4 Days, 5 Nights, 237 Goodbyes

This was written Thursday, but just now posted.

Well this post is a day later than I intended and about a week later than my mother wanted. I've got a social life people. Sure my night life mostly consists of entertaining a few little girls but I also go over to Zimba's and spend time with them, maybe catch the ocasional movie or football game. So my social life is a little slower here than at home. Thats OK. Mom just sent me an email with my schedule for the week I get back. Not a lot of downtime.

In the day to day, we've been working pretty hard on the housing block trying to tie up loose ends. We're planning on starting to paint early this morning. We have a plumber hired to rig up the toilet and dig a new septic tank. The brickwork and doors are all in and the broken windows now have new glass. We've also been working at the new plot trying to get it ready for the Mumbas to move in April. I really like their place. If I could find one like it for a good price back home I'd probably move.

We normally stop working at the housing block around 15.00 when the kids get done with class, and sweep all the classrooms. Then I finish up whatever needs to be done and hang around with some of the teachers until Mr Mumba (their ride home) is ready to leave.

I'm hoping to cook dinner for Zimba's family some evening as a thankyou for the many times I've eaten at their house. I'm thinking pizza, but I'm not sure. Any ideas?

There's an american couple coming out, I guess they got here today, but they're going to spend the weekend at Kafakumba. I think they'll make it to the school on Monday. I'm not sure how long they'll be staying, but I'm kind of glad there'll be someone new here when I leave. Maybe that will make it a little easier on everyone as I go. That kind of sounded concieted didn't it. "What will every one do with out my awesome presence?" But really I'm going to miss people here and I think they'll miss me too. It's kind of funny, even though NZ is a much more beautiful and comfortable country (in my opinion, and don't tell the Zambians I said that) I'll probably never go back there. Given the opportunity I would come back here far sooner because of the people.

Back From Vic Falls

I wrote this at the end of last week but due to some internet issues I'm just now getting it posted.

Well I had a relaxing week, how about you? Monday morning Mr. Mumba picked me up from Lifesong and we headed into Kitwe. We picked up Kafuti and then he dropped us at the bus stop to catch our bus to Lusaka. It's about a 7 hour trip down to Lusaka, and then we bought tickets to Livingstone. We had a couple of hours to kill before leaving, so we took the time to walk around for a while. I figured surely in Lusaka, Zambia's capital and largest city there would be a few more white people. No such luck. I'm still the one that gets mobbed by the taxi drivers and joked about at the market. I told Kafuti that I'd like to be black for just one day so I can see what Africa is like without the stares and jokes.

The bus left Lusaka at 19.30 and after 7 and a half hours we pulled in to Livingstone. We grabbed a taxi who said he new where Livingstone Backpackers was, and after going to two other backpackers (which where indeed backpackers in Livingstone, but not “Livingstone Backpackers”) we made it I gave him a K 50,000 note, which he said he didn't have change for. So we checked with the backpacker and with the Red Cross next door with no luck. He told us he'd run back into town get change and bring it back. Kafuti didn't buy it and told him to go get change and come back and then we'd pay him, which he wouldn't agree to. Instead he wanted one of us to ride back into town with him. Now, it's about 03.30, we've been traveling since 09.00 the morning before and the change was going to be K30,000 (about $6.00), so I overruled Kafuti and told the guy to take the money go get change and bring it back. Turns out that in Africa you should listen to the Africans. We haven't seen the guy since.

After this ordeal we found out that the night guard who was supposed to be left a key for our room, had none. So instead we slept the next few hours on a couple of sofas outside the reception area. I've slept in worse places. Kafuti has lived half his life on the streets, so a soft place to stretch out was welcomed by both of us.

The next morning we caught a shuttle to the falls. It is quite a spectacular place. I don't know how many of you are familiar with how the falls is laid out (and I'm not sure I can describe it real well so you should probably look it up) but basically a river that is quite wide drops over a cliff that is quite wide and then empties into a river that is quite narrow. So excluding the narrow river outlet, you can walk out in front of the falls all the way along the face. It's the rainy season, so there is a ton of water which creates a huge amount of mist so as you stand in front of the falls you periodically glimpses of the massive falls, and periodically get absolutely drenched depending on the wind. I've been told you should really see the falls twice, once in the wet season and once in the dry when you can actually see the whole thing. I won't be able to do that, but this experience was pretty amazing anyway.

The next morning we went on a game drive at Mosi-O-Tunya park. That was definitely worth the 45 bucks. We saw impala, giraffes, warthogs, zebras, elephants, bush-buck, a hippo, baboons, monkeys, and a large assortment of birds. We were not able to find the rhinos, which was disappointing, but I guess you can't have everything. Otherwise we've been to the local museum, out to eat a couple times, and spent a lot of time chilling at the backpacker, reading, swimming and talking. We went to the pub one night and caught part of the Manchester United game. Football fans, gotta love 'em.

Friday morning we packed up and headed to the bus station to catch a bus to Lusaka. We decided to break up our trip home and spend a night there. So after the 7 and a half hour bus ride, we found a taxi (by found a taxi I mean made eye contact with one of the 20 drivers trying to get our attention) and he took us to the backpacker. As a side note about taxis: I have no idea how a taxi driver can actually make money in this country. I think the population is about 2 taxi drivers to every other person. Honestly in Livingstone the taxis outnumber the rest of the cars. Walking to the bus station on Friday I observed a stretch where 9 out of 10 cars were taxis.

Anyway, after checking in at the backpacker we headed to the arcade (shopping mall). I guess it's only one in Zambia. (I could be wrong there) It wasn't real big, but it had some nice shops which were mostly closed because it was youth day. So we walked around, got milkshakes, ate at subway, and then watched a movie in an American style cinema. Probably one of the nicer ones I've been in really. This morning we grabbed and early bus home, and got back around 15.00.

It really felt like I was coming home actually. I've only got about 2 and a half weeks left here. The time has really gone fast. I feel like I haven't been here that long, or done that much. I guess I'll have to try and pack it in.

To those who've emailed: Sorry I haven't emailed. I need to go work now, but I'll get to it this evening, which is your morning, which is soon.

Everything Takes a Little Longer

To say “moving like a speeding herd of turtles” may be a slight exaggeration. It's probably more like a responsible, law abiding herd of turtles. You know me. I'm pretty easy going. No need to get riled up about things taking time. It's a good thing I'm wired this way, because even I acknowledge the slowness with a slight annoyance at times. Mostly I just smile to myself. The funniest part to me is that no one here has any idea.

You'd like examples? Well the fact that I walk considerably faster than most Africans should be the first clue. (Yeah, me, outwalking people) The other day when we were finishing up the roof I was kind of pushing to get done. Morgan says to me, “We'll get this first sheet lined up and then bang bang bang, we'll be done in an hour.” (it's about 12.10 at the time) I told him there was no way, and that it'd actually be 15.00 or 15.30 before we were done. Sure enough 15.35 we stuck on the last sheet. For any LOTR fans, working here feels a little like Merry and Pippin at the council of the Ents. After twenty minutes of talking back and forth, they turn to you and say “we decided to use 150x50 timbers for the roof.” and you're like “twenty minutes ago you said 50x50's weren't big enough, so that was really our only option right?”

I went to church today. It was a joint English/Bemba service so it started at 9.00. I got there about 5 minutes early and sat down. They normally do a lot of stuff before the actual sermon, but today (and this is completely true) it was all of 2 hours and 55 minutes before the pastor got up to speak. It was not only joint English/Bemba (which takes longer to translate) but it was also a baptism/confirmation/communion service as well. We left at about 13.30.

Now I am honestly not complaining. I'm not even criticizing. I'm just informing you of how it is here. Like I said, I do pretty well being chill, and I handle slow very well. My most common reaction is just to smile to myself, but every now and then a little of the efficiency and productivity training that constituted the majority of my college education whispers in my ear. I'll try and help them grow and they'll do the same for me. It's what I love about traveling.

Tomorrow morning at 7.45 I'll be leaving with Kafuti to head down to Livingstone and Victoria Falls. I'll be taking a lot of pictures, and I'll tell you all about it when I get back. If not sooner.

Someone You Should Know

I feel like I should post, but I don't really know what about. So rather than another rambling blog I think I'll introduce you to someone.

Meet Monica. Wife of Zimba, Mother of "Zimba's girls", Cleaner of the guest house, Doer of my laundry, and all around great person.

She doesn't speak a lot of English so we don't talk a whole lot, but we get by. Really I put just about everything I know about her in that second paragraph. So yeah, that's Monica. She's one thick bowl of Nshima, as they say here in Zambia. Actually I just made that up. OK I'm through.