Where to start?

Well, I certainly have a lot to say…& have been delaying this post perhaps because I don’t know how to include all that I need to say. Please be patient while reading this post that will undoubtedly become disjointed.

I guess I’ll start where I am. It’s about 10:30 pm, I’m fresh out of the bath & typing away on my new laptop. Yes, a reality that should encourage me to write more…but I haven’t opened it since landing back in Lusaka Sunday afternoon. (Part of the reason for that could be a bizarre drive to finish reading Uncle Tom’s Cabin before allowing myself other simple pleasures). Classics, gah.

Yesterday I grinned all morning. As I brushed my teeth I adored the cacophony of dogs & chickens outside my window. Everything looked fresh & open on my walk to work; everything was new & exciting after 3 weeks away. Today, the shine wore off a bit with what may have been a dose of jet lag:-).

Something must have exploded in my body during the 36 hour plane ride back to Lu because I went from everybody back home telling me I looked great, slim & happy to Zambians commenting on my growing girth. Getting dressed for work I was horrified as I struggled to do up the zipper on my skirt- where did all the fat come from overnight?! My suspicions about having gained weight while home were re-confirmed when one of my colleagues said “You’ve grown big”, and one of the guards opened the car gate for me instead of the pedestrian gate “since I’m now fat”. Horrors. Thank goodness the hot season is on its way, I’m sure I’ll drop a couple pounds by bloating myself on ice cold water…my obsession when Lusaka steams up*giggling*

Part of the delay to write has to do with the fact that I have no idea how to thank everyone who contributed to me having a brilliant trip back home. I was so touched by both the little & large efforts of people to be in touch with Alvin & me during our brief stay at my parents’ place. It was flattering & humbling to have so many loving people inquiring about our lives back in Zambia.

My last excuse (promise) is that office life is upside down. We all know after a 3 week holiday how many messages land in the ole inbox…but for me, there’s another complication. While home I heard news that one of my colleagues passed away. Chola worked for the Program Support Unit (directly supporting the Aid Section where I work). Chola & I had worked closely for sometime. Her absence has affected all of us in the office. Sadly, I was unable to attend her funeral as I was still in Canada; I feel no sense of closure & have caught myself picking up the phone to ask her a quick question several times in the past two days. Chola was a special woman; described often as the heart & soul of the PSU. Anyone who passed through the office would remember her for her professionalism, drive, and hearty laugh. If something needed to get done, one only needed to ask Chola, an incredibly efficient and reliable person. A few sentences on my blog seem rather like an affront to the dynamism of Chola. Like I mentioned, selfishly I miss her; but mostly I feel for her family- she left her mother, siblings & two sons. I can’t imagine how her close friends & colleagues are dealing with her loss. September will be a tough month as several members from our team at CIDA HQ (who all knew Chola well) will be visiting- we will long feel her loss.

On this sober note, I shall close this post. It’s getting late & I will regret staying up past my bedtime when my alarm rings tomorrow at 5:15*grin*.
Once more, a humble thanks to everyone who traveled, called, or found a few minutes to visit with me while back in St.Albert. Everything was (and still is) a bit overwhelming. Thanks for your patience also, as I attempt to fall back into routine. Goodnight.

Jasper

Three years away from the mighty Canadian Rockies is hard on any prairie girl...so thanks to Marty, Tom & Devyn for making this trip happen! (And of course my dear Pop for lending us the Suburban). And Carly, thanks for spending your 20-something-th birthday with us!! Too much fun.

Here we are settling into camp.



Marty & I heading to (is it) Edith Cavell glacier? Or Angel glacier- I'll never get it straight*grin*



Car & Al & oooh those mountains*sigh*


Alvin was given the name "The ice whisperer" (Thanks Devyn)!!


We oohed & aahhed up & down Maligne Canyon...then as we were leaving I caught a glimpse of the skyline. I feasted my eyes & olfactory senses for the couple days we were there...couldn't ask for too much more!

Strawberries & Cream

What's a trip home without your favourite foods?! Everyday I have fresh strawberries, raspberries or blueberries. I'm drowning in gluttony but trying to make up for almost 2 years berry-free. My morning Cheerios (which I also can't find in Zed) always start my day out right!

Other than food (yes, I know it sounds shallow), I have been SO lucky to make the most of my time with family & friends! My cousin Al & Aunty Martha made a quick turnaround trip from Saskatoon, while cousin Marty & Tom & his Devyn planned a killer trip to Jasper. I could mention all the friends who have made long drives & altered their schedules to make time for me & Alvin, but then I'd forget someone & feel like an ass. A few of them are in the photos below, but some managed to escape the freeze frame. I've found that the beauty of visiting after some time is that it doesn't really feel like I've ever been gone*smile*

So far, I can only thank everyone who has made the time to call and/or meet up with Alvin & me. We've been SPOILED! Here are a few shots of the past week & a half, as we gear up for another week of adventure.



The girls enjoying Heritage Days. Except for the shirtless morons.





LAKE DAY!!!- with Pop, Alvin & Marty. I revelled in a quick trip to the lake. I sure felt wobbly on the skis after 2 years...but I still loved every moment.


Nothing like a good match of drunken Cranium, a hysterical tradition.


We're just missing Clara...





A stop at the "Leg grounds" while we toured Edmonton.

Out to lunch

If there's one thing I haven't gotten used to in Lusaka, it's the lack of park space. Every now and again I feel the need to picnic, or be "out of the city" while still being in the city. All the parks in Lusaka have an entrance fee, which I find a bit bizarre, but I also cherish time spent in an area with no one hollering "mzungu", "madam", or "taxi".
Recently Alvin & I hit a park I'd never visited before called Dream Valley. It had its advantages...but was a bit strange with manure spread on top of the grass to encourage its growth...and random chickens skulking around.


The best bit about the chicken was that it didn't seem bothered that I had one of its relatives beautifully grilled on my plate!

Gorgeous though...

Christmas in July- 2007

For anyone who has ever attempted to send a parcel to Zambia, you’ll be sympathetic to this story! The Zambian postal service is (very politely) ‘unpredictable’. Packages & letters can take between one month and twelve to arrive! My friend Sarah's mom sent her a Christmas package that arrived months after Christmas- surprise! Fortunately for those of us who befriended Sarah, we benefited from the Christmas decorations & crackers this July. We had such a fun evening listening to Christmas music & eating divine food.





More than anything, (except maybe the wine) I enjoyed what Kakoma called "Millionaire's shortbread". I asked him what it was & he said "Well, you know ordinary shortbread"? Me, "Yeah, sure". Kakoma: "This has one layer of shortbread, one layer caramel, topped with chocolate". I nearly died after my first bite. I'm still waiting for the recipe...too divine. (And I've never before tasted a Zambian man's baking; cooking yes, but never a sweet course. He set the bar high)!

Zambian Gatorade

I've given up superstition! Friday the 13th was probably one of the funnest days I can remember; gone are the days of holding my breath past graveyards and avoiding walking under ladders.

Ok, maybe I haven't gone so far...black cats are still ominous.

Breakthrough Sports Academy threw it's second "drop in sports camp" of the year on the afternoon of Friday the 13th. There are a few reasons things didn't go exactly as I had hoped, but here, I mean only to highlight the beauty of the day.

I met up with my colleagues and we set off through various shanty compounds (townships) en route to "Tamanga Ground". BSA is split over three main grounds, we held the first camp in Garden compound at Kampala ground, so this camp was set for Tamanga ground in Emmasdale.

Three of us arrived at the grounds a bit later than the group who was facilitating the camp. Here's what we found:




We noticed countless kids watching the activity. We asked a couple of our coaches who weren't doing anything to get the kids into action. And action there was!



Zilole entertained countless kids with "bustele"- these are games, songs, & dances that every Zambian kid seems to know. I love watching Zilole lead children's activities...the kids simply adore him!

George also initiated a game of "Team Handball". I've never played this game before but couldn't resist- it was so fun! It's like soccer except without kicking the ball, the ball is passed hand to hand. Goals are scored by headers...brilliant.







After all the running, laughing & singing amidst the blowing dust we were all parched. About five of us headed back to the BSA office together. Mutale stopped to buy us all sugar cane to celebrate the fun we'd just had. As we ripped into the fresh cut cane, I couldn't help but think "ahh, Zambian Gatorade". There was nothing that would have brought life back to my taste buds better than the sugar cane. I don't think my smile faded throughout the afternoon.

Aside: There is a version of gatorade here called Energade. I'm quite sure it's made by Coca-Cola & it tastes just like energy drinks back home. But I never would have had so much fun pounding back a bottled drink while winding back through Mtonyo, Garden & Luangwa compounds, as I did sharing stories of the day in between bites of the succulent sugar cane.

Here are a few shots of the winning Under-18 team from last weekend's (June 30 & July 2nd) Youth Basketball League's mid-season tournament. Unfortunately, no one was taking photos of the final matches, so these are from the preliminary round.

The box out*grin*


Working our offense with a handoff play.


Mengo in mid jump shot.


Tournament Most Valuable Player: Chichi (Martin) from the foul line.


Our up-&-coming Under 15 team had their debut at the same tournament. Their first game was against the tournament's winning team in the U15 category. (We are in yellow, the winners of the tourney are dressed in blue). They faced two tough teams; which was unfortunately hard on the morale. But it's back to the drawing board for them. Here they are looking a bit nervous.

Canada Day 2007

No matter how far from home, I can never forget Canada Day, one of my favourite all time celebrations.
Somehow (in the dead of a freezing cold winter in Lusaka), we managed to have absolutely perfect weather for July 1st. Since things were a bit hectic with work & my BSA basketball team was in a tournament all day Saturday (which actually spilt over to Monday morning for the semi-final & final matches...my team won the whole tournament*whoop whoop*!! I'm only sad because I missed the final game...but I'm looking forward to hearing all the details this evening. The boys really surprised me as we had to beat two teams we've never beaten before. I can't wait to see the champs!!)

Right, I digress. So my Canada celebrations were set to be small due to my hectic weekend schedule. Frisbee, beers, roast chicken & veg and mashed potatoes. Here are some shots of Canada-Day-like weather in Lusaka.

Just getting a couple beers down on the 'patio' before hitting the lawn for some frisbee...



Sarah in action



I must not be much of a basektballer anymore...all of that reach & my foot is still on the ground*hahaha*



Alvin's cousins brought over their new puppy Frodo. I fell in love until he peed in my house. Twice. Grrr.

Me, thankful for Laura Bush’s trip to Zambia?!?

When there’s a moment in the office, all of the gossip is surrounding the highly secure visit of George Bush’s wife to the Government of the Republic of Zambia. “Can you believe they brought in FIFTEEN of their own vehicles” one colleague commented. Thank goodness we were stopped at a red light when a convoy of massive American vehicles flew past Alvin & me. We were struck by the size & speed of the vehicles; there were modern GMC Surburbans & those massive Ford trucks that you can only find in red-neck North America.

But the purpose of this post is not to dig my heels into the audacity of her visit (or the limitations on how American dollars are spent in ‘fighting disease’ in Zambia.) But as a side note- can ANYone explain to me just how one would believe that abstinence-only education is an effective way to fight sexually transmitted infections? Because I, for one, disagree whole-heartedly; to best illustrate my point, I was thinking way back to the days spent at Bellerose Composite high school. I was in the change room with my basketball team & one of the girls said “Don’t look” when she went to remove her shirt. Everyone in the change room swivelled to face the girl who had asked us all NOT to look. We ended up killing ourselves laughing at how one’s immediate reaction when told NOT to do something, is to go & do it & find out for yourself why it was forbidden. Now input sex education…abstinence-only- Gah.

But back to my story- the goodness of Bush’s trip to Lusaka. Yesterday when I knocked off from work I was enjoying a warm walk home (despite the chill in the winter air) until I noticed a man who looked a bit mad following me home. I never worry when I can hear the people, or predict why they might be following me. This man was walking much slower than me, so when he decided to catch up I could hear his loose pata-patas (flip flops) smacking loudly against the asphalt in his uneven attempt at a jog. Once he was just behind me, he would start walking again, so the gap would stretch between us. Ages ago, I had a bit of an altercation with a (possibly) schizophrenic drunk man, so whenever people approach me who appear mad, I am cautious (I’m not paranoid…but this guy wasn’t quite right in the head, therefore rather unpredictable).

I decided as long as I was on a busy street I would have no problems. There was a bit of a gap in pedestrian traffic as I was approaching an intersection with Addis Ababa Road (a well-paved, high traffic road). On the corner I noticed a trio of cops. Never in my life (in ANY country) have I ever been so thrilled to see policemen & women. As I neared, one of the policewomen said “Good afternoon”. I jumped at the chance for some friendly conversation & chatted with the threesome until the crazy man had passed (who promptly waited for me a few steps away from my new-found security friends). I desperately looked down Addis for hope of escape. Imagine a slow wide grin spreading across my face. Hahaha: Bush is on the move, which means cops are posted on every corner to prevent incident & stop the traffic! I giggled & laughed & greeted ALL of the cops on my way down the street. The crazy man became discouraged & turned down another road in search of a new adventure.

I suppose I owe the excessive Americans a vote of thanks...Happy 4th of July*giggling*

Perhaps I've hit a new low

Right, so I know this is pathetic...but I am SO excited about the candle holders I recently purchased. I don't know what took me so long to finally give in & buy them...but aren't they great?! There's drummer & a warrior. I light them everyday. Sometimes twice a day. I wonder when the thrill will wear off*giggling*

Alvin's birthday

Kudos to my Canadian girls who dressed & made me up...we had a beautiful birthday celebration! Here we are:

I’m a fighter…

Despite my pacifist Mennonite heritage, I have officially become a fighter! After posting a nicey-nice story (obviously not the one about peeing), I thought I would write about a scenario in which I found myself scared.

As I have previously posted, some of the ladies & I got a little bit silly at a Bob Marley tribute. Initially I was a bit apprehensive to go because I was worried that the Rastas would get upset that this whitey (whose ancestors-arguably- had contributed to the whole Ras tafari movement) would dare attend such a gathering. Realistically, I’m the bad guy, right? It was people of my skin colour that made life a living hell for millions of people who did not have the same skin tones. But I swallowed my apprehension & hopped on the band wagon (especially because there is a lot of One Love talk from good ol’ Bobby).

As expected, as the night wore on, people became belligerent on drugs & alcohol. That was about the time I was putting on the pressure to leave the park. So the line up of beautiful (if tipsy) women started making our way to the entrance to leave the celebrations. Unfortunately, the entrance was blocked & security told us the only way to exit the park was through a little muddy lane on the other side of the park. (This exit doubled as an illegal entry…& a man literally had to catapult me & the girls over the chain link fence that screamed illegal entrance).

En route to the shady exit I felt someone roughly grab my forearm. I turned around with the expectation that it would be someone I knew, grasping me tightly for a joke. I came face-to-face with an angry dark face. That night, I wasn’t having it. “What the bleep is your problem”, I screamed at him to be heard over the music. I couldn’t make out what he was saying but it was something about whites leaving the black continent bladdy-blah. I took another look at his face & grabbed his forearm (with my free hand) with all of my might & said “This is my bleeping problem”. With no facial expression whatsoever, he dropped my arm & we proceeded to the ‘exit’. I was upset, and a bit shaky, but upon reflection, it feels great to know that a little ‘fight back’ in the potential face of violence can deter an aggressor.

I’ve never done anything like that in my life. Cue Beyonce, I’m out

Pissing like a racehorse

A whole new meaning. (Sorry for using profanity…but ‘peeing’ like a racehorse simply doesn’t carry the same ring).

I’ve always been amused by the fact that anywhere you walk in Lusaka, there’s going to be a man discreetly peeing somewhere. My favourite are those who pile out of their cars (inevitably on Friday evenings or anytime Saturday or Sunday after a few too many alcoholic bevies) & pee right by the roadside. Surprisingly, I’ve never been heckled nor had an uncomfortable experience by someone who is relieving himself publicly.

Sometime back I had caught a ride into work with Alvin & was keeping my self busy peering out the window. There was a woman standing awkwardly on the side of a busy side-street. Her skirt is hiked up to her knees & she’s casually watching the traffic passing. As my chin drops in shock, my forehead hits the window & I’m thinking “She’s pissing; standing up in a skirt alongside a busy road”. That was a first. And for those of you who know Zambia…she was NOT in chitenge, but in a jean skirt- all the more unusual!

I love women here, dressed to the nines, plodding slowly to their working place in ridiculously high heels. Not missing a stride to blow a snot rocket or apparently, to piss like a race horse.
What will I do for entertainment when I come home this summer?!*hahahaha*

Ba shikulu…this is Lusaka!

When people who don’t know Africa discover I’m living in Zambia, the reaction is “You’re so brave”, and “Is it safe” etc. I find this endlessly amusing, as I am convinced that Lusaka is a much safer city than most Canadian cities. Granted, I do stand out & could be regarded as a target for mugging- but that has only ever happened to me once or twice. I have a brilliant example (& yes, this is characteristic of Lusaka only…there are several brutal & rough African cities in which I would not move around with so much confidence) of the kindness I have experienced here.

I was coming home after coaching at BSA one evening. The sun had dropped (as it does so quickly here), & I found myself rushing home so as not to be moving around when it’s dark dark- “Dark dark” refers to late night dark, not the dark that is only beginning to settle in after sunset. (Sorry mom & dad, I do try to avoid walking after dark but it takes me about 20 minutes to walk home from the grounds…& the sun sets in 15)*grin*. So I was being careful & checking to see if any shady figures were watching me from afar. But I have this small problem with night vision. All of the shadows confuse the potholes & I end up walking like a fool, high stepping through the darkness hoping not to trip on a rock or fall into a hole. (And there are about a bazillion potholes on the short dirt road that leads to my flat). I was literally on the other side of the road from my flat when an elderly man came up from behind & asked me if I was all right, asking why I couldn’t see my way. I kind of chuckled, this is one of those ancient African men who probably has glaucoma, & he realized I couldn’t see where I was stepping. He simply said “Follow my footsteps, you’re safe. I’ll walk you home”. I had to chuckle & say “Zicomo ba shikulu, but I’ve reached”, as I stumbled across the road into the safety of the well-lit yard. I only heard his soft chuckle as he set off at what would have been a break-neck pace for me.

NB: Shikulu means Grandfather; it is a respectful way to address an elder.

Bob Marley tribute

Here are the photos from the most recent girls night...We drank enough liquor while buried under the haze of the 'legal for the night' "dagga". Ganja. Pot. Marijuana.


This is my bululu (family). Kupela & Namukolo




Can you see the size of that??? Laurane & Kupela are subtly posing for the camera to include the 81/2 x 11 inch joint.

The art of relaxation

It seems I may not have mastered any meditation or strenuous yoga poses…but I do what I can. Armed with the yoga book Faizal gave to me before returning to Zambia, & my mother’s long-forgotten yoga mat I have recommenced practicing yoga. Solo.

Last night I was going through the poses & hit one of the relaxing poses: I’m laying face down, legs spread, and forehead resting upon forearms. I jerk my head up & immediately wipe my mouth when some noisy mosquito disturbed my slumber. Little puddle of drool & all- Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh. I left the yoga mat, took a quick bath & let myself sleep for the night. And yeah…it was probably around 20h30*giggling*.

A little bit of this, & a little bit of that

The latest:

1. I have to upload photos from the crazy girls night I recently had. We decided to brave a Bob Marley tribute & it was ridiculous. After a box of wine & a pony key of Mosi...every little thing was all right! I promise photos

2. Dear friends have recently been inquiring about Aid to Africa. I feel like I'm in the luckiest spot ever. I'm working under CIDA, therefore I'm slowly getting insight into the policies, bureaucracies & funding modalities at the International level. On the other hand, I am so deeply involved with Breakthrough Sports Academy, a small Community based organization that works in sports for development from the grass root. One day all of my experiences will come together & I'll be able to make a statement on my beliefs in International Development- more specifically within Lusaka. There's a lot of good, a lot of bad, plenty of frustrations & endless hope. That's as far as I've gotten*grin*

3. There's lots of excitement for me with North American visitors. There'll certainly be photos to come.

4. Spa day: entailed haircut + pedicure with my partner in crime Sarah. The haircut is much better than the last one so I will also have to send a photo if I ever do my hair up nicely (right now it's under cap after a glorious morning in the hot sun).

Best to all. I miss blogging more regularly & hope for some photo updates soon!
How many more days till my arrival in Edmonton??!!! (Still can't wait)!

A blog for books

I’ve been involved in a few comical adventures of late, but I feel like writing about books today. So forget about my basketball team’s opening league game loss by 40 points, forget about the hell of a horseback ride I went for (chasing giraffes) that left my hands with blisters from holding on for dear life, & I’ll pause on all that is up & coming to share what I’ve been reading of late.

I thought maybe Google Reads would provide an outlet where I could post on my blog my recent reads. But all of this touring & background information on particular sites makes my head spin…so I’ll do it the old fashioned way*smile*

Quite possibly two of the things I miss most from home- apart from family & friends of course- are: a) a good library, & b) beautiful second hand book stores. I have managed some book swaps that have opened my eyes to books I never would have chosen to read. The advantage of having Zambian friends from well-educated families is that there are bookshelves full of African literature! (Something I never felt I had access to back home). One of my favourite recent authors is Kenyan NGUGI (he has “~ “ those things on top of the “G’s” in his name)*giggling*. I read A grain of wheat & savoured the fact that this author is Kenyan, educated in Uganda. So many of the African authors I’d previously read had been educated outside the continent. I felt Ngugi’s fiction provides a different take on colonial times...& I had just returned from Nairobi so anything Kenyan was/is fascinating. I also read a book whose title escapes me by a female lawyer from Botswana named Unity Dow. Again, an intimate look at African life from an African perspective, & in this case a rarely heard female voice- beautiful!

A second genre; books on Africa by non-Africans

At desperate times, with no other books on my shelf, I finally cracked open Shake hands with the devil. Romeo Dallaire blew me away during my second attempt to read the epic. One of the heaviest books I’ve ever read, but it was a much overdue “must read”. And then there was the bizarre White Masai…so strange that I would love to read the sequels*chuckling*.

Outside of African literature, I’ve been reading everything from David Baldacci to Roddy Doyle & I’m currently racing to finish Heather O’Neill’s lullabies for little criminals set in Montreal. I love that this Canada Reads book ended up in my hands, & that Roddy Doyle’s A Star called Henry took me back to the bleak beginnings of Irelands notorious IRA. Forever a bookworm, I still love been deported to mysterious corners of the world…set in timescapes I’ll never know. Now if only I had more time to read.

Been in Africa too long...

Oh dear, I just went to turn of the air conditioning in my office because I'm feeling a bit chilly. The A/C is supposed to be maintaing a temperature of 26 degrees Celsius...

Perhaps I have been here too long?! And it's not even cold season yet & I'm whining!!

Neglecting my blog

Well it feels like I haven't written in ages, but it's only been a week since my last post.
I think I have writer's block. There's so much happening for me right now, I just feel like nothing is important enough to share*giggle*

That being said, the first match of Cranium I've ever played in Lusaka did touchdown Tuesday evening. There was a lot going on...so it wasn't the best game, & then since we didn't drink enough wine, we became tired instead of rowdy. I think we'll plan a tournament & I'll try to document the excitement via photos!

Yup, guess things aren't that exciting. I'm just loving the humdrum of routine right now. More when I've a good story to report.

Oh, the update on Breakthrough Sports Academy Basketball. The girls commitment is still up & down, but I have so much to learn from Coach Alinafe's patience. Some days he has 1 girl, other days he has 6. In the meantime (which is the good news), the Under 15 boys team has started training this week! And Alinafe's response to my question about whether or not he's frustrated was: "Now I have the boys to work with, & the girls will come". Kudos Ali!!