A Day in the Life (of me of course!)

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(this was written a few days ago but I didn’t feel like posting two at once)

My mom wanted to know what an ordinary day in my life is like. I’m afraid I can’t actually oblige because ordinary has come to mean something entirely different. Living here you become used to everything being strange. While at the beginning everything seems worth mentioning (peacocks in the front yard, chameleons on the ceilings at night, sleeping under mosquito nets, being followed by cab drivers, 3-4 daily marriage proposals from strangers) at this point even the strangest occurrences pass into a little slot in my mind which just repeats, “Well…what do I expect? This is Africa after all”.

But just to make Melinda happy I’ll tell you ALL about my day yesterday.

I woke up around 7 in the morning; the power was still out from last night which meant no running water. Luckily this wasn’t such a problem because I’m used to it. I brushed my teeth and washed my face with bottled water and just took a Clementine for breakfast because I wasn’t in the mood for cold toast. My walk to clinic is roughly 40-45 minutes and I’m always covered in dirt by the time I get there. My big decision of the morning is whether or not to wear headphones while I walk. The value of listening to music is I don’t have to respond to EVERY SINGLE person who talks to me on the way to work…I’m not so fond of talking first thing in the morning, and a 45 minute walk tends to require a lot of it. At least every fifth person I pass wants to talk to me and it’s always the same conversation which gets a little tiresome. The problem with listening to music is that a number of people will completely ignore the fact that I have headphones on and start conversations anyways. Nine out of ten conversations will end in the person asking me for my phone number.

Not counting pedestrian dodging, walking is a treacherous event. One must always watch the ground in front of them because you have no way of knowing when the ground will simply disappear. No, I don’t mean the sidewalk will disappear, there are no such things as sidewalks to begin with, I mean the ground. 3 meter deep holes pepper the sides of the roads…remnants of idealistic construction projects long since forgotten. Occasionally one spots a construction worker who appears to be considering work…but it’s a rare event (ironically, after writing this I foolishly attempted to walk a whopping 2 blocks after dark and found myself suddenly up to my waist in a hole. By some rare twist of fate I didn’t actually break my leg). As I walk, men approach selling me fruits and vegetables, live chickens, plungers, coat hangers, wicker chairs, pirated dvds, everything you could ever want and puppy dogs too.

To reach the clinic quickly I pass over train tracks and under fences, it’s a well traveled path, I wonder if the trains ever come.

After the train tracks comes Cairo road. The US embassy advises travelers to avoid Cairo road on trips to Lusaka. I work there. Its not such a bad place really, just crowded with drunken vendors and the occasional wannabe pick-pocket. No one has even bothered to try pick-pocketing me yet…I guess they weigh their options and decide they’d rather try their luck at asking me to marry them instead. So far…they’ve yet to be successful in that domain either. I’m thinking one of these days I’ll say yes just to see what they do.

At clinic our one tiny room is packed with people. Fernando, Phridae, Ntula and Justine are the permanent Zambian staff; along with them is Michael (my new best friend until July when he too shall leave), Alina (the latest arrival from America whom hopefully I will get to know over the next few months) and two MORE white people I’ve never seen before. The two new people, it soon becomes obvious, are basically walk in volunteers. Michael talks to them for a while before getting annoyed…over the next two months we will be in up to our noses with volunteers and the last thing we need is two more random uncommitted short term volunteers. Tuesday mornings we have our weekly “Team Meeting”. Today, there are too many projects. For a team of 7 or 8 people, with absolutely no money, we seem to be working on projects with every Christian organization in town that has access to orphans, or simply children in general.

After the meeting we go to get coffee. I order the Zambian version of an iced coffee…which of course includes chocolate ice cream (how can I resist? I have one a day). I sort papers, we make bar graphs, we write emails and complain about various things that bother us. We’re here until roughly 1:30 when we head back to clinic. Clinic officially starts at 2:00 but clients start coming at 8:00, depending on the number of people I may spend all day in the clinic, but it was a slow day. My job is basically a secretary/manager/nurse/pharmacist. I usher people around, organize files, do preliminary check-ups, yell at the permanent staff, dispense pills and do paperwork. It would be very tedious except I’ve gotten to know most of the clients and its always interesting to try my hand at diagnosing and recognizing ailments (don’t worry; they all see a real doctor after me). Some days are hard….I’m still not at the point of being able to comfortably talk about it. That’s for a time in the future…once I can see everything in perspective.

After clinic Michael and I take a bus to the French School where we have afternoon tea. Yoga is from 6 till 7:30. Yoga is half workout and half networking. Every day has different business to attend to as it is assured that the heads of nearly every major NGO with a female in charge will be there. Today I am looking for someone from the American School. I’ve decided to take up tutoring again, a minor income couldn’t hurt. The American School is only for Americans, large American contractors send their employees’ children there. Tutoring fees are paid by the companies as well. She assures me they always need math tutors. The fee is a fraction of what I get in the US but more than Dr. Meade gets paid for a consultation! Crazy country….

After yoga I (usually) get a ride home to avoid death by well-placed ditch. After lighting my mosquito coil (fabulous invention) I eat a small dinner, take a bath, and watch Planet Earth. I’m usually in bed by 9.

That's all...I'm currently staying on a farm with 40 street boys. A nice weekend retreat from the city...will perhaps say more about it later...either way, goodnight!

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