The Recovery Process

Wow, when I joked that I could now say I know what it feels like to be run over by a truck I didn’t fully appreciate the process involved in getting over being a poor substitute for tarmac. It’s been a long five weeks and I’m very happy to report that my mobility is much better than I expected. I get the official “ok” to get off my crutches on Monday, but I’m already shuffling around the house in short spurts in happy anticipation of that day. Unfortunately, I’ve developed some other post-trauma symptoms that have knocked the wind out of me and have left me feeling at times exhausted, discouraged, and frustrated. My brain is reluctantly putting all the pieces together and I’m trying to make this experience an opportunity to face my fears, develop my faith, and focus on where my life will take me after this hiccough.

I haven’t really felt up to rewriting my experiences of that day, but I think a journal entry of the experience might do. I appreciate all the emails, calls, and well-wishes from across the globe. I am responding as quickly as I can but was not able to sit upright in a chair for longer than a few minutes until just recently.

Journal Entry from 10/22/07

I have been in bed for nearly 48 hours and I’m ready to get out of bed! The pain meds seriously knock me out and I slept all morning. The nurses here are very kind but it’s frustrating that I have no contact with the people I love. It’s 6:00 p.m. right now and the highlight of the day was seeing Dr. Cedric the Peace Corps Medivac Dr. He brought another volunteer with him who of course had no idea why I was in the hospital as confidentiality is a huge part of PC medical protocol. While I completely support this perspective, I feel like I fell of the face of the earth.

So I will recount what happened while fresh in my memory, but don’t really want to fall into the trap of reliving the whole thing in its frightening possibilities of what could have happened.

Saturday I traveled down with a group from Peace Corps to Ndola where we dropped off a Peace Corps program director who was flying down to Lusaka after visiting the Northwestern Province. Three of us were dropped off a few minutes later at the roadside to find transportation on to our destinations: Tams and Jess going to Lusaka and I on my way to Mkushi to spend an evening with a friend and then on to Mpika for our RED Boma Volunteer workshop. Not two minutes after being dropped roadside a white truck pulled over to pick us up but pulled too far down the road and came back for us. In changing lanes he didn’t see another car coming in the other lane and collided with it—veering off course and into us. Tams and Jess were able to jump the fence, but I wasn’t so quick. The truck hit me in the back knocking me on to my side and then proceeded to run over my hips and calves.

I lay in the grass for more than an hour and did my portion of silent prayer and not-so-silent prayer! I was terrified of internal injuries, but Jess and Tams were there to comfort me and keep me calm. The Peace Corps vehicle had turned around and was back with me in five minutes so I was surrounded by lots of love and support. Jess held my hand the whole time and I remember that the touch of my friends made me feel more alive and less panicked. I was able to call my family and ask for their prayers while I waited for the ambulance. I felt a strong peace that day in a way that I have never felt before in my life.

Once the ambulance arrived the EMTs initially thought I only had bruising, but when I couldn’t stand up had me taken to Lusaka where they discovered at the hospital that I had multiple pelvic fractures. 24 hours later I was on another plane to South Africa to the #1 trauma hospital in sub-Saharan Africa. I’m still not sure I can wrap my mind around the surreal nature of this accident, but I am so thankful that I am alive and will recover soon.

Those thoughts straight from the hospital bed! There have been good days and bad days but I have faith that the bad days will soon be a distant memory. Thanks to everyone for their constant love and support and all the prayer that has gone up for me in the last several weeks. I will write again as soon as I have more to say!

Home for the Holidays

Well, I can at least say now that I really do know what it feels like to be run over by a truck.

If you haven't already heard, I was in a car accident in Zambia two weeks ago and was air-lifted to South Africa for medical help. I've been pretty much out of communication with everyone both in the US and Zambia except immediate family and have just now had a chance to check in to email. Thank you so much to everyone who has attempted to contact me in the past couple of weeks!

I will write a much longer blog entry about this later, but here are the basic details. I was released from the hospital yesterday with multiple pelvic fractures. I'm hobbling about (poorly!) on one leg and working on getting clean from all the medications I've had to take. I'm incredibly thankful to be walking around after such an accident (details will follow later) and I'm trying to just take it easy, which is quite frustrating.

On Wednesday, I will be returning to Colorado for the next couple of months to heal. I'll be staying at my folks' home where they will be waiting on me hand and foot--at least for a few days:) They have moved, so I don't have their contact information on hand. The best way to reach me is through email. Unfortunately, my cell phone was jacked from the site of the accident so all of my contact information is either on that phone or in my hut in Mufumbwe, so don't be alarmed if you haven't heard from me personally.

Thanks to everyone for your prayers and concern and keep me in your thoughts as I make the long trip home in a couple of days.

Lots of love,
Stacey J.

Cindy Crawford Sips Turkish Coffee

The last week has been a blur, probably because I was sick for most of it. This was disappointing because I had only 10 days this month to do all the work that had piled up on me while I was away in Lusaka to get a filling fixed (extended by a quick mini-break to Luapula). I’m recovering nicely after some serious caretaking by incredibly kind American (Nebraskan) missionaries who stay 8k down the road from me, but I’m still quite tired and on my way out on another adventure. This week I’m traveling to Northern Province for a project related workshop and will then spend the weekend at Lake Tanganyika with a few PCVs.

In my last blog I talked about procrastinating my trip home. I felt too tired to have the same conversation I have with nearly every wonderful person who picks me up off the side of the road and offers free transportation in exchange for a pleasant chit chat, yet was unwilling to pay the high fee to take a miserably packed and horribly heated bus ride. Thus, I didn’t make it to the edge of town until mid afternoon—a bit late for traffic headed my direction. Fortunately, a dear friend and fellow PCV lives on the road about half way home so I knew that in an emergency I can always crash at his ‘bachelor pad’—a very artistic studio version of the standard mud hut. The first two legs of the trip were really uneventful as passers by allowed me to share car space with them, but I started my Alice in Wonderland journey into stardom as the sun started to hang low and I flagged down a road construction big rig.

A few weeks ago a wonderfully jolly man from Serbia who helps manage a road crew laying tarmac from Solwezi to Mufumbwe offered us a ride half way to Solwezi and we chatted about all the cultural challenges we face in Zambia. (By the way, road work in Mufumbwe may be the greatest news ever. I will have a solid paved road to my house in January!!!Tra la la la la! Oh cycling bliss!) Although he is a solid forty years my senior, I decided immediately he would be a friend because of his great laugh. The big rig I flagged down on this particular afternoon was part of his company and was traveling to their camp, half way home for me. After dropping my new Serbian friend’s name and looking very forlorn and foreign, the driver agreed to smash me into a seat with another chatty fellow and a young woman holding the most terrified 6 month old baby I’ve ever seen. He was so round I couldn’t resist trying to touch him, but any time I looked his direction he wailed about the monster.

It was obvious that I would never find transport all the way home that evening, so the big rig agreed to take me to my friend’s house to check and make sure I could crash there and then take me to the camp and find out if any of the other managers would drive to Mufumbwe the next morning. As we pulled into D’s ‘driveway’ I hopped out to affirm I could stay and after a few minutes discussion walked back to discover that about fifty people were actually on the back of the big rig patiently waiting for me to take care of my business. They cheered a little for me on my return. I felt like royalty—not in the Princess Di way of being altruistic and adored, but more in the Paris Hilton way of being fatuously self-centered and watched.

We rolled into the camp and I was led to a large picnic table where a lively conversation came to a truly abrupt stop. 10 Serbian men put down dainty little tea cups and stared for a horrid minute when I felt sure I had trespassed something sacred. Fortunately, my Serbian friend remembered me and came and introduced me to the rest of the crew and brought me out the best cup of Turkish coffee (with milk and sugar!) I’ve ever tasted. After an awkward ten minutes of sipping coffee at a silent table, he assured me that he and his crew would help me with transport any time I needed and then he went out to his truck and gave me my own special Turkish coffee grounds that he had bought for the next time he saw me waving pathetically for a ride. (Aside: The instructions are in Arabic, so I’m currently guessing on the water/coffee ratio and cooking time when I’m at site. My neighbor Kevin and I often split this responsibility so as to halve the blame if its dreadful. We are, however, both so starved for coffee that it doesn’t seem to really matter how it turns out even if it looks and tastes like proper silt).

I realize now that the silence at the table was primarily due to language barrier and shock at my sudden appearance. (I sometimes forget that Mufumbwe really is pretty bush.) The next morning one of the crew faithfully picked me up and gave me cough drops for a slight cold I picked up in Luapula—I must have coughed a few times the day before. As we toured the road crew sites dropping items at each point until we reached the boma, I was greeted with fabulous smiles and soft drinks and sweeties. My new friend said, “Well, we never see white women here. Its a holiday.” I want a banner: Frizzy Haired Champion of Prairie Chic turns Supermodel. Bizarre.

Things turned sour when I reached home and began sleeping 20 out of 24 hours a day and every muscle in my body thought it had run a marathon or two. Fortunately, after lots of TLC I am prepared to take on the next surreal adventure.

Thanks to everyone who continues to send letters and packages. 9 months (and 200 days at site!) into service its great to know that the connections to home are still strong. I love and miss you all.

Lacking Time to Blog

My trip to Lusaka was quite a blur and ended in an impromptu trip to visit Luapula, another province in Zambia, with some Peace Corps friends. I returned yesterday to Solwezi, slept for 12 hours last night, and am now procrastinating my way back to the bus station to try and find transport back to Mufumbwe. The next two weeks are huge for me. I have lots of work to do, lots of meetings to attend, and a lot of planning to stress over. I hope to get back with all of you on my wanderings soon (even "soon soon" in Zam slang).

In brief, I had a chance this week to unabashedly sing my little heart out, which my friends were kind enough to allow, play in a beautiful lake that I could almost imagine was the ocean, and spend quality down time with other volunteers. I've been a bit of a gad about so far in my service, but it's great to have the chance to see so much and spend time with so many fabulous people.

My teeth are FIXED and I should not have to deal with the dentist again for a long while. Thank heavens.

I'm still experiencing large swings of homesickness that seems promoted by hanging out with people who are finishing up their service. I think it will be good for me to get back into the village, get my brain occupied with service, and refocus for a few weeks. Had a fabulous mini-break--again!--and now it's back to work. I will try and spend some time writing a blog over the next 14 days and just post it here on my way back through to a training on the 19th.

All of my love with you.

My House is a Very Fine House

With a cat in the yard, a freshly thatched roof, a newly cemented floor, and an extra room! I’ve spent the last month focusing on getting my house in order before the rainy season begins. With help from my fabulous neighbor Moses, the house was complete before the very first rain last week (which I got caught in during a ride to the post office). I’m now in Solwezi for a few days for meetings and then head to Lusaka for a dental appointment. I’ll have access to fast inexpensive internet at that time, so keep your eye out for a longer post.

Friends and Family: I’m at the house, so if you have a chance to call, I would really love to hear from you.

Stacey J.

Teeth like Melon Seeds

I’ve been procrastinating writing this blog entry for most of the week. Not because I don’t want to describe Camp Glow Mwinilunga, but because I feel daunted by my inability to really show you how it felt, what it looked like, and the sense of accomplishment we took from the week.

Two second year Peace Corps volunteers in the health program coordinated the camp and recruited eight other volunteers in our province from the education, fishery, and HIV/AIDS programs to assist in facilitating the sessions and acting as mentors and supervisors. It was a tremendous opportunity to see my friends, people I see socially at the house, people I recognize coming off of transport covered in dust and spend time with making group dinners, rock it in their areas of expertise. My colleagues are talented, intelligent, articulate, passionate young adults with tremendous drive and compassion. I came away seriously impressed with the caliber of my fellow volunteers and a huge respect for the two ladies who put the camp together.

Those of us from outside the Mwinilunga district met in Solwezi last Friday. All the volunteers from Mufumbwe and Kasempa have to take a day to travel from the Southwestern area of our province north into the provincial center and then take a bus out to Mwinilunga, a sleepy little boma in the far Northwestern corner of Zambia sandwiched between Angola and the DRC. Heather and I were very fortunate to find transport into Solwezi with a man from China who manages one of the road crews west of Mufumbwe. We spent our four hour journey learning a bit of Mandarin and enjoying cross cultural stories.

Left the next morning on the most cramped and precariously packed coach bus I’ve ever seen—and I’ve seen a lot of squished transport in the last seven months. I sat in a three person seat with two adults and two kiddos. In true Zam fashion, the mother in my row handed me a leggy six year old when I took a seat. She perched on my lap for the next couple of hours and played with my watch. The other volunteers fared worse, and spend the trip balancing on bags or possessively hanging on to two or three inches of seat space. Part of the luggage area was coming loose and had to be tied up for the five hour journey—we all believed we would eventually lose our bags somewhere on the road, but thanks to ingenious rope tying, we managed to keep everything and everyone in the bus all the way to Regina’s site, the home of one of our coordinators.

We stayed the night at her site before moving on to the Bible school where the camp was located. The family who lives next to Regina had a son coming back from a month in the bush completing a circumcision ritual. We were treated to an entire night of drumming, singing, and yelling right outside the walls. The community was in high spirits and while it was lovely music, none of us got any sleep at all and periodically made comments like, “unblievable, it’s 4:00 a.m. and they’ve not taken a break.”

We made our way the next morning to the Bible college facilities, a beautiful campus in the middle of nowhere. Built by the Brits several decades ago, it’s a haven of brick, hydro power, and scenery. The facilitators’ chalet had bedrooms with proper beds and sheets—ahh, such luxury! After organizing the week, we had a decent night’s sleep and waited for the girls to arrive.

26 young ladies from Grade 10 and 12 in high school from the Mwinilunga boma were selected by their leadership qualities and academic achievement and invited to spend a week with us talking about career choices, HIV/AIDS prevention and care, and general social empowerment. On the final day I led a session on Sexual Assault, a session that was in turns intense, enlightening, and extremely emotional for both me and the girls. In a country that routinely sees young ladies leave school because of pregnancy, often because of relationships with their teachers, discussions about sugar daddies and sex assault are highly charged and difficult since there is currently little reliable infrastructure for protecting the young ladies if they encounter pressure from men in positions of leadership. I had goosebumps listening to the girls shout “No means NO!” using strong voices and arms lifted in protest. I walked away from my time with them on this topic passionately convinced of the necessity for education, awareness, and empowerment and humbled by the courage and strength of these young women who jump so many hurdles to complete their education.

It was also really cool to have three amazing male volunteers with us for the week. It worked well to model men and women working together as equals: colleagues and friends striving for common goals without any power struggle. These guys are dedicated to seeing development for everyone and the girls responded well to the attention. It was also really great for them to see men attentive to their concerns without any ulterior motives.

We were divided into teams of six or seven. I co-led a group of six with Bob, a HIV/AIDS volunteer who came late in the week. Our group called themselves “The Real Girls,” and we competed throughout the week with other teams (Mazo, Champions, Angels, and Impalas) to gain points through participation and competition. These girls were fabulous encouragements to me—so full of energy, so smart, and so committed to developing their own lives. We sang songs, danced dances, played hard, talked deeply, and laughed loudly.

During relay night, my girls fought hard to gain some points against the other teams, but the American facilitators learned a cultural lesson that night. Zambians don’t queue well, a source of constant frustration at the bus station and Shop-Rite, and this lack of queuing goes extremely awry in the case of relays. Our girls were in and out of lines, cheating, screaming, taking several turns or none at all, ending in massive hilarity and confusion. My girls, who were losing spectacularly, evidently misunderstood the idea of a relay so much that they confronted me at the end of the night extremely upset that “they had won every event and not gotten one point!” I have great photos of faces full of mealy meal, drenched facilitators from the “fill up a water jug resting on a facilitator’s forehead” game (Team RG had great aim, thankfully), and pandemonium.

We talked a lot about empowering others as a way to see success for all. In Zambia, just as in the states (and probably everywhere else), a culture of jealousy for the successful is deeply embedded in personal interaction. Some people are extremely afraid of success because jealousy can ruin their lives (ask me another day about “flying” coffins in the village). After talking about this for a week, we had an exercise called “pat on the back” where we placed pieces of paper on our backs and wrote nice things about others on their backs. The girls were asked to take to papers off their backs, stand up and say “I am…(insert compliment)” with confidence in front of the whole group. I got to say, “I am a wonderful baby.” (J) I have never seen more gleaming smiles in my life. Everyone walked just a little taller that day, and hey, I wanted to run home and post my “pat on the back” on a fridge!

The day transport came for us we piled in the back of an open bed truck and the girls broke into a song dedicated to each of us. I choked up.

Unfortunately, we must have had some sketchy water or food because I’ve been dealing with a stomach bug ever since and spent the last week in Lusaka recovering. I did have a chance to spend time with other volunteers I didn’t’ really know before and had a blast making new friends. I also received the oddest “pat on the back” ever when a coworker of a new friend said I have “teeth like melon seeds.” It was meant as a compliment and I’m sure it’s one I won’t soon forget.

I’m finally back in Solwezi and will leave for Mufumbwe on Monday. I’m getting a ride with Peace Corps since we are having a village goodbye for one of my nearest neighbors, Matt, who is finishing his service. The revolving door of Peace Corps volunteers can be really challenging emotionally—especially if you’re like me and become attached to people quickly--but it is really great to have the chance to meet so many amazing people, and I now have two new neighbors in the Mufumbwe district.

I’m looking forward to spending a good amount of time at home. I start teaching on Tuesday afternoon, my Girls Club begins this week, and my house extension should be mostly finished when I return. And I should have a thatched roof all set for the start of hot season. I’m also really looking forward to reading the 7th Harry Potter novel and cuddling with my kitty!

I’ll write again at the end of September when we come in again for our provincial meetings. All my love to everyone.

Camp Glow and Christmas Offers

Hello to all! I have been a bit out of touch with most of you recently because I’ve been wandering around Zambia and on the road for the better part of the last six weeks. I made it to my village for four whole days—enough time to cycle 115 k to check out a possible new Peace Corps site and collect my mail—and then turned around and traveled back out to the Northwest corner of the country to help facilitate Camp Glow (Girls Leading Our World) in Mwinilunga. The camp was extremely successful, but after drinking marginal water for a few days and eating rotten nshima, I’ve had stomach trouble and am now back in Lusaka waiting for a dental appointment this afternoon and for blood test results to return so I can finally go home.

I’m hoping to get to my hut by the end of this week and start getting some work done and enjoying the pace of the village! I’m also really looking forward to starting my Life Skills course with the adult school in Mufumbwe and beginning a girls club next week. I have only a few minutes to jot down my thoughts before I leave for the butcher’s chair. I’ll try to share more detailed information about the camp before I leave Lusaka (and free internet access!:)

On my return to Mufumbwe I was very excited to see that the walls are up for my house extension! (hoorah!) and the poles are in place to get my roof thatched. Also while I was gone my neighbors put together a very sturdy clothesline and a dish drying rack—things I had commented on, but never really asked for. My cat was traumatized by my disappearance for several weeks and had just decided that we were friends again by the end of my four days when I left again for Solwezi. I hate leaving her, which seems silly since she is just a pet, but I become quite dependent on the kitty for company when I’m spending long nights holed up inside my mud walls.

Caitlin, a friend from our intake group, has had to switch sites because the community at her first site placement was not really in the position to host a Peace Corps volunteer. So we’re hoping to add her to our district team. This is great news—I love PC collaboration! While at home we were told of a potential community about 40 k from my neighbor Heather and so the three of us decided to take a day and cycle to the potential site to scope out the possibilities.

115 k and 12 hours later, we learned once again that bush paths and Zam directions are not always reliable! Unable to make it all the way back to my house, we rolled into another Peace Corps neighbor’s yard after dark and crashed out on his floor. If someone had told me in the states that I would have to cycle 70 miles in one day with only a sandwich and some granola bars for sustenance, I would never have believed them. I still have a hard time believing it. But since there were no other options, we did what we had to do. The site itself was not worth the effort, but wow, I felt like a cycling Rock Star!

So even though I can’t wait to finally get home and get settled back in, we are already talking here about vacation plans for Christmas! Most of us take a lot of time off in December since it is the rainy season and projects get stalled. Rather than sitting home and agonizing about missing our family and friends for the holiday, many of us take a break. I was discussing options with some friends: go to Namibia? Malawi? Tanzania? During this discussion, a friend of mine from here mentioned she is going to Israel over Christmas for a wedding and invited me to come along with her!! This is such an amazing opportunity, and while quite expensive, would be truly once-in-a-lifetime since I would be traveling with someone who has spend a lot of time in Israel and has community ties, a working knowledge of languages used, and... hey, I could be in Bethlehem for Christmas!! It’s going to take a financial miracle, but my coming to Zambia was a financial miracle, so anything can happen!

I will write tomorrow and fill everyone in on the fabulousity of Camp Glow. My love to everyone! I promise to catch up on letters once I get home. Miss you all.

The Rest of the Story

Writing from yet another backpacking lodge in Livingstone!

The medical staff at Peace Corps were concerned about my foot and insisted that I rest up for a few days, so they booked me at a guest house near the Lusaka office. I was thrilled to discover that this lodge not only has hot showers, but the best Chinese food I've had in six months. (Yes, Peg, it all comes back to food) I wanted more time with friends so I invited a PCV who stays near Lusaka to come be my caretaker for the weekend. This didn't actually work out so well for her since I rapidly recovered and she fell quite ill. (Sorry, Angela!) Afterward, I realize I shouldn't have worried about being alone in Lusaka because this particular guest house is the unofficial Peace Corps hang out and I met many more volunteers as well as family and friends of volunteers. This trip has been a whirlwind of new names, faces, and locations. It's precisely what I needed after long days in my hut keeping myself company during the student protests.

My departure for holiday was delayed until Tuesday morning when medical staff cleared me. By this time, the group I had intended to travel with had already left Lusaka. This is where karma, or "the law of the harvest" as my dad would say, comes in. I have discovered that even though plans rarely ever proceed as scheduled in Zambia, something always works out. On Tuesday I took the bus down to stay with a PCV in my project who lives just a couple of hours outside of Livingstone. (If you come to visit me and want to go to Livingstone, this is the bus to take! We were assigned seats and given Mountain Dew. Luxury.)

I loved my time at this southen province site and it was great to bounce ideas around with a volunteer in RED who has an extra year of experience under her belt. While at her site we met SCORE volunteers from Norway, Namibia, and Zambia and also spent time with a wonderful intern from John Hopkins graduate school who is doing work with an NGO in Lusaka. I was able to get a free ride from Kalomo to Livingstone the next day with the coordinator for SCORE and upon arriving in Livingstone, checked in to a lovely backpackers place and splurged a little on a private room. I didn't realize how much I needed to rest until I checked in and slept for a solid four hours in the middle of the afternoon.

Livingstone is an interesting place--touristy, but still lacking the tourist musts like McDonalds and Starbucks. It's been extremely odd, however, being in a location where I can't even use my stilted local language to get around. I didn't realize how accustomed I've gotten to chit chatting in Ki Kaonde to establish my credibility. Unfortunately, my Tonga is limited to "good morning" and "thank you," but I've had a lot of positive response from just using those two phrases. Also, traveling around Zambia has given me a new perspective on just how rural NW Province and Mufumbwe really are. But that's another story for another blog entry.

I met up with another PCV who is in Livingstone with American friends visiting and shared a lovely time with them at Victoria Falls. The group was here helping with a sports camp for street kids and took some down time to see the sites. We spent yesterday morning together and I watched them plunge over enormous cliffs on a giant gorge swing. I did not take part of the adrenaline activities partially because of financial constraints and partially because of sheer terror. I am waiting for my brother, Jeremy, to come visit and convince me!

I have finally met up with my group today after five days of being a vagabond and just seeing what happens next. It's really quite fun being on vacation without a schedule or a plan or much cash. There's no telling what can happen!

I'm heading back to Lusaka over the weekend to take care of some Peace Corps work, buy needed supplies like face cream, and get a few more wonderful restauarant experiences before I had back to site and buckle down to work.

I have not been good about writing letters in the last month, but I swear I'll be sending out loads of mail in the next few weeks.

Best to you all!
Stacey Jean

Peace Corps Karma

I write this blog from an adorable backpackers lodge in Livingstone, Zambia after a very odd week. After some delays, I’m finally on holiday! I spent all of last week in Lusaka for an in-service training where I had the chance to reconnect with friends from our training group and share ideas with veteran volunteers. After being in “the bush,” I’m on sensory overload and have been pushing my socializing, eating, and activity to the limit.

All of my plans for holiday were disrupted by a foot infection. I once again learned how quickly health concerns can get out of control here! On Monday I pulled out a pair of cute shoes to wear that I don’t get a chance to use in the village assuming, of course, that I wouldn’t be walking any further than to class. After a day of swapping stories, a group of friends and I decided to go out for dinner (which we did ALL week, much to my stomach’s delight) and walk to the road from our training center, about a half a mile, and take a mini bus to the strip mall rather than paying for a taxi to come get us. Unfortunately, I didn’t take into consideration the dust that gets in under the lip of the shoe and can do major damage in no time at all. I rubbed the skin on the top of my foot right off before I even noticed. Normally this situation would be moderately painful, but not really a bother with proper attention. 24 hours later, however, I developed an infection in my foot that has had me limping for the last week. By the time I consulted medical staff, my foot was twice the size it should be and I had to stay in Lusaka for a few extra days on major doses of antibiotics.

There is a queue for this computer so I’m going to sign off for now and complete my story tomorrow and explain the title for this entry.

TBC….

True to form, the first day after completing “community entry,” or the period of time we are asked to observe in our communities and not leave our districts, I was on the back of a lorry traveling the roads of Zambia. We had a few free days to celebrate both Zambian holidays and 4th of July, so I and three friends traveled down to Central Province to hang out with other PCVs from all over the country. I stayed at the Central Province house for a couple of days and then traveled to stay the night with a friend at her house and then decided to go visit a couple more friends at the house in Northern Province. All in all, I traveled half the country in a few days, hitchhiked more than I thought possible in my lifetime, and really enjoyed a nice break. Unfortunately, I will only be back at my site for three days before turning around and coming back to Solwezi for a couple of days and then traveling to Lusaka for our in-service training.

The most interesting, and intimidating, part of the trip was hitching home alone. In order to get home in one day from Northern Province we had to take a very early bus half way and then hitch the rest of the way. Fortunately I also discovered that there are advantages to being female, alone, and American in Zambia. The police worked with me to find me very cheap, safe rides and so the second leg of my three leg trip, I hitched with a South African man in a brand new big rig with hydraulic seats. He fed me crisps and paid for a taxi for me to make a connection.

I also really enjoyed seeing friends from my intake group and allowing my brain some freedom from the responsibilities and concerns of site. I’m adding some comments to the photos my dad added to this album so you can see what I’ve been up to in the past five and half months.

I’ll be back again at the end of the week and hope to have a more entertaining and interesting entry then. This week promises to be busy and eventful!
All my love,
Stacey Jean

Photos, Birthday, and Rioting

Before I begin, let me first give a big thanks to my pops for getting my first Zambia photos uploaded! Please click on the photo log to see the first views of my new home. I have taken more than 100 new pictures and will be sending them home again soon.

Back at the house for the third weekend in a row! Yesterday we left our sites a little earlier than expected because of a major demonstration in Mufumbwe over a power outage in the boma that has lasted more than two weeks. There’s no real cause for concern as I never felt in any danger, but the road between my house and the boma was extremely exciting. I will not go into the politics of the situation, but it was extremely interesting to watch the progress from my tiny town’s student body staging a peaceful demonstration over perceived injustice to an active protest with tree blockades in the road, tear gas, and vandalism. Mufumbwe called in police from three other districts to help contain the activity. Bizarre.

My 28th birthday was Monday and a few Peace Corps friends came by my house to celebrate. A new Zambian friend brought over a huge rooster as my birthday present and pulled me aside to see if I wanted to eat it for dinner. At first I was a little shaken. I had anticipated eating soya piece tacos, but soon enough I found myself with a knife in my hand sawing through a chicken’s jugular. There are moments when I have a feeling of being out of body and wondering who I am! I did actually apologize to the chicken for taking its life and thanked it for letting us eat him before I slit its throat. I’m not sure that helped my emotional state. I did, however, actually help gut, dress, and fix the chicken tacos and I have pictures to prove it. We had a diverse and interesting group for dinner: four Peace Corps volunteer friends, the post man, my friend who goes to the high school, my friend from the water & sanitation department, and a Spanish Father from the Catholic church.

The celebration was great, but I certainly missed my friends and family! I received a birthday package Monday that said “don’t open until June 25th,” and the timing was perfect! I had a present to open by the bonfire!!!

I’ve also had the distinct displeasure of having pig fleas in my feet this week. After making fun of a friend for being “dirty” and digging the nasty things (“jiggers”) out of his feet, I found my own. These nasty things burrow in under the skin and lay eggs. I never knew they were there until I discovered odd blisters that ended up being giant egg sacks. (Sorry if that’s too graphic.) Disgusting. Fortunately, I have been around people who have skillfully dug them out for me.

This week I travel to Central and Northern province to visit friends. I’ll be back next weekend to check in. And I’ll be at the house until tomorrow night if you want to chat!

Lots of love,
Stacey J.

Sun Damage and Shopping

My trip to Solwezi has been relaxing, but much busier than I expected! We are preparing for the next group of volunteers to arrive and have spent the last few days cleaning out the house and organizing. It's amazing just how messy a house can get with 40 individuals using the facilities on a constantly rotating basis. I won't get into the things we found under the beds, but you can well imagine... I've been quite impressed with how everyone pitches in to take care of chores and I really wanted to take photos of the boys doing housework to take back and show my village:)

I also went on a market shopping trip for new clothes since mine are already in a state of abysmal disrepair. I have nary a tshirt without little holes from washing them by hand and everything denim has becomes stretched out and dirt-stained. A friend from this province went with me and we found a couple of decent second-hand tshirts in a store called DAP, a charity store that contributes clothing primarily from Europe and the USA. I was amused to think all you who donate to Goodwill may actually clothe Peace Corps volunteers! I also found a chitenge dress that sort of looks like a 70s mumu and a couple of ridiculous hats to add to the costume pile at the house. I've never worn anything so comfortable as a mumu in my life. It was also very reasonable on the pocket: 25,000 kw or the equivalent of about $6.00 USD.

It's kind of fun to "graduate" from the newest group of intake volunteers to more seasoned volunteers. We get the chance now to brag with the new folks at fly-in a bit about our stories: the snakes, starting fires, cultural mishaps, etc. And now I realize that we do get in the habit of bragging about how hard-core we are when it's amazing just how quickly we can get over a lack of shower or the loss of McDonalds. I certainly complain about it, and I will be absolutely thrilled to come back to comfort, but I don't think about it all the time like I used to in the first few months. I do find, though, that if I'm watching a movie at the house, I get most distracted by seeing American beds. If I see anyone sleeping on a nice bed, I feel absurd jealousy and obsess about it for hours.

We had a mini birthday party for me and my nearest PC neighbor yesterday. He will be turning 26 on Sunday and I will be turning 28 next Monday. I will be back in the village monitoring schools and he will be training new volunteers, so my friends here baked us a cake from scratch and made us giant birthday hats made from poster and toilet paper. I'll upload the photos when I get to Lusaka. Unfortunately, the power has been going on and off all week so they really had to scramble to make the cake one step at a time. We reveled in the cake, even eating the middle portion that had been burned by accidently sitting the pan on a hot burner that was turned on and forgotten during a time of no power.

Zambians do not really celebrate birthdays the way Americans do, so I anticipate kind of a quiet day. My other two PC neighbors are cycling to my house and we are having soya tacos that night. It's been fun telling my counterparts that I'll be 28 this year since they absolutely won't believe it. One fellow observed last week that I look "not older than 12." Ha! This was particularly amusing to me since I've been very concerned about aging lines on my face. I have wrinkles popping out all over the place because I always forget to put on sun screen and now I'm tan and have skin damage. I made a vow for this birthday to daily apply sun screen and take care of my aging face, but completely forgot during the chaos of the morning cleaning binge.

I must leave to pick up my chitenge coulots (never actually spelled that word) and skirt for the village. I've decided biking in a skirt is a complete joke, particularly when it is extremely taboo to even show a shadow of knee and we ride large male mountain bikes. So now I'm going to try wearing chitenge coulots and then tying a chitenge around my waist when I go to meetings.

I will write again either next weekend or the 1st of July. All my love to everyone!

Stacey Jean

Productivity, Puff Adders, and Sticky Fingers

My dear friends and family: I have survived my longest stint in the village so far! After 3 ½ weeks, I have finally gained some ground in my projects and feel like I’m forming relationships with my neighbors and counterparts. We are actually in town sooner than expected because we will be moving around a lot in the next few weeks to take advantage of vacation days and attend an in-service training in Lusaka in mid-July. So, if you would like to call me while I have access to a landline, I will be at the house until Thursday morning.

I will celebrate 5 months in country this week and passed the 70 day mark in the village! These were huge markers for me since I feel like I’ve made it over the initial culture shock! I’m sure there are more uncomfortable moments to come, but it’s nice to say the first huge surprises are over and I’m getting far more comfortable with getting around the markets, transport, and conversations. Plus, I finally received parcels in Mufumbwe! Apparently the parcels truck had not made any trips up to town recently, so I received FOUR packages in one day. It was like Christmas and I've been pigging out on American junk food ever since. I've probably gained 5 lbs just this week! Big shout out to my mom, Peg, Andrea, Sis. Bass, and the gang from M&M. Seriously, I never knew dehydrated food packets and granola bars could taste so amazing!

I have lots of stories to write, and will try to do as much blogging as I can while I’m in town. For now, I’ll offer up the highlights.

First, I’m very excited about potential projects in the near future. I’ve been attending some teacher training workshops in the past few weeks and working closely with the schools in my zone and the administration on “school monitoring.” This is essentially evaluating how current curriculum is being administered, how the teachers are functioning in their classes, how effective Ministry of Education programs are at the school level, and also reporting on the state of facilities. I’m working hand-in-hand with the administration to create a streamlined monitoring form and process so that each school is monitored objectively and equitably.

I’ve also been working with an adult school very close to my house. It’s a private school that works most closely with women who have had to quit school for one reason or another and want to return to complete their education. Starting August, I will be helping them with a Life Skills and Adult Literacy program. They have almost 100 motivated men and women who attend classes every day during the afternoon. I’m so impressed with this group of community members who see the value of education and are working diligently to increase their capacity for providing for themselves and their family. I’m also working with a small group of girls in their mid-teens in an HIV/AIDS awareness and life skills program. It’s my hope to work with this small group intensively in the next few months and then establish a peer mentoring program so that these young women can work with other young women in a “straight talk” format that may not be comfortable for older teachers.

In other news, my phone went missing this week. So, if you’ve been attempting to send an SMS, no luck! I was able to get another phone this weekend and will have my old number programmed in on Monday. I’m learning to be more attentive to my things since in just this past week I've had a disposable camera nabbed out of my backpack and 50,000 kw taken from out of my wallet while I was on transport. I’ve had no problem with theft until just recently, but I think I’ve also been a bit less vigilant than I was the first few months.

Finally, in the big news for the past few weeks, I saw my first scary snake! I was home briefly one afternoon for dinner and while I was inside my house munching on amazing pasta, I saw my neighbor fly by my door gripping a giant pole in his hands. I walked outside in time to watch him bash a 2-3’ puff adder to death. My kitty Mio saved the day! My neighbor saw the cat stalking something moving in my yard and came over to check in and noticed the snake. I took a photo of the snake and took it with me on a visit I paid to missionaries near my house and we confirmed in the Africa Snake Book the type of snake. One of the missarionaries, a nurse, let me know that puff adders are quite poisonous, but are very slow and I shouldn’t really worry about them. So, now that I’ve gotten that first encounter out of the way, something I had been very concerned about, I feel a little more at ease with the knowledge of snakes in my area. I actually even felt a little bad for the snake—he never had a chance.

I’ll be back later in the week! Hope all is well with all of you.
Stacey J.

Calling Me & Transport

Hello all!

I have not been at the internet as much or as often as I anticipated this week. This has been mostly because I've been at the house on the phone a lot with all my friends and family back in the states and also with fellow PCVs talking about our upcoming vacation to Livingstone in July after a week of training in Lusaka. We discovered a great web site, www.zprepaid.com, which allows my friends to chat with me in Zambia for .10 or less per minute. I spent nearly all day Saturday chatting with one or the other of my family members and getting caught up with all the happenings at home. These conversations alone have picked me up and helped me focus on an exciting four weeks in my village. If you are interested in chatting with me, you can contact my mom at rfjbosslady@hotmail.com for the telephone numbers where you can reach me here as I'm not comfortable posting it online.

This blog update will have to be quite quick because I have to go to the grocery store and stock up on necessities like powdered milk, cereal, and sponges for my next stint mu muzhi (in village). We are catching transport back to site tomorrow and I will spend the longest uninterrupted period of time alone in my hut since arriving. I'll be back at the provincial house from June 21-June 26 to renew my visa again and to celebrate my 28th birthday! It's incredibly hard to believe that a whole year has passed since my birthday in the Fort Collins condo.

I'm not necessarily looking forward to getting transport again. Transport has been one of the single most frustrating aspects of living in Zambia as it's not at all reliable or consistant. Last week my PCV neighbor and I went to Kasempa to visit our fellow PCV for her birthday. Her location is very close to ours, but requires a round-about trip by road to get there. We had very little trouble hitching up to her site, but on the return I wore out my shoes walking 25 k from her house to town and then spent several more hours in a mini-bus with twenty other people and then in an oil rig, which was so tall that we had to climb a ladder to get in the cab.

My grocery shopping buddy has arrived, so I must be off. Some of you have asked what I am needing at site, and in brief, I have all the necessities. I'm always short on batteries and have the most need of AA batteries. Any luxury items are fabulous! Magazines, stationary, dried foods, snacks, anything that smells pretty, spices, funny articles. I have SO appreciated everything I have received and experienced so much serendipity with receiving exactly what I need when I need it: like a potato peeler the day after I realized I really needed one!

All my love to you and will write more again soon.

SJJ

Monkeys, Mio, and Getting Through the First Month

I am back at the provincial house for our Peace Corps NW province meeting this weekend and will stay through the first part of next week in order to renew our visas. Our work permits should come in soon, but for now we continue making trips every four weeks into the capital for visa extensions. My last two weeks have been challenging and extremely busy. I’ve been much more “movious” (a slang word the villagers use to describe our frequent trips) than I anticipated, but I’m starting to get a better scope of the enormous amount of work there is to be done in my area. (More on this later in the week.)

I’m also really starting to settle in. The first day I arrived back at site, I biked 66k round trip to go pick up a kitty and bring her back to my house. I needed to install a mouse avenger in my hut to exterminate the family that had settled in nest inside my wall. Her all out war against the rodents was pretty disgusting—the carnage was splattered in clumps on my floor—but now I’m much less bothered by the pattering of feet and the clanking of my things in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, she is not as excited about chasing frogs and a family of frogs has moved into the space the mice once occupied. The frogs, however, are not as likely to destroy my belongings, so even though I sometimes feel like I’m experiencing a plague of Biblical proportions, I am not so afraid of shredded clothes and papers. Now if I could only find a way to destroy the termites who like to tunnel my walls and my wooden porta-potty seat in the latrine, I’d be living in a bwana house!

The cat and I are excellent companions. I named her “Mio,” which is short for “Hermione” since I’ve undertaken a reread of the Harry Potter novels before the next book comes out in July. She’s a bit temperamental, incredibly brave at chasing things a hundred times her size, and an affection hog, but I like being a bit more focused on taking care of someone/something else when I’m feeling lonely rather than just sitting in my house after dark thinking.

Because having too much time alone to think can end up being really depressing.

The kids who live around my house are equally scared and fascinated by the cat. They will scream and run if she tries to rub up against them for a good petting. It’s interesting to me that the children are picking up English faster than I am Ki Kaonde just by listening to me talk to the cat or to myself for that matter. The other day when one of the little girls had flown half way across the yard screaming after Mio surprised her under her stool, the kids took up the chant, “Iz ok. Iz ok. Keety, Keety, Keety.” I hadn’t even realized that I say this every time the kids and the cats encounter one another as I try to reassure the children while chasing the startled cat around the yard. If the cat doesn't come home by dark, the kids will scatter around the village howling "Mio, Mio, Mio, here keety." One of the littlest girls gets confused and will call "kissemee, kissemee," which is the Ki Kaonde word for "family."

In the past two weeks, I’ve ended up with small dinner guests frequently. I have to be very cautious about the exchange of goods with my villagers as I live on a very low income and want to establish a firm precedent that I'm not a bank or an NGO in myself, but since I always cook far more than I can eat myself, and the kids near my house are often hungry, I share my meals with whoever might be in my yard. I have no way to refrigerate left-overs and I can’t leave much out without attracting an enormous amount of ants. The kiddos absolutely love pancakes and so I’ve started making every kind of pancake I can think of on the brazier. Potato pancakes, oatmeal pancakes, banana pancakes, and standard breakfast pancakes. They are also huge fans of cinnamon oatmeal and creamed greens, which I eat a lot. In fact, I think more about nutrition when I'm feeding them because I know how desperately they need the nutrients. The family I live near have started including me on their harvest give-aways in return and I’ve received lots of ground nuts (peanuts), eggs, cooked pumpkin, a whole pumpkin, and sweet potatoes. It’s great. I really dislike cooking for myself and this has given me a way to connect with my adopted family.

My favorite story from the past two weeks also has to do with food. My friend Heather was cycling to visit me and stopped off to buy some bananas on the side of the road. The kids selling the bananas also had a little monkey they offered to sell her for ten pin (roughly $2.50). Heather was really intrigued by the offer, because who gets offered a monkey these days? She tried to ask the children what the monkey ate, but in the language confusion she realized the kids were telling her what she could eat as relish with the monkey. Heather finally refused the offer knowing that the animal could carry disease and might eat her cat—my cat’s neurotic sister—and she would not be able to properly care for it. Still, she finally saw wildlife in her area!

I have much more to write, but I want to attempt to get back to the provincial house fairly early this morning in order to assist with the great Cleaning Effort all the volunteers are undertaking today. Sharing one average sized house with forty people can be challanging and messy! I will probably be checking mail daily until Wednesday and am available on the land line at the house if you have gotten a calling card for Zambia.

I miss you all and think of you often!

Going Back Into the Bush

It’s been wonderful to recuperate from the adjustment period I’ve been going through in my village, but now I’m feeling refreshed and ready to get back and start working!

Today I want to write a bit more about what I’m learning in my little home about myself and about Zambian culture.

First, I am learning just how important holding on to local languages is to the communities who speak them. One of the other PCVs said that there are less than 50,000 people in the world who speak Ki Kaonde as their first language. Even though English is the Zambian national language, it seems equally important to my neighbors to be faithful to the language of their tribe as it is to be able to communicate with other neighbors in the official national language. Most Zambians work around the tribal language barriers by learning multiple languages from a very young age. Most of my neighbors speak three, four, or five local languages and they freely mingle them. This makes it extremely difficult for them to understand why I have such trouble learning only one additional language—and it’s easy for me get confused when I’m hearing hybridized languages constantly. They tell me that it’s easy, that I’ll pick it up, that I’ll be conversant in just a few months. Unfortunately, I feel ridiculously slow and I spend most of my time saying in Kaonde, “I am learning Ki Kaonde, but just now I don’t speak it well, so please speak slowly.” And then I’m forced to switch into English.

For the most part, it is men who are educated and fluent in English, so I spend much of my time chatting with educated men, fielding proposals, and convincing my community that I don’t have a lot of money to give them for development. I’m not sure I’ll ever be accustomed to riding my bike and hearing people greet me from the road, “Hello, my future wife!” It sounds like it would be flattering, but instead it makes me feel awkward, uncomfortable, and irritated. I often want to stop and say back, “You don’t know me. You don’t even know my name. Why in the world would you want to marry me?”

Because this is the key: Gender roles are incredibly defined in rural Zambian, and the women are rock stars! They are unbelievably strong! I have seen the women carry their weight in goods on their heads. The women work the fields, raise the children, take care of the household, run shops, and generally keep processes running smoothly. I want to say, “But me. This one, she does not like to clean, or cook, does not know how to farm, cannot lift 50 kgs of water on her head, does not want to raise a handful of children, is short tempered, obstinate, expects respect, will not allow drunken infidelity, and will want you to participate 50/50 on chores. Why would you want to marry me?” That’s what I want to say. And I am getting a bit more sassy about it, but I am trying to find polite and culturally sensitive ways to assert that I have a choice of how I want to be in a relationship. Additionally, I am learning to establish immediately that my time in Zambia will be spent in furthering my education, assisting in development, immersing myself in a culture, and not looking for a Zambian spouse.

I feel pretty passionately about working with the young women in my community. So many girls get pregnant at a very very young age and have to drop out of school in order to take care of their new families. The schools are doing a good job of working on programs that assist girls in finishing their education if they have started a family as a teen, but it’s incredibly difficult to take care of their babies and get the money for school fees and take care of their homes. The burden of responsibility falls squarely on the “girl child” and I am incredibly burdened by the necessity to let girls/women know that they really do have a choice about their future. Of course this means getting a solid understanding of the language.

I’m thinking a lot about these incredibly complicated issues. I have a large group of young girls (between the ages of two and sixteen!) who show up at my house nearly every day. They teach me Sunday School songs in Ki Kaonde and I teach them the ABC song, the Hokey Pokey, and Sunday School songs in English. We jump around a lot and do a lot of laughing and yelling in confusion since we often do not understand each other at all. But since it appears they are making their appearances a habit, I’m trying to think of how to make that time constructive learning time. I’m hoping to get my hands on some really simple kids books in English to act out as stories and help them with their English skills since it’s imperative that the girls have a good grasp in the national language for potential employment and access to resources.

I’ll wrap up by giving you a glimpse of my daily life. I wake up about 5:30 a.m. and pop open the window near my bed to watch the sun come up. I’m up and out of my mosquito net around 6:00 ish and try to get a fire going. (This has taken me up to an hour and a half.) I am reading through the Bible this year and so I do my Bible study every morning and plan out my day while I’m waiting for my water to boil. I cook breakfast (mostly oatmeal!) and have tea, sweep my house, and do laundry if necessary. Then I get myself out of the house to either attend meetings or walk in the market and introduce myself to strangers or say hello to my acquaintances. I don’t really cook anything for lunch because making three fires in a day is just a pain, so I am eating through my protein and granola bars at an incredible rate! Most afternoons I ride into the boma to take in whatever mail I’ve written the night before and to pick up any yummy stuff from the bakery. Once I get back to the house I read through a portion of my training materials, evaluate what I can do next in my community entry observation period, play with the girls, sew, and start dinner. After dinner, I am locked in my hut by 7:00 p.m. when it gets dark and read. I’m usually asleep by 9:00 p.m.

As I get more comfortable, I’m sure this schedule will change, but for now, it’s really nice to have the time to get settled in, meet people, and contemplate this amazing cultural experience. I’ll be returning to Solwezi in a few weeks for a Peace Corps meeting and I’ll update everyone then with more stories.

Keep the letters coming!

Stacey Jean

The First Two Weeks of My New Life:

It’s impossible to know where to begin. I called my parents at 4:00 a.m. because I was in the provincial house and having trouble sleeping due to some sniffing, sneezing, and general allergy melancholy. I talked to them for more than an hour and a half and just rattled on and on and on without really saying much of anything. So rather than do that here, I will just share some of my reflections that I journaled on my first day and add some stories in the next couple of days while I have internet access.

Oh, and I’m getting mail in Mufumbwe! I’m so excited! We only get mail on Fridays, but I make almost a daily run to the post office since I’m catching up on my responses. Thanks again to everyone who has been sending letters. Yesterday on transport I made a bit of commotion laughing out loud at the letters that had come into my box this week—it’s so good to be connected to home.

April 5

Today is the first full day at site and I had the same experience upon arrival as I did when I first arrived at homestay. I almost cried when I walked into my house and wanted more than anything to run away. Run as fast as I could back to my comfortable couch, air conditioning, and car. Fortunately, though, it is 9:00 p.m. and I have not seen any roaches. A vast improvement over my old house.

The night before we arrived I got very little sleep at the house because of jitters and then thoroughly cleaned the provincial house office the next morning in an effort to calm my nerves. (Who knew I would be that girl?? Certainly not me.) By 12:30 we were picked and packed and had our final shawarma and a quick last minute trip to Shop-Rite to purchase final food item purchases.

Because we got a late start, Caitlin had to stay with me for the night and then get posted this morning. It was nice to have the company and we stayed up and played Uno, ate chocolate, and read a magazine. I am plagued with anxieties. I fear that I won’t do anything positive in the next two years, that I won’t have any close friends, that I will not pick up on the language, and yet I have pride that I’m actually here at least trying to make a difference for others and for myself. And I’m trying to really believe that I will really be living in this tiny tiny hut for the next two years.

Reflections on my April 5 journal:

My emotions have been on a fast-moving swing. I alternate between euphoria, anxiety, and longing for home. But I can say that I’m finally settling into my house! Unfortunately, the roaches did indeed find me as well as a couple of frogs and a mouse, but I am getting a cat at the end of this week and I’m hoping that she will help alleviate those issues! I’ve also put up photos from home on a mini-clotheslines in my ‘living area’, given my dolls “little Kim” and “little Shirley” a prominent place on my table, and hand sewed curtains! (hoorah for me!) The community is working hard at making me comfortable. They made me a little wooden porta-potty looking seat for my pit latrine—very funny story there—have finished a gazebo, and are putting up a fence.

Work has been slow, but I have started meeting people and I force myself to go into town often and just greet, greet, greet.

I’ve also gotten much better at starting a charcoal fire every morning and evening and I’m always in by 7:00 p.m. to write letters and read. So, if you’ve written me, expect a response very very soon! (Well, soon as soon is from Africa)

I’ll write some of my stories out in the next couple of days.

All my love to everyone!
SJJ

It Is Official

I found out on Thursday that despite my terrible Ki Kaonde testing, I passed training and was officially sworn in on Friday as a full-fledged PCV (and Kaonde “washed in water,” as they say). We 39 trainees got gussied up in our finest chitenge suits and took a very official oath of service and pigged out on fabulous fabulous Indian food afterward in Lusaka. It was a very great day and whenever I have pictures available online, you can admire what can be done with a 2 meter cloth and how great my hair looks when I actually have a hair dryer and a curling iron. I put on perfume for the first time in two months and forced those near me to sniff me and tell me how wonderful I looked/smelled.

Story about the chitenge suit. Our language class decided to wear matching patterns of chitenge and choose a dress. Since we differed on style, I walked in to the tailor and said “please make me a number 6” and left the two other girls to hash out details on lace, hems, sleeves, etc. When I went to pick up my suit I discovered that the tailor had randomly chose another set of chitenges and made me a suit. We had an argument over what I had asked for originally and I thought for a while I would be wearing one of the same sets of clothes I’ve been in since I left DC. The lady was incredibly miffed with me and told others that I had tried to cheat her. Fortunately, 24 hours later I had a dress that fit and looked great and was the material I had actually purchased! Clear communication is essential here, but nearly impossible.

We are in Solwezi again for a couple of days ordering all of our supplies for the big move. I went into the hardware store today to inquire about sky blue paint for my mud hut walls. I’m trying to think of fancy little things I can do to make myself as comfy as possible. I am dreading shopping for buckets, pails, mattresses, etc. and all I’ve actually purchased in the last two days are a set of Tupperware and some bowls. Eating is always a priority for me. I’ve accepted it and will one day write an entry only on food and how much I love it and the amazing joy I get from making mac and cheese and how when given the choice between being plump or hungry, I will always choose plump.

We were asked as a training group to write down responses to yearbook questions for the end of our service like: who in your group is most likely to extend their service, etc. We will find out what our peers said about us at the end of our two years, but I already know my category of nomination: She Who Will Never Eat Nshima. This isn’t really true. I will eat nshima because it is culturally mandated to eat nshima if you respect the culture. But I will never choose to eat nshmia or crave it or cook it. If this changes, I will let you know.

I hope everyone is well and I will get back to writing letters every night as soon as I get posted. Please say a prayer for me on Thursday—the day I move into my new home. I’m excited and scared and worried: generally conflicted. I will be back into the PCV house at the end of April to get my work permit renewed and will write then. With all love, Stacey J.

3 Days & Counting…

Only three days left until we swear in as full-time Peace Corps Volunteers! Unfortunately, I have been a bit sick for the last couple of days and my language proficiency test went very poorly this morning. My instructor was kind, but did mention that I did not seem myself—perhaps he noticed when I misunderstood his family question and answered that I had five children instead of saying I am the oldest of five children. Then, he proceeded to inquire about why I’m not married, which in English is hard enough to explain, and I fumbled for several minutes with my pieces of vocabulary to tell him that I didn’t marry so I could work in Peace Corps! This wasn’t a good enough explanation for him since we have a married couple in our training group, so I just said that at home I was too busy between work and school and friends. He said that didn’t make any sense to him since I had time in the evenings, and the language exchange broke down altogether. I then mumbled through a few statements about my work in the Peace Corps, etc. and generally forgot more than I remembered of the words I’ve been practicing for several weeks. So, I’ll find out on Thursday if I have to retake the test. To make myself feel better about my dreadful performance this morning, I will write out the first goal of the Peace Corps in my local language.

Kukwasha byalo bikebekwa bukwasho bwa bukomo. I know you’re impressed.

Yesterday I went home early after our final presentation for technical training and lay in bed for most of the afternoon and evening and just stared at the “ceiling”, or trash bag hanging under the thatched roof, and listened to the roaches and my mouse play. I did finish reading my novel, which was nice, and spent some decent time catching up on sleep. I’ve actually had a bit more time than I expected to read during PST and the PC Trainees have been great about exchanging books once we’re finished with them. Since our days end at sundown (approximately 7:00 p.m.!) there is not a whole lot to do between nightfall and sleep except read, study, and write letters. I try not to write too many letters when I’m feeling a blue, so I find it works better to just immerse myself in a book. The only downside to this is that I often fall asleep with my headlamp on and wake up in a couple hours cursing myself for wasting precious precious battery power. I’ve decided to keep track what I’ve read while in Zambia and I am going to try to add a very nerdy book list to this blog if the network stops crashing every few minutes.

Books are incredibly expensive in Zambia and they are a rare commodity. I went into the bookstore in Lusaka on Sunday to take a look around and was amazed to see that the cheapest paperback runs about 45,000 kw. Sure, this is only about $10 USD, but for the average rural Zambian, this amount is exorbitant. One of the projects I’m most interested in is a regional library since I strongly believe in the advantages of reading and exposing readers to literature. My counterpart is also very interested in such a project, but the logistical complications are a nightmare, and it will take me a while to fully discover whether or not this project is feasible and if it’s really a priority in my two year commitment here.

The rains are starting to subside and we will be heading into the cold season soon. I’m still not certain if cold means cold the way I think of it in Colorado, but both Americans and Zambians have assured me that my long underwear and hat will be necessary in a couple of months. While I’m sweating in the hot Zambian sun, this seems unbelievable! My new little—and I emphasize the little-- hut is equipped with a tin roof, a status symbol in the village, but an amenity that serves to bake the inhabitant, so I have a feeling I’ll be nice and toasty for a while. Perhaps when cold season gives way to hot season, I’ll be wishing for a thatched roof!

This morning my foot went through the latrine floor after my morning trip to “wash my knees” (a Zambia euphemism). Since I can’t possibly think of anything worse than having the pit latrine cave in while I’m inside, I’m now walking across the path to my friend’s pit latrine when necessary. The Zambians absolutely do not talk about bodily functions in any way or even appear to ever need use of the latrine, so I have to take a walk of shame, toilet paper roll glaring in my hand, any time nature calls.

I’m going to dash now while the network appears to be up… I’ll write again from Solwezi after swear in!

Final Week of Training!

First, I want to say thank you to Jenny-Jenny, Frank & Angie, Aurelia, Mom and Dad, Sis. Bass, and Cynthia for the packages!! They all came this week and it was fabulous! I felt so spoiled, and I shared the wealth with my training group yesterday. We were all starving for some American junk food and the packages came right on time. M&Ms and Pringles have never tasted so great. Also, I finally got some letters that had been delayed for a while and I’m going to have a lot of fun catching up on writing once I get posted. So if you are waiting for a response from me, I will be doing a ton of writing when I arrive in Mufumbwe, and will fill you in on the personal details then.

Yesterday we had our American culture day where we had the opportunity to honor our host families for taking care of us for the last eight weeks. Part of the program was to cook an American feast, which actually ended up being mostly Mexican food—burritos, guacamole, beans—and bbq chicken with garlic mashed potatoes. I was incredibly impressed with how the food prep came together since we started with very minimal amenities: one four burner stove top, a few braziers, a grill, some plates, no real knives. Since we were feeding 150 people, I thought we’d have to eventually just throw our hands up and serve raw veggies, but after spending hours with a Leatherman chopping bell peppers, onions, and garlic cloves into tiny pieces for the mashed potatoes, the feast came together. Our group just pitched in and got the work done with very little in the way of organization, a tremendous feat.

Our families also sang us songs and presented us with gifts. The Americans sang the national anthem (awful) and the Zambians sang us their national anthem (in harmony). I received two bowls from my family, which I intend to use as cereal bowls once I get posted. I also had to recite a thank you speech our language group wrote for our families. The speech went much better than expected; the Kaondes in our village were very excited to hear their language spoken even though I was stilted and slow. Our final language proficiency exam is on Tuesday and I’m quite nervous. We had a mock exam on Friday and I passed, but Tuesday will be the first time I’ll really be speaking in a continuous manner in the local language to someone other than my language teacher for thirty minutes. Agh! Wish me well. My tata made me feel a bit better this morning when he came by to tell me that he was very proud of my language accomplishment.

I called my sister yesterday at 3:00 a.m. Colorado time because I’ve been ridiculously homesick this week. I’m still very pleased with my decision to be here, but I miss hot showers, pop culture, clean couches, and access to technology. I miss my family and my close friends so much my heart is in my throat just writing the words. I had a minor meltdown on Tuesday night when my ba mama came into feed me nshima. I felt terrible to be crying over my meal, when I can’t explain to her why I’m crying and that it has nothing to do with her or how well they are taking care of me or really anything about Zambia. I needed the instant gratification of a telephone call, so I rang D up in the middle of the night to just say hello. (Thank you, Celtel!)

It’s difficult to be split between the half of myself that feels fulfilled and challenged by this experience and the longing for the people who mean so much to me at home.

I finish up training this week and I’m ready to move on to the next phase of my Peace Corps life. I’ll be writing again soon from my new home.

p.s. I have had no end of trouble trying to upload photos. Someday I’ll get the system figured out, so until then I’ll keep snapping away.

Heading Back to Chongwe

Today is our final day in Solwezi and we’ll be returning to Lusaka on the 6:00 a.m. bus tomorrow with our language trainers. Our very kind trainer has invited the three of us Kaonde learners to stay with him in his home with his family for the evening tomorrow and go into Lusaka on Sunday for a final day in the city before we head into our final two weeks of training. Then, pause for a drumroll please, we will be heading off to our lives. I’m fortunate in that we are taking a proper bus tomorrow, so I will get the spoiled bwana treatment of riding sans animals and getting a place in my own seat. Also I’ve learned the great art of hanging out a bus window with 1 or 2 pin (one or two thousand kwacha) and yelling at the street vendors for biscuits (cookies) or soda for the ride when we make our short stops so I don't get too hungry.

For those of you who don’t know, Solwezi is about an eight hour bus ride from Lusaka and my village is about a five hour bus/car/lorry/ox cart ride from Solwezi. They have recently improved the roads, so if any of you are planning to visit me at my site—you know you want to!—the best way to get here is rent a 4-wheel drive after the rainy season and drive. Although many people have friends and family visit them from the states, the trip from Lusaka to my site is nothing to sneeze at. Some of you may want to simply meet me in Lusaka and then travel together to a national park for some fantastic game viewing.

I know a few of you have sent email, and yes, I’m responding when I can. Internet access here tends to be slow and expensive, so I prioritize my time online to write in this blog and then respond to emails as I can. I have been writing letters nearly every day that are far more personal than this blog, and you should be receiving those soon. So even though I often don’t respond to email, or it takes weeks for me to get back with you, I do read them and it makes me feel very loved to hear from you no matter the form of communication.

There is little new to report here. I’m having a few minor medical issues; I think my body is finally over the adrenaline rush of getting here and is complaining about the lifestyle. I have a nasty spider bite on my leg that looks crusty, a mole on my face peeled off, my sunburn is cracking in great brown blotches, I have a toothache, I’m sneezing from the dust, and my stomach has been pretty sensitive and puffy. Of course I’ve also been eating an enormous amount of dairy products in the last few days since I have access to ice cream at a tuck shop and a fridge where we can store milk/chocolate/cheese at the Solwezi house. My ailments can probably be prevented with closer care of insect repellant, pajama pants, sunscreen, vehement flossing after every meal, allergy medication, and proper attention to diet. I’m turning into a crispy dirty hag, but I’m also having the time of my life.

Tonight the previous group of volunteers is passing the baton on to us, the newbies. I’m impressed that after two years in Zambia, the PCVs of NW province have such tremendous self-confidence and have created such close bonds with the other members of the Peace Corps community. It’s going to be a great two years.

I’ll write again after training! Peace Be With You All.
Stacey J.

Street Children and Shawarma

Still in Solwezi and desperately needing a nap! My group and I spent hours last night preparing a Mexican feast and then played a improvised game of Scattergories. This week has been a nice break from the training routine and an opportunity to spend more quality time with the friends we’ll be depending on for in-country support through the next two years.

For lunch we’ve begun a ritual of getting shawarma and chips from a fabulous take away place near the Peace Corps house after language training and then traveling up to a little ice cream shop for a soft serve break. I find it difficult, however, as a moderately chubby American woman to eat my shwarma and swirled cone blissfully when hungry street kids are standing 20 feet away from our table begging. I learned on our first site visit that some of the street kids sniff their own urine and feces in an attempt to get high and stave off their hunger pangs. There are no easy answers in how to respond to the great need of these kids—some of them are as young as six or seven—and I internally wrestle with my moral obligation to give them help.

Yesterday, I went to the grocery story to get items for dinner and discovered that our town has a shortage of eggs. So leaving my friend in the store to fend for herself in the Zambian queues (most Zambians completely ignore line protocol), I went out to the road stand to get a few eggs for breakfast pancakes. I saw the street kids that have taken to following us around Solwezi and asked them in my abysmal Ki Kaonde, “Make kwepi?” (Where are the eggs?) So the kids then nominated themselves as my egg scavengers. They were able to locate a stand in the food market with eggs when it would have taken me hours. At one point, a woman from one of the shops yelled at them to leave the Muzungu lady alone, but I was able to let her know that they were with me. I paid them in sweeties for their services, but I know that this did not fill their bellies. They asked me for ice cream and I denied it because the need does not end with my assistance. I believe this will be a personal struggle for the duration of my time in Africa, but I am getting some comfort, albeit very small comfort, in that the work I will do in education hopefully brings sustainable assistance to the children in the Northwest province.

I’m enjoying my access to electricity and the internet this week! I hope to post with a few anecdotes and thoughts until I return back to training this weekend. I experienced the miracles of the internet yesterday when I sent my folks an email to let them know that I would have my phone on this week and they called me five minutes later. Technology is fabulous.

Mushale Bulongo. Remain Well.
Stacey J.

Finally Time to Blog

Our week at the provincial house has been relaxing and much needed. Our language classes take place in the morning for a few hours and then we either have a cultural discussion in the afternoon or time to study, shop, read, or blog! Last night the six of us brand new Northwestern PCTs made an impromptu dinner of fried soya pieces, spaghetti sauce and macaroni and it was fabulous. Our dinner plans were shifted a bit because the grocery store had closed for a holiday, National Youth Day, and we had to think of what to make with the few groceries we had left over from our site visit. Tonight I’m going to try my hand at making chocolate chip cookies and soya fajitas. After weeks of eating unfamiliar food, communally cooking American food is a blast. We’ll see how I do in my hut when I’m preparing for just myself.

I decided to write today a bit more about my job, my community, and my new home.
I had the opportunity to talk with the head teacher at the school where I’ll be based. The basic school is a government school for 1st through 8th grade and I’m very impressed with the head teacher’s level of personal ambition for his own education and his drive for finding resources for his kids. There are 1300 students who are registered and only six school rooms to house them all. The school lacks space, teachers, and funding in general. My community has suffered greatly from the loss of lives to AIDS and most families do not have the 12,000 kw/term for each of their children to attend school consistently.

Zambian families are extremely tight and count the children of their siblings as their own. This causes those of us who have been trained to accept the nuclear family as norm no end of confusion when we see strange children in our yard that call themselves a “sister”/”brother” to the children we live with and see every day. It’s nearly impossible to decipher the family relationships in American terms of a two parent family with a series of children. Because of this, most families simply adopt the orphans of other families members who have passed on from either HIV related illnesses or other diseases as part of their own family unit, making some families very large. Since most villagers do not actually have a salary, but live off their land and get cash only once a year during harvest, finding funding is extraordinarily difficult.

In this challenging environment, my primary job will be to help with capacity building in getting a resource center established at my school that can aid in zonal and district level administration. Without getting into acronyms and job specifics, I will be working to assist with teacher trainings, aid in monitoring schools within my district’s jurisdiction, facilitating HIV/AIDS awareness classes, discussing options for generating income to help support teacher training (etc.), help track the community schools in our area that use IRI for education, and really be the go-to person for my school. From all the training we’ve received from PC, my general understanding of my position is to listen to my community, figure out what I can assist with, and then get in on grassroots development. I’m terrified and thrilled about the challenge.

I’m attempting to get some photos uploaded, but the network keeps crashing here in this internet café, so I may be successful in only getting one or two up. I will try to include a photo of my new home.

I will be living right on the compound of a carpenter, his wife, and four beautiful children. Because it’s rainy season, much of my house is incomplete, but I was able to see the framework of my teeny tiny hut and make some suggestions. I have just asked to put in some windows so if a spitting cobra comes to visit my house, I’ll be able to see it immediately from the door. The carpenter I’m living next to is busy building a bed frame, table and chair, bookshelves, and a clothes shelf so I'll be at home when I arrive in April. I’m thinking of how to Martha Stewart my home in a way that makes it most comfortable for the next two years without very many resources.

Many of you have inquired about sending American things my way. I have heard through the grapevine that I’ll be getting a few packages in “anytime from now,” (one of my favorite Zambian sayings, and I thank you, thank you, thank you in advance. It can feel very isolating to be away from technology, news, and familiar people, so getting mail and packages from home feels like a wonderful holiday!

Here’s my wish list:

Granola bars
Snack foods
Add water foods: Easy Mac, Soups, Etc.
American shampoo/conditioner
Body spray
Batteries (AAA or AA)
CDs or DVDs (I have a portable CD player and access to a DVD at the provincial house.)
Disinfectant wipes/Anti-bacterial gel
Photos!!!!!! (Preferably laminated or in a cover so they don’t get destroyed by dust or water.)
Chocolate
Hard Candy
Spices (Tony’s spice makes even nshima taste good)
Olive Oil
Lotion
Velveeta Cheese

I’m off again to do some studying and will report again as soon as I can. Just two more weeks until I swear in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer! Hoorah!

Stacey J.

Polygamy, Lories, and Mendelssohn

This is the first time I’ve had internet for weeks, so I apologize for the delay in updating. So much has happened that I will never get a chance to write it all here, but I promise that if you have sent me snail mail—and I’ve received it!!—then I have mailed you personally with an update. And I aplogize up front for any spelling or grammatical errors, but I'm in a huge rush since every second counts up the kwacha!

First, I finally got my actual assignment for my work in the next two years! Please do not send mail into Lusaka anymore, because in three weeks I’ll be living just outside of the town of Mufumbwe in the Northwest Province of Zambia! (Please see the address at the bottom of the page.) I had the chance to go visit the volunteer I’m replacing this past week and had a great time making new friends and learning new skills like how to make a fire in a brazier and then cook on the coals. I discovered I’m one amazing tortilla and pancake artist. Perhaps it’s because the American way of cooking on stove and using a million ingredients or because I have access to Sonic and Whole Foods, or that I’ve been eating only for energy while I’ve been in training, but while I found a million ways to avoid cooking at home, I found myself loving the process here and have made fabulous curry, tortillas, banana chocolate chip pancakes, and almond syrup to show for it... Mom: I took pictures of this process just for you!

We are finally wrapping up training for Peace Corps and I’m looking forward to being an adult again and taking care of myself. I have some great home stay stories, but I’m longing to get to work and start establishing myself in my community. It may help that I had a very bizarre week before traveling to Mufumbwe and part of this was due to the lovely family I’ve been staying with.

Some of you may recall that when I arrived in Zambia I did not have a home stay mother. Since gender roles are strictly defined, this meant that I did not really have anyone to make meals or help me with washing or heating water for bathing. After about three days of being in a nearby neighbor’s care, a woman showed up that started bringing me meals. I was so nervous and excited that I didn’t really notice her absence and sudden appearance. Fast forward five weeks. I was sitting at my table attempting to study Ki Kaonde and learning nothing quickly. My “parents” were attending a family funeral and my “brothers” had just brought me a lovely bowl of peas for dinner and had gone to bed. Outside my hut was this incredible commotion and a woman yelling “Odi! Odi!” (Let me in.) Since everyone was away, I did the brave and noble thing. I put all my bags in front of the door and turned up my music and ignored the person and just studied while the roof shook a bit and voices yelled. I was Noah in the Ark. I finally fell asleep around midnight and when I woke in the morning and asked my TaTa what had happened, he just replied in Zam fashion, “it has been taken care of.”

So I went to language training and asked my instructor if he knew what trouble was brewing in the Kaonde family. He then told me the story that had been withheld on a Need To Know Basis. Here it goes:

My tata had a large family, but his wife passed away in 1999. All of his children are from this first wife. He remarried. This wife was his wife until he opted to have a PC volunteer (moi) and she did not want to keep an American in her home. She left. I arrived. A third wife appeared to take care of me. The second wife then returns to kick out wife number three, but did not know that I live in the original family home. So after much yelling at my house, some stone throwing, and a family brawl, wife number three is here to stay.

The best part of this story: no one seems dazed by this except myself.

Every day in Zambia is an adventure. Yesterday I had to hitchhike with my Peace Corps neighbor in the Mufumbwe district back to our provincial home for a week of intense language and cultural training. We woke at 6:00 a.m. to bike at sunrise down into the boma to try and get transport. (My current favorite Zambian activity: biking through the bush. Awesome.) When we arrived into town, we sat on the side of the road for three hours waiting for a ride when a lorry truck pulled in and said we could hop on for a fee. The back was piled with Mealy Meal and a couple women, but it looked like enough room for the two of us. By the end of the trip, I was perched on the Mealy Meal with 25 Zambians, a chicken, and three feet of luggage without any sunblock on going about 30 mph on the open road through the bush. I had to pause and think of my new life as an adventurer. I particularly missed my brother, Jeremy, when I thought of how much joy he would take in such a ride!

We are at the provincial home for a week and I’m eating everything I see. The Peace Corps sets up a house for each province where the volunteers can go every month to use the phone, stay in a real bed, use the internet, cook on a stove, and take a shower, and so this week we are using it as a training base and a way to get familiar with all of our neighbors. Tonight we are making lasagna and chocolate chip cookies and I’m going to read to my heart’s content. The provincial home also houses a library of all the books that volunteers have read and did not want to take home with them when the returned to America. Hundreds of books. And time to read. Wow.

I love my new home. I will write more of this later. I’m only a few clicks from the school I’ll be basing from and a few from my town. The town has an amazing perk: a BAKERY! The American missionaries who live on a compound outside the town has shared recipes with a Zambian woman who has started making cakes and banana bread for the community. I stopped in for a piece of chocolate cake the other day and the woman looked at me and said, “you will be my best customer. You and that other boy.” (Meaning my Peace Corps neightbor). Yes, I will be her best customer. Mufumbwe also has power (most of the time), has a little outdoor place to play pool, a guest house that will rent me showers!, and a beautiful main road lined with gorgeous trees. I’ve met several wonderful people and sat in on the choir practice for the New Apostolic Church of Zambia yesterday. Amazing. The choir was learning complicated classical pieces by listening to an instructor who read the music from a sheet-without using a pitch pipe. I was welcomed warmly and sat on the front pew beaming for more than an hour.

I’m running out of time here. I will return sometime this week to add thoughts and post pictures. I miss you all and I think of you every day.

With all my love,
Stacey Jean.

Writing an Email near a Chicken Coop

We have discovered an IGA (income generating activity) that runs two computers with internet in a shelter behind a chicken coop and a brewery. To get here, we have to walk 20 minutes up the tarmac from our huts, turn right at the swing set/butcher store and walk through a corn field.

Yes, I am in Zambia!

My friend and fellow language student is sitting next to me running through Kaonde flashcards since we have just a few days until our next language test and we will need to be able to use all 18 noun classes (agh!) and 5 verb tenses. I’m still trying to understand how we can have a verb noun class, but we do, and I will need to know how to make sure that my sentences are in agreement by Friday. Saturday we leave for our second site visit and I will finally see my new home.

Yesterday the Peace Corps trainees in my village had the privilege of meeting with the Head Man. In Zam fashion, our family was not quite sure when to arrive and had made plans to go into Chongwe to tour the police station, clinic, butcher shops, and family members, but on our way to town we were stopped by the coordinator of the Head Man visit and told to come in and pay our respects in the village court—a mud building we affectionately call “Lizard School” for the families of lizards living there. Since I am learning that waiting is a national pastime, I had fortunately brought a journal and a book, which I took advantage of for the next hour, and we were eventually paid respects by our village leader. The women danced for us and sang and welcomed us and I shook a hundred hands and I thought, “I LIVE here,” which is something I think on and off all the time. Since I'm preoccupied with the necessity of learning my new job, taking tests, and maneuvering the pit latrine, it is a brilliant moment when I really breathe and experience the reality of being here in this beautiful place with these lovely people.

The week had its ups and downs as I am starting to really miss my friends and family! Fortunately, I had a pile of mail finally arrive after weeks of waiting and I've struck up some excellent friendships with my near neighbors. I live in a village "cul de sac" and often spend time with the two ladies in my compound and two friends down the road. One of these friends was unfortunate enough to experience a bott fly in his knee, malaria, and a full body rash from an allergic reaction to fumigation all in three days. We are hoping that he has experienced all of our early African maladies for us! I have only had some vague stomach discomfort from too much vegetable oil and Coca Cola, but otherwise have been healthy and starting to get fit from all the walking!

The rain is pouring down and we may lose power, so I am going to sign off quickly. I love you all. Do write when you can. I write letters every night after classes and will return any mail.

Stacey J.