occasion and quickly feel like I am a part of my community. A few of my friends have already been posted and the Lundas left this morning for their sites. I have gotten a few short texts which are not very reassuring – just shocked & not knowing what to do. Although, one guy is pretty happy because he saw a crocodile (i don't think that would make me so excited). I really wish I had cell phone service so that I could text people in the middle of the night when I am scared out of my mind. I bought a bunch of things to snake proof my house, but I have been told it is hopeless and that if they want to get in, they will. I have only met maybe 2 NW volunteers who HAVEN’T had a snake in their house! We are supposed to stay in the village until provincials which are in mid-may but (fortunately) we might have to come in a few weeks from now to get our visas worked out. I think I will be more than ready.

I hate to go since it means I am that much closer to being finished in Solwezi and off to the unknown. Wish me luck & maybe say a prayer that I survive my first few weeks & meet some helpful, friendly, English speaking neighbors!

I’m off to the bush! Tukamona’agana!

It turns out facebook is the fastest way to upload photos & they now have the option to view them even if you aren't a member! It's things like this that make me love facebook oh so very much . . .

so click here (or copy & paste) :

http://pepperdine.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2026512&l=cc138&id=8501511

http://pepperdine.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2025285&l=d0b24&id=8501511

http://pepperdine.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2025084&l=6e765&id=8501511

I can't believe training is already over! We had our "mock" examination for language yesterday which went okay, and then the real thing is on Tuesday. After that, we just have a little presentation for TECH, medical checkups, & evaluations. We will be moving out of our home stays on Wednesday and heading to a hostel in Lusaka. Swear-in will be Friday afternoon & I just found out I have to give a speech representing my language group on national TV. . . its a good thing most people don't have TVs &/or speak KiKaonde, so I don't have to be too nervous about messing up. This time next week, I will be back in NorthWestern preparing to be posted.

Yesterday we put on an "American Culture Day" for our host families & trainers. We spent all day preparing a feast of American favorites (or as close to them as possible). It was a lot of work but I was surprised at how well everyone worked together. A couple of us were commenting on how cooperative people were & how everyone was very helpful throughout the whole day --- I guess that's what happens when you are in a group of volunteers :-) Anyways, we were all a little worried that we weren't going to have enough food or that we wouldn't finish in time, but it really came together. We only had two stove tops to work on & we were trying to prepare food for about 150 people, so people were lighting braziers and cooking on them outside. I wish you could have seen the food prep: people making homemade tortillas with their nalgene bottles as rolling pins, chopping vegetables with our leathermans, making mashed potatoes in big vats with just forks & spoons, Court & me preparing the "taco" meat with spices -- up to our elbows in raw meat, trying not to vomit ... it was quite the effort on all parts.

Our families arrived via PC transport dressed in their "Sunday best." They were all so excited and entered our little tent area singing. We had a little session on diversity in America (i.e. My family is from Japan/Mexico, my grandparents immigrated and were very poor, my family is Jewish/Buddhist, etc., but we are all still American.) I think it was really good for them to see since most people have the belief that we are all white & rich. We also put a bunch of photos up of our families & different parts of the country. After our delicious meal, we all danced for a bit and then had another presentation. We had planned on saying a little thank-you to our host-families in our respective languages but once we finished they announced that they had thank-yous for us too! It was so unexpected and humbling. Each village presented us with gifts of "remembrance." They lined up by villages and started singing and dancing in line as they one by one presented their host-child with presents. It was a little overwhelming but beautiful to witness. . . again, I am just amazed at the generosity of the Zambian people. They don't have enough money to buy food or clothing many times, but every family got us something, no matter how small. I got a broom, a wicker bowl & spoon, and some cups :-) Afterwards, we put some music on and danced for a bit with our families -- It was really great & I wish it could have lasted longer, but we lost power as it had been storming earlier & our families had to head back before dark. Despite a few rain showers (ok, maybe downpours) the night was a big success and all our families seemed to have a great time.

Well, my time is just about up, so I should be going. I need to get some errands done while in town rather than spending my whole time on-line. I'm hoping I will be able to post some more pictures once I'm in Solwezi. I will try to include some trains & hippos for my favorite little guys next time ;-) Miss you all.

So I spoke too soon on the picture thing. There are a few up on my shutterfly account but I'm not really sure how to link it to you all. My dad logged on for me and should have sent you an invitation to view them. I don't know . . . if you want to see them but can't, let me know and I'll figure it out. I have been spending way too much time & money at Internet cafes. The guy who runs the one in Solwezi already knows my name and is giving me a discounted rate for being his best customer. Just yesterday, I spent over 50,000 kwacha!

On a side note, I just found out one of my best friends is engaged and it makes me miss home ... I won't say who yet, just so those of you who know her can have the fun of hearing the news from her, and/or discovering it on facebook.

I'm finally back in Lusaka after a 10 hour bus ride. It was pretty miserable. Fortunately, my language teacher is wonderful and actually got special permission for us to stay the night with his family in Lusaka so that we could relax & use the Internet today. His wife is just as generous & welcoming as he is and took great care of us. After dinner & cocoa, we stayed up talking about traditional Zambian beliefs like witchcraft and they asked us about different American superstitions and whatwhat. We also watched some bootlegged version of The Terminator before the power went out -- Ba Golden loves Arnold!

The past two weeks were great but stressful & tiring in there own way, so it was really nice to be able to spend a quite night at "home." There was probably some 30 people staying in the Solwezi house, which meant we didn't get much sleep/studying done. As much as I don't want to go back to training, I'm really excited to catch up with the other trainees and hear about their sites.

One funny story from this week: Heather and I were meeting up with our language teacher so that we could actually get started on our cultural presentation which we have to give this coming week. We got the assignment almost a month ago and had decided on doing a traditional dance, but, we had yet to find someone who could actually teach us. We kept trying to ask our host families, but my bamaama just smiles and laughs saying "yes, yes, katherine, zhai!" and nothing ever comes of it, while Heather's BaMaama makes an appointment to teach us and then forgets to come (seeing as how she is always drunk). Our trainer kept saying its "no problem" and that there are plenty of people to teach us, but alas, still nothing. Zambians have good intentions but never come through on anything. No one seems to realize that I'm not about to willingly stand up in front of all the trainers and trainees and make a fool of myself -- i mean, yes, I probably will anyways, but i would like to have a little practice! So anyways, time keeps passing and i keep trying to get out of it, but Heather really wants to do it and now Ba Golden really wants us to learn it as well.

So finally, this past week, he told us he would rally some KiKaonde women to teach us. Of course when we get there he is still hanging out with someone in his hotel room and tells us we will just take a walk to find some women. We were like, oh, so you don't know of anyone? To which he said the women staying at his hotel were Lunda, but it was "no problem" anyone can teach us. So we go walking and he finds some women sitting at their home, explains to them that we need to learn, and then leaves us to chat with the women and practice using our Kikaonde. . . wasn't so successful. We sat there for an hour before they finally acknowledged that they didn't actually know the dance and that we must find some old women to teach us. At this point, I really just want to give up and brew some pineapple wine instead, but Ba Golden wouldn't let us. We kept going down a path for a while into some sort christian training center/ village. He walked into someones "yard" as they were preparing dinner and greeted them. Again, he explained what we wanted to do and some older women came and sat with us on some stools under a tree. They described what the girl must do on the day of the dance and then told us to come inside so they could show us. We were so excited because we thought we were finally going to learn it. We entered this mud brick church which has been converted into a home and stood on a reed mat in between some sofas. The grandma starts to move her hips and shoulders (they really are amazing -- this 70 yr old woman can shake it!) So we start to follow her when she then lays on the ground. . . there wasn't a lot of room so me and heather are on the sofas at this point observing. You have to understand most of the traditional dances here seem very sexual, so, heather and i just thought this might be part of the dance. She then motions for us to join her. I am already laughing pretty hard at this point and I'm refusing to join, telling heather she has to go first since shes the one who is making me do it to begin with. Well Heather lays across from the grandma but reversed thinking she is just going to move her hips and whatnot. The old ladies start laughing and make her turn around. Then, she scoots up close to her, grabs her hip and puts heather's hand on her hip, and starts "dancing" ... apparently, the bamaamas thought we wanted to learn how to "dance on the mattress" and not the dance which the girls preform in public. It may have been the funniest moment of my life. We came walking out with tears in our eyes and told Ba Golden we had had enough dancing for now. At least now we have a good story for our presentation :-)

The dance that we had wanted to learn is one which is preformed when girls mature and are ready for marriage. We got to see it preformed about a month ago and have been wanting to learn it ever since. The girls go and spend a month or two in seclusion with just their grandmothers and maybe some aunts and cousins. During this time, they are taught how to be women: how to cook & clean, personal hygiene, how to be a good hostess, how to take care of your husband, how to be a good mother, etc. Once they are ready, the whole village celebrates at one of these "coming out" ceremonies. Traditionally, this would be the time when men could come and state there intention to marry the girls, but now it is more symbolic (although it still happens out in rural areas).

It was definitely one of the coolest things I've ever seen, especially since I wasn't expecting it at all. I was eating dinner with my Bamaama when she kept telling me "kuzha katherine kuzha" and started shaking her hips. I just thought she meant we were going to dance, but as it turned out there was one of these ceremonies for two young girls in the village and they wanted me to go watch. My little sister, Joycie, took me by the hand and guided me through the dark. We met up with the other Kaonde trainees and a bunch of village kids who all giggled about bringing the muzungos to dance. We arrived at a hut in amidst a corn field and were greeted by a bunch of old women who took us inside and had us sit on a reed mat. We anxiously waited for the ceremony to begin, feeling a little awkward but also welcome as a part of this group. It was like being part of a secret women's society but only instead of having to do weird things because it is "tradition," we were actually there with 4 generations of women who were passing on a unique piece of their culture right there in front of us. It was such an important & special night for the girls, but even more for the grandmothers, aunts, and cousins who got to present the young girls as women. Finally, a door opened and a mother guided one of the young girls, who was covered in a blanket, outside. They sat her on the floor and uncovered her: She wore just a chitenge on her bottom, while her top was bare except for some beaded necklaces used for decoration. Her body was painted with some mud & oil and her hair was braided so that it covered her face with all sorts of colorful strands. They then added some type of beaded accessories to her hips and legs so that when she danced, the beads clinked together. At this point the women started yelling "ayaiyaiayaiyayaiya" and hurried us out of the room -- we were really confused and not sure what we had done, but then we were escorted to another home where a bunch of women and some kids had gathered. The women were preparing the ground by spreading bunga (flour) on the ground in circles and then covering it with a chitenge material. Meanwhile, the drumming had begun and some little ones were showing off their dance moves. Eventually everyone started yelling and the door of the hut opened to show the two young girls.

The drums started playing and all the people began singing. Then the girls started to dance & didn't stop for a good 30 minutes. In the dance they would act out all of the things they had been taught during their their 1-2 months of seclusion ... It was amazing. The beating drums, together with the sound of the beads shaking, and the chanting of the villagers just consumed us. I think it was the first time I really felt like everything hit me: I'm in a village in Zambia, standing in the dark of the night with only the stars above giving us light, and witnessing a ceremony which has been done for generations! It was by far one of the most memorable moments ive had thus far. Unfortunately, Stacy's Batata made us come home once they finished dancing, because the "rascals" had arrived and he didn't want them trying to dance with us. They actually stay up all night & have another part of the ceremony the following day.

This week we are back to training. We only have two more weeks before swear in, and we have lots of testing and activities, so I know its going to fly by. Hopefully, I'll get to write again soon :-)

before I forget, I have a new address! please STOP sending mail to the Lusaka address and START sending mail to the following:

Caitlin Dunn

P.O. Box 120045

Kasempa, (NorthWestern Province)

Zambia, Africa

If you are going to send a care package -- which I would love you more than you can imagine for -- they advice you to write some sort of bible talk on the package to deter any theft. Also you should list on the inside what the contents of the package are so that I will know if its been tampered with. You should also number your letters so I can make sure I getting them all.

In case you would like to send me something but are not sure what to send, I've made a *little* list of some of the things we are all craving or could use. . .

BATTERIES (AA/AAA)

DRINK MIXES (packets of Chrystal light, gatoraide, propel, etc)

anti-bacterial hand sanitizer (soooo many germs!)

face wipes/body wipes/ face wash (I'm dirty, ok)

Music (mixed tapes?)

PICTURES of home, if possible, laminated so they don't get destroyed (i miss you all and want to see your beautiful faces and, plus, the Zambians love to see what life in America is like -- its impossible to describe since they have nothing to reference it to)

old DVD's or VHS (we have a TV at the PH but unfortunately most of the movies are guy movies --- anyone want to send Grey's Anatomy or Desperate Housewives episodes??)

Games (whoever comes to visit first, must bring me my cranium, Paula & Rach, you know how much i miss it. . . also, I just discovered we have sega genesis so if anyone has an old sonic the hedgehog lying around, I used to love that game)

Gifts for my community/family (coloring books & crayons, soccer balls, anything you can think of)

lotion or good smelling stuff ( i would like to feel like a girl again)

Aloe vera & sunscreen (do I really need to elaborate?)

Harmonica

Seeds (for my attempt at gardening)

FOOD: cliff bars, Mac-n-cheese, pre-packaged rice or soup mixes, CHOCOLATE (dark or reeses PB cups -- they might melt but it would be worth it -- we have no standards anymore), corn bread mix, Cheese (velveeta, parm, queso, anything), SPICES (old bay! and anything that can make the blandest of foods taste good), sweeties (we all crave sugar all the time, its terrible, but we have started eating pixie sticks to get us through the day -- life savers, jolly ranchers, cream savers, use your imagination)

Really, LETTERS are the most appreciated. I know the packages are really expensive so don't worry about those unless I call you "Dad" or "Mom" . . . Mail makes our day, you have no idea. I know this is a shameless plea but, like I said, PC volunteers loose all dignity and pride in many areas of life.

This past week has been so refreshing!

We headed off to Solwezi early Sunday morning after only a few hours of sleep the night before. Our party was a great success . . . a little out of control but nothing too ridiculous. It was just a much needed celebration after being treated like 5 year olds for the past month. EVERYONE was dancing and having a good time. There was a solar eclipse that night so most of us stayed up to watch that before crashing in a nearby tent.

Eston (our PCVL), came to take us up to NorthWestern in the land cruiser. It was a VERY long & uncomfortable ride with 10 people, 7 bikes, groceries & bags for 2 weeks. We made it to the provincial house in Solwezi where we were greeted by several of the NW volunteers who had come in to greet us. NW has a reputation for being a frat house since it is has the most number of volunteers and most of them are guys. . . when we got there I thought the house was pretty dirty, but I was informed that it was actually looking really nice. Apparently they had spent all day cleaning and cooking for us. I think they were excited to be getting 5 new girls and didn't want to scare us away. I'm really excited because they have 2 "guard" dogs at our house, one of which is the cutest thing. His name is Boss and he is a Boer Bull -- I'm hoping that they have some new puppies soon so that I can get one. I know it would be irresponsible, but I can't help it, it might just end up being my new best friend.

Monday morning we were dropped at the local bus station, which was very dirty and shady to say the least. Eston had gotten us tickets and had arranged for us to take our bikes, but as soon as he left the driver and his friends tried to tell us we had to buy them a drink in order to take our bikes. . .yes the driver... the transport situation is NOT so safe here. PC "says" they don't want us to hitch, but everyone basically acknowledges that hitching (even in the back of a flat bed truck with chickens, goats, and 20 other people) might just be the safer bet. We finally managed to get on the bus (when I told him we'd get him a drink upon our safe arrival) and proceeded to wait for over an hour before the bus left. I'm sorry to say that this was probably one of the nicest modes of transport i will be taking over the next 2yrs. It was a large bus and despite the huge sheet of shattered glass in front of the driver, was in fairly good condition. We only had people sitting right up on us for about half the ride. Eston had told us it would take anywhere from 5-10 hours to get to Mufumbwe but we made it in 3 -- the roads had been redone recently . . . and they bride the police to let them good 100+mph. Stacy & I got off in Mufumbwe BOMA to meet with Nic, the girl Stacy would be replacing, while Heather was on her own for another 15km or so. Unfortunately, she missed the "giant butt" which was modeled after her replacement volunteer and had to find her way back with her bike, bag, and huge bag of groceries. She is quite the trooper.

Nic took us to her place (she had a sweet set up -- 3 large rooms in her hut just outside the BOMA) and showed us around town. Oh, the advantages of living in the BOMA! Not only did she have a lot of friends who spoke English, but there was a bakery which sold chocolate cake and banana bread with icing and they were actually made with *real* flour rather then this mealie meal mix! Mufumbwe is a really cute town: just a long flat red dirt road lined with a few little stores on either side -- it looks like something out of the 50's . . . only African. . . so instead of a soda parlor there is a tree with packets of whiskey hanging from it, and instead of a general store there is a pool hall/bar/guesthouse that only gets electricity maybe 2hrs a day! The best part is the lack of "ama" guys a.k.a. drunk guys who harass you everywhere you go. It was quite the tease to have to spend most of my site visit here because this is the district i was supposed to be in before they had to make the last minute change. So, I followed Stacy along meeting all her counterparts and getting to know the boma that I wouldn't be living near -- the part that is worst is that Stacy, Heather, and i were supposed to work in a triad but now I'm the only RED volunteer in Kasempa :-( Of well, i had a good visit ... Stacy and I learned some tricks of the trade -- like how to start the brazier, how to do our laundry in an assembly line, and how to cook some really creative meals! Nic showed us how to make homemade tortillas on the brazier so after she made us soya "tacos," we experimented and surprised her by making a (if i do say so myself) *fabulous* curry with squash, rape, sweet potatoes, corn, and our version of garlic naan to eat it with . . . it helps when you come with groceries from Lusaka :-) We have been eating NON-STOP this week trying to make up for all the Nshima of home stay.

On Thursday, Eston came by to help pull Nic & Kim & bring me to Kasempa. We took a trip to Kim's house (the girl Heather is replacing) and then to drop off something at Matt's (a RAP volunteer). We enjoyed going on the little tour because its always good to see other people's sites so we can get some hut improvement ideas. Matt is currently working on an outdoor tub and a two story hut to admire his lovely view. . . we'll see how successful this is. On the way back, the land crusier was completely packed so I had to ride down the road sitting on top of Stacy & Heather . . . these are very bumpy roads & I was happy to survive the trip. (I trust Eston, its okay, he's a very safe driver). Anyways, after we dropped the girls back in Mufumbwe we had to rush to meet the Kasempa volunteers for a "Ghanian feast" in the BOMA. Kasempa is really beautiful!!! There are bigger hills and lots of trees which makes for a nice change of scenery. I was really worried about going here since I'm the only one from my intake, but I think it will all work out. The BOMA itself is a little more typical of Zambia -- a lot of trash & ama guys BUT, there are meat pies, bunzies, and other ready-made food. Not to forget, the ghanian feast you can have with a days notice. Also, and more importantly, I got to meet most of the other Kasempa volunteers and they were all really great -- very welcoming and just a lot of fun to be around. After dinner we headed back to the Castles' house to celebrate Mr. Castle's birthday. The Castles are actually the same age as me but everyone refers to them as Mr. & Mrs. Castle since they are such the perfect little married couple. They have their own little suburbia in the middle of Zambia. Their house is huge -- they even have a guest room and an oven made from mud! So, of course, Mrs. Castle had baked him a delicious cake for his b-day. So, in my district is the Castles, Dave, Timo, Tess, Amy and Beth. I'm just gonna go ahead with the name dropping because I'm sure you will hear a lot more about them in the future. Tess is my closest neighbor- only 8km away which is insane for PC especially NW -- so I really lucked out in that sense. She is an HIV/AIDS volunteer and I'm sure will be a huge help to me.

The next day we went to the Ministry of Education to have a very informal introduction to some people I will be working with and after that we headed out to Shapenda, the village I will be moving to! I met with the headmaster of the school and some other community leaders – they were all very nice and excited to meet me. It was a little nerve racking to see the place where I will all too soon be dropped off and left on my own. I am really beginning to get nervous because not only can I not speak Kikaonde yet, but I really don’t know what I am going to be doing or what is expected of me. I mean we have learned about a lot of different projects we might do in training but I don’t really know what my primary job is … a lot of the problem is that you don’t really have a specific job description and you can do whatever you want. You go from being babysat in training to having all the autonomy in the world. Much of the volunteer’s role is simply getting to know the community and observing what the problems are. We are supposed to find out what the people need or want help with and work with them to find solutions. I just prefer to have tasks delegated to me and am not super confident about my creative abilities. It didn’t help that the guy at the Ministry said, “oh, I thought you were sending a male” and then they all told me my community is really motivated and excited but that they are really interested in fish farming and they have to keep reminding them I am an education volunteer. I’m sure it will work out but it worries me a little. . . maybe I will learn to dig some fish ponds?

Some good news: I actually have a nice house to live in until they build me my own. It’s right next to the school and I’m on the same compound as a teacher in the school. This should be helpful since the teachers are usually the only ones who speak English in the villages and it will be conducive to working with the school. They then showed me the site they have picked out to build my future home on once the rains stop. It is right next to the headman and some men on my housing committee because they were very concerned about my “safety and security.” Eston was a little concerned since it appeared to just be the chief and some other men around but it turns out they are all married – I’m hoping they are a nice family and that they have some little kids around too. I'm a little skeptical as to how long it is going to be before i have a home but the community does seem to be on track and motivated. I just really want to get settled in and start making my hut into a home. Hopefully, I will get to help in designing it!

The only bad news is that I don’t get cell phone reception in Shapenda. Even though I wasn’t excepting to have a cell phone in Africa, I have gotten really spoiled and used to having it. I’ve been able to talk to my family & best friend at least once a week and all of us trainees are able to text back and forth which has been great. So, since it will be about a two hour bike ride into the BOMA, I will probably only go in once, maybe twice, a week – so if anyone wants to call I will let you know the day and we can set up a time. Internet is sadly only going to be available once a month at most – basically whenever I make it to Solwezi to stay at the PH.

After checking out my village I went to stay with Tess in her village and got to go with her to meet with a disability group she is working with which was really interesting. We then biked (with my 20+llb bag) into Kasempa and met up with the Castles for lunch and a tour of the BOMA. I stayed the night a guesthouse and then caught the minibus early the next morning.

Since then, I have been staying at the provincial house and it’s been wonderful. It’s so nice to relax a bit and actually get to spend quality time with other volunteers. We have a few hours of language and culture lessons a day, but after that we are pretty much on our own. We have been enjoying the shwarma & FROZEN YOGURT that is available here and having a good time developing our cooking skills. Right now its just the KiKaonde & Lunda trainees and some of the volunteers we are replacing. It’s really strange & sad to hang out with the people we are replacing because they are such a fun group of girls and I really wish they were staying. Last night we were looking at pictures of them at orientation and it is hard to believe they were ever in our position. This week a bunch of the NW volunteers should be coming in for their COS party and to welcome us newbies.

I realize I have been writing entirely too many details and have probably bored you all, but I am just so excited to have time to write.

I’m going to try and come back this week and upload some photos but I don’t know how successful I will be.

Until next time. . .

I have no time as always -- 12 minutes and 47 secs to be exact -- & the internet is so slow, but I just wanted to give a quick update.

The big news is that we just got our site placements this past Thursday and tomorrow morning we are headed out on a 2 week site visit. I am going to be living in Kasempa (google a map of Zambia) The site was actually moved at the last minute so, lucky me, I don't have a house yet and won't have one until the raining season ends and they can fire some mud bricks for me. This will happen anytime from now . . . which could be a long time. On the plus side, I will get to design my "very own Barbie Dream Hut" as my PCVL has said. Tonight, we are all celebrating with a little dance party/ sleepover at the training center - we are all very excited to be getting out of the routine of training and seeing what life has in store for us in the next 2 yrs.

If I'm lucky, I will have internet access as the Provincial house but I'm not counting on it. Miss you all & miss all the little luxeries of America -- especially high speed internet & hot showers!

Mutende Mwane! Baji Byepi? Ndekelaiko Mambo kechi kunemba ne bingi.

(Greetings, How are you all? I'm sorry for not writing more.)

.... or at least that was my attempt to say something in Kikaonde. I am still learning.

I'm sorry its been so long since I have written, but I have no internet access unless I can come into Lusaka (which is a very rare but wonderful event). The last few weeks have been very eventful, exciting, & stressful. It feels as though I have been here for months -- its hard to believe it has just been a little over 3 weeks. I will do my best to describe what my new life in Zambia is like, but I feel as though, in many ways, it is indescribable. & I will never be able to truly convey what it is like and all that I am feeling.

So when I last wrote I was about to leave for my 1st site visit. Peace Corps broke all the trainees into groups & sent us to stay with "real" volunteers around the county. Being crammed in with 9 people, food for a week, tents, sleeping bags, and backpacks for 5 hours over bumpy dirt roads quickly ended my love of the land cruiser. Alan, Hannah, & I went to visit Matt, Dan, & Michelle who are RED volunteers in Central Province. When we first got there, "I was a bit wide eyed" as Alan likes to say. Actually seeing a mud hut & stepping inside a pit latrine made my dream for the last year a reality, and for the 1st time since my arrival, I began to doubt my ability to survive here. With that said, I did well, and by the end of the week I felt a lot better about everything. Our PCVs were very entertaining & really gave us a good idea of what our daily life would be like & a better understanding of the projects we would be working on. There was a whole LOT of free downtime. We spent the 1st few hours sitting inside the insaka just talking & filling them in on the latest in America. Alan gave them a play by play of the entire footfall season, while Hannah & I provided some celebrity gossip. . . I can't imagine ever getting to that point, but they were loving it. They gave us some fun little presents & filled us in on the plans for the week -- this was pretty much limited to visiting a few school, meeting Ministry of Education officials, going on a scavenger hunt, & to end the week, a village party!

We started off at Michelle's place -- she lived in Serenje district & was the BOMA volunteer -- The RED program (rural education development) focuses on strengthening the Zonal Head School & creating resource centers, so volunteers work in a triad w/ 1 volunteer being placed just outside the BOMA so they can work with the MOE on a regular basis. The BOMA is a little town -- really little -- more like a big truck stop -- were the ministry officials have there offices. Here we trainees did a photo scavenger hunt ... this included such tasks as getting woman to let us carry her baby in a chitenge, getting a pic of a goat, multiple people on a bike, buying certain items in the market, trying special foods, finding out greetings in 6 different dialects, writing a speech praising our PCVs, and of course finding our way to the Provincial House (with no directions) where they would be meeting us. It was a little difficult seeing as how we didn't speak a word of Bemba or any other language for that matter, but we manged to complete it successfully & with a few minutes to spare. We took a tour of the area and greeted people in her village --- on our way back through a corn field, we got attacked by some red ants who managed to climb all the way up to my stomach biting me along the way!

The biggest adjustment was really just having so much time on our hands, although, what would normally be simple tasks took a very long time. We had to get water, start a fire, heat water for bathing, cut vegetables, cook meals, take bucket baths, wash dishes, do laundry - over and over again.

After 2 nights we went to Matt's place which was slightly more "Bush." Matt lived on a compound with a family he had gotten very close to so it was a totally different experience. He choose to eat all his meals with his family so a lot of his time was spent with them. Likewise, a lot of their time was devoted to him -- they did his laundry, cooked his meals, warmed his bath water -- oh, to be a man in Zambia! Matt took us to see a basic government school as well as a community school which used IRI (interactive radio instruction). The last day on site visit we had a little party. We girls got to help the Zambian women prepare the meal -- we were supposed to slaughter a goat, but since there were 2 funerals that day, no one was around to sell. . . which I have to say, I was rather happy about. Some other trainees killed chickens & one guy killed a cow :-( The night we danced under the stars to the same 5 Zambian hits over and over

--- Mama Let's Go! On the whole, it was a great week in which we played a lot of cards, ate a lot of mangos, and asked a lot of "this or that" questions :-)

When we got back we had about 1/2 hour to repack our bags, which we first had to find in a giant pile. It was very chaotic. We had a crash course in our languages -- and by crash I mean about 15 minutes to learn "hello" "my name is" and "thank you." We anxiously said goodbye to our new friends and were taken away to our various new villages to meet our home-stay families. Luckily, since Northwestern is so far away & there are not too many Kaonde families in the area, they placed me and the other 2 girls learning the language in a sort of extended family compound, so they are just about a 1-2 minute walk up the dirt path.

That first night was just insane! We were all a little shell shocked having just been dropped off by PC with a good luck, we'll pick you up by the roadside in the morning. My BaMaama & BaTaata met me at the truck (along with a bunch of kids) & right away my BaMaama heaved my 50 llb bag on her head and escorted me to their compound. They put me in my own little mud hut, next to their own! It is very "cozy" -- it is probably about 9X9 and just has a mattress on the floor with a mosquito net hung over it, a rickety little table and 2 stools. I have to say, I LOVE my mosquito net. It makes me feel very safe & secure from any bad animals that want to visit & is almost like sleeping under one of those princess beds I wanted as a kid. . . just different.

I didn't know what to do that 1st day so I desperately tore through my bad to find my language survival kit & my photos from home. Within minutes, I had a crowd around me ... It was very awkward at first but I survived . . . we did a lot of pointing at things & saying what they were in English & Kikaonde & then laughing. Me out of nervousness & them, because I am just about the strangest, most fascinating person they had met. I have to confess, I was a little scared just thinking about spending the night by myself in my little dark room so me & the two other girls I live by had a little sleepover. It was a bit uncomfortable & squished but it helped us ease into it. . . I have slept all by myself the rest of the time & am doing much better than I expected. One night I awoke to something running across me which was very disturbing but other than that I am so tired I go right to sleep.

Ok, I don't have much time left, so I will just give you an example of a typical day.

4/4:30: Roosters start crowing right outside my door

5:15/5:30: (when motivated): I go for a jog with Heather & Stacy -- 1st we walk the dirt paths until we get to the tarmac (paved road). Everyone stared & greets us in some language we don't understand. Occasionally we get some fans or people who will join us. People can't get enough of us munzungos (white people/ foreigners) & we attract a lot of unwanted attention. . . especially when we do such crazy activities as running with no where to go.

6:30: My mom heats my water & I go into the bathing shelter to take my bucket bath. I'm still working on developing the best technique but I'm getting more efficient each day. The 1st day was a little rough as I saw tiny worms on the ground, which I am convinced are the kind tat burrow themselves into your body, but I haven't seen them since. It still smells a bit like urine & I am always cautious of what bugs are around, but I am beginning to enjoy them. I also need to take advantage of having my maama heat my water for me! I love the fresh morning air & listening to the women being morning chored like drawling water from the boar hole and sweeping the ground as they gossip with each other. As I stand there I can just see the tips of our neighbors huts which looks so picturesque as the sun creeps up behind them.

7:00: I get dressed and attempt to make myself look decent in the dark with my tiny compact mirror. I take my malaria medication & eat some breakfast. I used to go sit with my mom but now she bring it into my room which i like better since I can muti-task (eating & getting ready for class)

7:50 most days: I walk up the path, greet Heather & Stacy's families, & walk with the girls about 5 minutes to our language teacher's home-stay.

8-12:15: We have Kikaonde lessons under a mango tree outside Ba Golden's house. We laugh & get off track a whole lot, but considering we have only had 5/6 sessions, I think we are doing great. We love Ba Golden --- he is just the nicest kindest person --- we really want to take him home with us to America to show him around so he will understand what we are talking about when we try to explain things to him. We are always talking about the diversity in America -- the food, the landscape, the people, and he is always so intrigued.

12:15- 13:30: We break for lunch -- walk home, mentally exhausted, and greet our families. Greeting is a HUGE part of the culture. Every time I see people I have to bow down a bit and clap & then give some fun little hand shake-- I still feel silly & don't always do it, but its really important that you do -- especially in Northwestern Province. I repack my bag for afternoon sessions, join my BaMaama for lunch, and try to breath.

13:30: Walk with H & S to a run down school house/mud hut which has a huge hole in the ceiling and lizards crawling around and dropping from the walls.

14-17: Attend tech training for RED -- learn hundreds of acronyms relating to the MOE & PC, talk about sustainable development, how to improve rural education . . . and lots more i will save for another time. Occasionally we go on field trips to see first hand how the schools are run & to practice monitoring & evaluating LTM and other programs. On Friday we actually had to teach a lesson on HIV/AIDs -- me & three others in front of about 50 9th grade students after only having a half day of training in the area ourselves. It went surprisingly well given our lack of preparation & was really good to start facilitating those types of discussions.

*7:20-17 Thursdays: We wait any given amount of time for the PC bus to show up, and then we pile in, 5 to a row, to be shuttled to the training center for cross cultural and medical sessions.

*7:20-12:30 Saturdays: Same routine but we spend the day learning about HIV/AIDS -- Thursdays & Saturdays are my favorite since we get to hang out with everyone including the CAPH people.

17-19: I usually try to escape to Chongwe BOMA to meet with some friends for a soda or beer after the very long & draining day of trainings. Its sort of pointless since it takes about 1/2 hour both ways but that hour in between to relax and speak in English w/ friends is fabulous and it worth it just to maintain my sanity.

19- 22/23: I arrive home at dusk -- greet my family -- at this point my BaMaama usually comes running out to me & hugs me saying something like, "Oh, you miss you mommy, your mommy missed you" Its pretty funny & I feel like I am a five year old -- but they are so nice, I love it. At this point I either lock myself in my hut unable to deal or I spend some time outside trying to study -- however, it is almost counterproductive since my BaTaata wants to help me but insists of reading my notebook -- syllable by syllable, incredibly slow-- both the KiKaonde & ENGLISH -- he doesn't seem to get it that I can read the English part perfectly fine on my own. Oh, gosh, you have to be there.

I eat dinner inside the kanzanza with just my mother & then sometimes the others will come in and we will attempt to speak. We drink tea and then I head into my room, attempt to study, but usually just end up falling asleep.

Ahh, I have so much more to write but I think I want to go see a movie with some friends and get something which resembles american food. . . so perhaps I will come back in if I have more time later. I will try to get pictures up sometime soon but the internet is very slow, so no promises. Thanks so much to those of you who have been writing! You have no idea how much they mean to me. I miss you all & hope I have more free time soon so I can actually begin to write back.

Hi everyone!

I don’t have much time, but I just wanted to say hi and let you all know I arrived in Lusaka safely. So far, I’m having a fabulous time & I am loving Zambia. The country is absolutely beautiful & the people live up to their reputation of being very friendly.

Staging was painless and some might even say a little fun. Our trainee class is all very laid back & nice. We all are getting along great and I’ve definitely met some very cool people I am sure I will be staying in touch with throughout service.

The last couple of nights we’ve been staying at this government training center/ hostel. The first night I think I sleep a total of 2 hours. I woke up after about a 45 minute nap & couldn’t get back to sleep. There was really loud music from a near by “bar” & the sounds of bugs, dogs, and god knows what else, will take some getting used to. We had our first taste of nshima, which will now be a staple at every meal. It was alright, but food from America will definitely be appreciated :-)

Sorry, there is just too much to tell and no time to get it out. We have been super busy between training & hanging out with everyone. I have yet to write a single letter or have any journaling time. Our trainers/ PCVLs (peace corps volunteer leaders) are all really cool & we’ve all enjoyed getting to know them and talking to them about their experiences. They all LOVE it here & we are all just wondering when we will reach the point they are at. They are all so. . . Zambian? I don’t know how to describe it.

One of my favorite experiences so far has just been driving around in the land cruisers. We all pile in & speed down the red dirt roads -- wind blowing, music blaring, and the beautiful green hills & blue sky all around us. Yesterday was a very long & tiring day. We went to the Peace Corps headquarters to fill out a bunch of forms, get more immunizations, go over our giant medical kits, get fitted for bikes, and go to several information sessions. The biggest news is that we had to pick our language group. I was all prepared to pick Bemba since that is the most used language in the country but there were too many people since only a limited number of people can learn each language. SO, trying to be the always “flexible” & “adventurous” ideal PCV I said I would be willing to learn Kaonde which is only spoken in the North Western province – it was a very impulsive decision & I’m not sure how I feel about it but all the PCVLs say I will love it. It is the most rural of all provinces – located on the border of the Congo & Angola!!!! There will only be three other people in my lanuage group which is sad but apparently there are a bunch of volunteers out there.

Last night we all followed the sound of some music through some grass & corn fields until we came to this silo which is actually a little bar. We tried some shake shake which is a homemade beer & talked with the locals. It was great.

Anyways, I will write when I can. We are all off to visit some sites for the week. We will be camping & are only allowed to bring a tiny bag! I’m headed to Central Provence so it will be good to see another area of the country.

Oh, I got a cell phone. They say the best bet is to go to callingcardplus.com & it is free for you to call me. Don’t know how often I will have reception or power but I would love to hear from people. The number is (if dialed from the U.S) 011 26 0990 68423.

Miss you all but right now I am very much loving Zambia!

So, it’s nearly 3 am, and the way things are going I don’t think I will be going to bed tonight . . . too much left to do & even if I do finish I doubt I could fall asleep with my nerves jumping as they are. I think I have finally finished packing, or at least my bags are now over the weight limit, so I have to stop.

My trip into NYC was great – I was only there for about 8 hours but I got to see my wonderful friends, so it was well worth it! I am going to miss everyone so much!

On the way home I got to reading a guide book on Zambia. I probably should have done this sooner because I came across some rather disturbing information. Here I was spending all my time worrying about malaria & snakes, when apparently I overlooked quite a bit . . .

Rabies: This disease is, “always fatal if contracted.” The incubation period depends on how far away the bite was to the brain – taking anywhere from a week to several months. Apparently rabies is “one of the worst ways to go” and the final stages consist of spasms, personality change, and fear of water? All I can think of is “Old Yeller” being shot.

Hepatitis: involves fever, weakness, jaundice of the eyes & skin, & abdominal pains caused by the inflammation of the liver. . .

E-shyh & I got some shots for this one before our trip to South Africa, but we are afraid we never got the follow up. Esh, please go to the doctor when you get your health insurance back.

Bilharzia: my personal favorite: “is an insidious disease, contracted by coming into contact with infected water. It is caused by an infestation of parasitic worms which damage the bladder and/or intestine . . . a common indication of an infection is a localized itchy rash – where the parasites have burrowed (key word here) through the skin . . . The life cycle of the parasites starts when they are urinated into a body of water. Here they infect particular species of water-snails. They grow, multiply, and finally become free-swimming. Then they leave the snails to look for a human, or primate, host. After burrowing through the skin of someone coming into contact with the water, they migrate to the person’s bladder or intestine where they remain – producing a large number of eggs which are passed every day in the urine, so continuing the cycle.”

As if the crocodiles & hippos weren’t enough to deter you from the water – I am never going swimming!

Trypanosomiasis: otherwise know as the “sleeping sickness,” is usually confined to cattle, but is occasionally caught by people when they are bit by the tsetse fly – which is a very common insect of Zambia. These creatures have specially designed mouths for sucking blood. If a bite turns into a nasty boil, swelling for more than five days, you should seek immediate medical attention as to avoid permanent damage to the nervous system.

Another great section of this book discusses what to do in face-to-face encounters with animals because, “it is not unlikely that you will come across some of Africa’s larger animals at close quarters.” For some reason, I was under the impression that many of these animals were in reserves . . . with gates around them.

In the event that you run into a buffalo or black rhino, they suggest you quick climb a tree or, if the animal is about to attack, remain calm and dodge their charge at the last possible moment. I really doubt that, in such a situation, I would be capable of staying calm or averting a wild beast by simply “side-stepping”at the last moment -- I really don’t think they will be satisfied after one try. . . and I’m not going to just stand there and hope they miss!

Luckily, elephants give a lot of warning signs when they are mad. If this unfortunate meeting occurs, they say don’t run & back away slowly. However, if you are the object of an elephants “full charge,” run like hell!

Lions: before I even write their suggestion, let me just say that if I do happen to come across a lion unexpectedly, I will most likely have a heart attack & die on the spot. Apparently, you are never supposed to run from a big cat – you first try to back away slowly & confidently – if that doesn’t work, you are supposed to pretend that you are not afraid by making, “loud, deep, confident noises” and banging things to scare them away. Unlikely.

Leopards & Monkeys: never look them in the eye or they go crazy on you.

Hippos: Most problems occur in the water when canoes find themselves in a hippo pod or in a hippos path to the water… hippos are believed to be the most dangerous animals in Africa. They have no problem overturning canoes – “biting them and their occupants.” The best defense is avoidance.

Crocodiles: usually are not a problem unless you are in the water (perhaps after being overturned by a hippo) If you do find yourself in the mouth of a croc – being dragged underwater and torn apart – your best bet is to stab the crocodile in the eye with something sharp; if that doesn’t do the trick and you are still alive, you can lift its tongue and attempt to drown it.

as for my real fear of snakes & malaria, they don’t sound as bad anymore.

Most snakes will leave when they feel vibrations – except for the puff adder which has gotten used to humans and simply puffs up as a warning (good thing it is only one of the most common & venomous snakes in Africa!) Then there is also the tree snakes which may surprise you every now and again & the spitting cobras which have great accuracy for your eyes. As for the malaria – well, according the RPCV I talked to, I will most likely have malaria at some point, but as long as I am taking the medicine, I shouldn’t get any symptoms – and if I do, they will be mild & I will be given medicine to take in that case. Now it’s the medicine which can cause depression & hallucinations which I have to worry about.

Sorry, this is not meant to scare my mom or grandma – don’t worry, I will be fine . . . but this is only me preparing for the worst . . . as I tend to do.

I’m just realizing that I am probably one of the least prepared people to be doing this. The last time I went “camping” was freshman year of college & we ended up going to Wendy’s because our fire went out & we couldn’t cook our meal. Before that is was probably a fifth grade trip with the girl scouts & we stayed in a cabin. Of course there were many years of camping in the backyard, if that counts. And another thing I was reminded of on my train ride home was my disgust for public restrooms. If I can’t handle those, how am I going to deal with a hole in the ground that I will constantly be paranoid is sheltering a snake.

Alright, now that I’ve shared some of my anxieties & fears, I’m going to get back to work. I will try to be more positive next time. Obviously I wouldn’t be going if I didn’t think the rewards would outnumber the scary animals & diseases.

Oh, so many things going through my mind & yet it seems impossible to express them. This has been quite the long & arduous journey – and I haven’t even left the country yet. To give some background, for those who don’t know, I first applied for the Peace Corps back in October of ’05 and have since been busy trying to fight my way through the bureaucracy that is the PC. For all the hoops they make you jump through to serve, you would think you were getting paid a whole lot. This interim period I affectionately refer to as “limbo” was filled with many stories in itself – some good: traveling, spending time at home, visiting with old friends . . . and some bad: becoming addicted to the internet which involved hours of my life being wasted on the facebook, missing college & everyone there, & briefly serving as a nanny for the spawn of satan. But I’ll save those for another time & a safer venue.

SO, after nearly a year of waiting in anticipation, I received my invitation to serve in Zambia. I was a little disappointed when I first got the news, because I was sort of hoping to go somewhere like Tanzania or Madagascar . . . but I realize there was no foundation for my preference other than those were places I have heard of. I was also expecting to be a teacher, but, as it turns out, I will be working with the Ministry of Education and not in a school itself. Oh well, they say patience & adaptability are vital to your success as a volunteer & I figure this is good practice.

As of tonight, I am just about packed. I’m still working on uploading the I-pod with as much entertainment as possible & I need to fill in my address book & do a million other little things – but instead I am procrastinating by writing this. I finally realized the 80 llb limit was only for CHECKED baggage. So, yea, I am an idiot. But I am a happy idiot because now I can slip all sorts of weight in my purse and backpack. Even now with my wonderful discovery, it is still a very challenging task. I tend to be an over-packer – I could bring 80 llbs for 3 weeks in California and they want to limit me for 27 months in a third world country where I have no idea what will be available – its stressing me out just thinking about it! I feel like I should be put in a mental institution or something for all the mood swings I am having. One moment I am fine, the next I am panicking. Normal again, then super excited. Then the panic hits. Anxiety. Nausea. Overwhelmed with fear. Stressed & ready to cry. Then I hear a story or talk to someone & I am right back to being motivated & wanting to leave. It’s terrible. . . and I have to say thank you to all of you who have had to put up with me during this time. I talked with a returned volunteer last night who got me back to the excited stage. Actually, all the returned volunteers I have gotten in contact with have raved about their experience and have been wonderfully kind & helpful -- so that is promising! She is now a part-time recruiter for PC and says that Zambia is one of the best assignments you can get because it is one of the last remaining places they send volunteers that is still a traditional rural society. I am happy to experience PC in a way that is very similar to when it was first started – while the no electricity or running water & long treks into town will be difficult, it is much more exciting & unique. After all, how many people get to live in a mud hut. . . if I survive, I will have serious bragging rights. I should get back to work. I am heading off to NYC early tomorrow in order to see some friends from Pepperdine one last time before departure. I am super excited to see them & think it will be good to get my mind off things. . . I go into D.C. for orientation on Monday – I'm excited to meet my group but am praying we don’t have to play those “get to know you” games – I hate bonding. On Wednesday, we go to the clinic to get all our shots & then head to the airport. I’ll be in Zambia as of Friday.