Lake Tangenika Christmas

Me and six other volunteers went up to Lake Tangenika in the northern part of our province. I think it is the second deepest fresh water lake in the world. It is so big that when you look out from the shore you can see water all the way to the horizon. Check it out on a map. It is hard to miss. We found a nice place to stay on the south shore in Mpulungu, which is Zambia's only port town. On the first day me and a few other volunteers decided to go swimming near where we were staying. We had heard rumors of Crocadiles in the lake, but as we looked up and down the shore people seamed to be playing and enjoying themselves in the water. I decided if it was safe enough for the Zambians, it was safe enough for me. After I had been in the water for some time a Zambian swam out to where I was and I asked him about the Crocs. He told me he didn't know if there was Crocs there or not because he was not from the area. In fact, he was waiting for some other idiot to jump in and test the water before he got in. After pooing my pants in fear I decided to exit the water. Later that night we visited the same beach to watch the sunset. Sure enough, what did I see but Mr. Crocadile. It was only a small one, but I'm sure its mother was close by.

On Christmas it rained so we didn't do much, but the day after Christmas we decided to take a boat ride to a beach without Crocadiles. We went down to the beach at the scheduled time and our boat and two man crew was awaiting us. We shoved off and immediately our boat began filling with water. Never to fear, however, because this boat came equipped with not one, but two buckets for bailing water. Two of us bailed water while three of us paddled using sticks that kind of resembled ores. We made it to the Crocadile free beach, and enjoyed ourselves while our crew sat off shore and bailed water for five hours. Wouldn't it be easier to fix the hole in the boat? I guess when there are holes all over the bottom of the boat there is really no point.

All and all it was a good Christmas. The only thing that puzzled me was that the children in town kept saying "Give me Christmas." I wasn't really sure how to respond, so I just said "Merry Christmas." I guess that is giving someone Christmas, because they seamed to leave us alone after that.

Happy New Year. I am off to the bush tomorrow.

Farmer visits

I am back in Kasama after spending some more time in the Bush. This time I have come to meet up with some other volunteers to visit Lake Tangenika up in the most Northern tip of Zambia. This past week I spent visiting farmer's homes and fish ponds. Now is the rainy season, so everyone is very busy working in their fields. The schools even close down so the kids can help their parents work. Every farmer I go to visit stops whatever they are doing to spend time talking with me (the fish expert) and prepare a meal for me.

On Tuesday one farmer came from his house 15 kilometers away by bicycle with his 20 year old brother sitting on the back along with a sack of potatoes to give me. After spending some time at my house we set off to visit their houses 15k away. As I easily peddled up the hills on my 21 speed Trek mountain bike, he struggled up the hills on his one speed "Zam" bike with his brother on the back. The path to his house isn't really a path at all, but a bunch of tall weeds that were kind of pushed to the side form a small opening. When we arrived at his house I was greeted by about thirty of his family members that live in the same area. I could only count three small houses where these thirty people lived.

After a tour of his ponds and fields we sat down to a meal of corn and pumpkin. After talking for a while he loaded me up with corn and rape to take home to eat. I didn't make it very far however, because I was stopped by his father who also wanted to feed me. In Zambia it is rude to refuse food, so I sat down for meal number two in the span of 30 minutes. He also loaded me up with eggs and then I had to get out of there before they tried to feed me more. They made sure that I scheduled my next visit to their house so they could prepare a proper meal for me next time. I don't think I will have to worry about starving in the village.

Merry Christmas to all of you. I will miss you and be thinking of you all.

First Week at Site

Typical day at site: Wake up whenever I feel like (gosh). That is usually around 6:00 or 7:00. Sit on my front porch drinking coffee and listening to BBC news. Usually John Bolton is making some flipping remark about how he hates the U.N. After about 5 minutes of depressing news I decide that my time would be better spent sweeping my house or working in my garden or working on my fish pond. By 10:00 or so it gets too hot to work outside anymore, so I study Bemba or read a book. In the afternoon I go visit farmers. They usually cancel all their plans for the day (ex. Planting beans or corn) to visit with me and prepare a meal for me, their honored guest. I come back in the evening and do some more work around my house and cook dinner. I love my site, even though someone has stolen my dog (I am a little better about that). For example, I have to pass through my neighbor's yard to get water and I have yet to pass by without him insisting that his children go get water for me and bow down to me when they give me anything. I don't know how long this honorable treatment will last, but maybe only until they figure out that I don't really know anything.

Today I had to come to Kasama to get my work permit. Apparently, I am a day too late, so I may spend some time in Zambian prison if they catch me, which would make for an interesting blog (just kidding). I am a little shell shocked now after arriving in Kasama. Cash registers, people everywhere, cars, computers, deadlines, English. I can't wait to go back to my site.