Bi-monthly update

November 22, 2006 10 56

Dear Friends, The days have gone by and I have been supremely content of late. We had a tremendously unfortunate incident with the family’s long time cook. It involved a large sum of money and ended with several people in jail. Last weekend was focused around bringing those involved to justice. We have had our usual yoga sessions which always prove to be calming and invigorating. The peace of mind that I am left with for long after the session makes all the weird bending worthwhile.

The troublesome pool is up and running. I’ve enjoyed several wonderful swims so far. It is uncharacteristically cool. I am feeling right at home with the slightly chilly evening weather.

The Y.E.O Club (Young Entrepreneurs Organization) meetings are lively as always. Gillian, my boss at TTF (Teach to Fish…last time I’m reminding you guys of these acronyms) was quite sick L The flu I think. I had almost all of last week to relax and read as well as continue my lessons, market trips, etc. I’m living the life and reviling in it.

Sunday night was our 4^th salsa lesson with our instructor Ken. Improvement is visible in everyone’s dancing. I’ve skipped volleyball the past two weeks.

Two Saturdays ago was a strenuous Hash. It was without a doubt the toughest I’ve been on (but I’ve only been to 5). We climbed two large hills, the second of which being incredibly large! The view from the top was incredible. I only wish I had my camera. I walked this Hash and had the pleasure of some interesting conversation with several different people I had never engaged in conversation. Auntie and Wanji opted out of the Hash and instead joined the after party. Their absence compounded my incentive to finally get talking. I greatly enjoyed a conversation I had with Tamara about her fantastic multicolored hair twisted into dozens of braids. For several weeks Wanji and I have been brainstorming about dramatically altering our hairstyles. Tamara offered to get me the contact info of a girl that can answer my prayer. Following the strenuous walk/run was a braii at a fantastic location complete with a swimming pool and a great view of the hills we had previously traversed. We made it home and I watched a pirated version of the Da Vinci Code. The English subtitles were completely different from the words coming out of Tom Hank’s mouth. I am a huge Dan Brown fan. The first time I saw the movie I was disappointed because I couldn’t seem to follow the story line. With my second viewing I hoped to do better. Every time the dialogue was in French the subtitles ceased all together. Who comes up with these subtitles anyway?

Friday was a big day for us! We visited Cheshire Homes. We took a couple minibuses and had a great time walking miles around downtown taking pictures and bargaining for purses and sunglasses. We went with some people from Standard Charter Bank to present 1000 British Pounds worth of food to an orphanage. The kids hadn't celebrated any birthdays since May so we had about 6 massive cakes. The 50 or so kids sang songs and played games with the execs from the bank. It was a great time. Auntie and Uncle went to a wedding reception. Wanji and I left a contended Sentai at home and took a cab to Xenon. We were firmly instructed to be back for 1 AM. We started our night earlier than we would have liked to due to our curfew. The club wasn’t even open when we arrived at 10! Our new friend, James the taxi driver, willingly dropped us at Johnny’s instead. We danced for hours and met some cool people. Every time we started for the door another song would start that we absolutely couldn’t miss. We went running back to the dance floor for just one last song five or six times.

It’s Wednesday and I’m saying goodbye for the weekend. The family is heading to Northern Province for Thanksgiving Weekend. I’ll report whether there’s any pumpkin pie or not.

We are literally heading out the door so I'll insert the pictures when I return.

Love, Catherine

November 9

November 9th, 2006

22 28 Lusaka, Zambia

The heat has been absolutely INSANE. Record highs apparently. The past couple weeks have been beyond extreme. The nights are always gorgeous however which does compensate and appease. The rains were weeks overdue. People seem to cope somehow…all except for me. I try and avoid all outside activity other than in the early and late hours of the day.

It rained a couple times in the past week but the rains are still not officially here. On Saturday I was lazily watching European Music Awards on MTV when it began. It got creepily dark and the winds started violently picking up and hurling loose dirt against the windows. I stood on the upstairs porch and watched as the trees were whipped from side to side. From the second story I watched the torrent of rain slowly overtake Ibex Hill. My cousins had abandoned me several hours earlier. I followed their screams to the Indian neighbors’ house and joined their game of cricket. I was drenched nearly immediately with makeup running down my face. It was my first decent rain storm (no thunder or lightening though L) in many months.

I’ve started working for an NGO called Teach to Fish (www.teachtofish.org). For the first week I sat at a computer and researched the ins and outs of setting up a recording studio for Zambian artists. A weekly meeting of the YEO (Young Entrepreneurs Organization) Club takes place on Tuesdays in Northmead. I’ve made it to two meetings so far. My first Tuesday, I introduced myself to the group while standing at a podium. Although the group was a couple hundred people smaller, it felt just like being up on stage for Monday Morning Assemblies. The group is great; their energy and enthusiasm is contagious. I’m helping several members of the Executive Committee plan the official launch of YEO Club which will feature three separate events taking place over a two day span in late February. We’re choosing menus, brainstorming sponsors, choosing locations, etc. I’ve been helping Gillian Sosa (beautiful, intelligent, loving Scottish mother of 6!) organize her wonderfully hectic life. Gillian and husband Dad confounded TTF (Teach to Fish). With Benson (hilarious American-trained Zambian Pastor) they work like mad to keep up with their demanding schedules. So Gillian talks and I type.

Some years ago my driving instructor in Winnipeg, Manitoba told me that I was an “overconfident driver”. I vehemently denied the accusation. I’ve finally come to terms with it: I am.

This weekend was crazy busy. We started off early with the Brown Frog (nightclub for the more “mature” crowd. Aka middle aged people) on Friday. That entailed dancing and the poor decision of mixing alcohol. I took a breather and sat in the car while I pleaded with my stomach for more dancing. I had recovered control of my stomach but the others were concerned and we left around one. The car of its own accord took us to a petrol station. We pulled in with the music blaring and about 10 cab drivers swarmed our car yelling “taxi, taxi”. It could have been the alcohol, it could have been the sleep depravation, or it could have been the fact that we were all already in a CAR and clearly not in need of a taxi. Whatever the reason, at the time, it was the most hilarious thing I had ever experienced. We parked and Vicky (Indian neighbor…29 year old male) and I hopped out in search of ice cream. The doors were locked but I somehow managed to convince them to let us in. Turns out there was no ice cream. The four of us (Auntie, Vicky, Wanji, and I) sat on the chairs outside and laughed until my stomach begged for mercy. We noisily fumbled with the million and a half locks to get into the house and lock up for the night before tumbling into bed.

Less than five hours later it was time for our Saturday morning yoga lesson. Afterwards I felt remarkably refreshed and ready to go back to bed. Saturday night we got ourselves out of the house by seven. I should have mentioned by now that Uncle Scott was out of town for the weekend. Four months of training had been building up to the Jo’burg Marathon. He finished with a time of 4 hours and 7 minutes. Pretty damn fantastic if I do say so myself. The dance troop (Auntie, Wanji, Vicky and I) visited with some friends of neighbors from Auntie’s home village in Kenya. About ten of us went to an elegant lodge for drinks. After some heckling and maneuvering on my part, plans were made to meet with one of our new friends at Zenon, a nightclub in Northmead. We paid an outrageous 30 pin each to get in ($7). We walked into a courtyard flooded in black light and climbed up to the second floor wrap around porch. We followed the unmistakable pounding of the bass to the source. It was the equivalent of entering a sauna. As we wiggled through the throngs of people I couldn’t help but laugh. It was the Zambian equivalent of the wickedest Hip Hop night you’ve ever been to. The music was loud. The drinks were flowing. We danced for hours. Add a beer and two shots of tequila to the wine I had consumed earlier in the night. I sadly was dragged out the door several hours after midnight. To my joy we didn't go home and instead headed down the street to Alpha Bar. Where Zenon was an unusual clientele of Zambians who clearly devoted time to following American clothes and music, Alpha Bar was 100% local. We snaked our way to the heart of the dance floor and were at it for another hour or so. I was slightly un-nerved as a dance partner from earlier in the evening trailed to the car. We made it home safely without major incident.

Four hours later, Auntie roused me from bed and sent me upstairs to wake up Wanji as her tutor had arrived for their daily lesson. I pulled Wanji out of bed and then climbed in her vacated spot. After an hour of glorious sleep I was called to begin cooking. Four of us chopped, minced, and marinated for hours. We were joined midday by an additional dish washer and chopper. By thee the 25 or so guests had arrived. Food does taste so much better when you’ve slaved over it for hours. By 6 about half of the guests had gone home. The rest joined us for our first weekly salsa lesson in the convenience of our own home. We danced for an hour or so. We broke open leftovers and fed the remaining guests. Around 10 we said goodnight to our guests and fell into bed.

This week I’ve been working with Gillian doing odds and ends: taking notes, writing emails, etc. Yesterday Gillian, Cass (TTF driver) and I made a day trip to Kabwe (1 ½ drive from Lusaka) to work out details of Ephraim’s December concert taking place at Kabwe Chapel. Ephraim is a young Zambian Gospel Musician has spread like wildfire. Gillian is his manager. We distributed posters and tickets, arranged local advertising, and inspected the location.

This morning Auntie, Wanji, Carol and I went to the 2^ndhand clothing market. I unfortunately cannot remember the name. I scored a pair of sandals. Wanji walked back to the car with shoes, jeans, a hat, etc. I pointed out to Carol what I wanted such as a couple of jerseys and a pair of athletic pants. She will make a return trip with out us: the foreigners. I gave up negotiating with the hustlers. With me on the scene prices shot up to double or triple going price. After several hours of arguing over prices I had given up hope of ever getting fair treatment. “Muzungu” (white person) seemed to ring out from nearly every passer-by. As if every set of eyes on the block wasn’t enough to remind me that I was different from everyone. I good naturedly bantered back and forth with some of them. As far as I know, all Zambians by the time they have reached about the age of 10 can speak English. A fair assumption can be made that I do not speak either of the two main local languages of Bemba or Nyanja. Although everyone speaks English, I am frequently addressed in Nyanja (everyone asking for money remembers to ask in English). Having Carol around is immensely handy. The translated comments are hilarious.

I am absolutely exausted and sunburned! from our morning market debacle. This afternoon I went to AMSAI: Ananda Marga Special Academy Institution which provides 50 local children with a Neo-Humanistic Education. I arrived right before naptime. By the time I left about 2 hours later the kids were talking to me. Maybe next week we'll get to the conversation stage. The boys and girls are between the ages of 2 and 6. SUPER CUTE! A huge bonus is they are being taught in English. Most kids don't learn English here until quite a few more years of school under their belt.

From the school I met with Stephen and Benji to iron out YEO Club Launch details: YEO Club Launch Concert YEO Club Press Launch YEO Club Launch Gala

Tomorrow is drawing close. Auntie will wake me at 5:30 for our morning walk/run. I've skipped the past couple of mornings. That would normally not be to big of a deal because we also walk in the evenings. However, due to my several evening engagements I have also missed those. I miss my walks! The morning routine will become regular. That is my goal.

Much love, Catherine

Zimbabwe

November 6, 2006 10:56 Lusaka, Zambia

I think about how much there is to tell and I simply get too tired to begin. This is a classic case of my well-honed procrastination. I've divided my tale into three sections.

Part One: We arrived at the bus station just in time to watch to bus drive away. This was mid-day Friday. No other buses we departing for Harrare until the next morning. This type of trip is what I live for. Planning is not my forte. I have nothing against gathering money in the various currencies needed for international travel, checking out bus times, checking and double checking arrangements on the arrival side. However, I much prefer getting up and going. After a beautiful journey through, over, and between large hills/small mountains and clearing customs/immigration at both the Zambian and Zimbabwean border we arrived at Roadport Bus Station in Harrare. We had about an hour and a half before darkness overtook us on that Saturday night. The driver from Kufunda Village was not there. Anton, a young Zimbabwean man, graciously assisted us in calling the 5 different numbers that we had. We had no Zim dollars so the next task was to change some Zambian kwacha. Changing money on the street is an illegal activity however that didn’t seem to deter anyone. Anton offered his home for the night as our search for the elusive Kufunda Village could not be continued until morning. We lugged our backpacks, sleeping bags, and Zambian cereal (we were asked to bring cereal for Auntie’s Kenyan niece living in Harrare…it is not sold in Zim) from minibus to minibus as we traveled from downtown Harrare to a high density area a good 30 miles away. I’m slowly gathering valuable “rules of the road” that apply here. My main lesson this trip was: no vehicle (minibus, truck, small car, bus is ever full) Anton is a twenty-two year old Zimbabwean. His parents both died about five years ago leaving him and two sisters (18 and 13 years old) behind as well as a grandmother. Half of their small house was rented, the money used for food. I desperately wished I had brought something to share or give the girls. I dug through my bag hoping for something, anything of interest. I had packed only the bare essentials and after the third time digging through my bag I pulled out my mp3 player. They took turns listening to everything from Backstreet Boys to Shakira. I swallowed my daily dose of doxycycline and placed my trust in modern medicine to protect me from the vicious Malaria-mosquitoes circling overhead. The next morning we set out with Anton. We hopped in the back of his friend’s truck and after purchasing fuel that officially “doesn’t exist” and getting good-naturedly harassed by dozens of men, we set out. I’ll leave you to your own resources to investigate the fuel shortages in Zimbabwe. That journey would take you into Mugabe’s political nightmare which I am choosing to steer clear of. In any case, there are cars are in long-term parking for blocks around every gas station. In conclusion, we set out in the direction of Mbezi Game Park which we discovered was somewhere in the same area as Kufunda Village. Several wrong turns later we arrived.

Part Two: I am an Orthodox Christian. By nature I am eager to try new things and skeptical of that which I have not experienced. I love adventures and I will never turn down a trip. So when auntie invited me to go, I obviously jumped at the idea. I knew the fundamental principles of Bhuddism. I knew meditation was sitting on the ground with your legs crossed. I didn’t know how Ghandi managed to wrap his legs into a pretzel. From my 20-minute exploration of the website I learned Vipassana is available to everyone regardless of race, gender, religious affiliations, etc. That was enough for me! I was not searching for some life changing experience nor a new religion.

We arrived at Kufunda on Sunday afternoon. We were greeted by a woman who kindly helped us with our bags and fed us. Noble silence began and from there on in our daily schedule is as follows:

04 00 Wake-up bell 06 30 Breakfast of porridge and tea 11 00 Lunch of rice or maize prepared in local fashion and vegetables 17 00 Evening snack of popcorn and tea 21 00 Lights Out For an hour each evening we watched a video recording of Goinka giving new daily instructions.

Goinka’s practice provides a method in which humans can eliminate suffering and unhappiness. WHAT?!?

Here goes: As humans, we struggle to maintain control both in our lives and in the world around us. This leads to endless suffering as we can only control ourselves. By learning to observe (as an outsider would) sensations that are occurring throughout our bodies on a moment to moment basis, we begin to understand that change is inevitable. By accepting this reality in our own lives, we understand that nothing is permanent. Therefore we learn to maintain our equanimity no matter what the situation.

It’s a hard lesson. It takes great determination and depending on your religious philosophy, possibly many lifetimes. Time was allotted for bathing, hand washing your clothes and resting. Other than those essential interruptions, meditation was our exclusive occupation. Men and women are provided separate living areas. There is no contact either verbal or physical between any of the participants. Large circular huts serve various purposes from housing to dining to meditation. The housing huts were divided into four rooms each with 3 or 4 beds. During mediation hours participants gathered in the meditation hall, a circular hut of 30 ft diameter. Men entered and sat on the left side of the hut; women on the right. We sat in rows on the floor facing our teacher. I missed my shower, washing machine, refrigerator, and Grisham novel the most. I shivered involuntarily as lizards climbed the walls. I struggled to remain indifferent as mosquitoes ate me alive. I focused on not reacting to intense desire to readjust my legs during the hour sessions of meditation and instead reminding myself that the sensation would pass.

Part Three: On the 10^th day noble silence ended and I met my two roommates and fellow mediators for the first time. Of the 30 or so participants most were Zambian women. There were foreigners scattered here and there. After days of silence, I felt completely at ease saying nothing. Muthoni, a Kenyan women living in Zim, and Auntie fell in love at first sight. She offered us a ride back to Harrare and insisted that we stay the night. Muthoni with the help of several employees make gorgeous jewelry. She was exceptionally gracious to us as was everyone we seemed to meet. Those with “so little” are infinitely more generous with what they have. And they’re content. Go figure.

In conclusion, the 10-day course was the most mentally and physically challenging of anything I have undertaken in my life. As the days melted one into the other I was overtaken by different emotions. Sometimes I felt like screaming and kicking. I felt like I was losing my mind. I desperately wanted to run away and I would have given just about anything for a cupcake. Somehow I manged (it may have had something to do with the fact that I was in a foreign country with no money of my own and absolutely no where to go). I sat on the ground, looked up at the full moon and began to cry.I had an epiphany. S omehow up to this point, life has passed me by. I blame others for my unhappiness and I rely on new clothes, expensive face creams, etc to be content. I came out of the “retreat” with the greatest gift of all: peace of mind. It was as if a blanket fell from my eyes. I am in complete control of myself and my life. I exclusivley hold the power to at each and every moment decide my fate. Instead of waiting until tomorow to make a change in your life, decide right now. What's important to you? Family, friends, God, work, helping others???

The irony is: you're the only one who can make or break it.

Much love and apologies for the delay! Catherine

P.S. If you're in the least bit inclined to find out more about Vipassana, google it. There are learning centers all over the world. If you need some reassurance let me know. I'll sort you out.

Bye, bye world...hello vipassana

September 28, 2006 23:15 Lusaka, Zambia

My dear Friends and Family,

Two posts in one day! I am writing 45 minutes before midnight to let all of you know not to worry…I will be dropping off the face of the earth for two weeks. Aunt Gacheke and I will be traveling in the morning by bus to Harrare, Zimbabwe. We have been discussing for a week or so about going to a Vipassana course. We emailed an online contact several days ago and this evening received a reply informing us that the 10-day course at Kufunda Village (www.kufunda.org) begins tomorrow evening at 5 PM. About an hour ago, Aunt and Uncle discussed it and quick plans were made. My instinct was to hop online and find bus schedules, etc but there are no such travel resources here. Nixon, a neighbor, will drive us in the morning around 7 AM to locate said bus. After several days of no answer on the phone numbers we found online we finally reached Marianne, the organizer. We will text (sms) her before departing in the morning with our arrival information. Someone may pick us up or we will take a taxi. Our bus ride could be as short as 6 hours but if we arrive before the course begins or nightfall, I will be overjoyed. Upon the completion of our course, we will stay in Harrare for a day or two with Aunt Gacheke’s niece, Nyawira, who was one of our dinner guests this evening. She lives in Harrare and is in Lusaka on business for the next week. I know literally nothing about Vipassana but am excited to learn nonetheless. Feel free to find out more about this ancient Eastern meditation at:

http://www.dhamma.org/

We will not speak or otherwise communicate with each other or any others for the duration of the course. As well, we will take minimal sustenance. Everything is explained in detail on the website above. I have yet to understand fully what I am getting myself into. However, I am all in. We are packing minimally with two pairs of comfortable pants and several t-shirts. I’m taking some soap, lotion, vitamins and that’s about it. For those of you wondering, I will not be taking any make-up or perfume. I will miss smelling nicely but I’m sure I will manage. Dad, I’m taking holy water and I will wear my cross.

Talk to you in two weeks if all goes as planned!

Last minute arrangements are my favorite!!!

Love, Catherine

Election Day!

September 27, 2006 17:45 Lusaka, Zambia

Election fever has gripped the city. Today, Election Day, is a national holiday. Minibuses have been cruising the streets with air horns, loudspeakers, and crazed political supporters hanging from windows, doors, and bumpers screaming SATA. Outside of Melisa (grocery store) yesterday morning, women were campaigning in Mwanaswasa t-shirts and caps. Of the twelve candidates, Sata and Mwanaswasa, the current President, seem to be the two favorites. From my limited investigation and questioning of those around me, I am under the impression that Sata is the favored candidate of the poor; word on the street favors Sata who promises change. Chinese employers have a reputation of exploiting local labor and general feeling is negative towards them. One of Sata’s promises is to throw out the Chinese living in Zambia (key investors in Zambia’s copper industry). Chinese ambassador Mr. Li has said, “Chinese investors were "scared" to go to Zambia in case opposition leader Michael Sata won.” (BBC News) Many of Sata’s supporters did not register and therefore cannot vote. Mwanaswasa promises more of the same: stability. Rural Zambians are skeptical of Sata’s promises of drastic change. In the Simons’ house, Mwanaswasa is favored although none of us are Zambian and therefore are not eligible to vote.

Last night we had quite a few people over for drinks, etc. I made SUSHI! That’s right. Carol and I rolled grated carrots, sticky rice, wasabi, and a slice of omelet in nori. Carol taught me how to make samosas too. There were about 15 of us last night. I was conversing with the East Indian neighbors and their son when I learned they had another son at home. Wanjiru and I were sent over to fetch him. He joined the party. Aunt Gacheke talked some people into joining our salsa lessons. Wanjiru and I both have partners now and our group is up to four couples. Things happen when they happen so the classes with start sometime between now and when I leave (hopefully). Another one of the guests I chatted with for quite awhile, Peter, lived in Moscow for several years. We shared our stories about extreme climates and Orthodox cathedrals. Tony, a seasoned Hasher, stayed the longest and shared stories about the many hundreds of hashes he had been on.

On Tuesday, Auntie, Carol and I went and picked up a Buddist monk who mediates with Auntie regularly. After driving around for a bit (me driving) and asking for directions (Carol asking for directions) we found the YMCA which we heard was an orphanage. It turns out that it is now a place for local children (it’s in a rough area) to get together. I did happen to have my camera with me and the kids went nuts. We took pictures and then they all clamored to see the digital image of themselves. It was hilarious! We’re going back next week.

Wanjiru, Sentai, Noah, and I held a ping-pong tournament today. Noah and I played first and I won 25-23, CLOSE! Sentai beat Wanjiru. Noah won consolation and Sentai beat me for first. We played red light-green light and various other games to pass the time. Good fun except the grass is so hard! It’s very very itchy and sitting in it is simply not the same as I remember. Some friends of the family are downstairs so I better go join. Drinks are in progress and dinner is on the way. Carol tried to show me how to roll out dough to make a tortilla and she kicked me out rather quickly because I was too slow! I did slice tomatoes though and helped Wanjiru set the table.

Love, Catherine

Behind the wheel

September 26, 2006

11:09 Lusaka, Zambia Simons’ House

Dear Friends,

It’s been a couple days. Too long. My apologies. During my absence some new and exciting things have happened. I’d have tosay the biggest one is that Uncle Scott has taught me to drive. I am now a proud driver of standard vehicles. I try my best to stay on the left side of the road. Roundabouts can be a bit tricky as the right of way changes depending on which traffic circle you are in or entering. Minibuses are the greatest danger as they follow no rules. That statement implies that other drivers generally do follow the rules of the road. That is giving them too much credit. Stop signs, when they posted, are treated merely as a suggestion. I’m used to dumbfounded stares as I stall in intersections and angry honks as I jolt and squeal along. In two days of driving, I’ve cut down significantly on how many fellow motorists I enrage.

On Friday, Auntie and I drove Sentai to his friend’s house for a birthday party. We drove and drove and drove. As we entered deeper into the bush, the paved road turned to dirt. The dirt road after a spell had more rocks and boulders than it did dirt. We were in a jeep of sorts and I couldn’t help but laugh as we were tossed around. It would have been ideal for a Jeep advertisement. We passed loads of small villages. We even drove by a dairy farm! I couldn't believe it. Sentai’s friend’s parents are flower exporters. I believe they are originally from Norway. Their house was located on the side of a beautiful hill looking out on their expansive land dotted with horses and dozens of absolutely massive greenhouses. I couldn’t believe how many greenhouses there were! They had a village of their own where I assume their many employees and families lived.

Uncle, Auntie, Wanjiru and I went to the Lusaka Hash on Saturday afternoon. Good fun. Hilarious people. I cannot even begin to describe it so I offer you their website which does far better justice to the essence of Hashers. http://www.gthhh.com About 30 of us went for a short walk/run and then gathered back at the vehicles. We formed a circle and two old British men assumed control. The new hashers were called into the middle of the circle and asked to introduce themselves. We were each given a down-down (glass with either beer/sprite) and the song began:

Traditional Down Down Song II Here's to _____, he's (she's) true blue. He's (she's) a hasher through and through. He's (she's) a pisspot, so they say. He'll (she'll) never to get to heaven, In a long, long way. Drinking down, down, down, down, Down, down, down, down, Down, down, down, down, Down, down, down, down. (Continue or go to "Why Are We Waiting") When the refrain starts with “drinking down, down”…the people in the middle of the circle have to start draining their glass. Whatever they do not finish by the end of the down down, they must pour over their head. It’s lude, witty, and above all just a bunch of people just getting together to have a good time. I can’t wait for next week. After checking out their website I realized it’s all over the place! Hashes are all over the globe! There are five in Wisconsin and even one in Winnipeg!

Sunday afternoon Uncle and I played some volleyball at the Serbian something or other. It may have been the Community Center. It was next door to the Russian Embassy.

Monday I did lots and lots of driving. I drove to the salon, the hospital, Melisa (grocery store) and Wanjiru’s school. I was sitting in the parking lot waiting for her to finish her class at Kabulonga Girl’s Secondary School when some girls came up to the car and started talking to me. Sean Paul started playing on the radio and they began singing and dancing. They insisted I join them. I obliged and they had a hay day. We talked about 50 Cent, Shakira, Nelly, etc. They rattled off about 10 nightclubs that I MUST go to while I’m here. Wanjiru eventually appeared and we headed off. We decided it was too early to go home and instead headed downtown trying to keep track of the route back home. After a good couple miles I drove into a parking lot assuming I could turn around and head back down the street in the other direction. It turns out the entrance to the parking lot was only an entrance. We drove around forever before finally finding a route to get back on the street. We made it back and vowed to do more exploring in the near future. Uncle called and asked if I wanted to go play some volleyball at the Marine House. I was feeling kind of sluggish and gratefully accepted the invitation. We played five or six games. I was pleasantly exhausted by the time we finished. The group, for the most part, is good natured and the games are great fun to be a part of. While we were played a group of Marines loaded into a Suburban heading out for a night on the town. They were easily distinguishable in their A&F shorts and polo shirts. It is nice to see snippets of home from time to time.

Love, Catherine

picture loop

titles are so hard

September 21, 2006 18:32 Lusaka, Zambia Simons' House

Hi Everybody,

Tomorrow will be a week since I arrived! Time sure flies when you're having fun. Sentai (cousin) and I are listening to Christmas music right now. It just struck me that I won't have a white Christmas this year. Somehow I'll manage. Aunt Gacheke, Sentai and I went to the U.S. Embassy this evening. We made the trip in order to go to the commissary. I would have taken pictures but signs were posted all over the place squashing my picture-taking thoughts. Video cameras watched us from every direction. I was issued a temporary pass in exchange for my passport and I went through a metal detector, etc. We made our way to a large room with shelves full of unobtainable items. Kahlua, Pringles, CapriSun, Aunt Jemima Syrup, etc. I snagged a small bag of M&M's for myself. I was quite content. Sentai attempted to buy the whole store. After leaving the embassy, my aunt was appalled to watch me eat the "ENTIRE BAG!". In my own defence, it was a small bag. It was the equivalent of a chocolate bar. She simply couldn't believe it. I assured her I wasn't crazy. Other than my M&Ms, I have been eating 100% healthy foods. Lots of native foods such as sima, sauces, steamed vegetables, sausages, etc. I did my best to swallow some steamed kale today but simply couldn't finish it. We picked up some ravioli at the commissary and I can smell it downstairs! Carol, Wanjiro, and I went to Melisa (closest grocery store...about 10 km from here) today. We walked about 5 km to get to the minibus stop and then hopped on. We paid about 1500 kwacha each. 4000 kwacha equals about 1 USD. All purchases are in the thousands or the big purchases in millions. The minibus was quite packed and I got cozy with some locals. I'm used to the stares by now. I saw one of the guys from volleyball and we talked for a little while. He invited me for more volleyball tonight. The three of us headed to the minibus stop to catch one back to Ibex Hill. We waited forever but couldn't find one heading in the direction we wanted. Upon seeing me prices immediately sky rocket. Vendors on the street charge nearly double. Carol haggled with a taxi driver and we hopped in for a ride home with our groceries. These two pictures: I saw a guy sleeping in a wheel barrel...hilarious. and the other is of me, Wanjiru, and Carol in the taxi. On Tuesday afternoon we went to the weekly market and spent an hour or so going from vendor to vendor buying fresh fruits, vegetables, beans, herbs, etc. for the week. It was crazy hot but I somehow survived. The selections were amazing. Everything looked like it had just been harvested. No such thing as shrink wrapping. That was another fun experience with vendors jacking up prices upon seeing me. Carol and Aunt Gacheke did all the purchasing. I was just along for the ride but I was hounded by "madam, over here" from all directions. People assume I must have money. haha. Everyday do far I've either walked or biked quite a good distance. Add volleyball to the list and I was quite sore yesterday. I love not having to do anything in particular. Uncle Scott is going to teach me to drive standard as well as the ins and outs of roundabouts and driving on the wrong side of the road. He's working with a contact of his to develop a school connection for me. In addition, Aunt Gacheke and I are talking about taking some Zambian dancing classes, Salsa, learning the local language, and all sorts of other exciting and random things. I watched some videos today by Eckart Tolle about "living in the now". I feel asleep in the middle. I'll try again tomorrow. It's a good message...although a tad dry. I keep forgetting to put sunscreen on. I haven't burned yet. Dinner is served. Goodnight. Catherine

Luggage Crusade...

September 19, 2006

11:31 AM Lusaka, Zambia Simons’ House

Good morning all,

I have had a very calm and relaxing morning thus far. The family for the most part is out and about doing their thing. Uncle Scott is at work at USAID. Aunt Gacheke is playing bridge at the Japanese ambassador’s house. Sentai is at school. Winjiru is downstairs on the deck with her tutor. Dorcus flew back to Nairobi yesterday. Aunt Gacheke is recovering from several months of hyperactive thyroid issues. Dorcus was the “family representative” (Uncle Scott informed me) sent to make sure that Aunt Gacheke really was on the road to recovery. That accounts for the family. Although most everyone is out and about the house is far from empty. I have yet to see it empty actually. Carol, the cook/masseuse and Alice, the housekeeper, are almost always here. As well there is a gardener who I have yet to meet. Simon is supposed to be cleaning the pool and putting up mosquito netting on the porch although I have not seen him around. Everything and everyone moves at their own pace, to the beat of their own drum.

Yesterday, Monday, was quite a busy day for me. We woke up quite early and headed to the airport to drop off Aunt Dorcus and pick up my missing bag. I had called at least 3 times each day since my arrival. I filled out a missing baggage form upon my arrival and was given a sheet with about 5 phone numbers which I was instructed to call the next day. Not far away, a man started cussing rather violently when he realized his bag was missing. I smiled because for once I was in no hurry to get this bag back. The suitcase that had come through had my clothes and everything I needed immediately. However, after several unanswered calls to the airport and several more promises for a return phone call I realized why the man had been so flustered. Occasionally bags never came and frequently they were long in coming. I continued my calls and soon the receptionists knew who I was without me having to identify myself. Much to my surprise, South African Airways did call with the wonderful news that my bag had arrived at the airport. Aunt Gacheke and Aunt Dorcus were in line waiting to pay the departure tax. I went off in search of my bag. At the lost luggage office I was redirected upstairs to the British Airways office. Upon my trek up the stairs I found the office to be closed. I wished Aunt Dorcus a safe trip home with a promise that I would come and visit Kenya. Aunt Gacheke and I then went to the information booth where we were told that the B.A. office was supposed to open at 8 frequently didn’t open until 11. It being 10 we decided to have some food in the restaurant and wait for office to open. Upon finishing our brunch, we found the office had still not opened. We went back to the lost luggage office and told them of our predicament. They directed us to the South African Airways office which was past the police office. After conferring with several people we determined that the office was indeed through a single unmarked door. Through the door sunshine and hot air burned our retinas and throats. We were directed to another unmarked door and down a long sketchy corridor. I was coming to terms in my mind with possibly never seeing my bag again when a small sign marked South African Airways appeared. We entered a small office with 3 men. Two were filling out forms and one was busy talking on the phone assuring the caller that he would indeed find his/her bag. The caller was getting the same line I had been given about 6 times. He kindly asked us to wait for 2 minutes as he went and located the caller’s bag. After making it this far on the goose chase, 2 minutes was nothing. Aunt Gacheke and I were having a lively conversation and the time passed quickly. the man had still not returned and I commented on how the two minutes had turned into 10. She laughed and said we should have asked whether it would be 2 American minutes or 2 African minutes. Eventually the man returned and we followed him back through the long corridor, the blinding sunshine, past the police office and back through the entrance to the airport. I cleared security and followed the man into a backroom with 3 enormous dumpster-like baggage bins. I followed him to a man behind the customs desk who gave him a key to the bins. After unlocking the two large padlocks the doors swung open and I was overjoyed to see my bag sitting their safe and sound. We went back to customs where the man behind the desk inspected my passport in a show of security and then sent me on my way.

In addition to my airport adventure, Aunt Gacheke and I also made a trip to Uncle Scott’s office, the grocery store, Blockbusters (not part of the Blockbuster chain but nonetheless a video store), Winjiru’s school, and Sentai’s friend’s house. I took and nap. Uncle Scott and I went to the Marine house to play some weekly volleyball. The U.S. Embassy in Lusaka is guarded by US Marines. They live in a compound with an outdoor volleyball/racquetball/basketball court. Every week a fairly large group of ex-patriots (10-20) gather to play some volleyball. Last night the countries represented were Sweden, Norway, US, the Philippines, and several others that I could not identify. There were two fantastically tall players who would spike the ball faster than my brain could process what was happening. I managed to get some pictures and I think I’ll be back next Monday for more volleyball.

Later on today Aunt Gacheke and I are going to go to the weekly farmer’s market. I have little worry about becoming bored. There are a million and a half things to do. This evening I am fairly certain we will go for a 6 km walk as we have been doing every day. The weather is consistently beautiful. Highs of 86 F/30 C and lows of 55 F/12 C daily. The evenings are my favourite part of the day. Once the sun begins to set I am consistently amazed by the impossibly perfect evenings which go on until the wee hours of the morning.

I love hearing from you guys. Pleasem don’t hesitate to email/comment.

Love, Catherine