Birthday in the Bush

Well, I survive the first two weeks in placement, just, and have made it through all the training, so now I just have the next 7 months in Mumbwa stretching ahead of me.

The first few weeks have been interesting, enlightening, frustrating, stressful and at times mind-numbingly boring. After 6 hours of driving cramped into a mini bus with suitcases, my pack, buckets, sacks of maize and assorted other belongings, accompanied by the ear-splitting singing of my fellow volunteers, we arrived at the small town of Mumbwa. Well more of a large market with a few shops attached.

We were taken to our new home, proudly shown around our one room by our teacher. It has electricity. That is pretty much the only nice thing I can say about it. A light and somewhere to charge my phone and to have an electric ring makes life so much easier (kindly donated by our nextdoor neighbour Aunty Eunice). Apart from that its very small, about 2m x 2m, has a concrete floor with holes where the ants get in, a tin roof that leaks and a door with gaps, where people can come and spy on the white person in bed. The bathroom is a different matter, home to cockroaches and other creepy crawlies and stinking - I try to spend as little time in there

as possible. But it is managable. It is good that people see that we are living just like them

Ou first few weeks were spent getting to know the area. I live in a township called Rentals, just about 15 minutes from the market, with another market just close by, which is really handy. The area is nice, with lots of families, and everyone is friendly, although I do feel like the town freak. Everybody stares and wants to greet me. I get followed a lot, either by men or children. Even a guy of about 18 wanted to shake my hand as he had never met a white person before. The township pump is the place where I seem to have caused the most commotion, the idea of the white girl fetching water seemed to tickle everyone. Hopefully everyone will get used to me soon and I will stop being such a novilty.

The only problem about living in town is that our school is an hours walk away, and we have yet to be provided with bikes. This means that sometimes we have to leave home at 5.30am to get to school on time. And morning preparations are very slow here, clothes ironed, hair brushed into place, long bathing sessions, meaning wake up is somewhere around 4.30, so by 8.30pm I really am ready to bed. Not that there is much to do after dark.

My birthday was enjoyable, if not a little different from being back home - memories of cup cakes seems distant. Above are some photos of the day. I went to a teacher's house to bake a cake, which they had never done before. It was pretty much perfect, until it set on fire in the oven. Some things never change, I will never be a master chef. But we managed to rescue it, and it actually tasted pretty good.

The walk to school was lovely, we left before dawn and saw the sun rise, gave an assemble message and taught grade 6 (none of whom speak more than basic English, so I felt I was there for mainly entertainment purposes). In the afternoon we ate corn, chilled out in the sun and walked the dusty lanes of Mumbwa. The life of Zambia.

School has been interesting. It is fairly small, but very disorganized, with few groups, clubs or activities, so hopefully we can work with teachers and pupils to introduce some. The main problem is that for most of last week school was closed. The incident really opened my eyes to the realities of life here in Zambia and the scale of the problems the country faces. On Monday one 5 month old twin of a male teacher died, and was buried the same day. The mother was critically ill, and was in a further away village with her family, and did not even know. On Wednesday we heard the wife had also died the previous evening, of HIV related TB. I was told that both the husband and wife were positive, but the wife had not been taking medication for some reason. Instead of being taken to the hospital she had been taken home, further away from any facilities. Two days of mourning and wailing women really forces you to consider the situation here, especially when it affects the people you work with so directly. This male teacher is our support teacher, he is friendly, intelligent and involved with the AIDS Action Club and events. But he also has a mistresss and child in the north of Zambia, something he doesn't hide. There seems to be nothing wrong culturally with this behavoiur, but it is tearing the country apart in front of our eyes. Its devistating.

Coming back to Kabwe for a few days has let me enjoy a bed, shower and proper toilet for a few days, and let me destress on the frustrations I have in placement.

But for now its back to the bush until April.....

2nd place as Mr SHEP