Deep thoughts with Chileshe

So, yes, my Bemba name is Chileshe. But in the village I am called a number of things… From misungu (white person), to Courtenay, to Courtenah, to Chile and Chileshe- I never seem to get called by my real name. Anyways, this entry is meant to be a conglomeration of some random anecdotes and thoughts that have been bouncing around my head for a while.

The biking culture is something huge here. Owning a bike is a pretty significant social status in the illage, even if the bike is old and tore up (like most are). The Zam-bikes are essentially road bikes with a high seat and handlebars, and very thin tires (usually bald and having numerous patches). However bad the state of disrepair is though, Zambians use these bikes to no end. You will see a man hauling 1-4 big bags of charcoal, or iron sheets for his roof on the bike rack. Did I mention that the bike racks on Zam-bikes are HUGE and are an integral part of the machine itself. Men will also often bike with theif wife issting on the bike rack, baby strapped to her back and all. Now, I have biked with some heavy loads before: ie my big camping back, packages from the post office, etc etc. But I had never biked with another person before. That is until I picked up an 11 year old neighbor boy in the rain the other day. We weren’t very far from our village, so I figured it wouldn’t be too difficult. Boy was I wrong. He couldn’t have weighed more than 80 pounds, but I tell ya- I was struggling! I always knew Zambians were extremely strong individuals, but their biking skills are something else!
This next story also involves the people I spend most of my time with- small children- namely boys. (Sidenote- in my village Kambe, there are significantly more boys than girls). The kisd will come over to my house at least once a day to play with the exoborant amount of toys I have. While I don’t usually mind their company, I do not allow school kids to play with my things if they didn’t go to school that day. Oftentimes, one of the truants will get the little kids too young for school to come over and ask for the soccer ball while they hid behind a tree watching and waiting. I can usually spot them, and then call them out and ask why they’re not at school. I never get a real answer, so I tell them to go to school tomorrow and then they can play. Attendance at school is a HUGE problem, and I’m not going to reward the kids for not going to school. Rainy season is especially bad and I can’t necessarily blame the kids who live three plus kilometers away and have to walk without a jacket or umbrealls, but there needs to be some enforcement of attendance. So, the kids will color with crayons, put together puzzles, or play with the soccer ball in my yard on a daily basis. On a number of occasions now, I have caught kids under 4 years old peeing in my yard when they think I’m not looking. It’s always been a boy, and they always jump out of their skin when I walk out my door and shout in surprise. They funny thing is they are doing it right in front of the other kids, yet know they’re doing something wrong as soon as they see my face. I’ve told them I don’t mind if they use my toilet, but apparently they like the front yard better.
I thought I might go into a little detail about my “family” here in Zambia. When Peace Corps is looking for places to put volunteers, they will oftentimes get advice from local government officials. Apparently the District Forestry Officer of Mpika was the one who chose Luchembe for my site. Peace Corps will then go into the community and then try to find a vacant house in a good area that will be used by the volunteer. They do not employ any family to take care of the volunteer, but if the house was once theirs or is on their compound, they will oftentimes feel it is their job to care for the volunteer. My house was once used for some Japanese volunteers, but I’m not positive who it originally belonged to. It is not on anyone’s compound, so it was never really obvious for the neighbors that they should ‘take care’ of me. However, the Chibeka family has kindly taken me under their wing. They do not get paid by Peace Corps, but are constantly making sure that my house is safe, and feeding me. I used to go to their house for dinner every night, but now I give them a break a couple nights a week. I repay their generosity by bringing a relish for their nshima, or buying them a small amount of talktime for their phone, or soap for washing, matches, etc. I am very grateful for their help while I am out of the village, in feeding my cat and watching over my hut. They were the main contributors to building the addition to my house, and are the ones I go to when I have a problem in the village. It’s funny because the wife, Poulin, speaks better English than her husband, Phillip—an oddity in Zambian culture. They are both young- Poulin 28, Phillip 37, and have 4 young children. I really like eating with them, but sometimes feel guilty for eating their food that is so precious to them. I try to introduce them to American dishes, and they appreciate this greatly. In the evenings, the dinner process goes something like this: I’ll come over around 18 or 18:30 and sit in the insaka (gazebo type building where cooking is done) with Poulin while she waits for the water to boil. Once the water is boiling, she’ll put in the ubunga or maize/millet meal. Most of the time we eat millet nshima, and this takes a significantly shorter time to cook than maize nshima. She will have a big basket of dishes next to her and will go through practically every one of them, picking one up, examining it, putting it back, picking up another, then picking up the first one…Eventually she’ll have the right dishes out and will dole out individual lumps of nshima for me, her, Phillip, and the two year old, Joe in one dish, and then a big pile of nshima for the three other kids. The kids get their own bowl of relish also and usually sit on their porch to eat. Most of the times there is only one relish (beans, greens, eggs, groundnuts, mushrooms, etc) so when I bring a relish, they get really excited for two. Me, the adults, and Joe will eat outside on the ground on the reed mat or in the insaka. Before eating we ‘wash’ our hands in a dish of water (no soap), and then pray. After eating, we wash our hands again (no soap), and the kids collect the dishes to be washed. I’ll sit outside for a while, mostly in silence, but sometimes engaging in our broken English/Bemba conversation. Humble though it may be, I do enjoy my dinners with the Chibekas.
In other news, my cat Lucy just had 4 kittens. She had been really sick before I left for vacation and I was pretty worried about her. When I returned I noticed her stomach was pretty large and suspected she may be pregnant, but didn’t think they would come for another month or so. Well the other morning she camped out underneath my bed and popped out 4 babies. Not sure what I’m going to do with them since my neighbors highly dislike cats. Hopefully I’ll find some volunteers that will want Ricky, Ethel, Fred, and Little Ricky as I’m calling them for now. Haha.