We are human after all

So the books are coming from Mpika, which is about 600k from me I think. You can imagine how difficult it is to arrange transport from such a distance. Arrange with no phone books or internet but only short expensive calls and texts. The man who is really arranging is Willy, who I contacted through a friend and met for about 10 minutes. Long enough for him to tell me there were no trucks going to Lusaka when I wanted them to but that he would arrange. After three weeks of waiting I think they are on their way...maybe even in Lusaka though can't be sure.
Last week I texted Willy to see what was up and when he said they were coming soon I then texted back that he should be sure to tell the driver to cover them well with plastic. He responded that the driver had a good tent and don't worry the books will come. I then texted: "That is great. Thank you. Sorry to keep bothering you I am just anxious and excited for the books!" TO which he said: "We are human we must help each other." Very true Willy. And in a nutshell we have what is so great about how wonderful Zambia is. I mean maybe he is getting a cut of the deal but maybe not too.

A man from Rwanda was talking to Mr Zulu the other day and telling him that no matter if Zambia is peaceful you never know when things will change, when people will change, when your neighbors will turn. It is a very common story in Africa and tragic that is the expectation. If any country can be free of that legacy or expectations it is Zambia. I hope.


When I got back from America I was sitting in Chongwe waiting for a full bus to take me home, and sometime in that four hours the driver pointed to another mid sized bus that came limping by. The bus looked to be in bad shape, which is saying a lot considering the perpetual state of breakdown in which most Zambian buses exist. This bus was coming from Lwimba, the driver told me, it was just now pulled out of the river. Apparently, a few days earlier the bus driver decided to stay in Chongwe, visiting a girlfriend as the story goes, leaving the conductor to finish the bus route. The conductor was, apparently, not very adept at driving an overloaded stick shift bus up a steep incline. The bus "failed to climb" the hill coming out of the river bed, sliding back down towards the bridge, at which point the driver/conductor jumped out and left a bus full of people to roll into the river. And then the driver/conductor ran away. Luckily no one was hurt. Luckily the bus ran down a soft slope instead of tipping off the side of the bridge. Luckily the river was not full that day. But cell phones were damaged, mealie meal and fertilizer ruined. That really is the stick of it. Even if you can manage you probably are only just managing, and then something happens, like your bus rolling into a river, or you are accused of being a witch, and you are no longer ahead.

I am closing down shop here but putting off thinking about what will happen once I am state side. More just thinking about what I want to take. What I will hopefully protect once in the flood of American life. It is easy to be swept away. It is strange to think of all the things that feel so comfortable, that feel easy. How many times have I craved ease and convenience. Options. Immediate gratification. Accountability and some level of trust in the system. (Zambia has taught me the beauty of a functioning system - inversely). It will be interesting to see what things I crave when I am in America and away from Zambia. Greetings, kids kids kids, cute phrases, men wearing Brittney Spears shirts with jauntily fringed edges...

Someone was asking me what it was like to be in America and if it was overwhelming, fearing what it would be like to move back. I said, and hope, that we have a unique perspective, more detached, so that we might choose what to let in and what not. Is two years enough for that? I suppose it is an ongoing discipline.

I have also thought many times about how I will not miss the feeling of guilt and complication in how I live and how I live with my neighbors. As in having to sit with yourself after telling a family that has been out of maize since November that you will not give them food. I have a lot of good reasons for refusing handouts. I can not feed a family of 10 for 6 months. I can not feed half of my village who is in the same predicament. I do not what to be seen by my neighbors as a way to get things. They are able bodied and giving food will not help them learn to budget or plan better. (People who are willing to work hard do alright) and I do not understand why you would need sugar for a baby. Invalid requests excluded- no matter how good your reasons you can't escape that denying someone food who needs it, when you have more than you need, is on some level inhumane. The problem of course is that when I am back in America I will not be removed from making this decision. I will continue to decide everyday about what I give and what I keep, (and what I do with what I keep), but I will be removed from the intensity of it. As much as that, in someways, seems so relaxing and easy - I am also so frightened that the reality I know here will seem so distant and less real. Like something you know of but really nothing about.

There is no escape of the participation just the consequences.

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There is a chicken that stays around my place all day and as soon as I turn my back darts inside to peck at Garbanzo's food. She is quick, relentless and devlish. Feathers of jet black with a sinister bluish gleam. I think of her as the devil's hand maiden. I often get angry with Garbanzo for not helping to defend the house, since it is HIS food she is after ("Do you constantly sharpen your claws for nothing!") But really can you blame him? What is a wee cat to do against such a beast? Twice his size, outfitted with sharp tallons and a beak, and has the devil on her side.

I have seriously considered asking the Zulus if I can buy this chicken. No, just that chicken and yes I will pay twice her worth...now, will you kindly assist me in slaughtering this chicken which I have just by chance purchased? We can feast together.

It hasn't happened yet. But I am not promising it won't.