early morning yoga

It is safe to assume that I am not doing yoga but my friend Sam is right now in the insaka and killing it. Relaxation to the fullest.

My friend Lea is having a Valentine's party and thus there are 8 white people gathered in this small Zambian village. I don't think the villagers have ever seen such an epidemic.

It is so nice to be with other volunteers. It is a spirit booster. We all go through very similar and different struggles. Just laughing it out with someone is awesome. My friend Graham described the experience well. He said everyday is reverse National Geographic. People sit and stare at us when we do the most mundane tasks: sitting outside, washing dishes, walking, etc. It is like we are the animals at the game park. Somedays it is whatever and somedays it sucks.

Yesterday while traveling here we used a taxi from the boma. The taxi didn't know how to get to Lea's place exactly and so we got dropped in the bush at someone random's house. A man getting high we have never met picked up our 30 bananas and showed us down some overgrown bush paths to Lea's place. As we were reflecting on this while walking... When did this become normal and stopped phasing any of us?

Zambia. Goodness.

On a different note: I love my pupils. I hated making those valentines for them. It was awful. On the flip side... I have never seen people so grateful. It felt like every single one wanted to thank me personally. It was so worth it. I love my 90 babies.

That is all for this random blog.

watermelon for all

It was a rough day. I was accused of gender based violence because I have two separate clubs for boys and girls. I was happy to sit and eat nshima with my family but my dad was a bit drunk. He had a lot to say about every little thing I have done wrong in the village. My garden is going to fail. My pig pen is awful. My Bemba sucks. It was hard to listen to once but I had to hear it multiple times because of when he is drunk he repeats himself a lot. So I sat through an hour lecture in Bem-Glish understanding it all even though my Bemba sucks.

My Bataata is honestly such a kind man and does so much for me. Of course I cried a little but I am taking what he said and running with it. I know he said those things out of love and wants me to be successful. He wants my garden to reap a good harvest. He doesn't want my pigs to die or run away. He wants me to able to communicate with the people. It just came off really rude.

I stopped my current garden and moved out the field like he suggested. Yesterday my bataata, the village secretary, some kids and I went out planting watermelon. I was thinking maybe 5 plants. My Bataata has big plans for me. We planted over 100 watermelons yesterday and he says this is just the beginning. Today we are going to plant more... honeydew, butternut squash, zucinni, cucumbers, etc. He gave me a field.

I am going to get churchy really quick. I feel like this is a good example of  our father in heaven. He isn't drunk. No. But just like my Bataata has been observing me, Heavenly Father is watching and ready to take our small gardens and make them into fields. He has huge plans for us. The hardest part is humbling ourselves, stopping what we are doing and ask for help.

My Bataata is also doing all the hard work. He digs, weeds and I put in the seeds and cover with dirt. I have the easy job. The power of humbling yourself and asking.

There is going to be watermelon for all,
Happy pigs,
And a msungu that can outspeak you in icibemba.

The last one probably won't happen because I wasn't blessed with a language brain but I won't give up.