Monday 16 February 2015

learning

so i moved to africa. here’s five things i’ve discovered so far...

1. i’m more likely to get eaten by a hippo than to pick the correct key to open my front door.

i don’t know why there are twenty keys on the key ring for my house, but i’ve been told that’s the way it has to be. i spend a chunk of time each day searching for keys in haystacks for all sorts of other buildings too. over one hundred and fifty keys come to my house every night in a brown bag. i kind of know what eight of them do, but remain fairly convinced that the rest of them are just there to teach me patience.

a small percentage of my key stash pictured here
2. i shouldn’t be allowed to have a pet.

it sounds kind of heartless, but i don’t really like pets... and i’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual. i have to have a dog here for safety reasons, so i arrived and was greeted by my new dog kelly. i referred to kelly as a ‘she’ for a few weeks before someone kindly pointed out that she was a dude. kelly is brown and white and is a breed of some sort who i suspect now has a touch of gender dysphoria. in my fist week here he got locked in a room at our project over night. i didn’t notice he hadn’t followed me home. then just a few days ago i accidentally locked him in a shipping container for an hour on a 57 degree day. he only escaped by way of an accidental intervention from one of my colleagues. i’m not a great pet owner, and it turns out they have a host of good reasons to not like me. in other news, i probably shouldn’t have children.

kelly reluctantly posing for a selfie with me
3. my feet will never be clean again.

i only have to take four or five steps out my front door before my feet are 12 shades darker than they should be. mwandi is built on sand. it’s rainy season here so some days the sand is a bit clumpy and wet. other days it resembles a beach... kind of... but no matter what the weather is doing, the sand gravitates to my feet like i gravitate to donut king - meant to be close together at all times. i scrub about nine layers of skin off my feet every night in the shower to attempt to get them clean. my pumice stone has halved in volume and i think my feet may have gone down a size or two due to the lost skin layers. i see children’s shoes in my future.

the result of a four-minute morning stroll
4. jobs that should take five minutes will always take at least three hours.

i haven’t always had the best of times when dealing with zambian immigration, but i was assured that this time would be smooth sailing... and it almost was. i got served immediately when i entered the building and it seemed like the five minute job was only going to take two minutes. i thought i was about to leave, only to be informed at the last moment by the officer serving me that they didn’t have a photocopier and they needed a copy of my documents before i could get my passport stamped and leave. i was told i had to take my almost-completed documents to a hotel (kind of nearby... but not as nearby as i was initially led to believe) to get them to do a photocopy. once this was done i had to line up all over again to give them my copy and get the magical stamp in my passport. i eventually made it back to the front of the line only to be told that the person who operated the stamp for people with surnames beginning with ‘w’ was not in the office so i’d have to wait a bit longer. five minute job took three hours.

two year visa... if i last that long :-)
5. this place is good for my soul.


i’ve spent the past month working harder than i ever have in my life. i work ten to twelve hours a day, six days a week... although it is sunday today (theoretically my day off) and i’ve just worked for eleven hours :-) it’s hard. it’s hot. i don’t know anywhere near enough to get through most of my days. sometimes i’m frustrated. sometimes i cry. sometimes the stories of the children i’m working with rip my heart out of my chest... but other times their stories gather the pieces of my broken heart and put it back together. orphaned and vulnerable children are not voiceless like some are inclined to say. they don’t require me to be their voice. they require you and i to take the time to listen to their voice. i’ve discovered it to be one of the best sounds in my world... one that restores peace and contentment to my soul. you should totally come and hear them for yourself.

one of the amazing kids i get to hang out with every day