For evan

Because i don't have your email with me as i sit at icy spicy waiting
for my veg pie and i can't remember when you fly.

No need for music on the plane because the in.flight entertainment
system comes with a million music channels. But alas there is no
laptop plug. But lots of movies! And snacks!

A correction

My niece is eleven, not twelve. Thanks for pointing that out, mom.

Trevor's birthday is coming up thursday. Mom says they're mailing a
card tomorrow. If it makes it here on time it will be a postal
miracle. We're still getting christmas presents, so whatever.

Look!

I often feel like the star of a magazine feature: look, white people
are like us! When i was waiting for a taxi just now eating roast corn
a guy called out, you are eating! I have had it pointed out that i am
walking, exercising, shopping, knitting.

This morning in another taxi i was shocked myself when a fellow
passenger puked out the window. I thought wow, this road makes
Zambians sick too?

Plans

I had arranged to meet the ladies of chickalipo village today at noon
to teach crazy quilting, but either they forgot or didn't believe i
would come because when i showed up everyone was working on the new
pig pen. Anyway zambia meetings start two hours late minimum so i was
crazy early. But they unleashed the zambia hospitality on me. I ate
Shima and beans and okra, and a daughter escorted me home. I will show
up again next week, but much later. Unless i'm hungry.

Laundry

Washing clothes has been on my to do list all week but it hasn't
stopped raining long enough until today. It has been too cold and wet
to bathe as well. One benefit is that dirty hair stays in a ponytail
better. And Trevor is not here to smell me, though i suspect he would
have told me about the big smudge of soot That's been on my face
probably all week.

Run run run

This morning I dragged myself out of bed for a run and was rewarded by the completely unexpected sight of another runner.!! This is the first time I have ever seen another person running in Zambia, besides people who are clearly just In A Hurry and the kids who sometimes romp alongside me for a few yards, laughing hysterically.

This other runner looked burly. I speculated that he's a famous athlete in town visiting family, like I read about sometimes in Runners World. I was just happy that the two times we passed each other I was not taking a walk break.

I'm still running my way through the Terry Gross interviews. Today, Michael Caine and the poet Billy Collins. Terry fawned over Collins like a teenage girl. It was very un-Terry Gross.

Anxiously awaiting

The next group of Zambia volunteers is in their last week of packing, preparing, saying goodbye to home, and generally freaking out. Even though it was a year ago for us, I remember that combination of excitement and terror all too well. If anybody out there reading this is in that group, don't worry! We have everything you need here and we can't wait to meet you!

Lately I've been thinking a lot about the passage of time and how un-busy I am here compared to how much I flailed in America. It's so pervasive in American culture that even my 12-year-old niece emailed recently to complain about how busy she is. When I wrote to ask her why, she responded with one word: HOMEWORK!

I miss many things about home, but busyness stress is one thing I would gladly do without forever

Wheat paste

I had planned to stay home anyway, but the rain made the decision that much easier. I took advantage by whipping up a craft that's been on my to-do list for a long time: wheat paste.

The paste is flour, sugar and water, cooked into a gelatinous goo. To test it out, I made a sample pinata (which refuses to dry out) and pasted a couple of magazine pictures and a charming letter from one of my third-grade pen pals on the wall. I'm waiting to see if the paste attracts more bugs than we already host. If it doesn't create a disaster, I'll collage every empty surface. I figure I should take advantage of having a house where I can glue random crap all over the walls, right?

Directions

Not surprisingly, none of the dirt roads around here are signposted, so yesterday on my ride to Mangwe village, 22 km from home, I was flummoxed every time the road forked. The second time I took bad advice that led me down what turned out to be the wrong path, I remembered the cardinal rule of asking directions, which is: Never ask anybody under 20.

This rule was promptly broken when I finally arrived in Mangwe. After standing for a few minutes to marvel at the harmonies coming from the Catholic church, I stopped in at the first tuck shop and said I was looking for Helen Singogo. The shopkeeper called over a random 10-year-old strolling by with his friend, and they led me another kilometer through the village and behind the defunct tobacco factory, right up to Helen's door.

Candy

I just looked at my calendar and realized that it's nearly Valentine's Day. Naturally, this made me think about all the wonderful sweetness available in the USA around this time. (And every holiday; let's face it.)

If somebody wanted to pick up a bag of those conversation hearts on a post-Valentine's day closeout, they would find some very appreciative fans in Zambia.

I am not looking forward to a very sweet holiday here in Zambia-- not only are there no restaurants for a romantic night out, but Trevor will most likely still be en route from Lusaka. It will just be me and a couple of fleabag dogs. And no candy. Harumph.

About the weather

I know i have moaned about the weather too much lately but can i gloat
a little now? When It's not pissing rain or drizzling the sky is clear
blue, It's eighty degrees with a clean breeze. Feels like missouri
late summer. I just want to stand with my face to the sun.

Also Trevor's dad sent his new running shoes crammed full of delights
like peanut butter pretzal clif bar - who knew?- and cheese crackers.
I hope Trevor gets home while There's still some left..

Alone

Trevor left this morning for a week in Lusaka. To combat the lonesome
and boredom of a Trevor free week, i plan to stay busy. I just rode to
town for mail and fetched the shoes he has been awaiting. Luckily
before he left, i extracted permission to paw through all packages for
sweets.

Success

Days like today make up for the many frustrating ones.

This morning I had a visit from Elizabeth of the Musalila Women's Cooperative. She showed me the zippered crazy-quilt bags they have made and embroidered like mad. They're lumpy, funky and gorgeous. The women are so excited about sewing that they've already started on more projects, completely without me.

I also handed off a crammed Columbia blue bag of donated yarn to a villager who is teaching fellow HIV-positive women to crochet to earn money. She is excited about the animal patterns.
When we meet next week, I'll pass off patterns to her. Thrills!

Blue bag

I've been thinking about how nutty it probably sounds that I am in love with city of Columbia blue recycling bags. But honestly, they're the best bags in the world. They were my friend on the Appalachian Trail and I love them even more in Africa.

When we did laundry the other day, we used one to pre-soak our sheets while we scrubbed the other clothes. I ask you, what wimpy plastic bag could hold up?

They're good for storage, too. We live in a house with no closets but an abundance of moisture and termites. Our extra blanket lives in a blue bag, tied tight and shoved under the bed. The yarn for the HIV-positive group has spent the past few months awaiting handoff snug and dry in yet another blue bag, despite being dripped on by one of the many roof leaks. I love the bags so much that I briefly considered giving away the yarn but keeping the bag, but I realized that would be obnoxious.

Maybe I should start a Facebook group and see if anybody else out there is a fan.

Caterpillars

This morning we washed a record amount of laundry. If the rain holds a
few more hours it may actually dry. I hope so, because last week's
clothes, which stayed wet most of the week, smell like old cheese.

As we hung up the clothes, Amai came home with her morning harvest, a
huge squirming pot of caterpillars the size of my toes. I fear we will
be invited over later to partake. I can understand why she would eat
them. I too am growing tired of the market's slim pickings of tomato,
okra, green beans. Every day.

Oddments

Trevor received a birthday package (early!!) from his ex-step-mom Tanya. It was a wonderfully random assortment of things that show how well she knows us, including (among other things) coffee candy (I had forgotten how delicious that stuff is), pages from our hometown newspaper, giant plastic cups from one of the best pizza places on the planet, a PedNet t-shirt, sticky notes from the public library, a travel magazine from Minnesota that has me jonesing for the Boundary Waters.

We're like kids who are as excited about the cardboard box as the toy inside. One of my favorite items in Tanya's package was the recycling blue bag she wrapped everything in. Living in a grass-roofed house during the rainy season, we covet huge, thick plastic bag. Columbia makes the best ones. Thanks, Tanya!

Sewing

I visited the cooperative ladies of Musalila yesterday. We put zippers
into the small bags we've been sewing for the last month. Since there
was a funeral nearby, only a small part of the group showed up. The
ladies who were there had identified who was best at each part of the
process (one is good with arranging patches, another loves sewing
flowers and is studying my embroidery book), so they promised to teach
the others and have finished bags to show me next week.

I am thrilled at how quickly and enthusiastically they've taken
ownership of the project. I feel like I could disappear and they would
carry on. This was my intention all along.

While we waited for everybody to show up, I showed a couple of the
ladies how to knit in the round. They noticed that one of my sets of
needles is made from wood. I could see the wheels turning-- hey, we
have wood! We could make these!

Next week I'm bringing my giant wooden crochet hooks that a guy in
another village made for me. We're going to try making rag rugs.
Onward!

love, hate

Hate, hate, hate mosquitos. They come out at dusk and find my ears for
hours on end. We light mosquito coils, even in the living room while
watching movies, because they are everywhere, carrying their dreaded
medicine-proof malaria.

Love, love, love the sometimes odd movies our friend Janet sends us
from her video store. Tonight we watched a German one that made us all
want to hitchhike in Europe.

Also I love our friend Victor, who just called to say he's going to
send his bus by tomorrow to collect us and take us back to the
village. He wanted to know how many muzungus to expect. Muzungus=
white people. Yep, that's us. Victor loves Obama. His bus is the one
with the Obama sticker on it, scored by my mom on his behalf.

Facebook

Yeah. I finally figured it out. I think. Sort of. So, I think we could be friends. Yeah, you can send me one of those friend things. I'll write back to you. If I can figure out how.

Line

I am reminded yet again that i live in a developing, not developed,
country as i stand behind thirty people in line to use the atm at the
bank. Trevor has gone inside to try his luck with a teller, even
though that costs more. A guy just came out and greeted the man in
front of me in one language, the man behind in another.

Pizza and ice cream

We are in Chipata for our semi-regular R&R, which always includes lots
of movies, pizza and ice cream.

This time we're also planning our holiday in Cape Town and talking to
our bosses about big changes afoot in our work and living situation.
Stay tuned!

Meat

We live in a small town. There is a certain charm to how people act
because of this. The other day i asked lloyd if his cousin had made
meat pies, because Trevor loves them. Lloyd sent a kid to fetch her to
sell me some. Today when i stopped by for a drink, he pulled more meat
pies out of the fridge where he had stashed them for us.

The power is out in town, so the main activity this afternoon is
watching the clouds and speculating when the rain will come. I can
live without power as long as we have network.

Resolute

Like many people the world over, Trevor and I set out a list of goals
at the beginning of each year. Unlike many people, we post them on the
wall where we can/ must look at them every day. This keeps us
motivated towards achievement.

This is why today I owe a big shout-out to Trevor for checking one
2009 goal off his list. As soon as I drop the envelope in the mail, he
will have contributed three new podcasts to his old radio home, KOPN.
If you're a Columbia listener, keep your ears open! Reports from
Trevor (complete with goat sound effects) are on their way to your
airwaves.

Hummingbird

Last night when we were eating some hot & delicious Vindaloo Curry
(thanks, Lea!!!!!), we watched about a dozen hummingbirds flutter
around the blooming papaya tree in our yard. They flew away when we
first sat down, but within a few minutes they returned to poke their
crooked little noses into the flowers.

Not so amazing: the thousands of flies and mosquitoes buzzing our ankles.

Ringworm

It seems that an epidemic of ringworm is going around the family. The kids in the household have been shaved nearly bald, starting with the littlest ones and going almost all the way up to the oldest, exposing the tell-tale white patches on their scalps. Also, there has been some vigorous blanket boiling going on. Apparently ringworm is highly contagious. I do not want to find out.

Accordingly, we've been doing all our entertaining out in the yard lately. I itch enough as it is.

What you can get

Zambia's secret seems to be to take things away for awhile so when it
comes back you're happy with the available scraps.

We are back to network that we have to find by walking around waving
the phone. And i am so grateful for it i would kiss the cell tower if
i knew where it was.

We felt the same about rain after months with none, but now that our
house and clothes smell like rot we are starting to miss the dry.

Also There's powdered cheese. You can imagine the level of need it
requires to crave that. We're there.

Facebook

For the record, it's not that I have anything against Facebook. It's
just that my computer won't let me sign up for it. I think it's the
crap internet connection. Or the rain. Or something. I could check it
on my cell phone! It would be great! But I can't. So I'm not snubbing
anybody. I just can't do it.

Can you tell how thrilled I am that we are connected to the greater
world again? Do you also get a sense of how annoying it must have been
to live with me when I worked at home and Trevor was the only Actual
Human I interacted with some days?

Ole!

We finally learned the secret to tortillas that don't crack when I
fold them around a ridiculous amount of guacamole and taco-flavored
soy pieces-- yeast! We used the same recipe as pizza crust, and this
seems to have finally made the difference between self-destructing
wads of cooked flour and something you might find wrapped around three
pounds of delicious at Chipotle.

We also discovered a new Zambian vegetable this week, though I can't
pronounce the name of it still. It looks like an extremely bloated
cucumber and tastes like one, only less so. The lady at the market who
first showed it to me mimed rubbing it on her body, so at first I
expected a loofah or something.

Admission

I think we are finally ready to admit that we are outnumbered by the
books on our shelves. At this point, I think our backlog is bigger
than what we can hope to read before we return to the land of the
public library in 2010. So unless you have an amazingly compelling
piece of nonfiction to send us, we probably don't need any more books.

Ouch. That hurt.

That said, we will always make time for magazines. Except that I think
we now own the complete set of People magazines from 2008.

I also have more yarn that I can hope to knit up, though I am always
willing to pass it along to needy knitters. If anybody has some
unwanted DPNs hanging around, that is one knitting supply that's
un-buyable here.

If you are still dying to send us a package, like for Trevor's
upcoming birthday (hint hint!), we could always use news from home and
snacks: seasoning packs (for example, taco and Chinese ones), any nuts
other than peanuts (the only nut available in Zambia!), those
water-bottle drink packs, any food that doesn't require cooking
(granola bars, etc). Surprise us! We are far from starving but we do
get sick of eating peanut butter sandwiches for lunch every day.

If you know Trevor, you remember how much he loves Wacky Packages,
Fritos, Emergen-C, and insightful analysis of Cardinals seasons past
and future. If you just send him a letter, he will be thrilled.

Back in bidness

People, sorry we have been silent lately. Apparently the cell tower in
Katete was hit by lightening a week or so ago, so we have had no
internet and no cell service until about 10 minutes ago. If you have
been trying to call or email, sorry! We are newly available so please
try again or wait for a moment for us to get caught up on our back log
of messages.

The good news is, the communication drought has enabled us to catch up
on our letter writing! So if you've written lately, watch your mailbox
for a response!

Partner

With Trevor in Chipata the other night, I started thinking about how
my experience here would be different if I were a single volunteer.

Without anybody to chat with in English, I'm sure my language skills
would be better, though I would also talk to myself much more. I would
be more connected with my host family and community. I would probably
get more reading done. I could sleep in the middle of the bed without
getting an elbow to the ribs.

But I wouldn't have anybody to cook for, to share in the glee of
packages with, to plan trips with, to lounge around with on the reed
mat watching the stars shift.

In Zambia, we rely on each other more than ever before. Every day
we're more grateful for each other. I know that the challenge of Peace
Corps service rips some relationships to shreds. For us, it has been a
gift.

Way to go, Reese

I want to publically how proud I am of my big brother. In earning his
MBA last month, he has completed what I can only imagine is a rare
triple-crown of higher education: a degree from each institute of
higher education in our hometown.

The MBA makes him co-alumni with my mother. When she attended,
Stephens College was strictly a women's school where the young ladies
wore pearls to dinner.

Unlike me, a school nerd who fondled my new notebooks while dying of
anticipation every September, played school on break, and nearly
fainted when I saw teachers in the supermarket (they were actual human
beings?!?!?), my brother's relationship with school has often been
contentious, uneasy and difficult. The fact that it didn't seem
effortless makes his accomplishment that much more impressive.

Congratulations bro! I'm proud of you.

Sew what

I finally taught the women's coop how to sew crazy quilt squares,
though i was never able to communicate the term crazy quilt. This was
probably the high point of my time in zambia so far. Sewing! What
could be better?

Fast food

In America, when you are unexpectedly away from home over a meal time,
you can duck into a Taco Bell or stop by the quick shop for a bag of
Fritos and a big, icy diet Dr. Pepper.

Ahhhhhh.

Here in Zambia, there are no quick shops. But there is usually
something to eat. The other day when Trevor & I ran out of snacks
after we rode our bikes to Teferensone, we bought fried soy flour
fritters (they were about as good as you're imagining right now;
though maybe more stale) and bananas from ladies sitting by the road.
Other times we have enjoyed buns, mangos, meat pies (Trevor does eat
them) or samosas (tiny triangles of fried dough filled with rice).
When the bus to Lusaka stops at a road block, ladies swarm up to the
windows proffering boiled eggs, bananas, and little bags of frozen
water or frozen "Jolly Juice," the local version of Kool-Aid that
comes in flavors of cola and pineapple.

So far we have not starved to death or been forced to resort to
cannibalism. Yet.

First day

The new term begins today. The kids were up and scrubbed by six.
Clothes had been redistributed so everybody had something different
on, if not new.

Power is out in town, sadly, as i managed to kill my little solar
charger this weekend. Solios are not waterproof, in case you wondered.

Trevor is trying to go to chipata for a meeting today. When the guy
showed up to drive him, they had to put in the radiator and battery.
Then they tried to push start the car. When that failed they called
Elias to bring another battery. When i left home, Trevor was drinking
coffee and chewing on his arm.

Ingegerd, if you're out there, sorry i butchered your name the other day.

Surprise

Speaking of our trip home, i was remembering with some shame the
flight to johannesburg in which i shamelessly oogled my neighbor's
dinner. Apparently i also talked at length about zambia. Yesterday i
went to the post office hoping for a christmas parcel only to find a
package of dr. Suess books from the owner of the oogled dinner. Which
was even better than a christmas package, honestly, because it was
such an unexpected kindness. Thanks ingrid! Kids will soon hop on pop
thanks to you.

Reflection

To clarify, they were veggie burgers. Even if i did eat meat i
wouldn't eat meat that sits around all day with flies walking all over
it. Which pretty much rules out all Zambian meat.

But i enjoyed that nature burger and the peanut butter cookies i baked
in the reflector oven my dad built me when we visited home. The
cookies were my first experiment with the oven and i will have to
refine my technique some but still. They were delicious if slightly
raw. And To be able to bake in the bush is a pretty amazing thing.
This does not bode well for my goal of cutting down on sugar this
year, but maybe i will just fatten Trevor up finally.

Greatest thing

[Forgive me if I've already written about this subject. Bad memory +
many entries + bad internet connection so I can't check = the
occasional lapse.]

I never understood that American cliche "the greatest thing since
sliced bread." Until I came to Zambia and bought beautiful loaves of
fluffy white bread that disintegrate into giant piles of crumbs when I
try to slice them. (The story is that because of ever-present power
shortages in Chipata, from whence our bread is imported, the bread
gets baked but usually not sliced.) Sometimes the loaf holds together
enough that I can actually create "pieces." Unfortunately, due to my
lack of depth perception and an unsteady carving hand, the slices are
inch-thick uneven wedges that make jaw-defying sandwiches. The cut
surface is impossible to spread anything on, so we resort to glopping
on the peanut butter, hoping to maintain an intact slab.

Since I was already on a hunt for the elusive tomato sauce today, I
held out for bread while visiting my three regular shops. The last
one, The Pink Shop, had a huge pile of bread. Two of the loaves were
sliced. Hallelujah! (I only bought one. The only bigger tragedy than
unsliced bread is bread that gets moldy before you have a chance to
eat it.)

It's the little things. Like thin little slices of bread. This calls
for burgers for dinner!

Mulberries

Usually, the ride to Musalila village is hilly and rocky. Yesterday it
was also soggy muck with the occasional giant puddle of warm, murky
water as Trevor and I rode over to see if the cooperative there had
managed to plant the trees they unexpectedly received just before we
went to Chipata for Christmas.

They gave us a tour around the orchard where they planted dozens of
trees and are eagerly awaiting more. That was impressive enough, but
the bonus was getting to eat ripe mulberries off a tree in one
villager's yard. We also saw huge patches of pink zinnias and a bunch
of flowers we didn't recognize. And we made it home before dark and
before the rain.

Home after Christmas

I survived yesterday's 71-km ride back to Chipata with the help of
Trevor's pep talks, Tootsie Pops, and a Diet Coke that managed to stay
cold for two hours nestled among frozen water bottles. Thanks to a
mainly cloudy day, we arrived with a minimum of sunburn, mainly
concentrated in the areas we never think to apply sunscreen (backs of
the knees, sliver of thigh between where bike shorts ended during the
last trip and where they rode up this time).

It's lovely to be home except for the dozens of leaks that sprouted in
our roof and the moldering smell that accompanied it. Luckily we
covered most of our stuff in tarps and even leaned up the mattress
against the wall, so it only got mildly soggy when rain dumped down
just before we went to bed last night. This morning's project was
covering the roof with giant sheets of plastic we brought back from
Chipata. I only wish we had bought twice as much.

We were finally able to check for mail, and I'm happy to say Santa
found us via the US Postal Service! We got Christmas cards with
newspaper clippings and pictures from Trevor's excellent army of aunts
and Hava now of Baltimore; and parcels from the Terra Novans, John &
Gennie, and Trevor's mom, who wrapped every single thing, so we're
going to take it home and have a proper gift-opening while sucking on
candy canes. My most Christmassy feeling yet came when I pulled the
reindeer-covered tin out of John and Gennie's box, knowing it would
contain homemade deliciousness. Peanut brittle!! My favorite. I'm
picking it out of my teeth at this very moment.

Cooking

Meg is back from her vacation in Malawi and we are all very happy
about this because she is fun and also because she makes homemade
baked goods and is at this very moment whipping up a batch of her
famous mango salsa. Yea, Meg!

Trevor and I are packing up for our big bike trip home tomorrow. A
little piece of me hopes that a canter truck will offer us a ride,
hopefully within the first hour. But the rest of me is ready for the
challenge of a five-plus hour bike ride. I think. On Koh's advice, we
are going to stay on the road instead of taking the shortcut that led
us through wheel-sucking mud and over the washed-out bridge last time.

Today I geared up for tomorrow's ride by getting spectacularly lost
looking for a meeting. My odometer says I cycled more than 10 km. The
elusive office is about 1 km from the PC house. Um, oops.

The woman I met with runs a community magazine focusing on youth,
gender issues and health. Also she does outreach with commercial sex
workers, teaching about HIV and income-generation through crafts.
Seriously. Cool.

Talk

I had a great talk with my parents last night. No static and hardly
any delay, though the first time they called they couldn't hear
Trevor.

I love hearing about all the regular things. Sleepovers, dinner
parties, road trips. I especially like stories about terrible weather.
They remind me to enjoy zambia's summer while my friends freeze their
buns off.

New year

We celebrated last night by baking cookies with blue frosting and
trying to stay awake until midnight.

Today we explored chipata by bike, riding down the side road until it
petered out. When we looked around we couldn't see a sign of people in
any direction, except the path. And the hills are being stripped bare.

Last year

One year ago we had just spent the holidays telling everyone we knew
that we had been nominated to join peace corps in eastern europe in
spring. We didn't know what country but we were betting albania.

New year's eve we ran into an old friend who told us peace corps told
him south america but after he moved out of his house and sold his car
they said it was pushed back six months and changed to africa.

About a week later pc called us and said can you leave for africa six
weeks from today?

Twenty hours of freaking out later i had quit my job and started packing.

Happy 2009 everyone! We'd love to see you all in oh nine, so start
pricing those plane tickets. Lusaka is cheaper but lilongwe is closer.
Either way you're welcome.

Trash

Thanks to peace corps, I think i have found my true calling. I have
spent the last ten days organizing every room of the pc house in
chipata. Today i threw away three bins of scratched up old cds and
single socks. Also cleaned out both fridges. Yesterday it was moldy
board games. Before that, expired pills and empty shampoo bottles.
Ratty clothes.

Strangely i love throwing stuff away. Hard to believe for anyone who
has seen my collections, i'm sure, but i am a pro here. Ready to take
it to the next level. Not much call for junk cleaning in zambia
outside the pc community but i bet in america i could make a living at
it.

Sushi

Thanks to nori from grace and miso from Gennie, i made Sushi tonight.
Inspired by my old korean language partner eun jung, who makes Sushi
like i make chili (throw in everything that will fit), i invented the
zambia roll. Canned tuna, Avocado, mango. I thought it was pretty good
but then i don't like Sushi all that much. I prefer a good egg roll.
On that front, mohammed who runs the pizza joint says he will work up
a sample for me. He brought veggie samosas by on christmas so i have
faith in his fryer.

Vacation

In many ways this is Trevor's and my ideal holiday. Reading, eating,
movies, crafts, beer. Trevor is working on one hundred years of
solitude but should read love in the time of cholera since we hear
There's an outbreak in lilongwe, just across the border. If anybody
reading this sees my mom DON'T MENTION CHOLERA.

I'm crocheting a cozy for my nalgene bottle since they tend to sweat.
There is quiche in our bellies and fresh mango salsa in our future.
Plus Trevor just cracked open a giant bar of dark chocolate.

Almost heaven, eastern Zambia.

Sunny

I am thankful today that the sun is out so I could wash my smelly
clothes and not have them molder on the line. Unfortunately this also
means that walking through the market results in a burnt scalp since I
forgot my hat.

Trevor hitched down to Katete this morning with a friend to attend a
wedding. Me, I'm trolling the salaula (thrift piles), a terrible
weakness, but I did find a great "Hawaii" shirt.

We are having a lovely holiday lately. Eggplant parmesan and brownies
for dinner and a Natalie Goldberg-inspired writing workshop. No drunk
people causing a ruckus. I can't imagine anything better.

Play ball

I was trying to teach the new house dog to play fetch. It went ok for
a few throws and he was even bringing them back. But then i threw a
wild one that went over the wall between our house and next door. I
heard the ball splash into the mostly empty swimming pool. Luckily our
house keeper is friends with theirs. There's a ladder against the wall
so they can climb up and chat. Esther called over and the ball came
back.

Food

Let's face it. Holidays are all about the food. We've been lucky that
the power has stayed on consistently. Allegedly this is because the
president is visiting his farm nearby. We took advantage by making a
huge christmas lunch. Burritos, soy, salsa, guacamole. Luckily
avocados are in season and cilantro grows in the back yard. Also i
made baked apples using martha stewart's recipe and mexican chocolate
kerrie sent months ago. Now we are sitting around watching christmas
movies and crocheting. Seriously, i've taught everybody here. Cool,
huh?

Christmas!

Merry Christmas everybody!

Honestly, it doesn't feel like Christmas to me, at all, mostly because
it's still so blazing hot and humid and there is no sign of it
anywhere, except the occasional guy wearing a Santa hat. But a few
excellent people are at the house now, and we've been watching
Christmas movies and listening to Bing Crosby, and Meg has been baking
Christmas cookies. We're trying to get in the mood.

I am doing some last-minute shopping today. I bought Trevor a
Christmas t-shirt that I found randomly at the thrift store. That's a
bizarre concept, huh? A thrift in Zambia. It's called DAPP, and it's
an NGO that sells clothes from bales that get shipped in from Europe.
The stuff is fantastic-- I bought some linen pillow slips for 3,000
kwacha each-- that's less than a buck. We will fill each other's
stockings (uh, socks) tonight, and tomorrow we'll probably drink a
little too much as we pine for home.

Craft

In the afternoon i walked with my friend patricia down to the craft
center run by the catholic church. It was the first time i have
managed to be free when they are open. They teach pottery, wood
working, sewing and weaving. Be still my heart. I'm going back today
to meet the nun in charge.

Cape Town

We're thinking about taking a vacation to Cape Town in April. Does
anybody out there know anybody in Cape Town? Someone wtih a spare
bedroom, or perhaps someone who is going on vacation and needs a house
sitter? I'm good at dog walking.

ride

We thought we had a ride lined up on a truck delivering fruit trees on
behalf of an NGO, but they got re-routed at the last minute so we went
to plan B, riding our bikes to Chipata. Usually the 65-km trip takes
about five hours, but thanks to rain, wind, and sandy mud, this time
we took a record-long six and a half hours.

Midway through a winding shortcut, there's a bridge about ten feet
above a creek where kids bring their cattle. Usually the bridge is
logs with mud packed between them so it seems solid. But the rains
have washed away the mud, so it's just three slick, mossy logs. Right
when we pulled up, a guy rode up from the other way with an old dude
sitting on his rack. He carried the bike across and the old guy inched
over the bridge. Then the young guy picked up my bike-- overloaded
panniers and all-- and carried it across for me. After two precarious
steps, I crab-walked across on my hands and feet. Then the guy came
back across for Trevor's bike.

For the first five hours, we saw a grand total of two cars. Only one
was going our way, but unfortunately it was a taxi so loaded down the
bumper was barely off the ground. I was wishing a big truck would
drive by and stop so we could throw in our bikes and ride. Alas, I got
the character building experience instead.

Holiday spirit

Chadizians are getting into the holiday spirit. Where I sit in the
resource center, I can hear music drifting over from the market.
"Jingle Bell Rock" has come up several times now.

I decorated the house yesterday, meaning I draped a skein of silver
tinsel (brought back from the USA-- thank god they had already put
Christmas decorations out in October) over the doorway. It looks
festive.

We even got two packages that I insist on calling Christmas parcels
even though one contained leftover Halloween candy (but what happened
to all those Three Muskateers bars, mom???) and the other was kid
books, stickers and gossip magazines (be still my heart). I'm guessing
any "real" Christmas parcels will arrive around March.

In non-holiday news, Trevor says he is feeling like Johnny Zamseed as
he has just given away the last of the 400 conservation trees he
sprouted. Mr. Mbewe is digging a hole for a moringa in the back yard
as I write.

Tomatoes are becoming scarce and expensive in the market, but I did
manage to buy two unusual vegetables-- a pile of okra and three green
peppers-- so we won't have to live on only onions and critter-chomped
cabbage. Next weekend when we return to Chipata, we will further
cultivate the holiday spirit by making peanut brittle! Stay tuned.

Shirt

Everybody else wore their matching shirts for a group photo but we
whiteys didn't get the message. So at lunch a colleague drove us home
to change. Like many Zambians she is a country music fan so we rocked
out to dolly partoo.

Flock

We expected 372 students to this week's training. The number is
already over four hundred and climbing.

One organizer speculates that word got out we give softies aka sodas
and lunch, so people showed up to get in on the shima. This is the
hungry season. We are just beginning to see fresh corn. But most
people especially in villages don't have much to eat.

Just last night the whiteys were talking about office break rooms this
time of year, how people dump excess baked goods to get them out of
the house. I'm glad people here don't know about that. And i wish jill
could send me her grandma's fudge.

Free

In america i have had to fend off people trying to give me tshirts i
don't want. Those shirts end up in africa, where people who appreciate
irony get a cheap thrill when an especially goofy one walks by.

I got my first free zambia shirt yesterday. The workshop handed polos
out to us facilitators. They are the color of ikea furniture and
printed with olde english type. With all the teachers dressed alike it
looks like an overstaffed big box store or church camp.

Sad

We spent Friday afternoon handing out certificates to 350 head
teachers. Saturday they started home. Yesterday we got word that the
minibus to petauke flipped, killing seven teachers and sending
another eight to hospital in bad shape.

Today we launched the next phase of the workshop, with 350 more
teachers. The mood is somber as you can imagine. There are more women
students this time, so lots more babies. One wailed in the courtyard
through my first session. I'm glad somebody cried. The rest of us are
numb.

Whitey

Many of the teachers at this week's training have never met a real
live white person before. My first clue was when people we don't know
lined up to get their picture snapped with us.

Then at lunch, someone asked if two of my pc colleagues are brother
and sister. They do both have very short hair. But caitlin is an irish
redhead and nearly six feet tall. Koh, her supposed twin, is small,
athletic and japanese american.

You would think that as much as people stare at us they would pick out
a few subtle differences.

Eric

If you're reading this, we haven't written back because we can't
access your address from the phone and computer email is not possible
at the moment. Can you email us your email address? Ok thanks.

Teaching

This week's workshop reminds me of teaching college. I always enjoyed
coming up with wacky things for my students to do. However until today
i never compelled an adult to act like a rampaging goat. Along with
bursting into song and dance, Zambians love to act out dramas. It
keeps surprising me how goofy they can be under the suits and dresses
and british accents.

Trees

As an agro forestry volunteer Trevor is keen on tree planting and
trying to re green this tragically deforested country. He won't let us
cook with charcoal. He babies his seedlings.

So it is both painful and ironic for me to sit in a usa funded
workshop where the main activity is producing reams of flip chart
posters destined to be thrown out or burned tomorrow. The walls are
plastered with them. And they are pasted atop perfectly good chalk
boards and white boards.

Also my fellow presenter just started and ended a sentence with to. I
sat and clenched my marker. I only correct grammar if i can sneak up
on the sly. Thank god i have knitting to keep my hands busy.

Dedication

Zambians amaze me. Yesterday a guy showed up to return an umbrella
someone left in his car. A while back a guy followed me up a giant
hill to return a coke bottle i had filled with water and dropped from
my bike rack.

One of the teachers in our workshop brought her two daughters. The
five year old is watching the baby just outside the classroom. When
the baby is asleep the big girl plays jacks with a pile of rocks.

My fellow pcvs helped me comb the house for toys last night. The girl
got a car this morning. After break i will hand over crayons. Tomorrow
a jump rope. Thank goodness for the random crap people send us!

To clarify

When i said Trevor went home, i meant Chadiza not america. This causes
confusion with us here often.

It's world aids day. Africa has suffered from this disease greatly and
today we recommit ourselves to the fight to end it. I am also
remembering friends from home who lost the fight. Here and there, the
tragedy.

Home sweet village

Trevor leaves tomorrow for home while i stay two more weeks in the big
city training teachers.

He is excited to get back to where no running water or electricity
feels like camping rather than squalor.

Yesterday the power was out all day so at dinner time the housekeeper
here at the guest house lit us a brazier of charcoal. I sat with her
under the insaka out back and boiled pasta while she cooked beans. She
declared the noodles delicious and insisted on washing our dishes,
depriving Trevor of his usual chore. I have a feeling he will get even
more spoiled this week in the village as our host family fusses over
him. They don't approve of the way i let him help with woman work. He
may spend the week behind an ox cart instead.

No thanks

We are back to being our usual ungrateful selves today as we suffer
through an entire day with no water in town and our guest house blares
bad congolese pop music, though it recently switched to abba which
believe it or not is an improvement.

I passed the 50000 word mark for nov yesterday but won't be able to
officially finish on the Nanowrimo site as the web is not cooperating
in zambia lately.

Wah. Well, At least the power has been on all day.

By the way i haven't tried the caterpillers yet. They are sold raw and
seem like something that would be easier to stomach if cooked well and
by somebody else so i can forget what i'm eating.

Thanks

Today i'm thankful that the power AND Water stayed on all day so we
were able to eat stuffing and pumpkin pie. And to wash up after.

I'm thankful that i happened to be sitting by the phone when my parents called.

I'm also very thankful that the holiday provided us a legit excuse to
miss an afternoon of semi painful presentations at the education
training,

and that somebody left a fairly recent people magazine at the house
for me to read while i lounge like a beached turkey.

Happy thanksgiving

I hope everybody out there has a good turkey day. We are spending the
morning in our workshop but then will head to the house where folks
are already busy baking turkeys and pies. We look forward to eating
ourselves into a coma.

The rain again

I was just packing up to sneak out of the workshop for an extended
lunch break when rain started pouring down. The rainy season is here.
You can't hide from it. So i hiked up my jeans and grabbed my broken
umbrella. I am enjoying the veggie burger even more knowing i have
time for ice cream after.

Workshop

The eastern province education volunteers have come in early to help
out with a workshop. They told us to dress down for full participation
so i'm wearing jeans but the ladies are dressed in their finest
zambiao tailored bridesmaid dresses. Still they jump right in singing
when the trainers start in. Zambians are always willing to act silly
together which is funny considering how stiff and polite they usually
are. We are learning from each other.

Bath

After my run this morning, i got the housekeeper at our guesthouse to
bring me bath water.

Anywhere else, i would expect paid lodging to come with hot running
water, clean towels, and a basket of little shampoos. In america a
have spent days in the tub. Here, i'm thrilled that i didn't have to
carry the water down the hill. And it was hot! What luxury.

Town

We are in the big city to celebrate thanksgiving with the other people
who consider it a holiday. And a big peace corps meeting.

Since we were here last, the ice cream place opened, and it sells
pizza. As if this was not enough, it is caterpillar season. They are
offered all over the market, sold by the cup full. They look like big
dried beans. With legs.

Small victories

Trevor is feeling good about some small successes this week. His tree
seedlings are growing strong. The council has picked up on his
proposal to buy trash cans, and public toilets may be next. And he
looks forward to planting his field of cow peas and peanuts.

Plus tomorrow we head to the big city for a week of meetings and
thanksgiving with friends. For the moment It's blessedly cloudy. Life
is good today.

Veery

I am getting used to people staring at me all the time. But what
continues to freak me out is the way guys on bikes give me the dead
eye look while unconsciously veering towards me. They correct at the
last moment which is dicey on gravel.

It's my mom's birthday today! If you see her give her a hug from me willya?

Number crunch

Among the many items we brought back from our trip: bike odometers and
an outdoor thermometer. Now i know exactly how slow i am on my bike
and exactly how blazing hot it is. More than a hundred degrees just
about every afternoon. Not sure either piece of technology is
enhancing my life right now.

I ran into a guy from the education office who told me it will be this
hot until march. Lord help us. His name translates as small meat.
Sometimes zambia makes it hard to be mature. Like when Art told us the
word for monkey. It's pronounced poo-say.

More wildlife

Sightings this week include a tiny green snake in the outhouse, the
banana sized slugs that have come out since the rain started, a giant
monkey up by the water hole, and the lady who tried to steal my shoes.

There was no power in town for a few days so our phones died. Also i
have been slogging on the word challenge. Up past thirty thousand
words but i'm way behind on letters and email. So hello and sorry if
anyone feels neglected. I'll write in dec but Trevor is keeping up so
you may hear from him first. Unless you are a reader who we don't
actually know in which case you should leave a comment and say hi
because i am fascinated that anyone beyond my patient and kindhearted
friends reads this. My mom doesn't even read it! So thanks..

I am procrastinating typing up today's words. I bet you figured that
out already. Ok bye.

Wildlife report

Today we saw a giant monkey up at the spring and Trevor identified the
tiffany blue bird We've been admiring as a blue waxbill.

A stranger came to our door wanting food and water which i gave. When
She tried to walk away wearing my shoes i called for help. Our host
mom said she's a crazy lady who lives down the road.

We had been wondering what help is available to the mentally ill here.
Apparently the answer is none.

Mystery

People were asking me what moms here use for diapers. I didn't know
until this weekend when we spent the day with bensons family. He of
the wife and the monkey chasing wife.

They use old chitenges, then a layer of plastic pants. It's about as
absorbant as the huggies thong, as Trevor discovered when he held
benson junior for five minutes and wound up with a wet lap.

The baby also had a string of beads around his waist. Some type of
protection i suspect.

Send good thoughts Trevor's way, will you? He is having a rough time
lately. Not just the wet lap.

Milestone

As of today we are 33 1/3 finished with our peace corps service. In
america we would mark the occasion by spinning some vinyl and sipping
a frosty one. Here those are not options so we are at a loss about how
to properly celebrate.

Any ideas?

Mango season

It is again too hot to sleep. I got through the night only with the
help of damp hankies draped across my body. I don't think Trevor slept
much at all.

I think god is trying to make it up to us with mangos.

Business

I sat in on a meeting of the women's cooperative yesterday. It was
held under a tree by the clinic. There were more than thirty women and
nobody wore the same chitenge. I caught some words like chicken and
seeds and cook but the drama came when everybody had to sign the
ledger. Most signed by way of a thumbprint made by scribbling on their
finger with a pen. While they waited some ladies practiced writing
their signature in the dirt. The secretary had to coach most of them
through their names letter by letter.

Shopping

At the market i finally bought the lavender linen flax brand skirt i
have eyed for months. The salaula lady wanted twenty pin the first
time i asked but it had migrated from a rack inside to the pile
outside where she lays and watches people buy vegetables. I figured
its price fell with its status. Wed she only wanted five pin. I bought
it and will turn it into a sun dress to help me endure this brutal
heat.

Mango season

Mango season is here. I just bought four ripe ones in the market for
500 kwacha. Fifteen cents. I'm still watching the trees by our house
where the mangos are still green.

Nanowrimo

Anybody else out there tackling the monster? I figured i would never
have a better shot at finishing it than this year. Up to 17000 so far.
It's not a novel but It's something.

Planting

We spent the morning in the garden. Trevor finally earned that badge
for hauling manure on his bike. We planted lettuce, spinach, beans,
basil, watermelon. I have a bunch of seedlings started by colleen's
baggie method awaiting transfer to peat pots.

We will go to chipata in a few weeks to celebrate thanksgiving with
our fellow white people. It is funny to be celebrating the harvest
since folks here are slowly going hungry as they await the first
plants. We see kids gnawing on green mangoes.

At least we have reliable water again. The first rains have recharged
the springs a bit.

Media

We met with the patron of the fledgling media club at the high school.
We are all excited about this project and realizing that one challenge
will be teaching the students about what media is. They have never
used a computer or read a daily newspaper or watched tv news.

We hope to share examples of good media with them. If you are a nerd
with high speed internet would you consider burning a cd of npr
podcasts for us? You will find a link on their home page.

I am thinking of weekend edition especially but we would also enjoy
studio 360 and world cafe for our free time. God i miss public radio.

It's probably not necessary to be a nerd but i think it helps..

Small world

Further evidence. I was riding to town yesterday when stopped by a
lady on a motorcycle. Do you know josh in nimba? She asked. Nimba is
probably six hours from here. Yes i know him. She said he sends his
greetings, and rode off.

Maybe what this illustrates best is how few white people there are
here and how not anonymous we are.

Speaking of being white a friend asked me if they will rename the
white house now that black folks are moving in. She thought it was
called that because only whites are allowed.

I am starting to get why they are so shocked and thrilled about Obama.
It challenges what they thought they knew about americans.

Obama

We returned to the village yesterday and after dinner our friend
stopped by for the Obama stuff i brought him. He slapped the bumper
sticker on his bus before driving off to change into the shirt and
watch election returns.

We got two texts before we had gotten out of bed. We are all very
excited here.

Not so thrilling is the heat. Io bed last night i had pools of sweat.
Actual drops. I am more of a glisten person in general. But this is
professional level heat. When we hang up the new thermometer we will
know just how bad.

Trevor says instead of doubling peace corps, Obama should get us air
conditioning. I would take a fan even.

Zingalume School

Note the girls sweeping the yard with brooms made of twigs. Yep, that's a classroom.

Hot holidays

One surreal thing about being back in Africa is that we left Missouri in fall weather, cold and rainy. Here, it's hot and windy. The grocery store in South Africa was advertising "Summer Christmas specials." Even here in Zambia, there are Santas and fairy lights for sale. It hurts my brain to anticipate Christmas in summer weather, but at least they're on the bandwagon of putting out holiday decorations right around Halloween.

Domestic life

This is Trevor washing dishes up at the spring. Below is Trevor opening the pseudo-gate, a bunch of sticks propped up to form a door.

Home!

We have made it back to Zambia, at least. We're in Chipata until tomorrow-- election day!!-- when our fearless leader drives us back to the village. (She's going on other business, lucky for us.)

It feels like home, especially since we've already bumped into four people we know, just wandering around town. By the time we sleep in our own bed tomorrow night, we will have been traveling six entire days. Plus the time change, which I think adds an extra day.

Maybe it's good that the journey has taken so long; it feels like we have traveled the distance we have traveled, both physically and psychologically. I was sad to leave Americaland, but I'm glad to be back in Zambia.

Tutoring

That's Art, our language tutor. He's awesome.

Dog

This is one of the new dogs. Bingo? Tiger? Njala? Kaya?
Who knows.

I wasn't choking it, I swear. Just trying to help it pose for a glamour shot.

Kutundu

The Chewa word for luggage or stuff is "kutundu."

I think I mentioned that we missed our flight today. While I waited at the South African Airways desk (for three or four hours), I met/tried to translate on behalf of a tiny Spanish-speaking lady who was trying to pay her excess baggage fee. The airline wanted to charge her $300 for 25 kg of stuff. She explained that she is a missionary and the extra stuff, personified by her bulging pink backpack, was medicine and I'm guessing Bibles that she planned to distribute. She didn't have $300. She had three twenty dollar bills folded into a journal in her purse.

I explained all this to the counter women, but they refused to help her. I wanted to yell at them, this woman is trying to HELP YOU PEOPLE, will you cut her a freaking break???

I have felt this same rage on my own behalf a few times, like when we were sitting at the immigration office in Chipata, the one with monkeys on the railing outside the windows, trying to convince some surly clerk to stamp our passports so we could go back to the village and sweat for another 30 days.

The Spanish lady missed her flight too. The second time I saw her, she was in line again, this time without the pink backpack, which she told me she was going to give to the counter ladies, I guess in the hope they would read the dang Bibles inside. The third time I saw her, she was in the internet cafe by the parking garage with runny mascara.

Paint

Gennie of jump rope also sent water colors. I got them out just before we left on holiday. They were very popular. The kids loved the brushes to shreds.

Pen pals

While we were home, our hometown newspaper did a nice piece on the pen-pal match I have with my good friend Ann. It was fun to teach her students, who are mostly African-American, a little bit about Africa. I couldn't believe how posh and well-equipped her classroom was-- full of books, learning games, markers, posters-- Smartboards, even. Village schools in Zambia have a hard time getting chalkboards.

Click here to read all about it!

Back to the hotel

Thanks to a late driver, mix-up with the flight times, and bad information at the baggage check-in, we managed to miss our flight back to Lilongwe this morning. So we're back to the hotel with our four ginormous bags of crap to wait for our flight out SUNDAY (yes, two days from now). The beautiful irony is that even though we are carrying more than our share of luggage, almost all of it is gifts for the family and supplies for our work projects (a bale of yarn, four soccer balls, 24 t-shirts, kid books, several hundred pencils, etc). So I have nothing but tank tops to change into and nary a drop of shampoo.

Luckily the manager of the hotel here is a gem who lent me her own personal soap and shampoo last night, plus a DVD to entertain us. She yelled at the driver so much I think she damaged her vocal cords.

We're socked in for the night with the bottle of wine we put on the "free" shelf this morning and reclaimed when we returned this afternoon. Considering the setback, things could be much, much worse.

Africa that feels like America

After around 24 hours on planes, we made it to Johannesburg, South Africa, an hour before our scheduled arrival-- with our ridiculous pile of luggage intact, even. Johannesburg looks like Southern California, not Africa-- at least not the Africa we know. We even passed a McDonald's.

We were fully prepared to camp out at the airport waiting for tomorrow's flight to Lilongwe, but since Trevor didn't sleep at all on the plane we decided to spring for a hotel we picked randomly out of the guidebook. Our new friend from the plane called the hotel and arrange a ride for us, which saved our bacon. The driver showed up bearing a placard with our names.

Everybody had us terrified about how dangerous it was in Johannesburg, but so far people have been nothing but wonderful. It's looking good for us to get back to Zambia tomorrow unscathed.