A bit of a random post...

Yesterday I woke up & actually thought- “I would like to feel cold”. Yes, I know- shocking to those of you who know me well. But it has been unbearably hot for me of late. It’s funny, because the October heat should be over by now…& the rains should be here. The problem is that the last couple of days the clouds have set in, & it looks cold & ready to rain at any moment, but the heavens have refused to open & the close heat is killing this Alberta girl. Give me back the dry heat*giggling*. It rained for about 15 minutes last week at my training session; it was awful because it made the heat worse. The cool lasted only a few minutes, & in the post-drizzle of rain, the heat seemed to be pulled up from the ground. It’s absolutely stifling, & I literally feel it crawling up from my ankles to surround me.

Sounds rough eh, when most of you are putting on winter parkas*grin*- it’s not so bad!!

The other thing that continues to make me smile is that though the air is humid, the earth is parched. I was chuckling recently because of the heat I’ve constantly got a thin layer of shine over my body…then I ALWAYS have some lipscreen on my lips. Any tiny breeze sends the abundant dust in swirls around me & I find myself a shade darker from the dust. I lick my lips from the thirst that prevails this time of year, & find a mouthful of gritty dust. It’s BRUTAL, but somehow I love it!!

Another weekend - another funeral. I think I’ll take the opportunity to explain what Zambian funerals look like, as I’ve been to 4 in the past few months. Brutal, eh?

The funeral process if very unlike what I grew up with in Canada. Here, when somebody dies, a regular house is opened for mourning. (Sometimes it is the house in which that person lived; sometimes it is a different house- one that can host more people). When you visit a ‘funeral’ you will find a whole bunch of men outside, chatting, drinking, smoking or simply sitting. Inside the house all of the women are sitting or laying on mattresses or carpets. I think the house stays open for about 3 days. People come & go to pass their condolences onto the “chief mourners” while family & those who have traveled will remain at the funeral house for the duration. Then there’s the burial. This is like what we call funerals at home- a church service followed by the actual burying of the body. It’s all a bit overwhelming because the mourning is so open. We never wail back home (only on very tragic occasions), but here, every morning the women wake up & start wailing, as if to remind everyone why they have come together. I feel fortunate to never have to stay overnight, with the heat, the bugs, & the lack of pillows*light-hearted laugh*. No, it’s really awful…& I think that is probably because there seem to be so many funerals in this country.

I don’t really know how to wrap this up…I have a hard time expressing that I am really happy here amongst all of the pain of which I write. I think I’ll just leave it here before I start off on another tangent