Profiles » Ratty_n_JP » Two Years in Zambia
Africa » Zambia
Three letters all at once... - Tuesday, September 4, 2001
by Rat and Jena
Incredible postal delivery came in the mail today: three lovely letters from Zambia! Ryan wrote the first two, and Jena chimed in with the third. Here are all thee, in sequence.
August 11, 2001 letter #11
Last night I dreamed of massive redwood trees... (I also took mephloquine yesterday which is said to enhance dream images. Perhaps there s a market for that stuff in the States.)
The day has come: We finally arrived in the village where we will live for the next two years. Mukamuluti is the name, and I'm not sure how big it is. The layout here is similar to other Zambian neighborhoods we've seen: a web of dirt paths connecting many groups of mud huts. Our little group is about 12 households. (Everyone is somehow related to everyone else, and an introductory greeting often includes I'm the cousin of Bageorge, and Bamoses is my nephew. We'll need a family tree to keep everyone straight.)
We've begun exploring on foot, and have located the community water pump, primary school, soccer field, tuck shop (small cinder block building selling soap, maize and various African sundries) and a common garden that is beautifully tended. Rich brown soil supporting manicured rows of cabbage and rape (similar to kale). JP was ecstatic!
Our arrival in the village was/is generally warm with a few notable exceptions: our house is not finished. Part of the problem is a political situation that I'll explain later, the other is a cultural issue: The villagers who donate the materials and labor for the house didn't t believe we were REALLY coming to live in a village. This situation is common in Peace Corps/Africa. After all, why would an American want to live in the village? We've tried several answers to this question, but Zambians still think we are crazy. (We've wondered the same thing a couple of times!)
So currently our house has four walls, one doorway and about six windows (holes in the mud-brick walls). It is very large by African standards, four times the size of our 8 x 8 cell block in Kitwe. The work that remains is to construct a grass thatch roof, dig the pit toilet and erect a shade structure to cook in on hot days. (Isn't that EVERY day?) Additionally, we're planning to plant a vegetable garden and JP toyed with the idea of a sauna. I told her to stand in the sun with a wet towel on her head for the same effect. All of said construction (sans sauna) is slated to be complete within two weeks, with our assistance and encouragement. Until then, we are staying in a hut belonging to the secretary of the Community Resource Board (CRB), a group that our project will work with closely.
The political turmoil is this: In 1996 the chief of this area died, and for some reason the usual passing of power did not occur immediately. Consequently, it is now unclear who the rightful heir is. So no less than 3 sub-chiefs have claimed the title, and after some months of smoldering, the issue went to court. (I picture 3 fat men talking simultaneously: I'm the man. No, I'M the man.!) In the absence of a clear leader, a group called the Nyawa Land Trust has formed (under the orchestration of a rich, white Zimbabwean) with the purpose of establishing a private game ranch (for profit) and the disbanding of the CRB. The Community Based Natural Resource Management Structure (that's CBNRM for short!) as steered by the CRB, was established by the Zambian Wildlife Authority in 1999 to give local people control over their natural resources. Sounds good, huh? We'll see who comes out on top. Meanwhile, JP and I will work on our house and teach environmental ed at the nearby primary school.
The mango trees, which are EVERYWHERE and illegal to cut under tribal law, are in full bloom. The flowers ain't much to look at, but the audible buzzing of bees pollinating is a promise of a sweet December. For Christmas this year, I'll give JP a fruiting mango tree in our front yard. Wahoo! Speaking of Christmas, JP just started reading the first Harry Potter book, and wishes to request others in the series. On my Xmas list is the entire Encyclopedia Britannica set, shipped first class and packed with lead shot. I've been a good boy this year.
Our first couple of days in the village have been very good. We are having a great time exploring our new home; every couple of hours a new person comes to our door and introduces him/herself. It's a bit of an emotional roller-coaster too. I find myself alternating between "This is a beautiful and exotic land filled with wonder", and "These people expect us to help them with problems we can t understand, and our grasp of Tonga is severely lacking!" At the end of a day, we've each had a year's worth of mood swings, mosquito bites and sun exposure. By the end of two years here we'll be leathery, bumpy and neurotic. I hope you'll still put up with us!
Speaking of putting up with, tomorrow is our one year anniversary, which means JP has put up with my silly ways (and I hers) for one entire trip around the sun! What a different world our wedding day was the Country Fair grounds, seems like ages ago. To celebrate this, our (toilet) paper anniversary, we will attempt a Pillsbury chocolate cake in a cast iron dutch oven. In the likely event that the cake is a flop, we have coffee nips and cheap gin. Sounds like the makings of a memorable one!
August 12: Today I found a rather tortured scrap of paper in the pocket of some recently unpacked pants: an itemized receipt from a grocery store. One April 5, 2001 at 6:57 p.m. I purchased ALL of the luxuries that we now live without: roaster hazelnuts, Bandon cheddar cheese, Nancy s Yogurt, rice pilaf, 14 lb.s of cat litter (we miss you, Sassafras!), Rising Moon ravioli, Sierra Nevada Soup. Did we really live that well in America? Well, I'd better go. I've got some sandy beans and rice to consume. Perhaps we'll get fancy and add hot sauce today!
We still miss and love you all very much.
Rat
P.S's -- Mom and Dad, thank you very much for giving me a name with three R's in it, a letter that does not exist in the Tonga alphabet. "Ryan Turner" gives most Zambians so much fuss that I may change it to Joe Smith.
New birds: Scarlet-chested sunbird, crested barbaet, blue waxbill, bat-like spinetail (a swift), hoopoe.
Our fellow villagers just spotted, then killed, another white mamba snake. That makes 2 in 3 days! The bad feeling about snakes here is one thing that we could never change. After the first one was slain, JP mentioned how beautiful a creature it was. They looked at her like she had just sprouted a second head!
(On the envelope Ryan drew a schematic of their hut and yard layout, complete with grass fence to exclude pigs, goats and chickens. )
August 14, 2001 - letter #12
Lesson # 31 from the African bush: never use a mousetrap to catch a rat. As I mentioned in a previous letter, we are temporarily squatting in a hut belonging to a (future) neighbor. The man lives alone except for the handful of lizards and rodents that are fixtures in everyone's home here. Being good guests and light sleepers, we tried our little cheap-o mouse traps, and managed to half-kill a rat. The *snap* of the trap woke us, then a pause, then the sound of the trap dragging across the floor. In the pitch black, it was a very Edgar Allen Poe moment. After it became clear that the poor little chap was not going to go gracefully, I took the trap (with rat dangling from half-smashed head) outside and quickly dispatched him with a brick.And they say rural Africa will harden your heart.
They also say that when one enters a new culture, a series of three attitudes will be experienced by the visitor. First amazement and joy because everything is new and exotic, then comes a sense of repulsion (as the newness wears off), followed by acceptance. I spent most of yesterday in Stage 2, but my faithful sidekick kept me from strangling anyone. At times, this Collectivist (capital C ) society drives my individualist soul up the wall. Not sure if I can accurately describe this without sounding really odd, but imagine a group of people who seem so uncomfortable being alone that they can't stand to see YOU alone. Frequently our morning bird walks are pre-empted by a well-meaning Zambian who REALLY wants to talk/ listen/ show you his garden and just be with somebody. This is all well and fine 90% of the time, but there are those times when all you want to do is be left to your own devices. There is also a strong group think current here. Acting and thinking as an individual are not valued traits, and thus not drilled into children's heads like we do in America. A Zambian parent would never proudly claim that their child could now dress and feed herself. Family is a broad unit where everyone relies on everyone else (the Bright side) but the role of each family member is rigidly defined and strictly adhered to (the Dark side). It feels like we now roughly understand a lot of these things, but it's hard to believe the depth to which they affect reality here. Ahhhhh -- I feel better now -- thanks!
We've also been having a bit of fun openly flouting the sex roles. I've been cooking and hauling water (1/4 km, by the way) and JP helps with house construction and keeps threatening to play soccer with the men. (Women NEVER play soccer.) Zambians usually just smile, shake their heads and say, "You people...!"
Yesterday we saw a shooting star pierce the Southern Cross, ate baobab fruit (white, pulpy stuff high in vitamin C) and watched a local soccer tournament where 2/3 of the players were barefoot. Today I came upon a broken-down truck and helped 10 children push it to a nearby garage, visited the headmaster of a local grade school who was drippingly proud of his tiny office and third-hand desk, then I got lost on the way home but was found and escorted through the bush by a 10-year-old kid on a 30-year-old adult's bicycle with no brakes or pedals. Every day contains countless, priceless Africanisms that make life worthwhile.
JP took an impressive spill on her bicycle today: over the handlebars, onto the left shoulder, then rolled to a stop, stars going round her (helmeted) head. Still tender this evening (the shoulder, that is) so tomorrow we'll head to the Nyawa clinic so the local witch doctor can burn incense and apply herbs or whatever.
August 15: JP's wing is much better today, thanks to a self-administered herbal mix of comfrey, arnica, St. John's Wort and 400 mg of ibuprofen. Despite a good recovery, we did travel the 4 miles via bush path to the Nyawa clinic, not so much to see a local nurse, but also to see how far away it is. I can tell you that I would not want to walk that far with a gaping head wound.
Anyway, today our plan was to use the clinic phone (our nearest line) to call the Peace Corps nurse in Lusaka to consult her about ibuprofen dose. I should know Africa well enough by now, but we were still mildly surprised to find that the clinic telephone receiver had been taken to town (120 kms) for repair. To heighten the African-ness of the situation, we were first told to wait briefly for the telephone to return, then as we were departing later (empty-handed) the nurse advised us to try back in two weeks! Not sure how we went from this afternoon to two weeks, but there you have it. Makes us a little concerned about the "your house will be done in two weeks" comment.... (By the way, we've been here for 6 days and the only progress has been the delivery of poles and more grass for the roof.) We are learning that African patience is an art involving faith and lots of sitting.
Love, JP and RT
August 16, 2001 - from Jena, who writes:
Jena's finally back in the letter writing loop.... (I've been on a bit of a hiatus, trying to get my feet under me.)
So, we are in the village. Yep. We are here, by golly. And, oh! our house isn't finished? No problem....that's how it all began...
I'll try to bring you along on the journey that we've been on for a week straight, with no end in sight! (P.S. We are really enjoying ourselves here, but we also enjoy sharing what little gossip we have with you.)
On a fine day we arrived in a whirlwind to our village: Mukamuluti; two vehicles -- a Peace Corps land cruiser and a CONASA land cruiser -- dust flying. (CONASA, by the way, is an NGO we are working in collaboration with. CONASA = Community Based Natural Resource Management and Sustainable Agriculture). Rat and I arrived a bit bedraggled, but full of anticipation and idealism (and a bout of diarrhea). We arrived to four mud walls and nothing else (except tall door frames - lucky for Ratsy, who has a unicorn horn from hitting his head on these short hut entrances). No cikuta (kitchen structure), no cimbuzi (pit latrine/toilet), no cisambilo (bathing structure) but most important, no roof, no door, no floors. If I do say so myself, we took it all in stride, accepted our fated lesson TO LEARN PATIENCE, and proceeded greeting our neighbors in broken Tonga.
The contacts in the village said, "No problem, we have a place just there for them to stay while we finish the house in the next two weeks." Two fields and ten minutes later, past the borehole, we arrived at an old tobacco plantation. The idea was for us to stay in the middle of nowhere without a single neighbor anywhere in sight until our house was finished. Luckily we have such an awesome APCD (Assistant Peace Corps Director - aka our boss, Kim Jenkins) who immediately poo-poo'ed the idea, explaining that we couldn't be making friends if we weren't part of the village! We hoofed back to the village, and they said again, "No problem, you can stay in Moses' house." (Moses was nowhere to be seen.) In fact, Moses was still on his way back from Eastern Province, to arrive later that night. So they walk into his house, and start moving out all of his things -- took about 7 minutes -- then started moving us in. I have to tell you an aside:
So...about the hut we are staying in, Moses' hut. To begin with, it has a large (one entire outside wall) painting of Jesus Christ and a woman (Mary?) with the Bible verse: John: 4:17. Those who are religious appreciate this, but I found it hilarious, laughter overtook Rat, Kim and me. We gave the thumbs up. Then someone from CONASA says, Oh, these plants planted in front cause divorce. Rat and I look at each other and say, "No problem."
Inside, the bedroom door is so short, even I have developed a large callus that resembles a white rhino. The windows, few and screenless, are quaint and triangular. But the clincher is trying to sleep at night as the rats (tens? hundreds?) chase each other, gleefully eating our food. So The Big Rat -- Rat Man -- puts out a mouse trap. But, all I will share is: mouse traps don't kill rats, they simply maim them. Rat was brave, he finished off the half-dead rat with a brick while I squealed in pain. But in actuality these digs are quite comfortable. We are slowly finding our stride.
Okay, back to the bigger house issue (i.e. not having our own). So Moses shows up and is such a sweet soul that we feel guilty that we've taken his house. Everyone pipes in, "No, it s okay, he doesn't mind." Even if he did, he would never say. So we are waiting and waiting and waiting. The second day we were there they said, we are able to start working on the house. But we are waiting for someone to show. Six hours later we are still trying to figure out what we are waiting for, someone shows up, sits down, and a two-hour discussion (all in Tonga) ensues, parts a bit heated. Rat and I stall and wait. Laugh. Stare and wait. Next day: Saturday, oh, we worship on Saturday so we will start on the house tomorrow. Sunday: oh, the people who know how to do the roof worship on Sunday. Some people will work tomorrow. Monday and Tuesday, an inter-village, two-day football (soccer) tournament takes place. We watch. We wait. No major injuries, just a disputed foul or two. Tuesday: JP gets in bike accident. (But really, Guys, even though I'm injured you can maybe start on the house?... Please, someone ?)
Wednesday: no nails, someone needs to go to Livingstone to get nails (120 km away). How about NO FORESIGHT! I pipe up, "We've got nails!" which happen to be the right size. Thursday: 2 funerals started today, no work for 4 days, and oh, we are back to both sabbaths!
We'll keep you up-dated. Zambia! Zambia! Zambia! Meanwhile we are taking refuge in Moses' Ark, but I don't think it will float
We miss you all desperately, Drink good wine and eat good chocolate for us. Buy a latte and read a newspaper.
Waiting for the flood.....JP & RT
- Created:
- Tuesday, October 12, 2004 at 12:48 PM