Coreyography

Teachin' Ain't Easy

I'M STILL IN: Livingstone, Zambia
NEXT UP: Two more weeks of Livingstone, then Namibia

As one of my favorite high school teachers used to say - woo!  This teaching is hard stuff.  To all my friends and family members who are teachers: you have my profound respect.  Not like you didn't have it before, but now, wow, I am in awe of you.  I have ended up with three Grade 8 English classes (about 50 students per class).  No one has mentioned anything about Geography and I haven't either (I think that me teaching Geography is not the best idea) so this has worked out well.  At the end of every day in the classroom I feel completely mentally and physically spent and am generally wanting to have a drink (or five).  Teaching here is not volunteer work for the feint of heart, and so far has been lacking the warm fuzzies I associate with volunteering.  This is actual work work.  Like with lesson plans and mountains of "marking" and staff meetings and bored students mocking my American accent.  I'm sure this will feel rewarding at some point.  Perhaps when I am on a beach somewhere?

Home life, however, is the rosy part of my day.  It's fun to cook again (the spaghetti went over tepidly but the the guacamole I made yesterday was a smash hit) and fun to be around folks most all the time.  I especially enjoy Matildah's kids, seven year-olds Judy and Joshua and twelve year-old Francis.  They are sweet and smart and good fun.  They like to watch American wrestling (WWE) and have a lot of questions for me about the various wrestlers, mostly John Cena.  For what it's worth, they completely ignored and rejected my unsolicited assertion that wrestling is fake.   

Meanwhile, this is equal parts disturbing and hilarious.  "Eh," you might be thinking, "if I bother to click, will there be a photograph of a squirrel dressed up as Fidel Castro?"  Yes.  "What about a squirrel dressed as JonBenet Ramsey?"  Correct.  Also pics of squirrel-Pope, squirrel-Sandra Day O'Connor and a squirrel-Rastafarian, among many others.  I honestly can't decide how I feel about this.

So a week and a half of school left, then back on the road.  Looking forward!

Nothing Like a Fresh Coat of Paint

I'M STILL IN: Livingstone, Zambia
NEXT UP: Living in Livingstone

Hello, how are you?  Greetings are very important here in Africa (which I think is quite nice) and I must respond to this question at least 100 times a day.  The answer is that I am doing quite well.  I've spent the past few days painting three bathrooms at the Lubasi Home orphanage outside of Livingstone (poor quality pictures of the before and after of one of them updated on Flickr).  Since the children there are school-aged and school is currently in session, this was the best project for me to do and it was fun and gratifying.  But I did miss working with kids, a situation I will rectify tomorrow when I start volunteering at a local primary school.  I will be teaching 8th graders English and Geography (!) for a few weeks.  I'm quite excited and a little nervous, especially as my knowledge of African geography is sketchy.  Hopefully I won't inflict any permanent damage on the youngsters.

And life in the compound has been most interesting.  I am the only white person for a many-block radius and sometimes I feel like a celebrity of sorts.  Children see me coming and shout either, "Muzungu!" or more often, "Hello, how are you?"  Both water and electricity are regularly cut off in the compound, which adds complexity (will I be able to take a shower?  will we have power to cook inside or have to use charcoal outside again?).  But people couldn't be friendlier or more welcoming, which is heartwarming.  My host Matildah has been spoiling me rotten in the traditional African way of treating guests like royalty.  I've been eating boatloads of nshima, the Zambian national dish, but tonight I'm going to cook Western food for the family.  Everyone likes spaghetti, right?  At night we watch a lot of Nigerian movies, which are like super violent soap operas.  There are a few of them that are just nonstop killing, but the kids' favorite is about a guy named Isaac who gets a girl pregnant, then denies he is the father because he wants to go to Rome with his priest/sponsor.  But then he is forced to marry the woman and he resents her and beats her up and is verbally abusive.  I comment early and often that I think Isaac is a big fat jerk and make the boys promise never, ever to treat a woman in this manner.  They think this movie is hilarious.

Reports of classroom activity to come, wish me luck!

Fabulous Victoria Falls

I'M IN: Livingstone, Zambia
NEXT UP: Compound life!

After a harrowing bus trip from Lusaka which tested my Traveler Mettle in several ways, I arrived in Livingstone last week.  I spent a few days doing various errands and visited a home for disabled children where a traveler friend of mine is volunteering.  I finally went to Victoria Falls yesterday and what a trip!  Vic Falls is definitely another high expectation exceeder, really amazing.  I found it impossible not to be completely giddy in the face of such a natural wonder. I had a great time tramping along the various trails, although a snakier locale I have never seen.  I was convinced I would see Kaa at any moment, but thankfully did not.  I did see several other kinds of creatures, lots of lizards, a really interestingly huge insect with yellow antennae and two Hornbilled Warblers who sounded like a combination of cats meowing and a (human) baby crying - a very odd noise for a bird to be making.  I was less happy about my walk down to "the boiling pot" at the base of the falls.  Apparently this walk is easier in the dry season, but this time of year it involved lots of scrambling over rocks and wading through streams up to your waist.  I felt like I was going to die at several points, but then I am a wimp.  When I got back to town my Zambian friend Matildah said, "Oh NO - this walk is too dangerous, many white people die doing this walk."  Gives one pause when considering other extreme sports to pursue here, but like I said, I am a wimp.

Since parting with my Dad and Stepmom, I have hit a travel wall of sorts.  I've been feeling somewhat ambivalent about seeing more and more places.  I am still quite happy to be on the road and traveling, I have just developed an extreme aversion to moving about and specifically to packing and unpacking my backpack.  Lucky me: a solution to this problem presented itself the other night.  My friend Matildah has offered for me to stay with her and her family for the next few weeks in a compound (like a township - an area where locals live) outside of Livingstone.  I made her sleep on this offer for two nights because it is so generous!  All is well and I'm headed out this afternoon.  It is a full household: two of Matildah's kids live there, along with her sister Agnes and her son, and two teenaged boys who Matildah has adopted.  I'm looking forward to getting to know the family and also to hopefully volunteer at a nearby orphanage - will go and see about this tomorrow.  The cheapskate in me will feel better about spending a bit more time in Zambia at any rate given that the visa cost $125!  I'm also looking forward to Valentine's Day tomorrow, as Zambians seem to take this holiday very seriously.  There are roses for sale everywhere and the main radio station here will be playing "personal messages of love" all day tomorrow, can't wait to hear what these entail.  And happy Valentine's Day to you!

I Choo Choo Choose You

I'M IN: Lusaka, Zambia
NEXT UP: Victoria Falls

Yes, the train from Dar to Zambia was indeed quite an experience and I enjoyed almost all of it.  There is something about train travel that feels so free and the clickety clack of the train chugging along is nicely conducive to sleep and relaxation.  Unfortunately there were many stops, planned and unplanned, that were very effective at interrupting sleep and peace of mind.  Several planned stops occurred during the first night and then one long unplanned stop which started about 5:00 a.m. and lasted well into the afternoon.  What was the problem?  "Es loco," I thought attendant said.  "Es verdad!" I replied thinking we were speaking Spanish for some reason, but no, it was the locomotive who was the culprit and we waited for a new one to come from somewhere or another, then were off again. 

The second night we crossed the Zambian border, which meant very little sleep as officials came around to the cabins stamping passports.  Masa, a Japanese man staying next door to me, (by this late in the journey we both had our 6-person cabins to ourselves) had some problems getting his visa on the border.  The three Zambian immigration officials were like the Marx Brothers in a Robert Altman movie, all speaking at the same time and employing odd gestures.  At one point the five of us (the three officials, Masa and myself) were all standing in my cabin looking quizzically at each other.  One of the officials kept saying, "I have reports to write.  REPORTS!"  Another, "We have no change.  No change.  You need change.  Change."  This was because Masa did not have $50, he had three $20 bills.  I gave him ten ones, but that also would not work.  "Our bank will not recognize these.  No no no no no no no.  No."  The three officials left in a huff without giving Masa his visa, telling him to get his visa in Kimpiri Mposhi.  As they were exiting the train, an entire family was getting on in our car: mom with a huge basin full of clothes on her head, Dad carrying two heavy suitcases and two kids aged 2-5 who were dancing down the aisle at 3:00 a.m.  Masa and I both got a huge kick out of these dancing kids, so energetic and happy so early in the morning.  Too cute. 

By the time we arrived in Kimpiri Mposhi (the 40-hour trip ended up taking 54 hours) I was both greasy and grumpy.  This condition was exacerbated when I realized that:

a) someone in the train station had gone through my backpack (they stole bandaids and my padlock - not sure what to make of that, but happy they didn't take anything irreplaceable: to the left, to the left);
b) that there are no places to stay in Kimpiri Mposhi;
c) the bus to Lusaka would take another 3 hours;
d) the bus was not leaving until it was full;
e) full means 16 people in a minivan; and
f) I had no Zambian money. 

Masa was kind enough to lend me the cash and an hour later at 10:00 p.m. (once the bus was full full oh so freaking full) we set off for Lusaka with reggae a'blarin'.

Lonely Planet pooh poohs Lusaka pretty hard, but I've found it lovely.  For one thing, they have a very nice movie theater pretty close to my hostel.  I managed to see three movies in just over 24 hours, which was just fantastic.  There is also lots of easy shopping here, so I've been able to re-stock on items stolen and otherwise consumed.  And thirdlywise, there is an American embassy here, this being the capital, and I got more visa pages put into my passport.  How insufferable is that?  But it did need to get done.  So tomorrow I head off to Livingstone, which bills itself as the "adrenaline capital of Southern Africa."  Most of these activities are out of my budget, but maybe I can justify doing something or another.  From there, I'm thinking of going to Namibia, as everyone I've met is telling me it's the bomb biggety, go immediately, etc.

Hey: someone cheezburgered one of my safari pictures!  Fantastic.  Who did this?