Category Archives: Community and Culture

A backyard barbecue…

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This weekend, the tenants in the flat next to mine had a big barbecue in the common backyard and invited everyone in the surrounding flats to come.  Apparently these weekend barbecues were a regular thing last year, but this was the first one since I have been here.  It was attended by a large number of ex-pats, mostly in their 20s and 30s and most of them working for some service organisation or other.   (These service organisations are called “NGOs” for “Non-Governmental Service Organisation.”)

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And they were from all over the world, too…some Americans, but also folks from Spain, Holland, France, Venezuela and several other countries.  There were also folks from Zambia; some were service workers as well and some boyfriends/girlfriends of the ex-pats at the party.

The three little girls who are daughters of the on-site manager were also invited.  They had made (with help from one of the girls who lives next door to me) a delicious chocolate mousse.  This was devoured within 15 minutes of being put out on the table.  Other folks had brought offerings such as cous-cous salad, baba ghanoush, some kind of spicy popcorn, fresh pineapple with rum and mint and other kinds of salads and side dishes.

But the real deal was the meat.  The huge grill was filled with charcoal and after the coals had turned to embers, piled with meat of all kinds.  Marinated ribs, sausages, steak, pork, chicken, shrimp…there was even a kind of cheese that could be grilled.  Unlike a typical picnic where the meat is eaten along with the rest of the food, this was like a separate meat course.  Good thing, too, as there was no room on the plate for such things as salad.

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A lively game of Beer Pong was set up and played with great gusto throughout the evening.  I was informed that the red Solo cups being used were “regulation” and had actually been shipped over from the states.  Over near the pool, a more sedate game of Jenga was taking place.  The little girls darted in and out, always somehow having a full plate of food.

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It was fun talking to everyone about where they’d come from and where they’d been.  After a few hours, I went back to my flat, but the party continued into the night and I could hear the laughter and the cheers from the Beer Pong game for quite some time.

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(Doot, doot, doot) Lookin’ out my back door…

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Late yesterday afternoon, I took a stroll around my little garden and the common backyard and noticed how many different (and beautiful) flowers and bushes there were, just in this little area.  And in the dry season!

I am no gardener (although I do love colourful growing things!) so maybe someone can tell me what some of these are…or at least a close approximation!  The only one I was sure of was the mint growing right by the walkway.  And I do love mint.

Late afternoon here is not the same as at home.  Because we are so close to the equator, there is no real twilight or lingering sunsets (or sunrises!)   BAM!  Sun’s up!  And BOOM!  It’s down!  But there is a sort of hazy change in the light, right around 5:00pm, which is when I took these pictures.

I tried to get some pictures of the little lizards (chameleons, I think) that skitter up and down the path (and even onto the porch) but they were too shy.  Next time!  Apparently there are also tortoises and voles who inhabit the yard, too.

And it’s Friday.  Made it through the first week of school!  Still don’t have my car back, so likely will do some more walking this weekend, or perhaps be really adventurous and brave the little blue vans that pass for public transportation here.

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A walk through an “unplanned settlement” in Kabulonga

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Today I took a long walk…not towards the city, but the other way, into what is called an “unplanned settlement.”  These settlements are areas that have sprung up over the past 40 or 50 years, as people build houses and other structures on vacant or unclaimed land.  The Kabulonga Dam (also called the Kalikiliki Dam) was built across a stream in a marshy area in the 1960s by the owner of the plot.  After several people drowned in the resulting lake, hostility towards the owner (a white man) caused him to give the plot and dam to someone else, who later died. Because the dam is on private land, it has not been maintained since 1990. The current condition of the dam is hazardous. According to Lusaka City Council Engineering Department, seepage has been detected at the base over the past few years and it is in danger of collapsing. The dam wallhas also been heavily eroded as people have built right into it; they have even used soil from the dam wall for construction purposes. The current structure of the wall would not withstand strong currents were the dam to be allowed to fill up.

You can read more about the dam, the settlements and what the government is (and is not) doing about it in this study done in 2007.  CLICK HERE.

I took a right out of my driveway and walked down Sable road.  I crossed the (unnamed) paved road at the end of the street and walked onto the dirt extension of Sable road.  There was a lot of new construction; big houses with yards and carports.  Lusaka is expanding.  I got some curious looks, but mostly smiles and “hellos.”  Then I turned onto the road going towards the dam.  There was a school, with a colorful sign and a group of boys playing soccer with a tattered ball.
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Although the dam shows up like a blue lake on the map view, in reality it is a marshy area, with piles of trash on either side and houses crowed along the edge.  One of the larger piles of trash was burning, and there were people picking through the smokey rubble.  Where the “lake” would be in the rainy season, someone had planted a large garden, with what looked like cabbages and other greens.
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As I walked further into the settlement, the looks became more curious.  Several times I was asked “Where you going, Madam?”  Apparently the answer “Just taking a walk” was very odd, especially for a white woman dressed in hiking shoes and shorts, carrying two bottles of water in a waist pack and wearing a floppy LLBean sunhat.  I am sure I looked ridiculous.    There were houses crowded in together on the side of the “dam” and little stores – there was even a bar. Lots of grinning children ran up to me, saying “Hi!  Hi! How are you?” and then running away again.  Some of them let me take their picture.  I was apparently quite a curiosity.

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There was trash and rubbish everywhere.  Plastic bottles, tin cans, styrofoam packaging from food, milk cartons.  All just lying in piles or on the road.  There is no trash pick-up, no place to put the refuse of the fancy packaging from the first world.  Plastic cannot be composted or burned.  People pick through it and sometimes make things…I complemented a little boy who had created a credible truck out of a couple of old milk-cartons and another boy, later on, who had constructed a vehicle out of a wire frame.  But the settlement is basically on top of a garbage dump…and there is no way to get rid of the mountains of trash.  And yet…colorful flowers still seem to grow…

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And then, I took a turn towards town and suddenly I was on a wide paved road with a sidewalk…a rarity outside of the main part of the city.  I made my way towards home, and the sign for the “luxury housing” so close to the settlement I had just come from seemed incongruous.  I stopped at the little stand on corner of the dirt road where I had started my walk and bought some fresh tomatoes, eggs and roasted peanuts.

CLICK HERE to see a map of where I walked!

Scenes from the road

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One of the interesting things about Lusaka is that you are literally right at the edge of the bush.  Unlike other capital cities, which gradually get less crowded and more suburban as you drive away, Lusaka goes from congested, crowded city to sparsely populated landscape in a matter of minutes.  There are very few paved roads and even the new “main road” I took out of the city was basically a strip of asphalt with occasional speed bumps to slow traffic down when you reached a small group of “stores” on the side of the road.  These stores were usually home-made affairs, sometimes a simple lean-to made of branches to sell tomatoes or corn, sometimes a bit more elaborate building with white-washed sides and hand-painted signs.  And even in the most remote stretches of road, there were little shacks where you could purchase “top-up” cards for AirTel or another Zambian cell phone service.

I turned off the main road about 20 km from Lusaka (thinking I would find the Blue Lagoon Park…) and drove for another 10 or 15 km on a dirt road.  Here and there were turn-offs with sign for a school or a church.  And there were groups of houses – huts, really – every few kilometers, always with bagged coal at the edge of the road to sell and sometimes with a stand for vegetables.  People lived here.  Most walked everywhere, although the blue and white vans which serve as public transport were in evidence here, too.   No electricity, no running water that I could see.  Most kept goats or chickens and I also saw cattle and oxen.  I assume everyone had a garden plot and the kids went to one of the schools along the road.

Everyone was friendly.  Everyone waved  and smiled at the white lady in the small silver car, slowing down to take a picture.

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Sunday Market and a mini-game drive.

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For the last day of our new teacher orientation, we all piled into the bus and went to the Sunday craft market at the new Arcades Mall.  This is a smaller market, with many local crafts such as rugs, baskets, masks, statues, fabric, furniture and other traditional African items.  It was a colorful scene and I could easily see doing most of my Christmas shopping here.  Vendors would stand in the middle of the aisle and if they saw you even glance at their wares, would try to coax you closer to take a look.  “Just a look, Madam!  Not to buy!  Just to look!  See what I have!  Just a small look!”

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There were many beautiful items.  I was looking for some baskets for my house and also planned to buy several lengths of colorful fabric to hang on the walls, as the house is very plain and stark.  I am proud to say that I stuck to my plan, although I was sorely tempted by the incredible array of masks and wooden carvings.  I came away with four beautiful hand-made baskets, two with handles and two bowl-shaped ones.  I think I got a bargain on those.  And I bought five 2-meter lengths of printed cloth to hang on the wall.  I think I probably paid too much for those.  But it all evens out in the end.

Then we piled ourselves and our purchases back into the bus for a trip to a nearby lodge and game farm.  This is not one of the huge game parks that are several hours out of the city, but a more sedate affair only about 45 minutes away.  It was called the “Protea Hotel Safari Lodge.”   A beautiful setting on a lake, with a delicious lunch buffet.  As is my habit, I tried some of the more unusual offerings.  The salad table had an enormous variety.  I had some kind of coleslaw-like dish that was made of thinly sliced turnip with a creamy dressing…very nice.  And a cold lemon soup – again, a light cream base and a refreshing taste.  I also had a skewer of marinated beef and what I think was pork, along with an eggplant dish and fresh green beans.  There was the ubiquitous nsmiba to use as a base.  And my dessert was something called “South African Friendship Cake” which was like a very light cheesecake with a crumbly crust.

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You could walk around the grounds and view the very tame impala and other deer-like animals who would come right up to the edge of the dining area.  And the lodge has three very old lions – a brother and sister and their father (the mother died of old age last year, apparently) who seem to spend most of their time just lying around, looking as bored as only a cat can.  Then some of us took a short “game drive” with a guide.  No really big game at this lodge, but we did see zebra, warthog, sable, impala, several beautiful large birds and baboons.   And some enormous anthills!  I was not able to get pictures of everything from the bumpy van…but I did get some!  Anthills!A "zebra crossing"Tree grown around another treeAnd baby makes three...A sable

It was a wonderful way to end a week of orientation.  Today all the staff returned and we started to really plan the year!

My Zambian driving adventure…um…mishap.

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Today’s post was going to be all about how I drove to the Blue Lagoon National Park and saw awesome wildlife and birds and various flora and so on and so forth.

I set out around 9:00am planning to drive through the city and out west to this new game park that looked to be about 60 miles away on a decent road.   I was armed with a road atlas, plenty of water, snacks and a camera.  I navigated the city roads fairly well, choosing a route that took me around the busiest sections and carefully negotiating the rotary.  I drove out on the new (ie: paved) Mumbwa-Mongu road, following the directions I found on the “Best of Zambia” website and taking time to look around.  I turned at the sign to Nampundwe Konkola Coppermine, and began to look for the “Blue Lagoon” sign on the left which was supposed to come up in “several” kilometers.

Well, I never found it!  Either the directions were wrong, or the sign has gone missing…but I ended up driving all the way to the Coppermine!  I took a few pictures and turned back, passing a number of rustic huts, carts pulled by oxen and numerous goats along the side of the road.

When I finally got back to the city, I was congratulating myself on almost four hours of flawless driving.  I made a turn on what I thought was the road back, but it wasn’t.  I got a bit turned around, pulled over and checked the map.  Seems I was one road off.  So I cut over to what I THOUGHT (again) was the road towards home…Burma Road.

But it wasn’t.  It was Independence Highway.  A divided highway.  A detail I failed to notice (in spite of a car beeping behind me) until I had made the right turn into the left lane and saw the oncoming traffic.

There was nowhere to go.  I couldn’t get off to the side; there was a big ditch.  I couldn’t back up, there were cars coming across the lane.  The oncoming car beeped and braked and pulled to the right and for a brief moment I thought we might escape with a mere bump.  But…it was a bit more than that.  His front left headlight was smashed and my bumper was dashed in (and the radiator punctured.)

To make matters worse, the car that hit me was some kind of “classic” model car.   (Why couldn’t it have been another little Toyota?  On the other hand, it could have been a truck and I wouldn’t be typing this now!)  And the driver was hopping mad, especially when he saw that I was (obviously) not a Zambian.  He swore at me and threatened me and told me that I would have to buy the car right now!  I was fairly speechless, which was a good thing, and another gentleman who lived down the road stopped and got out of his car to help me and calm down the other driver.  A crowd gathered, the ubiquitous guards hovered around and people who were walking by all came up to peer at the damage and shake their heads.   The police were called and the officer who arrived was extremely professional and kind.  He drove me to the police station (after filling my radiator with enough water to get it there!) and I had to fill out a form that described the accident and pay a fee, since I was at fault.  I called my school and Martina (who handles housing and security) was wonderful – told me exactly what to do and not to do.  She said the school will help out getting the car towed from the Police Station to a garage and will bring the insurance papers down to the station.  The other driver had calmed down a bit (apparently he is some kind of well-known businessman) when he realized that I did have auto insurance and that I wasn’t going to be hopping on the next plane back to the states.  I also think he was scared at the time – he told me that if his brakes hadn’t worked as well as they did, I might be dead.  (And he was right.)

My head of school called me to make sure I was okay.  He said that while there have been more than a few car crashes involving staff, he thought I might be the first to do it before school even started.  A dubious honor.

So…I am okay.  My car has some minor damage which is going to be a headache for a little while.  But it could have been so much worse.  So much worse.  And hopefully the insurance will be able to procure the proper parts for the other driver’s classic car.

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A traditional Zambian feast with dancing!

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IMG_0980 IMG_0986 IMG_0976 IMG_0964We had a traditional Zambian dinner last night at the home of one of the orientation leaders. She has a fabulous home, filled with artifacts and art from Africa and all over the world. She has lived in Zambia for ten years, although I think she is originally from the UK.

There was a demonstration by a Zambian dance group.  The music was that incredible close harmony you hear with songs from South Africa.  That kind of singing makes my heart feel like bursting out of my chest and feels so….organic.  Like music of the earth itself.  Grounded.

Then there was a traditional dinner, with mieli-meal as a base (like a very thick corn porridge) prepared by two women in traditional dress over a coal fire.  There were lots of “relishes” to scoop up. A relish is simply anything you put on the nsima (which is what the meal is called when it’s cooked.)   You eat it with your hands – making a sort of round ball out of the nsima with an indentation in it and using that to scoop any relish you choose.  We had individual plates, although I suppose to be truly traditional, we would all have eaten from the common pot.

There was stewed beef, beans, chicken, various kinds of greens, eggplant and deep-fried caterpillar. (I tried them…very chewy and crispy and they tasted kind of like…caterpillar.)

A wonderful evening and a great finish to our week of “new teacher” orientation. Read the rest of this entry