Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Today was Mrs. Bhota’s, our cook, birthday. The students wanted to do something for her. We were advised on what to buy, nothing frivolous. We got a triple pot set 18”, 16”, and 14” with lids (these huge things that we would never use unless you are dining with extended family and making soup) and enough money to buy a large bag of nisma (She-ma), their staple food, which came to about $15.00. We gave her the pots and she was overwhelmed.

You do not often get a present on your birthday, especially from people you work for. She hugged every person, which once again there is very little hugging between genders. Then when we gave her the card with the money in it she did a little dance. The giver always gets the blessing. Later she told me that her children could not believe that we gave her so much. They said, “They must really love you.”

Thursday, January 22

We have traveled two to three days a week to go to more remote villages. After you leave the paved roads you start puddle jumping . These barely one lane terra cotta sand and dirt roads are a ride at an amusement park, especially on a bus. The driver’s helper would get out and use a broom handle to see how deep the water was -sometimes we went right through them, sometimes at an angle and we were sure the bus would tip over, and then sometimes we would go into the adjoining field. When we would get through an “iffy” one everyone would clap. On our last trip we couldn’t go through or around the water, so the bus driver got out with an axe and started chopping down trees, so we could continue. We, Americans, enjoyed it, but the Zambian women would get very anxious, pray, or call out for their loved ones.

We left early for a remote village to spend the day, almost a two hour bumpy ride. The people greet you by shaking hands and then into the church of a formal greeting where important people from the village, World Hope personnel, and of course the stars of the show, “the white family” are introduced and several give welcome speeches, prayers, and song. I really shouldn’t have said “stars” because a taxi driver at the hotel told Brad that most Africans think that Americans think they are “STARS” because of the way they act and expect to be treated.

Women cooked all day, goat, chicken (we cannot quite figure out the pieces), nisma, cabbage, and few things I am not sure of. We tried to help, but we are not real skilled at this type of cooking, so they laughed at us a lot. We are great at bringing joy to all the Zambians in this way.

While we were there we helped to build a piggery. The women form a line and pass the bricks down to move them from one place to the other while the men mostly watch. Women do most all the work while men do very little, especially in the villages. Women are still considered more or less property. It is changing in the towns and cities and in the churches where women are becoming more respected. (I have pictures that I am trying to send).

We didn’t really get much of the piggery done. We played with the children and interacted with the adults. Their favorite thing is to have their picture taken. Some have rarely ever seen themselves. Praise God for digital cameras. One old man wanted me to take his picture and when he saw it he looked down to see if it was true that he was wearing the same outfit that he saw in the picture. He kept pointing to the picture and then to himself and all I could do was nod and say, “Yes, that is you.”

We had a good time and even got some sun which will help us stand out even more. Of course no sun on the legs those are covered with our thrilling chitenges (sha tang a), the wrap around skirts that the thin Zambian women look so good in and then someone like me with no waist looks like a decorated column. They wrap and tuck, I wrap and pin.

Once again thank you for your prayers.