Written in my journal during second site visit, on 3/14:
So here I am at the end of my third full day in my new home. It's been a pretty eventful three days, too. I started my adventure here walking to see the school and visit my head teacher's home. After the crazy drive into the wilds to get to my house, it was a bit of a shock to see that he had electricity. The TV was on, two freezers were running, everything was modern, bright, and nice. I ate lunch there, even though I'd eaten just an hour and a half earlier at a rest stop in Kapiri. Ba Milton (the head teacher) called some of the other teachers over to meet me, walk me home, and fix the lock on my door. So they fixed my lock while I set up my borrowed tent and bathed. When they were finished, I fixed myself a grilled cheese and went to bed.
I started off Monday with a funeral. Since I'd never been to a Zambian funeral, I went to my bataata, who is the headman, to ask what I should wear. He told me that what I was wearing was fine, which surprised me since I was wearing a tshirt and a chitenge over my shorts - my wake-up-and-make-breakfast standard. So I finished my oatmeal, did the dishes, and we set off for the funeral. The walk was pretty impressive. It was long, first of all. We were walking along the train tracks for a good portion of it. My bataata was carrying a chicken under his arm and bamaayo had a bowl of mealie-meal on her head and a baby on her back. Other women walked with us, similarly laden. We walked through the market, which was abandoned in mourning for the dead chilolo [chief advisor]. We crossed the Mikunku River, which winds through a huge grassy field. As we were walking, I felt like I was really in Africa. When we got to the funeral, we went straight into the house to it with the deceased's family. We sat in silence for a good ten minutes, then said our goodbyes and I'm-sorry-for-your-loss's and went outside. At this point, the men and women separated. I sat with the women (obviously) on mealie-meal sacks under some nice shady trees. There wasn't much talking, other than greetings and scolding of children. The kids were funny. One boy was climbing a tree, then all of a sudden dropped his pants and ran down the path. Too funny. My little sister sat on my lap for a bit, then ran off to play in the dirt. While we were sitting there watching the kids have fun, one of the women in front started this wailing song. Of course, I can understand it because it's in very fast Bemba, but I assume it's a song of loss. And it's eerie. Then the women inside the house began their own wailing. It created a dissonent counterpoint that was heartwrenching in the sincerity of feeling it represented.
Unfortunately, I didn't get to stay for the whole funeral. My bamaayo took me home so I could have lunch before I had to go to school. There was a language breakdown and some confusion about a chicken, but after it was all over, I had bamaayo walk me to ba Milton's house so we could chat about community entry. They laughed over y nshima cooking skills, then we did my timeline. When we were done, bamaayo had gone home to cook, so ba Milton had one of his nephews walk me home. We had a nice chat about choir, church, books, and his dream of becoming an English teacher like me. Bamaayo offered me a bowl of mealie-meal when I got home, which I refused. I told her: "Nshaleipikila ubwali. Nalalya umupunga." [I'm not going to cook ubwali for myself. I will eat rice.] I couldn't tell if she was offended or not, but she seemed to understand, at least. So I made some fabulous stir fry with my leftover chicken. As I was finishing my meal, the ENTIRE FAMILY crowded into my insaka to chill with me. It was fun. I started to get to know some of the kids/nephews and talked with an uncle.
I had to be at school at 6:40 on Tuesday, so the morning was a scramble. I woke up at 5 and managed somehow to light my brazier all by myself. My bamaayo was surprised when she came to offer me coals. So I got myself all ready and was shoveling my breakfast of leftover rice with sugar and peanut butter into my mouth, straight from the pan, when ba Susan came by to say hi. Kind of embarrassing. But I told her I had to leave in 5 minutes, guzzled the rest of my coffee, and hopped on my bike. The assembies [where they introduced me to the students] were anticlimactic and the teacher briefing was boring and slightly unnecessary. Well, maybe not. Who's to say? Anyway. The grade 2 teacher here is FANTASTIC. She makes me think of my mom. The grade 9 teacher seemed to be putting on a show for me, though. I went home for lunch, and once again turned down the offer of mealie-meal, in favor of leftover stirfry and an apple with peanut butter. Went back to school for a hot second, then came pack to do some PACA stuff. I got Ronald and Susan's family tree and the seasonal calendar done. They were both a lot more complicated than they needed to be. Made some soya and lentil sloppy joes for dinner, which were actually supposed to be burgers. Failed attempt. Good anyway thought. Just the boys chilled with me last night.
Today was a good day. I started off right with some pancakes. Bamaayo brought me some peanuts, which I honey-roasted to take to school. I got there at 9, only to sit for an hour. Then the deputy head and I got into his truck to go and meet the headmen. I didn't find out until after he'd backed into a tree that he taught himself to drive last October, when he got the truck, and doesn't have a license. Safe, right? Add to that the condition of the village "roads" and you've got a fun ride. It really was good though. And the whole time I was having moments. I just kept lookig out the windows and seeing grasslands and crazy trees/fields/rivers/huts/thatched roofs and thinking to myself, "I can't believe I'm in effing Africa." It was so surreal. Came home to a sandwich on two leftover pancakes and just chilled for two hours. It was glorious. I finished "So Long and Thanks for All the Fish." Then another observation. 5th grade. The teacher taught entirely in Bemba, so I was lost. And becaue I wasn't actively notetaking, I started absentmindedly flipping my pen around my thumb. I look up, and a group of kids is watching me, pens at the ready to try it. Too funny. After class, I taught ba Milton about email and Facebook and the internet. He thought you had to go to the post office to set up email!
Happy Pi Day, me! :)
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