In my first year of service I have learned so much about myself including the good and the bad.  Its never easy to accept your faults; It’s even harder trying to fix them.  One thing that has helped me grow are the friendships that I have formed here.  As much as this is a “self-fulfilling” journey, its also a time to embrace it with others.  I always enjoyed the quote from the book Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer, “Happiness is not real unless shared with others.”  Of course, you can still be happy doing things alone, but having someone by your side always makes it so much sweeter.  Whether its hitch hiking and traveling for 14 hours, it’s always nice to have someone by your side to make you laugh when your patience is wearing thin.  This is another Peace Corps moment, but its nice to actually just talk to someone who will actually listen and respond to you, unlike your wall spider in your hut.  Being able to look back and laugh at memories together is so much easier with another person.

When friends here come and go it’s hard to swallow.  You can’t imagine your service without them because that is all you have known.  Just as you are getting closer, someone has to say goodbye and remain, while the other is off to start a new journey in life. That’s life right?  Saying hello, then goodbye.  Sometimes I think this isn’t “real life” here.  In reality, its a an even more challenging, but great life.  There are just a lot more extremes it feels like.  We actually have time to reflect on our life here and try to make a better one.  Life isn’t easy no matter where you live.  What matters the most is to try to make others better and surround yourself with people who love and care for the person you are.  To all my friends who have come and gone here in Zambia, I can’t thank you enough for the memories and laughs we have shared.  And to all my friends who are still with me in this 27 month journey, we still have so many more laughs and memories to come in these next 10 months.

The next day we drove from Lusaka to Luapula which takes about 9 hours.  The hours passed as they viewed the endless african sky and sunset, against the lush green scenery when coming into Luapula.  My fellow Peace Corps friends warmly welcomed the Saria family plus 1 (Dave), with a lovely home made spaghetti dinner and tour of our Provincial House.  They charged all their gadgets and packed endless amount of Deet to take on the village the next day.

Three of my great friends came with my family to help assist me in the village and I couldn’t have done it without them.  They helped answer all their questions and concerns, as I was stressing to make sure my villagers were prepared for all the festivities.  Kels was a great organizer and made delicious meals for the fam.  Fresh broke the ice with her sweet dance moves and got us all dancing in front of hundreds of people.  Bob “The Legend,” regulated on the sea of iwes (kids) I have and also was under water control.  My family had no sense of conserving water and forgot that we have to pump water verse turn the faucet.  Thanks again friends!

Of course once we arrived in the village my community embraced them with warm greetings, lots of food, and drumming for the big dance party.  The family did a good job eating the local staple ‘nshima’ with their hands and fortunately no one choked on a fish bone.  My sister didn’t like the fish eyes staring at her, but still tried it.  We danced like we have never danced before as a family.  Who knew the soul train in 2011 would still be cool in front of 200 people?  My Dad was able to whistle and show that men can shake it too.  Now the villagers are always asking about my Dad and his dancing/whistling ways.

Inside my hut they enjoyed the slow paced village lifestyle by lounging on my reed mat and hammock.  My Mom of course enjoyed cleaning my hut and doing dishes.  My Dad loved fixing things for me again, by repairing my bike and setting rat traps everywhere.  Krista and Dave enjoyed being “Brangelina” in the village by playing with all the kids and holding the babies.  They were all freaked out by the bugs, rats, and using the pit latrine, but for the most part they did fairly well.  Mom struggled a bit, but for never camping she did the best she could.  My Dad could have stayed in the village with me for months and I’m still trying to convince him to do Peace Corps.

After the village, we went to Livingstone and saw Victoria Falls and took pictures right on the edge.  We even had breakfast on Livingstone Island and swam right on the edge where Dad showed off his ‘planking’ moves.   We also went white water rafting on the Zambezi which was a near death experience, but we lived to tell about it and now have a great story that Dave I’m sure tells so well.  The guides assured us that the crocodiles we saw sun bathing on the rocks were “vegetarians.”  After our traumatic experience, we flew to South Luangwa to go on a safari and stay in a luxurious tree house.  We took naps on big fluffy pillows and awoke to elephants drinking water about 5-feet away.  I also took advantage of the “all-inclusive” food service and it all felt like a reoccurring mefloquin dream.  It was a beautiful and peaceful place.  Saw beautiful wildlife and even better scenery with the gorgeous sunrise and sunset rides.

It was the best family vacation and maybe we will top it again in the Philippines 2013, but this was a special one.  It was great to be with my family again, as we laughed and argued.  How boring would a family vacation be if you didn’t did all of those?  I’m so blessed and thankful they were able to share this experience with me and now understand the way of life here.  Thank you guys for flying across the globe, stepping out of your comfort zone, and seeing the “Real Africa.”

Today was bad.  Real bad…I don’t know how any other person (not in Peace Corps) would have reacted to today’s events.  Where do I begin?  Oh yeah, today I sat along the road hitch hiking where it took me 6 hours to get back to my village (normally takes about 2 hours on a good day).  Three hours of waiting in the African sun and two sketchy vehicles later, I finally made it back to the village.  All I wanted to do was sweep my hut, unpack, bathe, and lay in my hammock.  None of those things happened today.  The moment I reached my steps to open my door I walked into hell.  I immediately saw nests of ants or imposhi’s swarming along the hallway (imposhis are people eating ants and they are BIG).  I thought well could be worst…I proceed to the kitchen to open the shudders and bring in the light to discover a disaster.  Along the left side of my wall and all the way up to the wooden beam are imposhi’s swarming and hissing!  Yes, hissing every time I got closer.  People eating ants!  My heart was pounding and immediately I start to freak out.  I start pacing all over the place and have no idea how I’m going to get rid of these creatures.

I start sweeping the tiny nests along the hallways which was a very bad idea, as they were going up my leg and attacking me.  As I was screaming and sweeping the rest away  I couldn’t take the piercing bites anymore, so I threw my broom down and called my PCVL (Peace Corps Volunteer Leader) Fresh.  I tell her I’m freaking out and have not a clue how I’m going to kill every last one of these death eaters.  She tells me to relax, do not sweep them, get some women to help me, and be careful because they eat people!  She also mentioned this problem might not go away for a couple of weeks, so I would have to wait it out.  I thought wait it out?  I can’ live like this I’m going to lose my mind!  I just kept thinking this house always has one thing after the next…Bats, rats, raining termites, concrete-eating termites, hole-making termites, flying ants, and now people eating ants!  I can’t imagine what’s next?  Spitting Cobra?

So, I call for my neighbors to begin the war of attacking and burning these creatures out of my house.  My neighbor, Mr. Stephen, makes a fire on the brazier, makes a border of salt around it, so the ants won’t bite his bare feet and pass the fire.  He then starts burning one of his children’s rubber sandals (probably their only pair) and tells me the ants do not like the smoke from the burnt rubber.  Next thing you know, all my little kids are helping as well and keep bringing tire tubes and ripping them apart, and lighting them on fire to kill the ants.  It took two hours, a lot of fire, a pair of sandals, and many tire tubes later to win the battle.  Oh and a lot of smoke that I was breathing in and now pretty sure I have the black lung.

I barely did a thing and just watched my neighbors fight the battle for me.  If my neighbors didn’t help me today, I probably would’ve burned my hut down.  I”m thankful for wonderful and caring neighbors and also thanking my lucky stars that the people eating ants didn’t eat me.

2. The Namesake by: Jhumpa Lahiri

3. Life of Pi by: Yann Martel

4. In the Time of Butterflies by: Julia Alvarez

5. The Girls of Riyadh by: Rajaa Alsanea

6. Beautiful Boy by: David Sheff

7. Naked by: David Sedaris

8. Dead Aid by: Dambisa Mayo

9. The Hand Maids Tale by: Margaret Atwood

10. By the River Piedra by: Paulo Coelho

Any suggestions?

May 11, 2011

Today I woke up to more than just roosters crowing in the background and children begging for me to come outside…I woke up to the sounds of women wailing nearby signifying the loss of the life in the village.  When a person dies in the village, you automatically know there has been a death and neighbors, friends, and other family members begin the mourning process by coming to the home to pay respect for that individual.  For outsiders like myself, it’s a very difficult time to understand why and how this could happen, especially to young children.  Death in the village is far too common among children as malaria, HIV, diarrhea, and malnutrition continues to ravage communities throughout Africa.

I have been very privileged and fortunate to never have experienced death in my family at this point in my life.  Today I experienced grief like I never have before.  As I opened my door and began my usual routine of making breakfast, Mr. Charles (my neighbor) came by to deliver the unfortunate news  that my favorite baby in the village Martha, passed away early in the morning.

Martha was one of the few babies in my village, who wouldn’t cry at the site of me; she would let me  hold her, cuddle her, and talk to her.  Her grandmother is a good friend and even taught me how to make nshima (staple food) my first weeks I arrived.  She has helped me immerse in the culture easier, as she invited me to many events in the community and always comes by to greet me as she passes my home.  Her grandmother, Macy, would love for me to hold baby Martha, talk to her English, and just make her smile with my goofy facial expressions.  Baby Martha was her pride and joy, as Martha’s mother is very young, so Macy was the one taking care of her, as her daughter would attend school.  Martha had these big dark eyes that you could easily get lost in;  her eyes always had the look of wonderment in them and no matter how tired or frustrated I was, I could easily get lost in those eyes and forget my troubles.

After I heard the news from Mr. Charles, I put my chitenge (pattern material you wrap around like a skirt) and headed over to Macy’s house.  Its customary for women to wear chitenges in the village.  During funerals the men are customarily found outside the home as the women are inside wailing.  I entered the hut and found several women sitting on bamboo reed mats sitting in  circle supporting one another.  I communicated with the women my sympathy and tried asking them where Macy and was told she was still at the boma about 50 km away.  I just kept thinking she had no idea about baby Martha’s death and would be absolutely heartbroken.  I sat with the women trying to speak Bemba and every word that came out of my mouth made them laugh.  I figured I was able to distract them from their sorrows by me trying to communicate my Bemblish to them.

Late in the afternoon, as we were sitting outside paying our respects to Baby Martha, Macy appeared from the road absolutely devastated.  Her tears and wails were for her little granddaughter that left this earth far too soon.  As I saw her grief and pain, tears began to stream down my face for baby Martha.  The women were confused why I wasn’t wailing with them, and told them that in our American culture we deal with our grief differently.   I entered the hut again, and found Macy laying on the reed mat crying.  I sat next to her, held her hand, and kept saying, “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”  We sat and mourned together for a baby who had so much hope and future in her eyes.  I will never forget sitting in a circle with these women crying together and supporting each other in a time of need.  I don’t have to speak fluent Bemba to communicate with these women; all it took was just for me to sit there with them and grieve for an innocent life lost.

Death in general and more specifically children dying from malaria, are far too common here. Losing a child is so common in rural areas, therefore large family sizes and replacement children are a constant theme.  Here in the rural areas, mother’s have maybe a day or two to grieve for their lost child.  The next day they are expected to continue to take care for their other children and work in the fields.  They have that one day to grieve and wail for their lost baby and the next day act like nothing ever happened.I
I won’t ever fathom how the women in developing countries continue to live in such despair and grief.  In the states, when a child dies, it is so rare and possibly one of the worst things that could happen.  Mothers of lost children in the states, forever deal with that grief every day of their life.

I only knew her for a short time, but will never forget those moments she was in my arms looking up at me with those tiny dark eyes that would brighten my soul.  May baby Martha forever rest-in-peace.

At our Camp GLOW in Mansa, we had 16 girls in grade 7/8 from various other volunteer’s villages as well as 8 mentors.  These mentors are supposed to help the Peace Corps volunteer and the girls to start “GLOW groups” in their villages and teach their communities about the topics learned at Camp.  To make this a sustainable project, we bring these mentors to better understand empowerment and women’s rights to bring back to the village.  All of our participants this year were incredibly active and involved in all of the sessions that we had.  Usually, Zambian women/girls are very shy and timid, but we had a wonderful group who were actively participating throughout the camp.

During the past couple of months preparing for Camp GLOW and even during it, I couldn’t help but think about my own “Camp” experiences growing up.  The Camps I attended whether they were basketball, soccer, or “in the woods,” when looking back on it, were very motivating and brought me confidence growing up.  Of course I didn’t think about the impact those various camps I attended had on me until now, but as I’m older  I have realized how important it is as youth to be exposed to those types of positive interactions.  Camps build confidence, motivate you, and allow you to discover the person you want to become, while having the summer of your life in the process.  I loved staying up all night talking and laughing, being close to the bonfire while roasting my marshmallow to make sweet-savory smores, and of course singing Camp songs and making new friends.  Our Camp GLOW was no different than any other summer camp in America.  These girls sang, danced, made new friendships, laughed, and of course learned more life skills than any other typical American child learns at Camp.  At Camp GLOW these girls faced their fears by voluntarily testing for HIV, talked about early pregnancy, the importance of education, and to aspire and make dreams and goals for the future.  This Camp is so much more than just sending our kid off while we work, or so the kids don’t watch TV on the couch all summer.  Camp GLOW is a powerful movement for girls in developing countries to discover and learn about gender equality.

I’m incredibly grateful and empowered to have met such an extraordinary group of girls and women who face harrowing challenges in their communities.  These girls and women face issues that we won’t ever be able to grasp or understand, but the moment you talk to them or share a laugh, they are just like any other typical girl at summer camp; they established new friendships in the process and had memories that will last a lifetime.  

I’m sure you’re all wondering what a typical day is like in the village and how I keep myself busy over here in Zambia.  Well, I will give you a schedule of my day-to- day life here and how I survive.  So, here you go:

MORNING

-Wake up usually around 6:30 or 7:am.  Usually, I’m awoken by roosters crowing and children waiting at the steps of my door saying, “Ba Tiffan, Ba Tiffan?”  I forgot to mention the majority of Zambians cannot pronounce the “Y” in my name, so now I’m going by “Tiffan.”  

-For breakfast I usually heat up my water the night before and put it in my thermos, so it remains hot all the way up til morning.   I have oatmeal everyday usually and on the weekends if I’m feeling creative, I make pancakes.  The  hot water I also use for coffee and tea.  A Thermos is a must- have for any of you volunteers in Zambia who do not have one.  You don’t have to light your brazier in the morning!  Saves a lot of time…I know we all have lots of time here, but you can enjoy the BBC on the radio without having to swing the brazier for 30 minutes.  For those in America, a brazier basically looks like a metal basket with holes in it that you add charcoal on the top.  The fastest way to light it is with firestarters or parafin and once you let that burn a bit, you then swing it to light all the coals.  This process could take 10-15 minutes on a good day and a really bad day 30-45 minutes. 

-After breakfast if its a week day, I usually will bike to the clinic by 8am on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  During this bike ride I’m constantly greeting people on the road saying, “Mwashibukeni Mukawai,” (Good morning) to usually everyone that passes me.  Its about a 1.5 mile bike ride, so it can get exhausting once I reach the clinic after all the greetings along the way.

 On these Tuesday and Friday mornings, I’m at the  clinic for anti-natals where I usually give a health talk or meet my EHT (Enviornmental health Technician) to discuss the week and any upcoming meetings we have with our Neighborhood Health Committees.  At anti-natals, I teach pregnant women about malaria prevention, HIV during pregnancy, nutrition, danger signs, and family planning.  I’m in the process of creating a better educational program for anti-natals and training 2 clinic staffs on all these various topics and even more.  Both of these clinic staff members can speak a bit of  English, so they translate a lot of what I say, but I do try to use Bemba and the women get a kick out of it just when I say a few words during my talk.  After we educate them about certain topics, I help the clinic staff members check each of the womens’ weight and we test all of them for HIV.  Every week I’m meeting more and more women who are 16 years old and pregnant, or a 45 year-old who is pregnant with her 9th child… 

-After I’m finished helping the staff enter data in the books, I usually bike home around 12:00 to make lunch. 

LUNCH

-Now when I get home, I’m usually greeted by all my little Iwe’s (kids) who want me to play with them, but I usually tell them to come back at 2:00 after I’m finished with lunch.  Majority of the time the kids hide in my insaka (gazebo) and just watch me prepare lunch, or read or sit on my steps.  If they’re behaving I will give them a piece of paper and markers to draw.  After one kid sees another coloring the whole village finds out and next thing you know, I have 25 kids wanting to color!  I usually cut it off at 5 kids now because markers started to disappear… 

-For lunch, if I’m feeling like I have energy I will start up the brazier, but most of the time I’m eating crackers and tuna for lunch or just peanut butter.  Lately, though since its rainy season, there has been avocados available so that’s been a nice addition to lunch.

-After lunch if I don’t have a meeting or have to go to the clinic, I usually read or write letters.   On the weekends, I usually try to teach the kids English and have art time or play cards.  The weekends are fun, as I’m usually just hanging around with the kids all day.  They will even stick around if I’m doing chores like laundry or sweeping my hut.  They’re very helpful and will sweep my yard or try to help me with dishes.  I’m rarely ever alone on my compound until the evening time.  I think I have the most children EVER!  You’ve seen the photos…I don’t mind the majority of the time, but I really know what its like to be a celebrity now. 

DINNER/EVENING

-At around 4pm is usually when I plan to take my daily bucket bath.  If its a hot day, I don’t bother to heat up water and just dump the water right in the bucket to enjoy a cold bath to cool off in.

-At 5pm is what I look forward to Monday-Friday…I try not to ever miss a day of “Border Crossings,” by Larry London, on Voice of America!  His request line and awesome music hits (at times), is a great way to end the day.  Usually all of the requests that get played on the air are Peace Corps Zambia volunteers and other volunteers all over Africa becasuse the majority do not have electricity.   I’m usually preparing dinner at this time and the kids are outside listening to the music and me trying to sing along.  If I really like the song and if its GAGA, I will run outside and dance for them.  I always get a standing ovation no matter how bad I sing or dance!  Last week, they enjoyed Shakira’s “Waka Waka” song and even danced with me rather than just watch me “try” to dance. 

-At around 6pm is usually when I eat dinner…Dinner usually takes up to an hour to almost 2 hours to make if I’m feeling creative.  If I’m my usual lame cook self, I make spaghetti or beans and rice.  If Im feeling creative I will just start cooking random things like fried soya or fried rice.  Those are the days when I usually have had nothing to do and feel like being creative chef.  My cooking has been a work in progress, but I have perfected fried soya and they taste just like chicken nuggets!  For those of you who do not know what soya is its basically dehydrated soya beens mashed up and look like little chicken strips.  Essentially, the good ones taste like  chicken, but I’ve gotten chicken bouillon cubes sent from the States and they have him here locally to buy.  I think I would starve if I didn’t have soya pieces, so I’m very thankful for them and will probably miss them when I go back to the States.

*I forgot to mention the days thatI get invited for meals by my headwoman or neighbors are the best,  as those are the days where I don’t have to cook!  I eat a typical Zambian meal with them that includes ubwali or fish.  Its a great cultural exchange, as they love watching me eat ubwali with my hands and nearly choke on fish bones every time.  The village really envokes the aspect of community living; we are constantly sharing whatever we have to offer to one another and in the end its a wonderful cultural exchange.  I will make popcorn, rice, or spaghetti for neighbors at times and I enjoy watching them eat it as well.  Especially, the spaghetti as they’ve never seen or tasted that type of food before. 

-After dinner, I’m usally listening to BBC news or just reading in my hut by candle light.  Remember, that I have a huge hut, so I usually am relaxing in my “sitting room” where currently its my favorite room.  I have a world map pinned up to my mud brick walls and pictures from my friends and family back at home.  The room makes me feel like home and I love relaxing and decompressing the day by laying on my reed mat.  Since, I’m still waiting for my carpenter to finish my furniture, I’m still chillin on the floors, but I’ve gotten used to it.  I actually have a hammock that a friend here so graciously donated to me, so I’m looking forward to reading in it and putting it up when I get back.  I do a lot of reading here and I think I’m averaging a book a week…So, if you have any good book recommendations feel free to tell me

BED TIME

-I’m 23 years-old and go to bed at 8pm…When the bats were in my hut I would scramble to bed by 7pm!  But after successfully chasing them with a big stick, I finally got those creatures out of there.  It’s not the typical after-college life a normal 23 year-old experiences, but I make up for it with all the adventures that I go on in this country and beyond. 

So, that’s my life here in Zambia in a nut shell.  It feels like home more and more in the village everyday…As the months are passing by I still can’t believe I’ve been here for almost 8 months.  I’ve made some incredible friends here and so thankful for each and every one of them.  A good laugh or just sharing our stories and relating with one another makes it so much easier.  To my friends and family back at home, there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think of you all…You are constantly in my heart and thoughts whether I’m biking or just pondering past memories laying in my hut.