Some Short Stories

Hello to all my faithful followers. I am in Lusaka now getting my work permit, getting my embassy card, money, and meetings. The embassy card is kind of cool, because it is like a get out of jail free card if anyone tries to mess with me. Here are a few short stories from the village. I will be returning to the village on Thursday and probably won't be out again until sometime in late February or early March.

The day I returned to my village, the headman had died. So, everyone was at his funeral. He was between 104 and 107 years old depending on who you asked. Seeing how there are no birth certificates in the village nobody will ever really know. Seeing as how the average life expectancy for Zambians is 37, I would say that he did pretty well for himself. I went to meet him once and he was surrounded by people, like a kind of living legend. They actually respect old people here. What a concept.

Did you know that a bush cat sounds like a lion when it is circling your house in the middle of the night hissing and spitting for unknown reasons?

Want to grow marijuana in Zambia? Here is what you have to do according to one of my farmers. Take some weed down to the Magistrates office, role a joint, smoke it in front of them. Then they ask you some questions while you are stoned and if you perform well you are awarded a certificate that says you are legal to grow and smoke marijuana to your hearts content.

I was following on of my farmers down a bush path on our bikes the other day when we came to a down hill slope. I noticed him slowing down, but I couldn't figure out how, because none of their bikes have brakes. Then I noticed that he was using the back of his bear footed heal against his back tire to slow himself. He turned around and smiled at me and said "foot brake."

That's all for now. Check back soon.