Firstly there was the Mponde agricultural show which was held at our school. The week was spent making a fence around the football pitch out of dried grass and sticks (I never really found out what the purpose of this was but it did give the whole thing a safari-look), and then stalls were constructed using the same material. On the actual day, after running 4 hours late, the event was opened by the local headman, and the local schools performed some cultural Zambian dances. One of these was a bizarre 'healing ceremony', in which the girls splashed themselves with water and then rolled around on the floor as if they were having a fit. Very strange.
Getting ready to dance
Splash and roll. I never found out what exactly they were meant to be healing...
After the dancing and singing I got to explore the rest of the show, mainly stalls run by different agricultural corporations showing off their produce. There was a lot of maize (Zambians are very proud of their maize), but also some other crops I hadn't seen or tasted before. Some of the women's groups had been creative a made jams, fritters and other goodies to be tasted. They were all eager to tell me all about their farm and group, and wanted me to try everything, so at least I got to sample a wide variety of traditional Zambian foods, some which were yummy, some just about edible, and some vomit inducing (bean leaf jam was certainly in this category).
Soya cake
These crazy things are from the cucumber family - but much more slimey
An agricultural corporation that also sensitizes on HIV/AIDS, condoms with your pumpkin?
Sorgum, looks pretty but tastes like ground up cardboard
A women's corporation who are trying to earn some extra cash and feed their families
Sleeping by the stall
The other event of the week was Day of an African Child, which involved all the schools doing yet more dancing, singing, drama and poems, while the teachers basically enjoyed a day off work. Mercy, me and two teachers were supposed to be in charge of our pupils at the event. The male teacher didn't show 'til the end of the day though, and completely drunk off his face. In front of all the kids he was swaggering around, slurring his words and generally being a prick. No wonder the pupils have no respect for the teachers.
Getting the best view
The other teacher spent the entire day telling me about how she was bewitched by her husband's ex-wife. Apparently this woman used to follow her to collect the soil from where her left foot had trod, and then performed black magic. She is convinced that this women caused her first baby to die, also through some witchcraft. Then she proceeded to tell me how her heart had been growing 'too big', and the doctor had told her she would die if she didn't go to South Africa for an operation. Of course this is completely out of reach for a normal Zambian. So she did what all Zambians would do and turned to the power of prayer. Apparently she went to the same doctor a week later, and he told her the operation had been successful. She now believes that the holy spirit performed the operation for her.
That's the trouble with being here is that everyone believes in this crazy stuff, sometimes its hard to figure out what is the truth, what is fact, what are just strange cultural beliefs, and who are the outright mad people. The other day I was walking home past a friend's house, and heard shouting and screaming from inside, with all the children gathered outside. I was concerned about what was going on, but the oldest boy, Justin, who is 12, told me that his aunt was being rid of demons. I asked Mercy about it and she was horrified that I didn't believe in demons. Then she asked if I was a satanist. When I explained we just don't believe in this stuff at home, and that it you don't believe it doesn't happen to you she got very serious and warned me to be careful as the demons would get me. Back in the UK I would be dragged off to the psycho ward for believing in demons, but here I'm thought of as the loony for not believing. I think if I stay here much longer my perception of the real and fantasy will blur beyond distinction. If I'm crazy by September its not my fault, honest.
But despite all the weird and wonderful happenings, the sunset is still beautiful, and reminds me there is at least one thing in common with home.
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