Not In Kansas (or Missouri) Anymore!

This is harvest time here, so there is not as much for me to do right now, which is nice as it lets me get used to the village, the people and learn all I can. My days are spent, making breakfast, going to language class, home for lunch, nap time, wandering the village greeting people or looking around, doing laundry or siting around and reading. Laundry is an all day affair, first it starts with sorting, I pull things out of my dirty clothes bag and decide if they really need to be washed yet, or if they can be worn a few more times, then I find a brother to go get water for me, get new coals, heat the water, wash clothes, which never really get too clean and then letting them dry for the next 2 days.

I also spend time watching the chickens, catching holding the new baby chicks, getting scared by a hen that chased me away from her chicks, trying to get the dog that has taken up residence in my yard to come to me. I named her Anubis, because she is part jackal. She is pregnant. She won't get close to me, I think she has been beaten too many times, but she will eat the food I throw to her. And has taken to sleeping on my step at night. Zambians are puzzled to learn that Peace corps workers can make pets form the dogs. It's mostly because we feed them and don't beat them, but they don't understand either of those concepts.

Zambians do not spend time in their houses, and the are always checking on me, if I don't stay outside. Houses are for sleeping, life is lived outside. Being in your yard allows others to see and greet you, which is very important to being part of a village. I went to the local chair maker and got a beautiful chair, I know I can't bring it home, but I will have a picture of it. It's like the Mamasan chairs of the 70s in America. So I now have a chair I can sit in inside or outside of my house.

One night I got to go to my family's house to watch a movie. My family has a generator and they have a dvd player and tv, which is how we watched the movie. It was all in Bemba, so I didn't understand any of it. It looked like it had been filmed on a cell phone and edited by 4 year olds. A funny thing about Zambians is their hearing is awesome, they can talk being miles apart without hardly raising their voices, but turn on a tv or radio and it's so loud it blows you out of the room.

It's the cold season here, so the people are always complaining about the cold and they wear heavy coats if they have them. They don't understand how I can walk around in short sleeves, it's the cold season, did I tell you it's about 70! Night can be cold, high 40s to low 50s. But with no real walls, doors, or windows, and the dampness, it can seem colder. I do wrap up in my blankets and sleeping bag then.

I am lucky to have a school in Kowama and the language teacher is allowing me to come to class and help me better learn Kikaonde. I am in the 8th grade Kikaonde class. I think I should be in about the 4th grade class, but they thought it would embarrass me. I go 3 or 4 days a week. The first day I was given a book to read, after 3 paragraphs, I had a sheet of questions, so that night my sister Rhoda helped me. In class I learn how to read and speak and am getting better. I also learn a lot about the kids, their families and way of life. I also learned they are taught Zam-english, such as the word WHY is spelled waayi, that is phonetic to the Zambian language. Interfere is spelled intfyre. In some books words are written correctly and in others it's all in Zam-english.

It costs the families of the kids 45 kwacha a semester to sent their kids to school. If they haven't paid, they have to leave. The teachers are paid by the government, but the books, school building, desks, chalk, any supplies are all paid by the student fees.

School has helped the village warm up to me. Of course, everyone knows me but they are now staring to greet em and if adults hear kids calling me muzungu (a slang word like "cracker" for white people) they will tell the kids, no, she is BaHannah.

One day I got to sit in on a case my BaTata was judging here in Kowama. My language skills allowed me understand most of it, I picked out words that made me understand that the 2 men were upset because one of them had been stealing food from the kitchen of the other for about 3 years. The man was fined 25 Kwacha and the 2 men left happy, laughing and holding hands.

At supper that night my sister asked me if I had understood the case. I explained to her I had and told her what it was about. She laughed and laughed. She explained that it was about the one man had been having sex with the other man's wife for 3 years. I threw my hands in the air and hung my head saying I'd never get this. My BaMama, who didn't understand us as we had been speaking English, just walked by and patted my head and made comforting mama sounds. Just when you think you got it...

In class one day I had to write a 120 word paper on a soccer game.
A. I know nothing about soccer and
B. I only got 95 words, but the teacher generously gave me a B grade.

The children have school in the mornings and clubs after lunch. They asked me to come meet with a boys group to talk about HIV and AIDS prevention. During training we are given a course to follow as this is part of what we do on a regular basis. There was one boy in the class that asked lots of questions and was really wanting the knowledge. This is a class I will teach often to boys and girls. They hand out condoms at the school but they do try to teach abstinence, and since most kids start having children around 15, I guess it's really not that long to wait.


I spend a lot of days wandering the village and learning about the people. The women are in the fields harvesting, ground nuts, maize and beans. One day after watching my BaMama strap on her 3month old baby, Maureen and head to the fields with  3 year old Melda in tow, I asked my BaTata if the men went to the fields to harvest, he said sometimes, but it was really too hot for the men to work in the fields! (Apparently the BaMayos don't get hot!)

I met a farmer one day that was very happy I had come to his farm, he had something to show me. He came back with a Yen. He had had it for about 60 years and didn't know what it was or where it came from. He had been waiting to ask a white person because he knew that they would know.

Greetings are very important in Africa. Each morning every person you see you must go through the same ritual. You see someone and say 'You're awake' the answer is 'Yes, I'm awake'. Next step is 'How was your sleep?', answer, 'My sleep was fine'. Unlike in America where 'how are you?' always gets a 'fine', here they really are concerned with health and well being, so if you are not fine, they really want to know, so it can be discussed.

A reference for my Harry Potter friends out there, Zambians and especially my BaTata are like Arthur Wealsey in Harry Potter. I am their "muggle (american)" they love to talk about America. I spent an hour talking about washing machines with my BaTata, he is fascinated by all things modern, technology and American. As are a lot of the people, they want to know things like, why and how is my hair so shiny, is our blood different from theirs, what kind of sports we have. The list is endless.

I did finally get to go to a soccer game. It was between Kowama and Mufumbwe. The soccer players are the biggest and best young men in the village, and in a place where most men are about my size (5'5') the soccer players can be impressive. Kowama won, at least that is what my brother Popo told me. One of the players is a local handyman and has come to my house to do a few repairs and lime my walls. He also leaves a huge mess and want to drink my vodka.

The kids make toys out of everything. Soccer balls are rolled up material or plastic bags. Kites are plastic bags with sticks and they love to go through my trash and find so much to use for toys there too.

One day I went to school, to find that we were not having school as it was a clinic day. All the children of the area were there, more than I had ever seen and they were all given some vaccines, weighed and measured. I then went with the workers throughout the village to do a 5yr and under baby check. I think I did more harm than good as white people make babies cry and I made a lot of babies cry! I am good at holding and handling babies and when the mothers found that out, I was handed baby after baby to hold and play with anyway.

One day I was visiting with my BaMama and a few other BaMayos. I was handed a baby and was playing with it, when it pooped on me. The BaMayos got quiet and watched to see if I would be angry, but I just stood up, brushed it off and turned my the wet spot to the side, and sat back down, they laughed and clapped, very happy that I was like them. 

Children after about age 3 or 4 are on their own. No one really takes care of them or watches them too closely. My brothers and sisters of which there are 11 and I am still learning the names are no exception. BaMama has given them all whistles, which they start blowing at 5am! But as I watched I realized there was a method to her madness. They wonder off all day and when she comes home from the fields she will blow her whistle and you can hear the answering call of theirs' in the brush.

My oldest sister is about 24, is married, lives here and has a 4 year old daughter and a baby.
Then there is one I have not met, not sure if it's a boy or girl and not sure where they fit in the family. Rhode is 19 and travels back and forth or stays the week in Mufumbwe for school, she has 1 year old son, Joseph. Janet and another sister are about 17 and 18 the go to school and live in Mufumbwe. They are more modern. They straighten their hair and dress more like the city girls. BaTata is not as happy they are still in school, but BaMama is.
There are 4 brothers at home, they are 12- his name I can't remember
10 - Thumpa
and twin 5 year olds, one is named Popo, the other I haven't learned yet.
Then 3 year old Melda and 3 month old Maureen.

The twins are Trouble, notice the capital T! One day I walked into their yard to find them with a lame chicken, it had become a toy, they were tossing it around like a ball, carrying it and who knows what else. A couple of days later when I walked into the yard they were whispering and I knew something was up! I found them with a large butcher knife cutting the chicken up and putting it all into a pot to cook! I asked them if they were supposed to be doing that and they looked at me like I was stupid! So, I guess it was okay as that was supper that night. BTW, I learned last year from the Lawrences in Plattsburg how to kill, and butcher a chicken. The twins did a good as a job as I could have and they did it was their big knife. They did cut the guts open and I told them they shouldn't do that, got the patented crazy muzungu look and they threw the guts in the pot with the meat, heads and feet...nothing goes to waste! Not how I was taught!  I found them the next day trying to pick lemons, but they were too short to reach so I put them on my shoulders to help. They are comical and always to be watched!

Melda is my favorite, she is so sweet and likes to be with me. And Maureen has been sick and crying for the last couple of weeks. My BaMama is so tired being up with her day and night, I go over to help whenever I can.One day I heard Muareen crying and went over to find her in a box in the yard with Melda sitting beside her, telling her to hush, the the older boys playing with the chicken. So I picked up the baby and she smiled and laughed. My BaMama came into the yard with a 70kilo bag of grounds nuts on her head and we spent the rest of day shelling them. I will have a picture next month where you can see them drying on the roof of the house. My thumbs have blisters!

I awoke to wailing in the village one morning to find out that a church leader had died and that my BaMama was going to go to Solweiz to the funeral for the next week, she would take the baby with her. My BaTata would be at the palace for the week also. Leaving Melda, the twins the 10 and 12 yr olds all home alone. I asked if they wanted me to stay with or watch the kids, the answer was no, why did they need someone to watch them. I forget I'm not in America, where we have to watch our kids every second of every day and we have to entertain them and coddle them. This is Africa, grow up and live. On a side note a young girl in the next village was killed by a crocodile a few weeks ago.

I have been on the lookout for bananas, eggs and honey. I was told by my language teacher that I have to  try a drink called Honey beer, that they are making now from honey that they are harvesting. It's made in huge vats from water, bee larvae and honey. It's fermented for 17 hours then drunk.

I did find a farm to sell me banana a huge bunch that I shared with my family and I biked to the tarmac about 9km to buy eggs, I got them all home in one piece in my backpack.

I like to go to the Tarmac, that is where there are shops and other interesting places. The people there know who I am and my name, being the only white person around makes me a known topic of conversation! One of the best things are the shops and the signs. A shop can be a few sticks with back plastic wrapped around them to make a shelter. I have seen signs that say 'potential bus stop' that is it, just a sign, no building, maybe some day there will be a building. Or 'chicken shop, we have chickens' just in case you didn't know what they sold. Or my favorite 'this is a shop', plain, simple, on frills needed!

I did make a trip into Mufumbwe on my own last week. I got paid and needed supplies, so I got my brothers to help be fasten a box onto the back of my bike and I started the 15km trek, BTW, have I mentioned lately how much I HATE riding a bike? Fortunately the head master of the school saw me and picked up, so with my bike in the back of his truck, I rode in style. I went to the ATM to get some money and it was broken, I have yet to see one that isn't. While waiting for it to be fixed a had successful conversion in Kikaonde with another woman that was waiting. It was satisfying to know my language has improved. I shopped, ate lunch and visited with the shop clerk there, she was thrilled to talk with me and we asked and answered lots of questions together. I was then ready to head back. I had unfortunately over shot the capacity of my box and had a few things, including a big bowl that I was going to have to carry. So I tried to ride, this not being possible, I got off and pushed my bike thinking it would be a long walk home.  Being hassled by men is a norm. They cat call and come up to touch and talk with you, they won't take no for an answer and when asked leave you alone. You either have to get away or put up with it. And I ran into 3 such lovely men. As they were following me and telling me they wanted me to be their wife, I spotted a Mealy meal truck. This is a big truck loaded with bags of maize meal (mealy meal) there were other women and a few men on the back, so I ran up and asked if I could get a ride. I was told I could for free, but I told them I wanted to pay, it's a haggling technique - to see what they can get from you, I then had to ask one of my followers to help me load my bike, he said he would do it for his new wife...sigh.... finally loaded up we set off down the road. Trying not to fall of the very high stack of bags, I visited with the women and enjoyed the ride. When they let me off close to Kowama, I asked how much and the driver told me 20 kawcha, I thought this sounded fair, especially compared to walking. But the women started yelling no, no, only 10K for a ride from Mufumbwe to Kowama, so the driver had to give me back part of my money. It's good to make friends.

On the subject of the women, or BaMayos (lots of mamas) they are so tough! They do so much work, take care of the children and fields. They are the first up in the morning and the last in bed at nights. Each morning I go to my family's to get coals for my fire, my brother or I use corncobs or sticks to get the hot coals out of the flames to put in my pan. But if my Bamama or another BaMayo is there they will move us over, reach in the fire with their bare hand, pick up the red hot coals and put them in the pan, brush off their hand on their skirt and go back to what they were doing. I see this everyday and know this will not be something that even after 2 yrs. I will be able to do. I have also decided that there is only one fire made in all of Zambia everyday. Each BaMama goes to the closest house to fire each morning, so somewhere someone starts only one fire and they all share!

Nights here are quiet, monkeys, birds, bugs are the only sounds I am used to. I had a very odd experience one night; I'm in my bed reading and I hear a siren of a police or ambulance go by, at first I can't figure out what the sound is, then I recognize it, then it doesn't make sense, and I realize where I am and why it doesn't make sense. Sirens are not something you hear here. It took me a few minutes to process it all and have it make sense why it was so strange. I found out the next morning that is was in fact an ambulance and it was the talk of the village!

Families here live on compounds, a few houses together where all the family lives and grows to more house. You can tell how long a family has been there by how high the fruit trees are. A fun fact in Mozambique after their civil war, the people that had been displaced wanted to go back to their homes and with no government help they depended on the tribal leaders for this and in only 2 years they were all able to move back to their own compounds. It very tribal to live in the same place your whole life. There are abandoned house and compounds. If you look at them, one of the houses will have no door, that means that someone died in that house and they take the door so the spirit of that person can escape and they all leave and move somewhere else. And no one moves in, but I think after the houses have fallen down, it's set up as new land and they start over.  To get land to build on they have to petition the head master for a plot and they start over. Many families have huge compounds with lots of land, if they have lived in that area for a long time.

Here people are who they are by the tribe they belong to. When trying to explain that my family had come from England, Scotland, Sweden, it was finally easier to say those were tribes than countries and they we claim them all. I had a friend in training that is Chinese, grew up in Australia and his family moved to the US and become citizens. This was way too much for them to comprehend, so he gave up and just told them he was Chinese.  

There are 8 churches in Kowama, I have been to two. I live across the street from a church and hear them at choir practice which is during lunch time a few times a week, so I have learned a couple of the songs and when they were sung during the service at my family's church, my BaMama was very please with me, that I knew the songs.Last week I went to the one my family goes to. I got to see my BaMama sing in the choir, she was smiling and very happy, I don't usually get to see her like that so it was nice. The Bible is in Kikaonde and is passed around to the men that can read, to read from it. I got there too early so I sat in on the children's class, the BaMayos  thought this was funny when they found out. The Bible verse was one on how woman should obey their husbands and never question them, and that is also what they preached on during church. I will say no more! The week before I went to a different church and they sang How Great Thou Art in Kikaonde, that was fun to listen to.

I have so many pictures to share. I will be going to Slowezi in June to a Provincial meeting with all the other PCVs  I will hopefully be able to share WiFi time with the group to upload them to share.

I was able to see get a picture of my family. My BaTata was happy to have them all dress up and let me take it, all but the 2 were there. When you are a kid and you get all dressed up for a picture or you are in your good clothes, your mom makes you sit and not move, so you don't get messed up. Well, in Zambia, what is a mom to do, when all the world is DIRT??? The kids were all dressed and made to stand in a corner and if they started to move my BaMama would ah ah ah at them and they went back to the corner! Mamas are mamas everywhere!

Another interesting thing about babies is the way the BaMamas dress them. The older kids run around in anything. But babies, are dressed up! First they are babies they are dressed in hats, shirts, pants, sweaters, jackets, socks, shoes, gloves then swaddled. I think they would be hot, but they don't sweat or seem hot. Then when thy are between 1 and 2 they are dressed in cute little dresses or sailor suites. They are spoiled with clothes.

I have found a place about a 30 minutes walk from my house that is a huge old tree, not sure what kind yet, but is so very big and it just thrums with life. At that tree, I am able to get enough cell service to check email and sometimes see a snapchat, instagram or facebook! I love that tree! I usually climb up in it and hide from men that us the path by it, so I can do this in peace. I also really hope this is not an ancestor tree that is forbidden to be climbed!

More will be posted in June, stay tuned!