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.