Nothing New

Nothing much to report from Ndola. Life has finally developed somewhat of a routine, and that in itself is a weird feeling. Today I am just writing curriculum for our teacher training sessions. Tomorrow is my birthday which is weird in itself. My mother on Wednesday actually had to remind me that it was my birthday this Saturday. I had totally lost track of time. I am kind of sad because back in the day it was different. When I was young, I started thinking about my birthday in October and could not sleep the night of November the 6th. How I wish I still had that kind of excitement over the small things in life like birthdays. Now it is just another year that has passed by. Who knows what this 25 year of my life will bring? I did not think that the 24th year of my life would bring me to Zambia. Till next time... peace!

Christmas in November???

Ok... I know that you experience this in the states, but I never expected it here. I walked into the grocery store on November the 3rd (Monday), and Christmas music was playing over the loud speakers. The place was also decked out in decorations. I was appalled! Now I love the holidays like it is nobody's business, but this is ridiculous. Of all the things American can bring to Zambia, we had to bring the fact that we start celebrating "Christmas" at the beginning of November. I put quotations around Christmas because all we are celebrating with this ritual is our ridiculous consumerism. I am not casting stones at all. I am in the same boat, but I still think our consumeristic boat is going to sink one day.

There is nothing that I can do about it though; therefore, I started singing along with the music. It is 90 degrees F outside, but I am singing Christmas songs in the grocery store. I already stick out like a sour thumb, but add to the fact that I now sing in the grocery store, I may get kicked out of this country for being a lunatic.

Caterpillars :(

We arrived back in Ndola today. We did not go through the Congo this time but took the long way through Zambia. There were not as many potholes in the roads; therefore, it was a much more enjoyable ride than the one through the Congo. Nothing much more to report than the fact that the fuel crisis is not over. The outer reaches of Zambia still do not have fuel; therefore, we had to carry 35 liters of fuel in containers in the back of our truck. Even with all that fuel, we barely had enough to make it back to Ndola.

One thing that you realize is that there are no guarantees in Zambia. Even the simplest activities are adventures. In other news, it is caterpillar season. I don’t just mean that you see caterpillars everywhere. I mean that it is time to harvest and eat them. I have had them before, and I don’t want them again. Caterpillars were being sold all along the road in rural Zambia and now they are showing up in the markets in Ndola. For some reason they are a delicacy in Zambia.

A Day in Samfya

My day spent in Samfya was very enjoyable. There are four American missionaries here; therefore, it was very fun to converse with them. I spent the day talking to them about life in Samfya and talking to their education coordinator. The education coordinator and I had a pleasant time exchange ideas.

Samfya life is a lot different from Ndola life. Their power and water supply is sporadic, and the missionaries have to drive an hour and a half just to go to the grocery store. Their grocery store is not as good as mine and is missing many basic necessities. I am definitely lucky to be living in Ndola where I can get most anything I need.

The missionaries house is located in one of the most beautiful places in Zambia that I have seen. It sits on top of a bluff that overlooks the lake. Last night we sat outside eating our dinner and watched the storms form over the lake. A night like that is a welcome break from the city life of Ndola. In all it has been a very productive and relaxing trip. The guys here are doing so much to transform the town of Samfya. Whether it is helping the people start farms or grow chickens or providing educational supplies, there are constant projects focussed on raising the quality of life in Samfya.

Through the Congo to Samfya

Today I arrived in Samfya safely. My traveling companion is a guy named Mysheck Fefelo. He is in charge of coordinating the church activities for the Jubilee Center. We left Ndola at 6:30 in the morning and headed toward the Congo. We debated for a while whether to take the way through the Congo because it can be very troublesome for Americans. Luckily, I have a Zambian work permit that looks like a Zambian passport; therefore, the Congolese think that I am Zambian.

In fact, one immigration officer asked me if I was Zambian and of course I told him yes. Mysheck started telling the people that I was a Zambian raised in the USA. The trick for getting through the Congo is to smile and become good friends quickly with the immigration officers. It is ridiculous how many people you have to pay to go through there. There are literally four people in a line, and you have to visit everyone one of them while they look at your passport. Then you have to hand them anywhere from $1-2. They just put the money in their pocket and don’t give you a receipt. Knowing that I am American they know I have money; therefore, their price goes up. Mysheck and I therefore always let him pay. When anybody asked for money from me, I would always say, “No money.” and then point at Mysheck. Of course I had wads of money in my pockets, but if they saw that we were in trouble.

The border towns (see pictures) are crazy places. Everybody is trying to sell you something, or they are always wanting to wash your car. I literally had a guy come up to me and ask me if I wanted to go window shopping. I said no to his question at which time he told me that window shopping is going to look for a girl with whom to have sex. In response I just looked at him like I did not understand. (The dumb look always works when you are in a foreign country.) The spread of HIV/AIDS was exacerbated because of border towns such as these. The towns are know to have a high percentage of people with the disease, and when men, truck drivers especially, come through unfortunately many of them have sex with the girls. Many of the truck drivers have to spend three or four days at the borders waiting to cross the border; therefore, their likelihood of the disease increases with their sexual activity. In turn when they leave, they spread the disease to other parts of Zambia/Africa. It is a very unfortunate situation.

When you cross into the Congo, nothing changes except that you drive on a dirt road instead of a paved one. To imagine it just think driving down a dirt road through a forest for two hours with houses like the one shown in clusters or communities. The one noticeable change is that you do have drive on the right hand side of the road instead of the left. It is weird to switch in the middle of your journey. The Zambian countryside is just like the Congo- forest with brick huts in communities. Seeing rural Zambia makes you appreciate what you have. Though they mostly can’t access them, the urban poor at least have some conveniences around them. The rural poor have NOTHING around them.

Safya is interesting because it is adjacent to a huge lake; therefore, it is a fishing town. In a land locked country like Zambia the lake surprises you. The name of the lake is Lake Bangeweulu, which literally means "where the water meets the sky." The lake is very odd in the fact that you can not tell the difference between the water and the sky. They are both the same color, and it is very hard to distinguish the two. Many Zambians have never seen a lake this size and marvel at it. The sad thing is that because there are no fishing regulations, the lake has been overfished. It is a peaceful place though. Because it is much smaller and less hectic than Ndola the Zambian pace (a.k.a the slow pace) is much more distinct here. That’s it for now. I will be sure to write more about my travels around the Zambian countryside.

Police Frustrations

Today was a frustrating day. Most of the day went very well. I was able to play some good tennis at night and was very productive at work. On the way home someone hit my car from behind. It was not too bad of an accident, but my back bumper was destroyed and my trunk will not close because of the crash. Luckily, I was traveling with two Zambians; therefore, they talked to the people and took care of the logistics. The other driver admitted fault and was very nice. He did not want to report the accident to the police and would pay to have it fixed. I said that we needed to report it, and my Zambian friends agreed. It was the right decision and I would make the same decision again, but that does not mean that I don’t regret it.

It took ONE HOUR for the police to come to the accident. We had to rent a cab, go to the police station, come back and still wait on the police officer. When she finally got there, she gave us a sob story about how she was hungry and breast feeding; therefore, she needed a coke and a doughnut in order to do her job properly. I told the guys that that was ridiculous, but they said that we had to do it to make her happy and make sure everything went ok. After she came to the scene, we then had to drive back to the police station and wait for thirty more minutes while she wrote up the police report. It was a two and a half hour ordeal. I was never mad at the guy who hit me, but that police lady sure did get my blood boiling. My Zambians friends say that it is like this every time you deal with the police.

One of my favorite Zambian stories is told by Martha Temfwe, Lawrence’s wife. A long time ago when their boys were young and Lawrence was in the states, a couple of robbers came to the house. All the doors and gates were locked; therefore, the robbers could not enter the house. Knowing that they were safe inside the house Martha instinctively called the police and told them the situation. The police promptly asked her if she could go outside, get in her car, and come pick them up because they did not have any gas in their cars. Martha hung up the phone and waited for the robbers to leave. Zambia oh Zambia what will we do with you!

Time to Travel

It is time for me to see the rural parts of Zambia. I am traveling tomorrow with a couple of people from the Jubliee Centre to Samfya, Zambia to observe some ministry projects we have in the northern part of Zambia. It should be fun to say the least. There should be a lot of wilderness, and we travel over the longest bridge in Zambia. If you look at the locations of Ndola and Samfya, you will see that it saves time if you pass through the Democratic Republic of Congo. Therefore, on the way there we will do just that. It will definitely be an adventure because the guards at the Congo have been known to give Americans trouble. If you know anything about the DRC, to say that it is a lawless piece of land is a very accurate statement. This will be my first time through the DRC so we will see how it goes. Hopefully, I can get through with no hassle. I will be sure to take lots of pictures and upload them when I return. Until then I am off to the bush.....