Out of the vill for 3 weeks!

For the past 3 weeks I've been out of my village. The first week I had to renew my visa to stay in the country while I wait for my official work visa. I ended up staying at the provincial house here in Mansa for the 4 nights we are given each month. We made pasta, cheesy bread, popcorn, burritos, etc. We watched movie after movie, lazed around, and enjoyed the end of community entry.

The next week, all of us from the RAP 2012 intake traveled down to Lusaka for IST (In Service Training) for lectures and discussions with our trainers, counterparts, and other staff. Overall it was quite helpful and gave at least me some good ideas and motivation to get back to the village and start some new projects. In the evenings we headed out to the malls and did out shopping, movie watching, and discovered some all you can eat buffets. They weren't expecting to host dozens of volunteers who just spent 3 months in a village eating the same foods week after week. We got our money's worth.

Finally, after IST, a group of us from Luapula headed east to Malawi for a bit of R&R. Nkhata Bay was our destination, with a stop over in Chipata, where the Eastern Province Peace Corps house is located. They have 2 grocery stores! Whoo! We started off early in the morning and made it in about 8 hours with 3 hitches and a taxi. Turns out the taxi driver we ran into is one of only a few taxi drivers I've met who charges us a fare price and is on time. On our way back to Lusaka a week later I asked him to pick us up at 5:30. At 5:29 he beeps his horn outside.

Crossing the border into Malawi and traveling up country was quite an ordeal. First you have to exchange your money, since you have to get up there where there aren't any ATM's. So you pull out some Zambian kwacha from the ATM in Chipata, then head to the border. As soon as you pull up at the gate to cross into Malawi, a dozen guys bombard the taxi trying to get us to change currency with them. We finally ended up yelling at them all to shut up, we'd pick one of us to exchange money, quote a price, and wait til someone took the deal. Turned out not to be as much of a mess as it looked like, but still quite stressful. So here's the conversions we had to deal with. 1,000 Malawian kwacha is worth about 3 USD. 1 USD is worth about 5,000 Zambian kwacha, or 5 Zambian rebased kwacha, because they just changed their currency, dropping three zero's. So, we were dealing with 4 currencies. But, these guys we were exchanging from weren't from the government, they were in it for the money, so they had to make some money from the exchange, which meant I had to do math so we wouldn't get ripped off. Overall I think we came out quite well, despite their complaints of not getting $50 or $100 USD bills. Whatever.

So we head into Malawi and book some taxis that constantly complain about the price we agreed on, begged for money in advance because they don't fill up their tanks before they get a fare, etc. I could write a book about how much I hate taxi drivers around here, but I'll just say it's a miracle I didn't end up in prison for attacking any of them.

Long story short, we made it to Nkhata Bay, to Mayoka Village. The Bay is actually the site for a small segment in Planet Earth, a series on the Discovery Channel, that highlighted the uniqueness of Lake Malawi. Lake Malawi hosts over 2,000 species of African Cichlids found only in the rift lakes. They are sought after by pet stores because of their unique colors for freshwater fish, some being bright blue, some with black stripes, some yellow, and even others red. It's quite a sight to see. I managed to go scuba diving 3 times, including a night dive, where dolphin fish “hunt” with us and follow our torch lights to find prey that didn't find a good enough hiding spot that night.

Mayoka Village is a great place. Built on the side of a hill, the whole place reminded me of Neverland, I wished they had zip lines to take us everywhere. Bats would fly through the trees, shy but curious monkeys would stop by and peek at us, and sometimes a random crab would take off running across the dining room.

We arrived on a Monday, and saw that every Tuesday they took anyone who wanted to go out on a boat trip to go rock jumping, snorkeling, beach volleyball, and fish eagle feeding. We crammed about 20 of us on a tiny boat that struggled the whole way along the coast to an inlet a few kilometers away. About half way there, the boat captain stopped the engine and began whistling. He picked up a fish he had brought with him, waved it in the air and whistled again. Far off in the distance, a white spec dove off a high limb and coasted along the water. The captain threw the fish into the air, landing several meters from the boat. The white spec had now grown into an African Fish Eagle (looks quite similar to a Bald Eagle) swooped down and grabbed the fish with its talons just like you see in all the pictures and videos. We kept heading down the coast and ended up in a small inlet with some rocky walls. We took a quick stop to climb up a big rock to jump off, then headed to the beach for volleyball.

Our stay ended way too soon. But after being gone for 3 weeks, I was glad to start heading back to my village. 13 hitches later, I sit in the provincial house typing this entry. Tomorrow I'll head back to my hut and begin village life again, pumping my water and watching the sunsets on my porch.

Work

I've had several people ask about the work I'm actually doing here. I guess I haven't mentioned much about that yet. So. I'm a Rural Aquaculture Promotion (RAP) volunteer, which means I'm promoting the use of fish ponds and growing fish as a means of food security, a source of protein for children or vulnerable groups like people with HIV/AIDS, and a source of income and jobs.

My village has a local group of farmers that was set up in 2007 as a fish farming group. The previous volunteer in my village helped them out with 4 fish harvests and just before he left he applied for a grant from PLARD which was awarded, but stalled with the paperwork. For most of community entry I was calling/texting/emailing back and forth to track down what needed to be done and how to get the money to my group. In fact, for most of me service I will work as a liaison between my farmers and their needs, and what different NGO's and government offices can supply/support.

The grant is to help set up the group to be more sustainable in their fish farming endeavors. This includes mainly setting up brooding ponds. Brooding ponds are one of 3 types of ponds I plan to help set up with the group. Traditionally they have only had one type of pond. They bought fingerlings (baby fish), stocked their ponds, fed them, harvested them, and saved the fingerlings to stock for the next harvest. This method works for a while, but is unsustainable for a couple reasons. Mainly, after a while the fish stock will become inbred and will lead to smaller less healthy fish. What I plan on doing is setting up brooding ponds, which have healthy adult fish breeding continuously, supplying my group with hundreds of fingerlings each month. Some will be used to stock another type of pond, a grow out pond, which is used only to grow the fish. Left over fingerlings can be eaten or sold as additional income. The third pond will be a holding pond, a small pond where we place fingerlings to be held until we can stock them (or sell them).

Integration is another way I hope the grant can help out with the group. A lot of the money is for building a better fence around the 20 ponds the group has dug. Inside this fence is enough room to add chickens and pigs, as well as plant some crops which will help feed the fish and create income. The manure from the animals will be added to the compost cribs in the ponds, allowing algae to grow, which the fish eat. The animals will be added to the growing list of things to sell as additional income.

I have started having meetings with the group on Friday mornings. The first meeting 2 people showed up a half hour late to tell me there wasn't going to be a meeting because everyone was getting their fertilizer they had been waiting for for a couple months. Other times it's lightly raining so no one shows up, or there is a funeral so nobody can work for a couple days. But this is their culture. One big thing that has been strange to realize here is that everything that sounds weird to me or that doesn't make sense, makes complete sense to everyone living here. I find it hard to believe entire villages completely stop working in their fields, give away all their animals to give as gifts and eat, and spend literally days sleeping outside near the house of a funeral. But to them, it's completely normal and nobody questions it. So when I complain that nobody worked on the fish ponds when they said they would, it's me that looks strange. But I'm learning and patient. I've got the time if they are willing to listen, so I'm here.

For the next few months I hope to get the fingerlings to the ponds. Right now, the group is clearing out the ponds, which had become a bit overgrown for the last few months. They will begin filling the ponds and getting the correct water levels, as well as start feeding the ponds. Like I said, the compost cribs will house all kinds of organic waste, which breaks down into nitrogen (mostly), which algae grows from. Something like 70% of these fish's diet is algae. But, we have to start early and get a good algae “bloom” before we get fish, so they have something to eat when they arrive. I'll know it's ready when there is a nice green color in the water.

Other than fish farming, volunteers pick up “secondary projects”, basically anything in their village they want to do to help out. Some hold after school groups, work with women's groups, help with HIV/AIDS awareness, etc. I'm hoping to try to set up some tree nurseries, since goats eat any baby trees in my village. There are literally no young mango trees. I'm starting to plant some Moringa trees, which are great to have around since you can eat pretty much the whole tree if you wanted. The leaves are super nutritious, and so are the seed pods. Plus, they start seeding as early as 8 months after planting. I'm also going to try and promote living fences, like the one I set up around my garden. In March, meetings will start for ELITE, a camp for boys I'll be helping out with that teaches leadership, gender equality, farming techniques, probably sports, etc. I don't know what the acronym is for, but there is a similar camp for young girls called GLOW (Girls Leading Our World).

I'm also part of a malaria net study, I think it's partnered with the CDC or something like that. I can't remember if I've mentioned it here on the blog or not. Basically nets have been handed out in this part of the world for years, but they aren't really sure how long they last. Some nets are supposed to last a certain number of years before they need to be replaced, but no one has ever really tested it in the village setting. That's when Peace Corps comes in. We're here, and we're here for a while. So they handed out nets to different households around our villages in both Luapula and Northern Province, Zambia. Every few months, volunteers head out to each family, take a look at their net, and count the number and size of holes and location, then ask a few questions about the usage of the nets and things like how and when they wash them. Hopefully, after the study, the companies will know better how long the nets last, which will help save them time/trouble/money and dispense the nets more effectively.

I'm also hoping to get the community involved in creating some form of a community hall. I was originally thinking of applying for a grant to get a nice building built, but the more I think about it and speak with people about what works best for development in places like this that have been getting free hand outs for generations, giving them one more thing may not be the most sustainable solution. Instead I'm thinking of trying to convince my community the benefits of building their own, something that they can call only theirs. I think if they build something for themselves, they will be more willing to keep it up, since it would be more of a source of pride. That's my thinking anyway. But I think it will be a good thing for the village, since there is no market or place to meet anywhere. If farmers want to have a meeting they will sit under a tree. If it's raining everyone stays at home. Having a central place for meetings and getting out of the weather, as well as being able to sell extra fruits from the garden I think will be a great thing in my village.

I'll keep you posted on all my going's on.

Also, for everyone who's sent a package or letter, thank you so much! It really means a lot. It's great to hear about what's going on back in the states, as well as snack on beef jerky or M&M's (and especially sriracha).

Finally, here is a map I drew out of my hut/compound. The chicken house will be built hopefully this month. I'm planning on naming all my chickens. If you come to visit me and one of the chickens has your name on it, you get a free dinner!

Visual Malawi

Nkhata Bay

Nkhata bay from lodge

Mayoka Village

Boat Tour

Cichlids in Lake Malawi

Day dive

Night dive

Hunting with dolphin fish

Nkhata Bay from Aqua Africa

Malawi countryside

Mayoka Village

Dizzy yet?

Malawi countryside

Bald mountain

Fish necklace I got custom made. The fish is carved from
cow bone, and the beads are actually seeds collected from
the bay.

Fish eagle carving I had custom made also.
Ended up about twice the size I expected.

A Bug's Life (and other pictures)

Ants stealing Bagheera's kapenta.

Kids.

Dragonfly.

Friendly frog.

Grasshopper.

Lizard.

Millipede Bagheera and I played with.

Flower.

What a meal!

Very upset chameleon.

Double digging my garden.

Another Day in Paradise

I said it before, that this place is beautiful, but it just keeps getting better. Before, during the dry season it was clear blue skies everyday. Now that the rainy season is underway, enormous, puffy, billowing clouds scatter the horizon. Some days are even cooler with the addition of rains and clouds, making it more comfortable to work. Everything has started growing and Mabote is blanketed with a carpet of bright green grass. New birds and songs arise each week. Mangoes ripen and fall from the trees making a loud “thump” in the middle of the night. The large clouds make sunsets more colorful, and as it gets darker, lightning and thunder scatter the night sky. When the clouds clear, thousands of stars come out that make my jaw drop.

December 12, 2012

I've been wanting to put up a post of a typical day, like I did back in PST living with my host family during training. Whenever I do, I feel like not only would I be making up a day, but watering down all the unique parts of each day into a more boring version of them all. That is, until today. I feel like taking one day and explaining it in more detail will give you a better picture of what my days are like than some generalization I make up. So here goes.

I woke up a bit early, something like 5:15, not sure why. I wanted to get to Lubwe for fruits and veggies and go before it gets hot. So I got out of bed, slipped into my tropicals (flip flops) and headed outside to walk around my hut and take a look at my plants. All but one of my watermelons had sprouted so I was pleased with that, then I went to inspect my rows of pigeon pea I planted as a bit of a walkway to my cimbusu (outhouse). I went back inside for breakfast which ended up being peanut butter. I had forgotten I planned on having corn flakes.

I went back outside and planted some marigolds inside the two rows of pigeon pea. I feel like this may be a little extravagant for an outhouse. Then I went over to my mango tree to find what may have dropped overnight, adding those to my growing collection of mangos I have ripening on my drying rack (I've got about 25 right now). I ate a few of the good ones, then began setting up for my trip to Lubwe.

I headed for Lubwe on my new Peace Corps issued bike. These things are snazzy, except they weren't at all built for us. First, they have a new type of braking system we don't know how to repair, and second, cannot support the racks given to us by Peace Corps. So luckily our driver who also deals with the bikes in Luapula went to one of the welders in Mansa and rigged a new, stronger, bike rack which now holds a basket I bought in Chongwe to carry the cat I got in Mansa from another Volunteer to my hut.

So I get to Lubwe and buy my usual things – tomatoes, onions, lettuce, ground nuts (peanuts I roast and eat like candy), amabuns (rolls), and a frozen orange Fanta I couldn't pass up. I would have gotten an avocado, but already gotten one for free from a guy who also sells these neat hand carved knives I use for weeding in my garden. I saw his avocados one day and asked “Ni shinga?” (How Much?) “Oh oh, not for sale.” But a moment later he grabbed 2 of his 3 and gave them to me for free. I had met him once before when I was looking at the knives. I asked how much for the “umwele” (knife). He pleased to hear my speak Bemba and told me I was speaking “true Bemba from Northern Province.” I asked what they called them here. His reply, “Simply, knife.”

So I make it back to my hut and decide it's cool enough to do some work in my garden. The living fence of zazamina has been planted, and looks terrible because all the leaves have died and turned brown. I've been assured everything is okay and it will grow fast soon soon.

So I mark off two rows of 1 meter wide beds I will double dig – a method I learned from the LIFE volunteer manual handbook. Basically double digging is digging double the usual depth to help with drainage and lets the roots grow deep instead of wide, allowing for more plants per area. But it takes longer and is more work. Finally got it all done, just one row, before some heavy rain started up. I was glad it had missed me for the bike ride, as well as it being daylight so I could watch how the rainwater rushed past my hut so I could figure out where to dig furrows so my porch doesn't become soggy all the time.

So the rains stopped and I headed back out, planted two rows of sunflower, then started working on two furrows, hopefully that will help out a lot.

By that time I was starting to get hungry, and exited. I had been planning on this meal. I had ripe avocados, beans soaking from the night before, a tortilla recipe in the Peace Corps Zambia cookbook entitled “Where There is no Takeout”, fresh lettuce, onion, and tomato. Hmm.

So I grabbed the matchbox and a chunk of firestarter, picked up the braser, and headed for my shed where I store charcoal under a sheet of plastic. I place the firestarter in the middle of the braser, light it with a match, then start carefully piling charcoal to make a volcano shape. Once the firestarter burns out, there is a tiny hot cavern of red glowing coals, just waiting to boil me some water. So I rinse off my beans, throw in some rice, and put the pot on the braser, then headed back inside to try and roll some tortillas out with my once lost Nalgene bottle that magically turned back up during the house cleaning when we were at the Provincial House during Thanksgiving. I had lost it for about 3 months.

Took the beans/rice off the coals and began frying up the tortillas while chopping up onions and tomato, scooping out avocado, and rinsing lettuce. When it was all done I took a picture, then devoured it all. It was glorious, well worth the effort. Patrick stopped by for a while during the tortilla frying and had a look around my garden and encouraged me to plant groundnuts. I think I will.
Cleanup was the usual. I brought out a basin with soap paste in a pile on the rim, a bucket of water with a pitcher to rinse cleaned dishes. They all go on the drying rack made out of sticks by my shed that is slowly being overtaken by the mango invasion.

Afterwards I took a bucket back to clean up a bit, and to make sure I got off the bits of avocado on my ankle. The leftover avocado that I didn't eat or drop on my legs went to Amos and two other small children who were passing by. I accidentally developed a relationship with some of the neighborhood kids when I paid them to bring more bricks over from the house that was being torn down. Now they bring me mangoes from time to time. I taped up one of the bills I had paid him with a few days ago and asked him what he was going to buy with it. “Soap”

So now I'm clean, my conscious is clean, the dishes are clean, the sun is setting, the cat is going crazy, so I sit down and read on my porch. Today, “Always Looking Up: The Adventures of an Incurable Optimist” by Michael J. Fox. Surprisingly good author. Interesting take of someone with Parkinson's.

So now I lie here on my bed again, wearing my hand out as I write this be candlelight. In a few minutes I'll roll out my yoga mat and work out a bit and try to stretch my back out. It's been getting sore on me from all the biking. I'll take a look at the rig I set up to hopefully grow a small avocado tree. I'd dunked a pit in an old peanut butter jar. Internet said it takes about 2-6 weeks to sprout. I've got about 80 weeks left so I should be good. I'll brush my teeth, fill up my water bottle, top off the water filter, kick off my tropicals, curl up, close my eyes and drift to sleep listening to insects and the rolling thunder off in the distance.

Sendamenipo Mukwai (Good Night)

First Rains, First Impressions, and First Reflections

November 11^th, 2012

It's weird reflecting on how I've changed over these past 4 months. I remember waiting in the airport in New York, but it feels like years ago. I was a different person back then. I was exited, nervous, alone, but surrounded by people like me. I had a limited understanding of the world, how things are, and what real problems really are. I hadn't fully understood how well I had it back in the States. Back then, I didn't know what language I would be speaking everyday, where I would be living, or who my friends would be.

Life here is difficult, but not in the ways I expected. Right now I lay in bed writing this by the light of a candle I bought in bulk in Mansa before being posted, aided by a solar lantern provided by Peace Corps upon our arrival to Zambia. I set the lantern out all day so I could write and read tonight. I just brushed my teeth and rinsed my mouth with filtered water I pumped from a well earlier today and carried it back about 100 yards so I could have water for dishes and bathing this evening. I made food from scratch that I bought and paid for speaking in Bemba in Samfya boma and Lubwe, a 2.5 hour and 30 minute bike ride, respectively. I cooked it over a brazer of lit coals I purchased from my counterpart to help pay for his son's examinations at school.

I never expected these things when preparing to live here. Sure, I knew I'd be biking everywhere and living without electricity, so I packed solar panels and multitools, but never imagined deeply enough about what it would be like to live this way. I especially didn't imagine what it would be like to be used to living this way. For the most part I have completely forgotten about the conveniences of electricity. Sure, I still joke that someone should fix the air conditioner when the temperature inside my hut tips over 90, but even this I'm getting used to. When it gets down to about 75, I'm COLD!

Although I'm speaking Bemba better everyday, my English is suffering. Whenever we speak to Zambians, we have to use simple sentences and short words, just like they have to do for us when speaking Bemba. So many PCV's, myself included, have taken to repeating words instead of using better words. For instance, instead of saying “enormous” we just say “big big”. This expands itself into all different types of words. My vocabulary now includes “soon soon” “fast fast” “sure sure” (pronounced “shore”) “what what?” “far far” and “now now” (goose goose?)

But Bemba is coming along fairly well, though I long for the days I can have a meaningful conversation with my neighbors. Mabote is a relatively less educated village compared to some of the other Volunteer's villages I've visited. So, unlike Volunteers who live near big schools and many people speak English, only a few people in my village can push past “hello” “good” and “okay”. Bemba does come naturally to me sometimes, so I'm glad for that. I occasionally dream in Bemba too. Greetings are a big part of Zambian culture, you must greet everyone. For instance, if you walk up to someone selling vegetables by the road or in the market and ask how much they cost, usually you won't get a friendly response. But, when you ask them how they are, then the price, you get a much better response. My greetings are coming along well, and I can greet people in several different ways throughout the day, much to the excitement of my neighbors. I can tell they are glad to hear me say anything at all, and no one seems annoyed I can't speak better than I do.

My Hut

When I first arrived at my hut for second site visit about 6 weeks ago, my first impression was how small it was. I've got the smallest hut of anyone I know. Most have several rooms and even a hallway. My hut is about 4 x 4 meters. But, although it is small, I love the location, being on the edge of a small village, facing evening sunsets to the west, overlooking a dambo, and a lot of land for me to play with. So, in this past month I have added a porch that runs the length of the hut including a bench to sit on where I cut veggies, pet the cat, etc. The insaka normally used to cook and entertain guests has now been converted into a shed. I bought all the bricks to a hut they were tearing down across the street/bush path, paid some kids to bring them over to build up the walls, then got the carpenter's son to install a door. Now my hut is a bit more spacious and I don't have to back my bike into my hut every night. With the leftover bricks I plan to make an oven for breads and cookies, a grill for those rare occasions I find meat, and a carcoal burner to turn discarded corn cobs into charcoal. I'll probably also spruce up my compost area to organize it a bit and keep the goats and chickens out, as well as construct a hen house and roosting area. Perhaps I'll be ambitious enough to make a brick path to my cimbusu (outhouse) so I don't have to walk through mud when it rains.

I've dug a small nursery for a few crops and am currently removing stumps from an area where I will be making a 6 x 10 meter garden with a living fence of zazamina, soon to be planted when the next rains come. I've found a few banana trees that aren't growing much under a mango tree amongst some thorn bushes, so I hope to transplant them to a better location soon. Mangos are growing bigger in the trees, and some have started to ripen.

Rainy hot season started about a week and a half ago, turning everything into soup for a couple days. It's been dry since then, but each night the winds tease me with the feeling more rain is to come and drop the temperature just a little. Grass and small seedlings have popped up everywhere, making it difficult to tell what I planted in my nursery. Bugs give me a nice symphony at night while I go to sleep, and birds alert me when it's time to wake. Life is simple.

Me

I look a little different than I did 4 months ago. I'm tan, darker than I've ever been. I'm thin, lost about 40 pounds. The pants I brought fall right off me, so I wear elastic running shorts everyday. I'm fit, I bike everywhere, 2 marathons in one day sometimes, over gravel. I beard is long, haven't trimmed much since I came to Zambia. I'm bruised, cut, and scarred. I have blisters on my hands and permanent dirt under my fingernails.

November 15^th, 2012

Bagheera

Bagheera is my kitten. Not really a cat person, but here in Zambia they serve quite a few purposes, mainly in the form of pest control. Although he is still a kitten, I'm glad he is already earning his keep. It's been about 5 weeks here, so he is about 15 weeks old and has already gotten 2 confirmed mouse kills, about a half dozen lizards, many many crickets and wall spiders, one pathetic attempt at a rooster, and most of my toes. He has now been weened from his litter box, much to my relief, and enters and exits the hut through a window. I don't feed him as much anymore because most days he will kill something. In his spare time he sleeps, runs around my hut like a maniac, and climbs trees or stalks chickens/goats/kids. He is a little skinny, but I say he's scrappy and aerodynamic. He's quite a mongrel. But he also helps keep me company. Living in the vill for over a month now has shown me a new level of loneliness and homesickness. Having a cat that tries to sit on my hands while I'm reading, breaking my new Zambia mug the first day at site, or trying to eat the food off my plate does help pass the lonely times I encounter.

Sneak Peek into my Journal

October 31^st 2012

Today begins rainy season. I figured the first few rains would be light drizzles. I was wrong. This reminded me of a hurricane. It was incredible, everything got soaked/flooded. Luckily inside the hut stayed relatively dry except for what came in through the door. No leaks from the roof yet.

I moved inside and closed door because I was getting soaked, when I heard something outside. At first I thought it was goats going after my buckets again, but I looked out and it was a man moving the buckets I placed out in the rain to collect water, underneath my porch. Whatever.

Then he looks in the window and calls for me, then continues to preach to me about how god brought the rains and that this was holy water. I managed to say goodbye and closed the window, then the rest of the windows because he kept making his way around the hut. He kept talking to himself, this was when I was sure he wasn't just exited about the rain, but very drunk indeed.

After a while his ranting stopped, so I looked around to see where he went, only to discover my bike was also gone.

My first thoughts were that he was stealing it. I would have been more furious if I hadn't seen the man before, but he knew my name and looked somewhat familiar, plus the bike has my name on it and is much different from the Zambian bikes, so I was pretty sure I'd get it back. Nevertheless I needed to find it and get it back and make sure he and everyone else knew not to take my things.

I noticed some of my neighbors sitting outside and figured they must have seen someone ride away with my bike. So I walked there in the rain and tried to ask if they had seen it and where it was and who took it. I feel like I got my idea across, but didn't get much of an answer, so I went back home to wait out the rains.

When the rains stopped I could tell the villagers were talking about me. Pangela (one neighbor) ended up going to get my bike back while Peter (another neighbor) went to get Patrick (my counterpart). Other neighbors came to try and tell me what was going on with limited success.

After Pangela brought my bike back, the culprit came to apologize. Now I was drawing a crowd. He got on his knees and apologized, to which I thanked him for apologizing, but sternly said it was not okay to take any of my things.

Patrick came by soon after that and took control. I was actually pretty impressed with how strongly he defended me and attacked him.

He said that the man was drunk and next time to just call the police on him. He made it sound like they were taking him to be arrested, so I'm not sure how involved I'll have to be in that, but it also sounded like they wanted an excuse to get the village drunk in trouble, so maybe they found it. I also wanted to make a point that my belongings belong to me and no one can just take or borrow them. I think this has been accomplished. A win-win for everyone?

I was also very happy to see everyone get involved. I was under the impression that most people liked me being there and knew me and all, but they have only lived with me for 3 weeks and already went way out of their way to help a confused mostly helpless white guy. It makes me feel much more integrated in the community and that I now owe them something in return. I hope I can.

Two Journal Entries in One Blog Post?!?!

November 5^th, 2012

Some days you can just never predict what will happen. I went to see the carpenter to ask about my triangle table this morning. I was told he was in the bush and would return at 13. I went home, ate a huge peanut butter rice mix with onions and sugary cheeky chili sauce. Realized it was just after 13, so headed back out.

Got there, and of course he still wasn't back. Some Bamayos tried to help me by explaining what they didn't know about where the carpenter was. So I sat around and waited.

His little son, probably 10 was standing around holding a bush fruit about the size of a pool ball. I had tried to talk to him when he first came out but he was too shy to talk. I acted out us throwing the “ball” back and forth to each other, and a game soon began. Some little girls came by to watch, but ran away when I tried to get them in the game. Typically genders and age groups don't interact in games. The Bamayos couldn't help but laugh at us play. Another little boy came by, and we began switching from rolling to kicking the ball back and forth. When one of the Bamayos walked by, I invited her to roll it with us. Everyone got a kick out of that! Then the little girls returned, not having the confidence that if Bamayo could play, they could as well. Now we had a crowd. Kids coming from every direction, which turned into a soccer game of keep away until the carpenter finally arrived. I even got him to kick the ball once. It was funny to see the expression on his face returning home to see his front yard stocked full of crazed boys, giggling girls, embarrassed women, and a crazy white kid who started the mess.

Turns out the table that I ordered a month ago and was supposed to be done last Wednesday, delivered last Saturday, won't be done til this Thursday. Welcome to Africa.

(Later that day)

Bagheera took off across the yard, grabbed a lizard in his mouth, ran back in the house to play with it, and let it loose. Now I have a lizard of unknown injuries somewhere hiding amongst all my things. Ugh. Gotta hand it to the little bugger, yesterday he got stung twice by a wasp he finally ate.

First Month (In Pictures!)

Hammock Area

Insaka/Shed

My Hut

Cimbusu and Nursery

Happy Zambian Independence Day!

Wildfires

Introducing Bagheera (with pictures)

In this corner: Lightweight champion holding a win over a roll of toilet paper..

And in this corner: Had a few bites of my tomatoes

Finish Him!