Well, here we go. In less than 2 months, I’ll be officially pulled from the village. However, the time could be shorter, but no one is sure because the national elections have yet to be announced. Otherwise, things are good. I’m heading to the village tomorrow! This is going to be a difficult time as I tell my loved ones here good-bye. Goodbyes to my family here are getting harder and harder. It made me really sad when my sister, Heather and I left the village. I guess I’ve been thinking more and more about what happens when I leave. Each goodbye is closer and closer to the last goodbye. At least it will only be the last goodbye of my service for I am determined to keep in touch.However, I am VERY excited to come home though and see all my loved ones on the eastern side of the Atlantic. So how about some quick updates from 2011:Between my brother’s visit and my younger sister’s visit I had some interesting experiences. I think I mentioned in an earlier blog that I broke my foot at the end of January. I was put in a cast for 3 weeks, then had 2 weeks to strengthen the foot to the point of not needing a crutch for support, and then was sent back to the village.So right after breaking the foot, I was stuck in Lusaka for the first few weeks. That was good and bad. Bad because I couldn’t walk. Good because I got to “explore” and get to know Lusaka better. I think a lot of volunteers end up disliking Lusaka because it is a big dirty city that’s too expensive for our volunteer budget. I found it to be a very interesting side of Zambian culture. I made lots of wonderful friends, who were nice enough to get me out and keep me from going completely stir-crazy.So then the village was nice and slow as always. I succeeded in transporting 300+ fish to my best farmer's pond! We’ve got another new batch of volunteers in Lundazi…including a new neighbor for me! Her name is Colleen and she’s a Georgia peach like Cherie. So now I’m surrounded on both sides. J I’ve been a terrible neighbor though because I’ve been cashing in on my last vacation days and haven’t been around lately. And with those vacation days I went to Zanzibar…twice.The first time was over the Easter holidays. I went with my good friends Cherie and Julie. It was a riot of a good time. Sorry for not detailing it in this blog post, but I'm kinda tired.The second time I went with my sister Heather when she visited. I should begin the story with her arrival in Lusaka. I had a guy stand at the entrance through which the passengers first walk into as they enter the terminal and hold a sign that read “Rabid Bird” (her nickname…well, it’s actually Birdy, but you know…). My good friend Steve, had helped me pick her from the airport and we immediately headed down to the lower Zambezi river, a ways past Victoria Falls and Lake Kariba. We hung out a bit on the river, checked out the ginormous dam at Lake Kariba, saw some incredible baobab trees, and then headed back to Lusaka for some fun at a local Afrikaaner bar.Next, we visited my village and had some enjoyable memories there, including playing on cotton bales, rambling around the bush, and briefly (surprisingly) meeting my chief. Here's Bird with one of my moms and some village kids.Then, we went back to Lusaka, along with my fellow volunteer and Lundazite, Dan. We played with some juvenile lions. One of them playfully jumped on Bird’s back and was quite powerful about it, but Bird stood her ground.Finally, we were on our way to Tanzania. All along in Zambia, we had been fortunate in having fast, reliable, and easy rides all around. So of course on our way to the catch the train that would take us out of Zambia, our car broke down 20 km from the train station! What?! Luckily we hitched a ride and made it with a bit of time to spare. Once at the train station we met up with my friend Nick and embarked on a very colorful journey through the Zambian countryside, crossing the border to Tanzania, witnessing some breathtaking mountainous expanses, and ending up in Dar Es Salaam. The train ride was rickety and got pretty darn cold at night, but was a fun way to travel nonetheless.So after the train we took a ferry to Zanzibar! We stayed in some bungalows on the eastern side of the island. The sand there is unlike any sand I’ve ever seen or felt. The consistency is of flour and it becomes blinding white in the midday sun. We were located on the edge of a village right beside a fish market. So everyday we got to watch the fishermen sail out in their dhow boats and then come in with the tide, tie up, and sell their fish right on the beach. The seafood we ate there was absolutely incredible. Everything just exploded with flavor!One day, Nick and I went SCUBA diving and Bird went snorkeling. It was a lot of fun and there were lots of colorful fish. I personally think the Caribbean has greater diversity in coral, invertebrate, and plant life. However, I saw greater diversity and size in the fish species at Zanzibar. I also got to see a dolphin! The three of us went snorkeling together another day and were taken to some random sand bars that only appear during low tide. I will never forget the pure white of the sand. It was as if the hourglass of time had broken and spilled its contents into warm turquoise and blue waters.It was sad to see my sister leave, but I’m so grateful she was able to come in the first place. Each of my siblings got to see different things, including myself at different stages of this crazy experience. Birdy, I appreciate your sacrifice, your humor, your patience and your resilience in handling rough situations here. You had it pretty easy in regards to travel though. J I think often of that night we stood together, small as the specks of sand oozing between our toes and looked up at the stars, equally as small, silently filling the darkness, filling our thoughts, pushing their energy, pulling ours. And we talked and laughed and pondered and chased tiny crabs that zipped into the salty waves and watched the fullness of the moon appear, watched as it consumed numerous stars in it’s path and revealed the cracks in the lapping waves over which we jumped, our minds filled with nothing of ourselves and ourselves filled with nothing but our hearts as our feet melted into the sand, that was melting into the water, melting into the stars.

Heh….so I wrote over half of this blog several months ago and I sincerely apologize for the delay in finishing and posting it. This is a brief (and quite inadequate, I realize) account of my adventures with my brother. Ironically, my sister, Heather, is here with me now. I’ll try not to wait so long to put up stories of what’s going on now…My brother, Tanner, arrived in Lusaka the week of Christmas. It was so exciting to see him walk out of the terminal! He came walking out with video camera device in hand, with which he took hours of beautiful footage while here. We stayed the next day in Lusaka and wandered around neighborhood streets catching up.We tried hitching to Chipata but ended up taking a bus after waiting for 2 hours at one place. Transport at the beginning of his trip was terribly frustrating. We took the bus up to Lundazi: had to wait 3 hours in the bus station and then the bus took 6 freakin hours! We arrived in Lundazi well after dark. I honestly have never been so upset at traveling here. If I had a car it would have taken 3 hours. I miss having my own personal mode of transportation.So we made it to the village on Christmas day, after stopping to help pull a car out of a ditch. The weather was sunny and hot with a breeze. It didn’t feel like Christmas at all. My village family killed a pig for the occasion and Tanner had brought gifts for the village. It was a happy fun day. We also got to witness some traditional dancers putting on a show.The next few days in the village were spent showing Tanner my day-to-day routine and a bit about my work. I introduced him to lots of my friends. We even tried to see the hippos that live near me. As we were walking up to the lake, an earth-shattering gun blast scared the stuffing out of me. It was the first gun I’d heard fired in a year and a half and we were out in the bush. I went into slight panic mode wondering who was shooting at what and why. It didn’t make sense until a ZAWA (Zambia Wildlife Authority) man in uniform walked out from some reeds by the water’s edge with an AK47. He was shooting at the hippos to scare them, because 2 days prior the mama hippo had killed a cow. She had been trying to attack a drunk man but a cow was in the way so she killed it instead (and this was about 3 weeks after the same hippo actually killed a man from the nearby village). So ZAWA’s answer to the cries for help from the people was to fire shots in the direction of the hippo in hopes of scaring it into not killing anymore. There are 3 hippos total in the lake and they virtually destroy villagers livelihood every year. These hippos aren't even native to the area. They only came from Malawi a few years ago after the people decided to construct a lake there to help irrigate crops and now the people are even worse off. All I’m saying is that 2 of those hippos would feed my entire chiefdom. J Speaking of chiefdoms, I took my brother to meet the chief. As for an update on him…I'll follow the old adage of "saying nothing at all." To which Peace Corps adds: especially on the internet. So if you’re super interested in that aspect of the culture, find me when I get back, and I’d love to enlighten you on my experiences. I will say that the chief did give us a chicken. That was nice.Here's Tanner helping my family weed in their maize field:After the village we headed down to Livingstone to explore Vic Falls. This time of year was great because the water level was down and we could walk across the top of the falls. We walked over the rocks to a small natural pool called Angels Armchair, where we could swim up to the very edge of the falls and look over! It was astonishing! We celebrated new years there and had a rowdy time. Then, we also went on a walking safari where we saw giraffes, wildebeest, zebra, etc. But the best was the white rhino! I’ve now seen the “Big Five” (elephant, leopard, lion, water buffalo, and rhino). I’m not even sure how to describe the majestically powerful nature of the machines we call rhinos. It was one of the most intense experiences I’ve had with wildlife here. We got within 8 meters (24 feet for y’all in Amerca)! Tanner, thank you for all the wonderful memories and amazing adventures and the great sacrifice it took to come visit and for putting up with me when I gibber-gabbered and complained about all the frustrating things here. You helped lift my spirit and see the beauty that I had forgotten through the clouds of frustration. I love you so much! And I’m sorry I made you miss your flight…apparently the airport is the one place in Zambia that actually runs on time…most of the time. J

Hope everyone had nice holidays: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, MLK and groundhog day and all the others since I last wrote. I trust they came and went as everyday comes and goes, in 24 hours. The passage of time since my last blog post was deliberate. Actually, it was only supposed to be for one month. A conversation with my mom prompted me to take a month off and away from correspondence. The provincial house for me had changed from sanctuary to a place of worry and stress that I communicate as much as possible in the short time I was allowed there. The fast/free internet had become a curse as much as blessing. And after all, in the long run, what does it really matter? So, I decided to not write a blog for a month and limit correspondence. Well, it was such a relief that I extended it until now and might do it again. There’s so much that filled the days of these last 3 months. I’ll only highlight them here. In October (after last blog), I was counted in Zambia’s census! And I got to see the World Series! I had to stay up until midnight or 1 for it to start. No big deal unless you’re used to going to bed around 8. It made me feel weird to see the ballpark at Arlington and Texas skies. There was a twinge of homesickness at seeing something familiar, but also something different that I can’t quite describe that made me fearful of the distance I’ve removed myself from some aspects of that culture. And at the same time it made me really excited to know that someday I’ll be able to go to a baseball game again with my family! Sometime in November I went to Lake Malawi with 3 amazing ladies (Cherie, Julie, and Allison). We had a blast together and the lake was calm and relaxing. I swam everyday, learned how to play a local game called “Bao,” and got to see the “smoke clouds” of mating termites that swarm in the sky over the lake once a year (this phenomenon is featured on the Freshwater episode of Planet Earth). Later that month, I traveled to Lusaka to get my retainer returned to its proper place. The dentist was very gentle and after I told her from where my doctor thought the retainer had fallen, she chuckled throughout. In December, Gooey sana had 2 babies! Neither are deformed and I counted to make sure they had the normal number of toes for kitties. A bishop from Zambia was just appointed to Cardinal within the Catholic Church. His name is Cardinal Mazombwe. I think they said he was the first from sub-Saharan Africa. He is from Eastern Province so he traveled around the area saying mass. I got to attend his mass in Lundazi and it was quite beautiful. The people were so excited and gave him many gifts including: 7 goats, 15 chickens, bags and bags of mealie meal (cornmeal) and sugar. Just before Christmas, my brother, Tanner came for a visit! His visit was so special that I am going to write a separate blog post just for it. So after he left in January, I stuck around in Lusaka and helped conduct the first week of In-Service Training for the group that is one year behind mine. It was fun and that group has some interesting characters. I really enjoyed seeing other trainers from my group who also came down to help. On a subsequent trip to Lusaka, I tripped and fractured a bone in my right foot. So I’m currently laid up in Lusaka for a week or so. I’ll hopefully move to the Chipata house later this week, but can’t go to the village until my foot is healed. And Cherie was here with Malaria so it was nice to have someone else around to talk to while confined to the couch. But she has returned to our home district. I have now crossed into “The Year I Come Home.” My last official day as a Peace Corps Volunteer is September 24. Less than 8 months. The mixed emotions about this can be overwhelming sometimes. The more I love this place, the more I hate it. The more I want to go home, the more I want to stay here. The more memories, good or bad, you collect in a place, the more you feel tied to and connected to it somehow. But then, can’t that sometimes just be sentimentality? Which has its purpose, but shouldn’t be allowed to dictate your decisions. I know I said in a previous post that it is to the prairie I belong, and I’m not denying the deep connection I have to straight horizons, constant breezes, and vast open spaces, but I realize now that though I can make a home, I do not belong to a place any more than it belongs to me. I’m not downplaying the unique qualities or the importance of place, for there is an inextricable link between who you are as a person and the place where you are, I’m just saying that I will not be bound because of a place, be it here or there. I can love and work and play and be myself in any place so long as it is truth I am following.

After I wrote that last blog, I stayed in the village for 6 weeks! All the chickens in my village died from a disease. The guineas lived though...and decided to roost on my roof and right behind my house. I haven't needed an alarm clock in weeks! I baked Idah a birthday cake! I also taught her how to bake one herself. My family enjoyed it very much. I think my father gets to move back home to the village anytime this month. His contract work with Cargill will end soon and then the whole family will be together again!Fish farming work has increased to a satisfactory level. During those weeks, I conducted site surveys, pond staking, and pond construction. I also experienced my first pond harvest! It was fun and frustrating. People were in good spirits but trying to get assistance from the Department of Fisheries was like pulling teeth. They finally came through 2 hours late with a net that we no longer needed. Oh well. The pond got harvested and my farmers went home with delicious fish to fill their babies’ bellies. Success! At the beginning of September, Peace Corps sent 3 newbies (new volunteers in training) to my village for a site visit. 9 total came to Lundazi for visits. 3 to my village, 3 to Cherie’s village, and 3 to Ryan’s (my ex-nearest neighbor) village. The 3 to Ryan’s were/are the 3 newest editions to the Lundazi family!!! My 3 visitors, Clara, Chuck, and Jim stayed at my village for about 4 days. I took them around to visit fish farmers and they helped stake a pond for my wonderful friend, Thole. We had a pretty fun time around the village and I think my villagers got a kick outta them as well. They were especially impressed by the brightly colored kanyumbas (small houses…which really were their tents) that they brought with them. On our last day, I arranged to hire Thole’s oxcart to take us the 8 km to Ryan’s village. The oxcart ride was hilarious! It took us over 2 hours. We looked ridiculous and everyone that passed us laughed. Once at Ryan’s (now Mahdi has replaced him as my neighbor in that village), we met up with most of the Lundazi crew and the 9 newbies that were visiting volunteers in the area. We had a village party complete with dancing, a hair cutting, alcohol, and a bonfire/campfire! For the first time in Africa, I slept outside under the stars (no tent…only a blanket). It wasn’t scary at all, but I don’t think I’d do it during rainy season with all the freaky bugs. Soon after, Idah and I went on an adventure to find Spider. I’m gonna skip the details of the “finding” part of the adventure because they are overshadowed by the actual adventure that is the person. Spider Lusale is a man of my parent’s age who is filled with more spirit than I’ve seen in most. As Idah and I passed one end of his village, where most of the people were dulling their consciousness with village brew, Spider was hard at work, bent over his 80+ year-old hand-crank lathe. Of course, another man was cranking/spinning the lathe. I soon was to find out that the lathe had first belonged to the father of Spider. His father is also the one who taught him (beginning in 1974) to create such beautiful carvings. He almost immediately became one of my most favorite people I’ve ever met. He was welcoming, enthusiastic, and engaging. His presence was comforting and his personality encouraging. He was honest about his struggles yet not once did he try to cheat me on price; which, by the way, fell way short of truly reflecting the value of his work and creative ability. $5 for a pair of candlesticks. $5 for a pair of goblet/chalices. I even was able to order a complete chess set for $12. The process and machinery is all hand and manpower. The way he described it was a tree in between two ball bearings. A roughly whittled piece of tree is stuck on the outer end and the inner tree is spun with a rope that is looped around several times. Spider would then use different shapes and sizes of wedges to cut into the tree. When the carving was finished, the pieces would be sanded and varnished. When I inquired about the lack of varnish inside the sugar bowls, Spider warned me to never put water inside because “it will go into the tree and push out.” I enjoyed how even when he was referring to the finished pieces he would still call them trees…never wood. It was a beautiful way to express his relationship with his art. He never forgot its living form, its true nature. I passed my one-year anniversary of moving to my village on October 1. Then, 2 days after that I jumped on a Peace Corps cruiser and went to Lusaka with all the other fantastic people from my intake. It was time for our Mid-term conference. The “conference” consisted of basically medical and dental formalities mixed in with sessions where we discussed what’s happening at our sites, how we feel about our service, what challenges and successes have we experienced, etc. I think I’ve sprinkled my other blogs with answers to these questions and I don’t feel like talking about it right now. So I’ll leave it at that. I will say that it was really nice to see everyone from my intake again. January was the last time we were all together in one place. Change and growth are fascinating phenomena to observe. Well, after it was all over I hitched back to Chipata. Once there, I piddled around a few days and caught up with some Chipata friends. The day I was going to head up to Lundazi, I was all packed up, about to throw my bag over my shoulder and walk out the door, when I decided to eat an apple. And it was a delicious apple. When I was finished I stood in the doorway to the living room and told some people good-bye as I picked at the pieces of apple that were stuck in the bottom permanent retainer on my teeth. All of a sudden the retainer popped off! I thought, “Well, crap” and got my phone to call medical in Lusaka. It happened to be Columbus Day and the office was closed, so my only choice was to call the emergency medical number, which goes to either one of the nurses or the doctor. I got the doctor: our new doctor from the Congo. We exchanged pleasantries and then I got down to telling him the events that just happened. Now, the wide-world of orthodontics is not as wide-spread as one might imagine in sub-saharan Africa. So the doc and I had a funny conversation as we tried to sort out what had happened. First, we established that something had come off:

Me: my bottom permanent retainer popped off

Doc: so your IUD has come out? You should come in so we can put it back.

Me: what?! No, the bottom retainer on my teeth. It has come off.

Doc: what? So then, we cleared up what a retainer was:

Me: sometimes people have braces when they are younger and when the braces come off a piece of metal is permanently glued on the teeth to keep them straight. It’s called a retainer. It is a small piece of metal wire. This is what has come off

Doc: It has fallen out of your uterus?

Me: *smack forehead* So finally, I elaborated on the commonly accepted locale of said retainer:

Me: No! Mouth! My mouth! It came out of my mouth. The piece of metal was stuck to my teeth and it has come off.

Doc: Oooooooh. Hm, you have to come in for that tomorrow.

Me: Really? Tomorrow? To Lusaka?

Doc: Yes. We must put it back. So Tuesday morning, bright and early and still not really sure that doc knew exactly what had come out from exactly where, I boarded a bus for Lusaka. The weather has gotten extremely hot (October is the hottest month) and the ride down was less than comfortable. Needless to say, it was a wasted trip because 1) a retainer coming off is not an emergency and 2) dentists in Africa are quite similar to those in America in that it is very difficult to schedule an appointment on short notice. So I trekked that entire way to Lusaka, back to where I had just come from 3 days earlier, to schedule an appointment for next month. And it’s with a dentist. All she’ll probably be able to do is take the cement/glue stuff off my teeth. At least I timed the appointment so that I get a cruiser ride down. And Peace Corps will pay for it. I return to the village tomorrow. I plan to stay there for 5 weeks. So you might hear from me around Thanksgiving time…maybe. Sleep well and wake even better. Remember to balance and forget to worry.Oh, and my family and some others in the village always tell me when I leave to greet those at home and those I meet. So I greet you on behalf of my loved ones here.

I started writing this last month, but just wasn’t able to post it. I’ve got 2 big issues to talk about and then maybe some little ones to throw in. First, my adventure hitting the Zambian hotspots. Second, an examination of one year. So last month (July in case you have forgotten as I tend to do from time to time), I got to dabble in the tourist life. Now, unless your only mode of cross-country transportation is by plane and you stay in the moderately pricey accommodations and you avoid villages, you will be forced to experience what Zambia is proud to offer as “The Real Africa”. It does not leave you with that blissfully-ignorant I’m-just-here-to-pamper-myself taste in your mouth. In fact, you usually end up with a mouthful of dust, a mindful of frustration, and a heartful of severe contrasts. My trip with Oliver was brilliantly successful, especially in how things just always happened to work out. Mostly this came down to transportation situations; barely making it to the Lusaka bus station to catch our lift to Livingstone, a successful plane landing in terrifying turbulence, catching a hitch from a generous Lutheran who ended up driving out of his way to deliver us at the doorstep of our safari camp. I must thank Oli for his humor and good nature when situations were potentially frustrating. Our ride from Lundazi to Chipata was in the back of a canter, sitting on bags of maize, the sun scorching our skin, battling the awful road while following a huge truck carrying loads of cotton kicking up exorbitant amounts of dust. Allow me to start at the beginning of the adventure. I picked up Oli in Lusaka and we headed down to Victoria Falls or Mosi-oa-Tunya (the smoke that thunders). The falls were beautiful. There was a lot of mist being thrown up which partially obscured the view, but we got to walk across a bridge through the thick of it over to a plateau that seemed to receive perpetual rain. We went on a booze cruise one evening and met a croc named Duncan. Later, with the help of my good friend whiskey, I was able to charm our taxi driver into charging us ½ the fare by utilizing my previously untapped ability to conjure up a conversation in Nyanja (a Zambian language in which I have received zero training). We flew from Lusaka to Chipata to save time. It was an interesting flight. There were seats for 6 passengers only. I had flown on a similar sized plane a few times before, but Oli had not. I was quite comfortable during take-off and Oli was not. By the time we were going in for a landing Oli was excited and I was not. I was freaked out by the turbulence and thought we were going to land short of the tiny tarmac run-way. But here I am writing to you. The village was really fun. I had been given a small chicken when Marcey visited and by this time he was good and fat so we decided to eat him. However, mama was out in the fields and Idah didn’t know/want to kill the chicken sooo I had to step up to the plate (or chopping block…which was actually just the dirt ground under a tree). So I stepped on his wings, grabbed his head and proceeded to saw at his throat (knives are very dull here). Lots of blood came out and he went limp and that was that. I stepped off him, grabbed his legs and was carrying him over to Idah when he went crazy, flapping his wings and I dropped him. There were a lot of feathers, dust, gurgling noises and at one point he flopped his half sawed-off neck over my foot. Somehow I snapped out of my shock, pinned him again and finished the job. I must say he was delicious later that night. After a relaxing Beatles and Burritos time back in Chipata we traversed our way to the valley for a chance to view the famous creatures of Africa in South Luangwa National Park. As I’ve experienced a peek into the local side of culture, heritage, history, development, and environmental issues, I failed to be the ideal tourist here thanks to the bittersweet complexities of human need and environmental strain with a little politics thrown in (is anything without?). Regardless of how I defined myself, the beasts were magnificent, the birds beautiful, the company delightful, and the experience sublime. My favorite animal (and the one I wanted most to see) was the giraffe. During the day we also saw: lions, elephants, hippos (in and out of the water), crocs (not the footwear), zebras, puku, impala, water buffalo, water buck, birds and birds, etc. The game drive at night was interesting. We drank beers by the river as the sun sank beneath the smoky horizon. Then, they popped on the spotlight and we took off down dirt paths. It almost felt like I was back on the ranch driving around late at night to catch a glimpse of the shining eyes of raccoons, possums, owls, or coyotes. Only here we saw hyenas, lions, a civet, grazing hippos, and a leopard stalking impala. Once the leopard was spotted, 4 other vehicles drove up with their spotlights and the leopard lost its dinner. This I didn’t like so much. However, I guess the night drives are justified by the park closing at 8:00pm so that only 2 hours of the animals’ night are interrupted. Pristine environment competing against the desires of the curious human…in addition to the country’s need for the almighty dollar. At times I felt like we weren’t justified in our intrusion of the wild animals’ habitat. However, without the conservation money the tourism brings in, which funds the national park, a vast majority of the creatures would have been hunted down by now (so how “pristine” would have the ecosystem had actually been even without tourists?). But then this also conflicts with the health of the local people who have depended on these bush animals meat for centuries. Oh the complexities of the earth and its inhabitants. No less are the complexities within the mind. My happy feelings towards this place/lifestyle suffered a minor blow when coming back from Germany. Hitting my one-year mark has taken me down another peg or two. Sorry if this next bit is a downer, I just want to be honest. How else can I expect understanding when I return to you? And its not that I'm unhappy either. Its just that the new car smell has worn off. I still enjoy the vehicle and the places it takes me and the things it shows me and the perpetual bend ahead that sustains the mystery. When reflecting on the last year, I’ve come to realize the greatest sacrifice was/is the relationships I had with every person I knew before stepping onto that plane in DFW. With the free and decent internet now available at the provincial house, I have been able to begin reconnecting with some of you beautiful people. In fact, one of my dear friends asked me the other day if it helps or hurts being able to talk to and know what people are doing back home. I think it’s a mixture of both. It makes those relationships seem to have been somewhat maintained, but it also brings into better focus the massive distance between us. And not just the physical distance. I can find out about events in a persons life, but truly knowing a person requires more than just facts. People change: attitudes, beliefs, habits, preferences. I know I've changed just as everyone else has. Though, I don’t think I will realize the extent of it until I’m plopped back down into Texas (that faraway magical land of donuts and Dr. Pepper), back into the culture from which my own attitudes, beliefs, habits, and preferences were first developed. I’m already apprehensive about that transition and I’ve still got a year to go. When I look at the one year I have remaining in Zambia it feels like so long. But when I look at the year I’ve just lived it feels like it happened so fast. I miss home and I long to be there, but I know once I am I will miss this place and certain things about this life. So I think it would be best to continue to immerse myself in the experiences and the life to be lived here while I’m here. Aware of it or not, with every decision in life there is an inevitable sacrifice. Now, it’s story time: On my way back to the village last month, I attended a 3 year-olds birthday party. Nobody in my village celebrates birthdays. However, I was in Chipata. My guess is they have more access to western culture and therefore regard birthday celebrations as a “sign-of-development.” The Zambian spin on certain customs familiar to you and me are pretty funny. Blue and pink toilet paper was used as crepe paper. My favorite Zambianized custom was the contents of the goodie-bags. In our culture, children find candy and cheap plastic toys. In Zambian culture one finds a small package of biscuits, 2 potatoes and a piece of chicken. Now, how bout a story about Gooey Sana? Two weeks ago I was sittin on my couch, holdin her on my lap all content and peaceful when my father ran in and asked if I would bring her outside quickly. I wondered what the hell was going on that a grown man would need a little cat. When I got outside with her they showed me a deep plastic bucket with a cover on it and said there was a mouse inside and they wanted me to throw Gooey in to catch it. Really? So of course I agreed. But Gooey was getting scared of being confined in my arms with all the people around and she started to squirm, even scratching my arm a little. No matter. They opened the lid and I threw her in on top of the mouse which turned out to be quite large. Everyone jumped back as Gooey hit the bottom. She shot outta there like a cannon, knocking the bucket over in my direction! The mouse darted at me and I freaked out! I backpedaled a few steps and then turned to run. But before my eyes turned I saw one of my little brothers smash the mouse with a stick. Then a dog picked it up and ran off. And I’ll leave you with a funny bedtime story. One for the kids. So there is a guesthouse we stay at in Lundazi. It’s quaint and affordable on our budget and the staff knows us by name, well, village name. The biggest plus is that they are one of the very few that do not have a noisy bar that bumps obnoxious music all night. What they do have is a small concrete fish pond. It’s about 2x4 meters and maybe ¾ of a meter deep. Awhile back, they decided to stock this “pond” with about 300 fingerlings (juvenile fish). This is really way too many fish for starters, but it was just ok. But then, they began to neglect adding water to the “pond” for several months. Scotty, Cherie and I walked over to it the other day to find the water level had dropped to about 4 inches and all of the fish were piping (when fish gulp the air due to a lack of oxygen in the water). And it smelled like shit. Upon closer examination we realized that the smell was, in fact, coming from floating chunks of human fecal matter. Cherie pulls the garden hose over and turns the water on. A few of the employees rush over to inform us that the chlorine in the tap water will surely kill the fish (hence the reason they had neglected to add water themselves for months). But I mean REALLY? 300 piping fish in 4 inches of turd-infested water and they are worried about a small amount of chlorine killing the fish?? Come on people. And we’re not sure if Lundazi even bothers to add chlorine to the tap water. It’s the numerous stories like these that make this place frustrating, hysterical, and endearing all at the same time.

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

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

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

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

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

I would like you to dance - Birthday

Take a cha-cha-cha-chance - Birthday

I would like you to dance - Birthday

You say it's your birthday

Well it's my birthday too, yeah

You say it's your birthday

We're gonna have a good time

I'm glad it's your birthday

Happy birthday to you.

I love you, Bunny!

Booboo's Mama!

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

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

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

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

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

Until we meet again in Afrika. Tchuess!

Think I’ll begin this blog with updates on organisms not found under the classification Homo sapien. The mama hippo, which lives in the small lake to the east of me, attacked a man who was illegally fishing at midnight. The area of the lake the man was fishing in is well known by all the villagers as the hippo’s territory. The man is still alive, though in the hospital. Riding my bicycle home from town one day, I stopped to talk to a friend traveling in the opposite direction. While we were talking, two men passed on bicycles headed in my direction. Both had big firearms strapped across their backs. This isn’t too unusual, especially since one had an automatic and this is what most military personnel carry, but the other man had a humongous rifle. It was the first rifle I have seen in this country. I noted it, but shrugged it off. After saying good-bye to my friend, I continued my ride home, cutting across a shortcut path through a small forested area. I came out on the feeder road to Phikamalaza and the two men were just ahead of me (they must have taken the long way). They were a bit too far ahead and a bit too speedy on their bikes so I couldn’t stop them. When I asked my villagers about these men I was told they were game rangers and had come to kill the mama hippo. I was a bit upset considering the circumstances (I mean, the man was illegally fishing in a notoriously dangerous area), but as of now they still have not shot the hippo and I think they have even left the area. That same week, two elephants passed less than a kilometer from my house. Yes. Two wild elephants left tracks in the sand and mud in the dambo (same as a draw) just a short walk to the northwest of where I was sleeping. I suggested to my village that maybe, just maybe the elephants were coming to rescue the hippo. I don’t think they believed me.

When I got home from my HIV/AIDS workshop I was told that a pig ate Blanco Pollo. It was a sad day. I was left with four orphan chicks. Then, a hawk picked one off. So I think I’m down to three, but I’m not really sure. However, the circle of life has blessed me with another hen (a gift from my mama’s brother’s second wife). Her name is Bubbles and she doesn’t seem to be very intelligent, even by chicken standards.

The kitties, Gooey Sana and Simon Says are doing fine, sans worms.

It’s sugar cane season.

Now for updates on the Homo sapiens whom I so love. My new baby brother was named after the late Agogo who died in January: Johnston Nyasulu. But the Agogo’s nickname was Scale so this is what everyone calls the baby too.

I am currently in Chipata helping the newest intake shop for their huts. It’s been quite a long few days, but they are all sweethearts and it’s been fun.

I will be reuniting with my dear biological family in LESS THAN 3 WEEKS!!!!! After this shopping adventure in Chipata, I’ll head back to site for a busy week already packed full of activities. Then, I’ll be truckin’ back down here for a Bob Marley festival. Then, scootin’ across the country to ol’ Lusaka. Theeeen, surfin’ the blue skies to zi fatherland (Germany), where I’ll be celebrating Marcey’s graduation from her school of governance in Berlin! Things I’m most excited about: my family, good sausage and even better beer, crazyfast internets (lots o’ photo uploads!), dance clubs, cheese, reliable transportation, reliable water, the ability to go out into public and be completely ignored and/or not stared or yelled at, and the freedom to show the world my whiter-than-a-fishbelly thighs, but most of all I’m excited about hugging my family.

Things I’m slightly apprehensive about: advertisements, pollution, noise (other than the calming effect of chicken squawking), bright lights = less stars, crowds of businessmen with briefcases, shiny objects, over-priced everything, and is there such a thing as over efficiency? If there is, I bet the Germans have mastered it and it will spin my head around. Regardless, I’d say the excitement blows the apprehension out of the water (the water which is currently refusing to flow out of the tap, thus preventing me from taking a much needed shower so that I can make it to my afternoon meeting smelling clean and fresh…Zambian efficiency at its best).

Work is going well. It is definitely picking up. I met with a fish farming group and will be conducting a training session for them on pond management next week.

I’ve been meeting with some active youth groups. At PEPFAR training we received a board game that educates the players about HIV/AIDS. It’s called Edukator. The youth really enjoy playing the game. I taught one youth group how to play Red Rover. They absolutely loved it, except they had a really difficult time pronouncing the name of the game and because this is essential to actually playing the game, we had to rename it with a Tumbuka word: “belelawela,” which means you come over here.

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

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

Rainy season is petering out which is good because Simon Says likes to crawl around between the plastic lining and the grass of my roof and this has caused big holes to form where rain now leaks right over my bed.

Also, with the end of lainy season comes the beginning of cold season. I’m not rearry looking forward to it as central heating exists in none of the structures I frequent. But on the blight side, I’ll get to drink more hot chocorate. :)

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy New Year! And what better way to start the new year than to write a blog...remember the flexibility of time here..in fact, I'm probably still early. I started writing this blog entry in January. Yeeeeeeaaaah. So we’ll start at the obvious place: New Years.

New Years was fun. I spent it in the village. A few days after, however, my Agogo Idah’s husband died. He was the old headman before my Zam-dad. I saw him just a few hours before he died. He was not well. The funeral that followed was quite the cultural experience. I’m still trying to process it. Sure, I had been to a few Zambian funerals before, but this one was right next door, so I got to experience the entire process. First, I helped my family clear the house in complete silence and watched as they tenderly carried the deceased man’s body from one room to another. The village gathered in the sitting room and just outside the house. I sat in a corner. Then, as if on cue the women began wailing and crying and screaming. This went on for hours…well into the night. I went to bed around midnight and got back up at 4. I sat outside the house and watched the sunrise. Then, some men went off to dig the grave and others began constructing the coffin. I never went back into the house. I helped care for my sisters and the small children. People just kept pouring into the village from all directions. There were hundreds as this old headman had been very good and was loved by many. Then, they took the coffin inside the house and you could hear the nails being driven in. Not one person spoke. Preachers stood up and began what I can only imagine was preaching, but it seemed like they were yelling at the people. I think one was drunk. Then, the coffin was brought outside and some women made a circle around it and sang and danced slowly around it. The chief showed up, which at first I thought was quite impressive. But as he gave his speech, he said some of the most disrespectful things I could imagine being said at a funeral…especially in front of the grieving family….with his hand resting on the coffin. After he left, we all proceeded to the gravesite. It was a very long and somber day.

Shortly after, I traveled to Lusaka for In-Service Training. It was so good to see everyone from my intake. They kept us quite busy with sessions and classes and gardening and a counterpart workshop. The most awesome thing that happened, however, was that my sister, Marcey, flew in! Well, that, and I won a lot of kwach at the casino thanks to Sajay, my enabler.

Marcey’s visit was ridiculous, insane, incredible, heart warming, heart wrenching, hot, humid, hilarious, etc. I usually wake up in the village between 6 and 6:30. With Marcey here, we slept in until 7:30 or 8! And let me tell you, my village is a ghost town at that hour. EVERYONE is either at school or at work in their fields….and who said Peace Corps isn’t the real world?

My Zam-fam (Zambian Family) got 2 kittens while I was away! One is a great mouser (with which they are quite pleased), the other has rickets and worms. So many, in fact, that Marcey and I named her “Gooey Sana.” It’s Spanish for “worm” although I’m fairly certain I’m not spelling it right. One night, Marcey went to bed kind of early so I went over to my family’s house to hang out. After about an hour, I went back to my hut to find Marcey, not sleeping, but standing in the middle of my room with a candle. She just looks at me and goes, “Gooey Sana is throwing up under your bed.” So I get on my hands and knees and shine my light under the bed. Sure enough there are several small piles and she is in the back corner hovering over one and scarfin’ it back down. There is a large pile real close to where I am so I shine my light on it and see that it’s moving! Naturally, I freak out. Then, on closer inspection we realize that it isn’t the puke itself that’s moving, but tons of white skinny worms waving and wiggling around! It is like a scene from a horror film. So, I ran to get Idah’s help. I have dealt with grossness here that I never imagined having to deal with and I did it gracefully. But this I just couldn’t handle. Ask Marcey.

Speaking of worms, I was sick the first half of Marcey’s visit and she was sick the last part. :) That did not stop us from gallivanting around the Zambian bush almost everyday (even though I’m pretty sure it was the constant traveling in the unfamiliar heat that got Marcey sick in the first place). We sang lots of Disney songs on our travels. We played netball with the teachers against the students at the school. We got to sit in on a few classes and they sang songs for us! It was really cute. After one week, we went into the BOMA and watched the super bowl rerun….no commercials…it was sorta boring…just wasn't very into it. BUT I did get to make queso from a huge block of velveeta that grandma and grandpa sent me! We made potato wedges and smothered them in cheesy goodness! Along with the beer it almost felt like a genuine American super bowl party…except there were no commercials.

The next day Marcey desperately wanted to get on the internet so she could download readings for the classes she was missing by being here. Pretty important, I will agree, but allow me to expound on the difficulties of interneting in Lundazi. There are 2 known places that like to call themselves internet cafes, but really they are just dark rooms with a few old machines that pass for computers. The first one we walked to is run by an NGO. They buy internet in bundles and when the bytes run out, well, so does your luck. So no luck there, except that they had, in fact, bought more bundles, but no one was sure where they were…really? You just lost your bundles? Just like that? Just misplaced the bytes? After living here for 7 months, I’m the least bit surprised. But several times during Marcey’s visit, including this one, I was reminded of the absurdity of MANY situations in this beautiful country. So we hike over to the other “café” that is run by a religious organization. Turns out they are able to receive the wireless internet that the radio station broadcasts. But they have no vouchers to sell. Yeah. The radio station is back on the other side of town beside the other internet café we just left. So back across town we go. It takes close to an hour to buy our wireless time because the guy selling it isn’t there at first and then he doesn’t have change. When Marcey gets back to the religious café, lo and behold, it still doesn’t work. So, on her way back to where we were staying she stops at the first café where they had miraculously found their lost internets! What should have taken an hour took four. This story should also exemplify for you some of the reasons why it has taken me 2 months to write another blog.

Marcey stayed with me another week. She took astounding photographs. On our last night, we ate Comida. I almost told my mama to cook a different chicken, one that my counterpart had given us. But we decided the new one needed a few months to beef up. I found out that they eat every single part of a chicken. All except this weird skin flap on the butt. They throw that to the dogs. Oh and the feathers. They don’t eat the feathers. But they munch on the toes, feet, head. I even tried a piece of chicken intestine and guess what it tasted like? Chicken, of course. Marcey and I taught them how to bread the chicken before frying it and man, oh man, Comida tasted better than KFC, or even Grandy’s.

Then we headed to Malawi: Marcey, Cherie, and I. It was quite a long trip over to the lake (11 hours and 9 hitches to be exact). We got stuck in a small town/area called Mvera. Yes, MmmmmmVera. For those of you who don’t know, Vera is the lovely name of my even more lovely mother. There is also a very small town in west Texas named Vera. I would drive through it on my way to and from home (in east Texas) during college. It was always a nice reminder of mommy while on the long road. So naturally, I was pleased to have landed in this nice town of Mvera, Malawi, thinking we would surely be graced with a great hitch to get us over to the lake by sunset. Well, Mvera turned out to be a vortex in the universe. We were stuck there waiting for soooo long! Looking back on the experience, even though that town broke us and turned us into delirious lunatics, it taught us patience…and also that I had accidently bought raw eggs instead of boiled eggs in the last town. However, the timing of that discovering was impeccable. Just as Cherie began to laugh at my misfortune (as she is wont to do from time to time), a little old man walked up behind me and said he was hungry. I turned around and said, “Well, I gots 2 eggs here you kin have. They’re raw so be sure n cook’em 'fore ya eat’em.” He looked so bewildered (and not on account of my waning English skills). Eggs are quite expensive and to just be given them by strangers (even though, technically, he asked) is unusual. But really, what was I going to do with them?

Finally, we made it to the lake. Oh, the lake was beautiful. Swimming did my mind, body, and soul wonders, just getting to completely immerse myself in water. It was magical. Magical in that special way that gives you worms. Ha! Yeah. Worms again. So Lake Malawi is known for its schisto. Schisto is a tiny worm that burrows into your skin and lodges itself in your gut somewhere (intestines, bladder, etc). I’m sure google or wiki could explain better than me (if you are going to look it up, know that I’m abbreviating it because I don’t know how to spell it out). Peace Corps won’t treat us for it until we leave at the end of our service. So until then, you can just call me Gooey Sana! You call them worms, I call them uninvited company (but company is company here, so I can’t complain too much).

It rained a lot in Malawi. I hope some of it made it up to my farmers because they have gotten so little this year. But every night there would be a huge downpour that lasted for hours and hours. And every night the roof over my feet would leak and each night the puddle would be larger than the night before. On the morning we left to drop Marcey off at the airport and head back to Zambia (my birthday, in fact), I mentioned the nightly puddles to the girls and explained to Marcey why I had been spooning with her a little more each night. Cherie looks at me and goes: why didn’t you just move the bed over? Cherie's logic = genius.

Not only was Marcey’s visit ridiculous, insane, incredible, heart warming, heart wrenching, hot, humid, hilarious, but it also came with the most inspiring and fulfilling moments. Thank you, my sister and best friend. Thank you for the sacrifice it took to come, monetarily, physically, and scholarly. Thank you for the love and understanding you gave me and my village. Thank you for being there when I cried. Thank you for always making me laugh when I cry. Thank you for the stimulating conversations and the intellectual debates. Thank you for the part of your life that you gave to experience, understand, and live a part of mine. Thank you for being the padoko to my tutuba! Thank you for being the mbasela to my nkuku! Yeah….that last one didn’t make any sense. But then again, neither does my lack of litter box, my inability to buy sunglasses (thanks grandma/pa, I bet you didn't know that I actually needed a pair), nor my irrepressible urge to yell “Booboo’s mama!” at the unsuspecting children.

Enjoy the cold my loves. And the olympics? And for pete’s sake, would someone in Texas drink a Dr. Pepper for me? And Bird, if you get a chance, go to the candy store at the mall and get me a big-o-bag of D.P. jelly beans. I hope they still have'em.

Booboo’s mama!

Wait, that’s Spanish…not chiTumbuka! I’ve been teaching some of my friends here to speak Espanol. It has become a ritual at my hut. Almost every evening, my sister and a few young people that have completed grade 12 (and therefore can speak quite good English) hang out with me. We have leaned quite a lot from each other. I have taught them lots of card games, introduced them to many new genres of music and musicians, talked for great lengths about American culture, and cooked delicious new foods for them (pancakes blew their minds). They tell me all about Zambia from their own perspectives and experiences. It is good to hear this generation’s ideas and views. They are, after all, the ones who are going to make the change and the difference where it really matters.

I’m really surprised at the number of educated individuals that actually complete grade 12 (no easy feat here…there is no free education beyond grade 7 and the cost is ridiculously high, beyond the attainment of most families, especially when they have more than 4 children for whom to pay), yet have no where to go but back home to the village where the only opportunity is to pick up the shovel and hoe and follow in their parents’ struggling footsteps.

I mentioned my Agogo in the last blog. I crocheted her a green hat with a pink and purple flower on it. I don’t think she has taken it off since I gave it to her! She is really cute in it. As always, I will try to post photos…

My Agogo’s name is Idah, as is her granddaughter. Idah the granddaughter is my best friend and sister. She is amazing! If she did well on her grade 9 tests, she will be allowed to continue schooling through grade 12. Grades 10, 11, and 12 cost a family around $200-300 per year. Remember that statistic about Africa that says most families here live on less than $100 a year? Yeah…….

I experienced my first earthquake! There has been some shifting going on in the Great Rift Valley, more over in Malawi, but we are feeling the tremors here. I woke up to my bed shaking. I could simultaneously hear a chicken right outside my wall so my first thought was, “How in the world is that chicken shaking my bed?” Then, I realized how absurd that thought was and blamed the shaking on Mef (my malaria prophylaxis that has been known to cause hallucinations….I’ve only had crazy vivid dreams to date). Later that day, my father, Save Nyasulu (or Zulu for short) told me there was an earthquake and I didn't feel so crazy after all.

My Zambian sister, Idah, gave me a chicken! It is solid white; so naturally, I named it “Blanco Pollo.” While I was at it, I named Idah’s mama chicken “Loco Pollo” because it chases other chickens. The chief gave me a chicken as well! I named it “Comida” because when my sister, Marcey, comes to visit in February (there is not enough room here to express my excitement!!!) she will get to kill and help cook it! Yeah, I don’t think I told you about that yet, Marcey….surprise?

I have really been loving life in my village. I am much more comfortable and happy than I was even a month ago. My relationships with my family here and neighbors strengthen everyday. I’ve met with several fish farmers in the area and have begun advising them on how to improve their current ponds and get them ready to stock with fingerlings. In the upcoming months, I will be conducting management workshops and continue teaching proper feeding techniques. I also helped my father here to measure and dig a new pond!

Development work is difficult. I’m beginning to experience the downsides and flaws of organized (and not so organized) aid programs (Peace Corps included). There is not one simple answer to complex issues. There are many dynamics – cultural, economic, political, historical, religious, local, national, global, generational, etc. – coinciding and colliding. But I didn’t need to come all the way to Africa to figure that one out. I learned it time and time again in college. It is the same in every society and culture. It’s just that…well, I guess I’m just once again realizing how naïve I was before I came. This has been a most humbling and enlightening experience. And the best element is that I continue to discover new things about myself, this culture, American culture, and the natural wonders and cycles of which we are all a part.

Well, right now I’m in Chipata for the holidays (internet has been crap for a few days…). There are 9 of us that came in to celebrate Christmas together at the Provincial house in Chipata. We have been cooking and eating so many delicious dishes. It is so wonderful the people you meet in Peace Corps. I’m talking about the other volunteers. I wasn’t aware of this additional culture with which I would get to interact and become a part of. It is pretty fantastic indeed. There are lots of unique characters and personalities. And it has really broadened my network of friends across the U.S. And it has definitely broadened my repertoire of culinary interests. For breakfast Christmas morning we ate: drop biscuits with gravy made from bacon grease, bacon, scrambled eggs, fried eggs, fruit salad with fresh mangoes and cucumbers, and corn pudding. You have to make almost everything from scratch here and it really makes you realize the incredible-taste-bud-exploding experience that store-bought/pre-made/ready-made/just-add-water products cheat you out of. I’m not convinced anymore that the convenience is worth the sacrifice. For dinner last night, I made Mexican Lasagna. Many of you have tried my attempts at this dish. But we put 2 spins on it here. Aurora made pineapple-mango salsa from scratch for the topping. There are no lasagna noodles to be found in Zambia (maybe Lusaka, but we are 8 hours away), so Kevin made homemade ones! It was pretty fantastic. I successfully made egg nog from scratch. In fact, I have made it three times now and am getting better every time! Makes me think of you Grandma. Wish I could share them with you. I'll make you some when I come home. Oh, and I made banana bread one afternoon and deviled eggs with avocado.

Ok, it’s raining now. I think there is dancing going on in the kitchen, so I’m gonna let yall go for now. Hope you all had a wonderfully blessed Christmas. I miss you all terribly. It has been 6 months since I left Lubbock and last saw my kindred spirits and the land of my birth. It has been 5 months since I left my family and loved ones…longest separation in my life. Something I learned from reading Bless Me, Ultima: it is better to take your experiences (whether trial or tribulation) and turn them into strengths, not weaknesses, for the future.

Oh, one more thing. The clouds here are unreal. Unreal to you at least. Unreal to me at first. It feels like my memories of the first few months of being here are painted with exotic and unbelievable experiences. Recently though, life is becoming more real and personal. I’ve had some very real experiences recently involving violence and death. At the same time, the rains are bringing forth such an explosion of life and love. I enjoy the rhythm of life here. And I like being a part of the whole. I will always be an outsider to this culture, but it is the daily intertwining of my life with the individual lives around me and their spirits, needs, desires, hopes, fears, mysteries, and connections that reaffirms the reality of my experience here. Some days I feel very ordinary and content; like I’ve figured this all out, like I’ve been living this life for a long time. And then, I look up and see these clouds, beautiful and spread across the sky, painted with colors my eyes have never before seen. I watch them as they melt and grow and change and move on, dancing with the sky, and it reminds me of my own dance of growth, change, and impermanence.

Good-bye 2009.

The rains have finally come! That might have been the longest drought of my life. 6 months, I think. The rain is really exciting too. It sounds neat on the grass of my roof and I only have a few leaks, mostly right by my door. But it’s ok. Nothing sits there. Oh, except for this chicken I named Lanolin. If I get my photos posted, you can view Lanolin chillin’ in my doorway during a rain. She’s pretty cool.

I’m going to talk about food:

I made peanut butter the other day. It was fun and delicious! I’m thinking I will buy a mortar and pestle when I go back home and make my own peanut butter from now on. It is SO easy. Ok, maybe I’ll splurge every once in a while and buy some creamy Peter Pan…..or Jiffy……mmmmm…….

On a grosser note, I ate a horrible-looking bug with wings. It was really hard to put in my mouth (yes Heather, I know), but once I did it actually tasted incredibly good (yes Heather, again). It had a nice crunch to it. Check out my photos.

Children bring me mangoes almost everyday. Lots and lots of mangoes.

One of my younger brothers here killed a wild rabbit. They said he snuck up on it while it was sleeping and beat it with a stick. He is probably 9 years old. Then, we ate it. It tasted like wild African rabbit.

Now, I’m going to talk about witchcraft:

There was a hyena trying to eat a piglet the other night. Some say it was a witch creature. Either way, our dogs chased it away. Some powers that witch had.

There is a terrestrial snail here that leaves quite large, pretty, white shells everywhere. I told a few people that I like them and want to decorate my house with them after, of course, assuring them that it is a perfectly normal behavior in America (it is right?). So my Agogo (more on her in a bit) and my father have been bringing me shells when they come home from the fields. Every evening this past week, I have been helping my sister Ida study for her final exams. There is a young guy, Saidy (pronounced “Side-ee), from a cluster of houses next to our village that taught at a nearby school. He is better help than I am and laughs just like Tigger, so I let him hang out with us at my house. The other night, he and Ida and a few others were telling me some interesting things about these snail shells. Apparently, witches decorate the shells with classy effects like beads, needles and pubic hair. Then, they use them to fly to America in 2 seconds. No seriously, 2 seconds. But the catch is they have to be naked. No cargo allowed. Then, once in America, they must land at airports (I mean, where else are you going to land a snail shell covered in….yeah) where their friends are waiting with clothing. I wanna know how they contact their friends. Probably wirelessly, through their charred corncob transmitters covered in bull poop. Scott heard a similar story, except the witches there use reed mats and it takes them 20 minutes to get to America (guess witches in my area are more advanced with their intimate hair follicle usage).

Okay….enough of that. How bout granny stuff:

Grandmother in chiTumbuka is “agogo” and does mine ever. She is purty darn old, but spunky as all get out, I mean a real hoot n’ a half (man, I miss Texas, yall). I’ll try to get a better photo than the one where she fell asleep in my “kitchen.” She lives 2 houses down and loves to wander over and check on me several times a day. She kinda has a scowl on her face, especially when she is trying to understand my Tumbuka and scrunches up her nose. But good gracious her smile is a wonderful thing. It spreads across her scowl like raspberry jam on toast. It is so pleasant. I do things or say things sometimes just to get her to smile. It really makes my day. And makes me miss raspberry jam.

The rain has caused the green to ooze out of the streams and creep across the hills. There was this brown and dying lump of plant material right outside my house. It has now shot up 5 elephant ears!!! One fond memory of my American Granny, Ida’s old house was her huge elephant ear plants (that and the dragon snaps). It was the first place in my memory that I encountered them. Now, across the years and the miles, I have been blessed with my own elephant ears. It’s the small things that connect us.

I hope all is sweet as peaches. I am enjoying being alive and sharing my beat on this beautiful, insane, insect-ridden earth.

They don't celebrate halloween here. They don't even know what it is. But I hope you all have fun tonight and get lots of treats!

Well, it has been quite a month indeed. I have 2 hippos that live in a lake that is only a ten minute bicycle ride from my hut! They will migrate to the lake that is a ten minute walk from me in a few months. They are neat to watch. I haven't seen an entire hippo body yet. They stay in the water, only surfacing to breathe and wiggle their ears!

We had a relaxing weekend last weekend celebrating Cherie's birthday! It was so good to see everyone and talk and hang out and be American...well, as American as you can be in the middle of a fetus.

Please, take this moment to guide your eyes to the right of these words and observe the series of letters and numbers that make up my mailing address!!! I am so happy to finally get this posted. My parents have successfully sent a package so it does work! Takes about a month. And this will be my address from now until the end of my service.

I am now able to kill, defeather, gut, butcher and cook an entire chicken all by myself! I am constantly around chickens. Their behaviors range from funny and endearing to annoying and sometimes alarming. I really enjoy them and think I want to live in a place where I can have them when I get back to America. We have guineas here too and they remind me of the ranch, Mom. We also have 3 ducks. There were 4, but I ate one.

My mama here is having an oven built between our houses! She bakes bread a lot and sells it. She gives me buns-i almost everyday. I eat a lot here. Never would have believed I would gain weight in Africa, but I am. The women love to come up to me and tell me "Anya Zulu mwawona tutuba chomene lino!" Which translates to "Anya Zulu you look very fat today!" Being told you are fat is a compliment here. My emotions are torn on that one. Oh yeah, "tutuba" means fat. I think that word is hilarious. I tried to explain what a tuba is, but I don't think they understood. I feel very alone sometimes when it comes to humor. Their sense of humor is so different. They find things funny that I just don't get at all. And then they don't get my humor at all either and I find myself talking to myself, my walls, water bottle, food, mosquito net....anything that I happen to be looking at at the moment. Oh, I don't think I talk out loud that much...but I do just start laughing at things I think of when no one is around.

I'm finding more time to daydream and its so wonderful! I've also been shelling groundnuts and maize with the women. I've been going to lots of meetings. I played netball with some women last night and it was a lot of fun! Netball is like a combination of basketball and ultimate frisbee with a soccerball.

Day-to-day activities include waking up between 6 and 7am. Everyone else gets up between 4 and 5. Then I sweep my hut out...it's always so dusty. Then I eat cereal or oatmeal. My mama brings me tea and rolls. Then I either go to a meeting or read or crochet or hang out with people in my village. Eat lunch and do one of the above activities again. My sister brings supper to my hut if I don't cook. We eat together and then talk. I have recently been teaching her and others how to play cards. They love it, but it gets very exhausting because they want to play ALL the time. Feel free to send playing cards!

Ok gotta go. I'll try to make it back here in a week or so with more info. LOVE!

Wow! So please, do not expect such frequent bloggings as these. I put up more pics.

We swear-in on Friday. Swearing in for Peace Corps means the same thing as swearing in in the military. We will be swearing to defend the constitution, etc., etc. I get to make a speech in Tumbuka and it will be televised on ZamTV!! crazy.

Friday, I will become an official Peace Corps volunteer! I can't believe I've been here 2 months and that training is almost over! I'm very excited to move to my village, but I'm also sad to be leaving all my fellow trainees. We have all grown very close over the past weeks. 2 trainees went back home last week and that was a weird experience. It was very sad to see them go. It also brought up a lot of mixed emotions and feelings and thoughts and re-evaluations about what I'm doing here and whether or not PC is right for me, if I can handle it, etc. They put a lot of emphasis on contemplation and evaluation of our personal commitments. PC is not an easy journey and it seems a high percentage of people leave before their 2 years are complete. There are situations and emotions that we will go through (and some I/we already have) that are maybe impossible to convey to you because without experiencing them yourself, there are no words. Experiencing and living through these alone and without adequate expression is difficult and everyone deals with it differently on a personal level. I wish all the best to Anthony and Laura. I think we all felt a twinge of jealousy knowing that they now have air conditioning, loved ones nearby, ice cream whenever they want, loved ones nearby, fast internet, loved ones nearby, Mexican food, family and friends...can you tell what I'm missing the most?

People are so different and unique. This is especially fascinating when you realize that Zambians are as diverse as Americans. Loved ones, I know you are still nearby, and will be even closer in 2 years, but I've got a job to do and a Zambian life to live and am terribly excited to get to it! Your words of encouragement in letters, emails, and phone calls are incredibly important to all of us volunteers. Personal comforts can easily be lived without (just ask most rural Zambians). If anything this experience is showing me what is essential in life, what I thrive on personally and as a human being. And only after 2 months! Meghan and I were talking last night and wondering what we will be like in 2 years (as a person). What will our views be? What will be important to us? What will be different? What do we hope will change? What do we hope will not change? What kind of person will we be? How will we come to terms with losing the person we once were? I think these are questions most people face at different times in their life. It just seems like we are fast-tracking them through such an intense experience. But I must admit, this realization makes it all the more exciting and intriguing. I just hope you all still like me. :)

It is odd what has become common-place in my everyday life. I'll try to write down some examples and share them with you at a later time. I've crocheted 7 beanies so far and hope to finish 2 more this week! See my photos for a few.

What's that? You want more philosophizing from me? Ok...so I've been thinking a lot about what I'm doing here....what am I doing here? Have you been wondering the same thing? What the crap does Peace Corps actually do? I honestly did not have a good idea when I first applied nor when I got on the plane to come to Zambia. I think I have a better idea now and I will try to share it with you best as I can...

Peace Corps promotes development and cultural exchange. Yes, I am helping people to develop fish farms, but I am not forcing them to nor am I pretending I know what is best. I am going to be living in a community and providing them with information. Information they could not otherwise find access to (sorry for ending so many sentences with prepositions...my english is going to crap here). When I arrive in my community, I will not tell them that they need fish ponds. If farmers wish to know how to build and manage fish ponds, it is up to them to come to me and work with me in attaining that knowledge. I am to be like a reference point. If the villagers do not want fish ponds, but wish to learn better agricultural practices or maybe they want to grow an orchard, or beekeeping, or they want to know how to make jam, or how to market their crocheted things, or they need help with applying for loans from NGOs...or any number of things...I am there to receive their questions and help them find answers. I am an information resource, not a pusher of beliefs or ideals. Because you are not here, it might be hard to realize the isolation of rural Zambians and their lack of accessible information. It's hard enough to me to find reliable internet, and with the low literacy rate, where and how is a mother of 7 kids (with an 8th grade education) going to find information regarding proper nutrition, and/or information on how to start a sewing co-op with 14 of her closest friends, and/or how she can grow better crops to provide food for her family year-round (yes, most all the women have their own vegetable gardens from which the family survives on. The men grow the cash crops). I will be there to answer questions. If I do not know the answer, my job is to use the resources I have available to me to help them find an answer.

Unlike missionaries and some NGOs, Peace Corps does not promote hand-outs. We do not drive into villages in fancy vehicles, unload a bunch of free crap, and then drive off to expensive hotels with electricity and running water. PC trains individuals to learn the language of the locals and how to take care of oneself in such a rural setting. Then, they drop us off to live with and learn from the people for 2 years. Hopefully, by becoming a trusted member of a community, we will be better able to understand their needs and all the cultural implications wrapped up in the issues and work with them to come up with better solutions to their problems/needs/wants/desires. Also, our development work aims at sustainability. We do not tell the people what they need, instead we work with them, listen to them, and try and help them achieve their goals as sustainably as possible. Sounds good in theory right? We'll see what I think about it all in 2 years...

Oh, not to say missions and NGOs aren't doing great work here....some are, some aren't. Success comes in different forms for different people. I guess what I've learned through training is that our main purpose is to focus on promoting practices that the people can continue to benefit from after we leave their villages. To teach them things that can be passed on to future generations. The second and third goals of PC are cultural exchange. Teach them about American culture and learn Zambian culture to pass on to Americans.

So how about a story?

The little girl (Patti) at my homestay family is scared of cows. These last few evenings after supper we all sit around and chat a little. Patti, being a toddler, will throw tantrums. She likes to grab the container of salt and throw it. So lately the grandmother (Patricia) will hide the salt and when Patti cries for it, Patricia will tell her that the cow outside stole it (there is no cow outside). Then, she will make loud cow noises and Patti will scream and throw herself onto her mother and try to hide! It is so funny! We have a salt stealing cow. Also, my sister Marcey, has recently brought up how interesting it is that different cultures have different sounds for animals. In America, cows say "MOO." Here, cows say "BAUW."How's that for some cultural exchange?

Much love to all. Hope all the philosophizing doesn't have too much B.S. in it...I'm still not sure myself, but I thought I'd give a crack at it (if nothing else, to be able to laugh at myself in a year or so...). Maybe it will give you a better idea of what I'll be trying to achieve personally and professionally over the next 24 months and it will give us all something to discuss in months/years to come.

Thanks for listening. Lutani makola! (go well)

Check out photos here:

http://picasaweb.google.com/ehoelting

I visited my soon-to-be new village, where I'll be living for the next 2 years! It was such an incredible experience. The people are so nice and welcoming and generous. They taught me how to make peanut butter! My village's name is Jimsangu and I am now the daughter of a group headman. So the hierarchy of the traditional system in Phikamalaza is:

Chief

8 group headmen

10 or 11 headmen underneath each of the group headmen

My Zambian "father" is a group headman over a certain area of the Phikamalaza chiefdom. His last name is Nyasulu or Zulu for short. So my name is now Erin Zulu. Everyone calls me Anya Zulu (Anya is like "Miss"). Also, "r's" are usually interchangeable with "l's" so my name sounds like Ellen Zulu! :)

My village actually wanted a female volunteer. This is a very good thing! There is a very strong and large women's group already formed in my village. They have a few fish ponds built as well. They want to learn American crochet stitches and want to teach me their Zambian stitches!!! As you can imagine, I am very excited about this! I received many gifts while I was there (bananas, papaya, teas, a fruit called cabeza). I was even given 2 live pigeons...one I ate for supper that day, the other for lunch the next day. They left the one in my house in a pot over night. When I woke up the next morning it had jumped out and was sitting in the corner!

The 3 volunteers that have been living in Lundazi district for a year are amazing human beings! I am very excited to be a part of their "Dazi family." I really did not want to leave, but I had to come back to training so that I can swear-in and become an official volunteer (I'm still just a trainee).

Eastern Province is very beautiful! Lots of mountains and rolling hills. However, Lundazi district is on a flat plateau...just like Lubbock. But there are lots of mango and banana trees everywhere! Bananas here taste so much better than any I've had before. Lundazi also has a castle! Don't believe me? check out my photos (link at the top)

We did not have enough time to set up a P.O. box at the post office. Soooooo unfortunately I have no address to give you at this time. It makes me sad. Next month I will be able to give you an address.

I have a week and a half left of training! We will swear-in on Sept. 25.

Yesterday, we went into Lusaka and saw lions, monkeys, birds, camels, lots of different ungulates, wild dogs, and a cheetah! We got to swim and I ate a crocodile burger! It was quite a lot of fun. There was also a 22nd year anniversary concert for Peter Tosh going on, so I got to hear some reggae! MAMA AFRICAAAAA!

I'm starting to wear chitenges more and more. Chitenges are pieces of cloth that women use for all kinds of things...usually as a skirt, but they also use them for aprons, blankets, to sit on, to carry a baby with, towels, etc.

Here is a list of things to send me....if ya feel like it:

hard candy (life savers, jolly ranchers, butterscotch thingys, etc)

gummy candies (jelly beans, gummy worms, sour gummy worms, etc)

drink mixes (koolaid, whatever)

COFFEE! (there is only instant coffee. except for one grocery store in Lusaka)

soup mixes....heck, if you can fit a macaroni and cheese box in that would be incredible!

velveeta cheese

magazines (doesn't matter how old the issue is!)

books

fun paper scraps

YARN!!!! (any color, any style. the yarn here is super thin)

crochet patterns

thread

kleenex packets

maps (good for educating the kids)

crayons, markers, crafty things to foster creativity in the children

anything lightweight laying around the house that you don't want.

The top picture is a sunset as seen on the path to my house. The next photo is my hut with chimbuzi in the background. The next photo is of my fellow Tumbuka friends/students/soon-to-be neighbors inside our classroom! left to right: Cherie, Dan, and Scott.

So I chopped off my hair! My friend Leah chopped hers off with me. Here are our before and after photos. And actually, mine got trimmed down a little more than what's in the picture to even things out.

I leave tomorrow to visit my site for a week. From what I've heard (and I will know more after next week), it is right on the Zambia/Malawi border! During that time I will get a P.O. Box. Please, stop sending mail to the Lusaka address now and wait for me to put up my new one.

We are having a dance party tonight! wooooo!

I can't remember what I posted on the last blog so I don't know what to say on this one! I feel like I'm leaving out important details so email me some questions and I will try to answer them on the next blog.

The weather is getting windy and is warming up. Things are supposed to get really hot and dry. Then, at the very beginning of November the bottom of the sky will fall out and it will rain almost non-stop until March. But for now it is mild and the stars are beautiful at night. I have seen a shooting star and have watched a full cycle of the moon. Being outside almost all the time, I am really paying more attention to nature....yes, even more than I did in NHH and growing up on the ranch. There are a heck of a lot of bugs.

Here are the coordinates for my hut (just during training): s15 21 57.97 e28 41 43.98

Put them into google earth to see my roof! :)

Mukhale makola! (stay well)

It has been about one month since I left home and the U.S. Just some

quick information regarding my intake group: there are 42 of us total

forming 2 groups. My group is RAP and deals with helping farmers

integrate fish farming into their livelihoods. There are 18 Rappers.

The other group is CHIP and they are focused on community health. So

PC Zambia has been calling our intake “fish and chips.” Cute, huh?

I am learning the language Tumbuka (pronounced “Toom-boo-ka”). If you

wanna see the area I will be in for 2 years starting at the end of

September, or if you just wanna practice your geography skills, find a

map of Zambia and look up Eastern Province and then within it, the

Lundazi district. There are 4 of us going somewhere in there. I will

find out my exact site next week. Then the next week (1st week of

Sept.), I will be traveling to my site to check it out and set up my

new mailing address for all you love-letter-writers out there.

I have been living with a Zambian family for the last 3 weeks. They

are an unusual Zambian family in that there are only 3 of them: a

grandmother Ba-Patricia (age 48), her daughter Eneress (age 24), and

Eneress’ baby Patti (age 1.5). That’s it. No men, no cows, no goats,

and heavens-to-betsy no chickens! Speaking of animals, I have seen

nothing crazy….other than a herd of monkeys crossing a road. The only

“wildlife” around are lizards, small birds, dogs, cats, cows (not very

many), goats (quite a few), and a sushi-load of chickens (“sushi” is

Bemba for poop. Oh, and “taco” means butt, so you can imagine the

jokes).

My days are pretty full and busy. I wake up around 6:30am. After using

the chimbuzi (outhouse), I eat breakfast and walk to language class.

Language class lasts from 8am to noon. Then, I have 2 hours to eat

lunch and ride my neat Trek mountain bike to technical training. In

technical training, I learn all the ins and outs of rural fish

farming. It is pretty interesting and involves quite a bit. This lasts

from 2-5. Then, I bike home while rockin’ out to the Beatles

(obviously), Tom Petty, Bob Marley, and/or Vampire Weekend (thanks

Caitlin! And I hope you had a very Merry Birthday! I was thinkin’

about you August 2 and wishing I could’ve celebrated with you). The

trail I get to ride my bike on is really fun and you can haul buns (or

just water, on your head as most Zambian women do).

When I get home, my ba-mama has hot water ready for my bucket

bath!!!!! Hands down the best part of my day. It is very relaxing. The

African sun is usually just setting. The view from my bathing shelter

looks out across a valley. I can see other huts and sometimes people

walking around. Children are always playing and you can hear them

laughing and yelling at each other. There is a lot of singing here, as

well as some really fun bird sounds. And I get to stand there naked,

in a light breeze, surrounded by a straw enclosure that turns golden

as it catches the long, evening rays of a sunset, with my feet soaking

in warm water, completely immersed in this far-away land rich with its

sounds, smells, strangeness, and surreal moments. Then I dry off, dump

the dirty water, and get ready for supper.

I eat every lunch and supper with the family sitting on a reed mat.

The staple food here is shima (or nshima, or sima depending on your

language) which is made from corn flour and water. You ball it up and

use it to scoop up whatever else you are eating (potatoes, beans,

eggs, chicken, vegetables, etc.). After supper, I hang out and listen

to Patricia and Eneress talk really fast in Tumbuka and try to pick

out words I am learning. Then, I go to my hut and read/write in my

journal/study Tumbuka/brush my teeth/practice my aim in the

chimbuzi/occasionally talk to Jim, Mom, Dad, Birdy, anybody that

calls, and then fall asleep somewhere around 8 or 9. The sun goes down

around 6 and since there is no electricity, there is not much to do.

And it is REALLY nice getting a good 10 hours of sleep every night!

Oh yes, I should probably let you know the communication situation. I

am going to have very limited internet use. Good, fast internet

connection, that is. But please note: I have internet on my phone so I

can check my email. However, I’ve tried repeatedly (as well as other

volunteers here) to reply and send emails from gmail and it has never

worked. So feel free to send me quick emails any time you want. I’ll

get them, but won’t be able to reply. Just let me know what’s going on

with you and the outside world. I have almost zero access to current

events. There are very few places with internet fast enough to upload

pictures or to operate on Skype. But I do have a phone that you can

call anytime after 7ish my time, which is noon for central time. BUT

remember, I go to bed by 9…..so you only have a 2 hour window! This

will change in October when I am at my site and no longer have classes

or any schedule for that matter.

I believe you must dial this to reach me: 011-260-977-746-154

I believe others have told me that calling cards are cheaper than

Skype for Zambia.

I also believe that all you need is love.

Ok, I guess this is all for now. Hopefully, I will be able to come

back to an internet café to upload another blog before I am posted at

my site. I’m not sure of the internet situation at site, but hopefully

I will be able to blog every month or two.

Keep on living courageously, all you fine folks out there. I miss you

dearly and look forward to hearing from you. And remember, love is all

you need. All together now! All you need is love! Everybody! Love!

Love…love is all you need.

Today, my family is going to Dallas to pick up my little sister (who flies in from her summer in Germany).

Tomorrow, my family drops me off for my flight to Virginia, where I will be for about 36 hours.

Wednesday, I hop on a plane (and yes, I intend to hop) for Johannesburg, South Africa, where I will switch planes for Lusaka, Zambia.

Thursday, I arrive in beautiful and far away Zambia.

I've got soooooo much to do today! Although Jim and I shaved him, I don't think Mesa is going to fit in my luggage. He loves visitors so feel free to visit him at my parents house!

You, yes you, can write and mail me a letter today! Keep in mind I am a very fast swimmer so I will most likely beat it there, but it would be oh so wonderful to receive a piece of you to have with me on my adventures. Erin Hoelting, PCV

Peace Corps

P.O. Box 50707

Lusaka

Zambia

This address will be posted on the sidebar of this blog. IT WILL BE CHANGING at some point in the next month or so. It can take a month for your love letters to reach me, so start writin'!

here's one of my favorite pictures from my going away party at Skooners in Lubbock:

it's me, Daniel, and Yvette

I just watched a spectacular fireworks display in Houston with Jim my love, Monkey my brother, and Will my fantastic friend! This year marks the 40th year anniversary of man landing on the moon....so Houston celebrated by putting on the largest fireworks display in North America.

I have officially left Lubbock. I'm sorry if I did not get to see you before I left, but my time is limited and there is still so much to do. I will miss the west Texas sunsets and I look forward to the day I will be able to return to the place of my birth. Take care fellow Lubbuckians! I love you and will miss you dearly.

So for staging, I will actually be leaving Dallas on July 21st and heading to Arlington, V.A. I will be there for a little over 24 hours before flying out to Africa on the 22nd. I am sad about all the people and things I will miss, but I am still very excited about the crazy journey ahead of me. I also broke down and bought my very first (and possibly last) ipod...I've gotta take my music with me somehow. woo technology....I hope (but don't believe) you won't disappoint me.

Monkey and I are on a trek around Texas...well...just Austin and Houston. I'll put pics up later. Peace.

As many of you already know, I will be serving in Zambia in the Peace Corps. I leave July 22 for staging and then head to Africa a few days later. I do not have specific details for staging yet.

So I spend my last 2 weeks in LBK trying to hammer out a research paper for my final class....talk about a lack of motivation. It is pretty dang hot outside though and I do not want to run the A/C much so I spend my time at the library "working on my paper." I think I spend more time staring out the huge windows....maybe I should move to the basement.

Well, I don't have much more than this to say, so I'll leave you with a list of birds I have been watching flittering around outside:

robin

house sparrow

house finch

doves - mourning and rock....probably

grackles

brown feathers

gray feathers

man weed-eating with a cigarette wearing a black cowboy hat

old man with a funny hat

obese lady

lady on phone with a backpack, purse and 2 handbags

nervous potential freshmen with bossy parents and schedules

ol' bushel-britches

flip-flops

orange

here's a picture of Mesa on his move to the ranch

Stay tuned for more information on how to send me love in the form of letters and packages filled with all those neat things that the internet hasn't figured out how to send. yet.