U-Turn to Macha

So a quick update: I’m back in Lusaka again, and if I didn’t tell you anything else you wouldn’t know the difference. But I will. On Monday night after my first day of internet, I was chatting with a man at the backpacker’s lodge, and a synchronicity in the air meant that as my meeting with my NGO was pushed back, he created an incredible opportunity: an invitation to stay with this brother in a village for a week while the papers got sorted out in Lusaka. The past year and a half has been filled with these moments of decision, and I’ve learned to go for it at every opportunity, so off we go…

Wednesday, May 20th 2009

Yesterday morning I woke at 5am to start my journey to the village. I arrived at the bus station in Lusaka when it was still dark, and braced myself for the swarming that ensued when we stepped out of the cab: Boss! Taxi? Taxi! Livingstone! Ndola! Hey – where are you going!! Let me show you. Talk time? At first this type of attention made me really nervous, but I soon learned to be confident on the outside, even when I’m a little jumpy. I rode the big bus (like a greyhound in Canada) from Lusaka to Choma, whic took only 2.5 hours, and sat beside Ed, who lives in Ndola in northern Zambia, but was attending a funeral in Monze (along the way to my destination). We spoke a lot, aand he helped me learn some Tonga phrases, and pointed out many landmarks along the way, including my first glimpses of Mazabuka!

In Choma, I found the toilet and a store to buy some bread and sugar as gifts for the family I’m staying with. Then I found a truck which was going to Macha (small village 65 km away), which claimed to be leaving at 11. Afte arguing with the driver to let me see on the back of the big truck with all the people (as opposed to the white privileged front seat he offered), we proceeded to wait over 2 hours for it to fill up. I am sitting in the corner near the front of the truck, which luckily for me proves to be a shady spot. I’m surrounded by people and bags on all sides, and getting many smiles and laughs – a white man jam-packed in with all the Zambians, haha! Riding the back of a rickety farmers truck, crammed in with over 30 other people. After I explain where I am going, and that I want to learn Tonga, I jump right into another impromptu lesson. There is an old lady who must be over 60 years old, who every 5 minutes tells me another random translation which seems very impotant to her! Everything from ‘mother’ to ‘goat’ to ‘nose’ to ‘thank you’ – I’m LOVIN IT!

The ride takes almost 3 hours, and we are bumping every which way as the overloaded truck flies down a winding dirt road, which seems to be hogging all the pot-holes in the country! Arriving in Macha is bewildering again – I jump off the side of the truck into the middle of a smaller but still vibrant market. Cooking fires every 20 feet, people looking at me confused, but less rushing at me than in Lusaka. By now I’m faking confidence well, so I pick a direction and start walking that way swiftly. Once I’m out of the full view of everyone, I ask which direction to the hospital, and head there to meet Petros.

What a wonderful and welcoming man! He must have called me 3 times that day, just to see if I’m on my way safely, all just from a single phone call from his cousin (they call each other brothers) who I met at a backpacker’s lodge the night before! Petros works at the Malaria Research Institute in Macha, entering data from field work. He lives 10 or 15 mins walk from the town centre, with his mother, his wife Tabhani, 3 sons – Sean (8), Wayne (3) and Coon (7 months) and a niece and nephew. Oh yeah, don’t forget 5 dogs, 2 cows and an ox, probably 10 chickens, 15 goats and all the fun that comes with it! I am sleeping in a grass hut which is open-walled with Petros and Patrick, while the rest of family stays in two houses further back on the lot. The family grows some maize (corn) and groundnuts (peanuts) – mostly for their own consumption. Also staying with us is Patrick, Petros’ older brother who has come from Zimbabwe for 2 months to help harvest the maize. This year has been an incredible “bumper harvest” for this part of Zambia at least, with the right amount and frequency of rains (from what I’m hearing).

On my first night, I met a few peopole in the village – we stopped at the place where the local men drink, and I ahd my first encounter with polygamy as I was introduced to the 3 wives of a local man (Petros’ cousin I think). One person in particular who stood out was Ivan, whose house is close to the water tower, and who has taken advantage of flooding from the dam – he has planted a whole bunch of banana trees, and his maize crop has been exceptional. Both Petros and Patrick described him as a very smart man, who is “using his brains”.

Today Patrick showed me the hospital, the ARV’s clinic, the library and the mission – there is a primary school and a high school there, but apparantly the fees are quite high for most farmers to afford, and so not many attend. Petros’ son Sean is at the Primary School.

~ by mikeklassen on May 25, 2009.