Last moments of Mumbwa

So the Mumbwa adventure is over. The classrooms of Makasa no longer ring with my singing (painful as it is), my hut stands empty, pit latrine unused and my many friends, colleagues and other Mumbwa inhabitants wondering where the muzungu (white person) has gone.

The last week in placement flew by, and my emotions were on some massive rollercoaster, no aided by packing stress and a massive pile of washing that took 4 hours. Seriously, someone needs to bring washing machines to Zambia. I even have washing scars now.


At Mumbwa caves with the Church youth group.

I spent the last weekend in placement visiting all my favourite Mumbwa sights, and trying to do all the typical Zambian things I can't do at home. I visited the 'caves' with the church youth - caves is rather an exaggeration, they are really a few large rocks, but they are pretty cool and give you lots of climbing opportunities. The other girls also seemed to read church youth trip as fashion shoot, so brought along a number of short skirts and slutty dresses to change into behind the bush and pose on rocks. I'm not sure where this all came from, they certainly couldn't wear these clothes out and about in Mumbwa, anything above the knee is seen as prostitute wear.


Laura, Clara and me trying to keep warm at the hot springs

We spent Farmers' Day (another of Zambia's seemingly pointless public holidays, but it gives everyone a chance to get pissed and miss work all week) at the hot springs with a group of friends from the University of Zambia in Lusaka. I don't think I've ever seem so many dead animals in one place - a huge bucket of sausages, 10 chickens and 3 goats. All carried for about 3 kms on people's heads. Unfortunatly, despite the name including the word 'hot', by early evening it was freezing, so most of the time was spent huddled round charcoal. Thank goodness for a cosy sleeping bag to jump into at home.


The Makasa teaching staff on closing day

The saddest part was saying goodbye to all the pupils and teachers I've worked with over the past 7 months. In many ways I wish I was staying for the last term to see how they all get on, even though in many ways it's time to move on. My school has now phased out of the programme, so they will no longer receive volunteers, I just hope that sometimes they remember the things we have done together and decide to continue at least some of the activities we've implemented.

Most of all I will miss the little things that make life in Zambia different and make me love just being here - the many friends I have made, who I can just sit and chat with about anything. My girls who come to me with bizare relationship issues (they think I'm somehow the boyfriend expert - how wrong you can be - haha!), and the boys who ask the strangest sexual health questions, from do you go blind if you masturbate to will you be immune to HIV if you eat chicken that has eaten ARVs (HIV treatment) - why would you feed a chicken you're HIV treatment? I will miss the many families who have adopted me as another daughter, aunt, sister, cousin... and always have a spot on their sofa/brick for me. I will miss the children who run around in the dust in rags and are always happy, I will miss them shouting 'Aunty Aaaasala' from the other end of the road, I will miss them dancing around me and playing football in the street. I'll miss evening chats around the brazier with my neighbours. Most of all I'll miss the warm smiling faces of every Zambian, friend and stranger alike.


Saying goodbye to one of my best Zambian friends, Melina


Some of the cutest, funniest kids on earth


My favourite fritter seller - 8 year old Mwansa. She sits under the tree each and every day making a few kwacha for her family. Her father is dead. Her mother has a new husband and has left her with an aunt who doesn't give her attention. It broke my heart to tell her I couldn't be her mum.


A skill I have failed to master, just one of the everyday scenes I see on my morning runs


My adopted mum at her restaurant, which serves massive helpings of traditional Zambian food


And Dad, who spends most of his time day-dreaming out the window


My supermarket



As a treat for the last day I bakes brownies using the brazier (well really I wanted to try baking in a brazier and packing was too stressful, so brownies helped avert mass hysteria). I have to say the didn't really look like the picture on the packet, but then I don't think they cooked them using charcoal, and I'm not sure they would have come out much better using an oven - my baking skills probably had more to do with the funny look. The charcoal I dropped in while taking a peak added extra crunch anyway.



So finally the day of graduation has been and gone. We all got to dress up and look pretty (OMG a mirror is a shock!), and I got to give a speech to my fellow volunteers, which was a lovely way to say goodbye. At the moment I think the emotions are too mixed to feel sad, happy or excited - there is just a sense of emptiness and a feeling of limbo, between one world and another. Its as if I'm slowly traveling back to reality, and the whole experience has been a vivid dream. Maybe it will be when I'm back in the UK, with my souvenirs and photos spread out that it will hit.


The Mumbwa volunteers proudly holding their certificates

For now the adventure continues - tomorrow I plan to head to Malawi for a few days of swimming, sun bathing (I have some very dodgy tan lines to sort out), partying and chilling out - living the dream for a while longer