small thoughts

Still in Lusaka- have been here for a week now and getting a bit bored. If my leg weren't still oozing - I would try to go out and explore the city. For now I've just been splitting my time between the PC office and the two local malls. Have seen 2 movies now and spent too much on taxis. It's pretty interesting here how getting lifts works. Walking down the road cars will pull over or honk to see if you want a lift- not free of course- but still a lift anyways. One gentleman actually gave me his phone number and I've called him a few times now to pick me up from my guesthouse and take me to the mall and back.

I thought of one strange facet of being an American here in Zambia. While us PCVs are taught a local language (mostly Bemba, Nyanja, or Kaonde), many develop a sort of Zam-glish accent. When talking to a Zambian in English, it becomes common to develop a simple speech pattern with small words and strange grammar. In essence it is emulating the way the Zambian is speaking- but I tend to find it a bit disrespectful. However I must admit that I have caught myself falling into this Zam-glish trap. I suppose it is because we are trying to make it easy for the other person to understand us when in reality it kind of makes us sound mean and dumb. I'm not sure how the Zambian's feel about it- but I am personally trying to stop myself. Interesting also because many of the folks in my intake told me when they first met me that I have one of the thickest accent's they've heard (midwestern). I can't say that I've ever thought of myself as having a midwest accent, but it made me laugh.

Another idea I've been thinking about lately (while sitting in bed with my leg up watching horrible tv) is that of personal identity here. We were taught a great deal about being a Zambian during training. In the village, we are essentially supposed to become someone that the community accepts and trusts: a Zambian. While I am very excited about the opportunity to be accepted by my community and treated as an insider- I want to make sure that I maintain my American identity as well. I have heard stories of PCV's becomming different people while serving and then feeling isolated when they return back home. It's completely understandable to me now how one could get lost in the culture here- or anywhere for that matter- and loose the internal self. I really think it is the little things that will have to keep me grounded to myself and to my home.

All of this talk makes me get really anxious to get back in the village. Hopefully sometime at the beginning of next week I can get back to Northern Province.