A second lesson, this time in the art of Zamtalk L/R reversal

Have I written about the Zambian L/R switch yet? And no, it's not left/right switch (although I've found that directions and determining between left and right can be challenging here too), but it's literally switching Ls for Rs and vice versa. I guess in Nyanja the difference isn't all that great, and with the Zambian accent both Ls and Rs are trilled allowing for easy mix-ups, but we hear it ALL the time from coaches who are implementing our "culliculum" (curriculum).

Right now I'm reading tons of applications from people who want to be GRS coaches and for some reason seeing the L/R switch written is that much more hilarious. So far I've come across:

• Someone who claimed to do XYZ in their "dairy life" (translation = "daily life")
• Someone else who wants "the privirege of working with GRS" (translation = "privilege")
• Someone who has the skill of "cloud control" (read = crowd control. Although cloud control would be nice when we have outdoor events during the rainy season)
• Someone who is "royal to all activities" (royal, loyal, same difference).

Letters are also often just forgotten in words. And not because they're not pronounced. Just because...they're easy to forget. The best one I've seen (and I showed it to my Zambian coworkers who died too) is someone who wrote:

• "I don't think I will have any problems because I won't shit soon."

Here, "to shift" means to move, but the person conveniently got mixed up and forgot the F! Whoops. I laughed so hard.

One or two last ones? I'll try to snap a picture of this soon, but on the way to a new(ish) area where we're working there's a sign on the side of the road that reads, "supriers of blocks" (instead of "suppliers"), and of course, you can never forget that this year is an "erection year" (otherwise known as an "election year") - Zambia is trying to get more women involved in politics. My coworkers favorite saying or misquotation? "Women need to be on top this erection!"

Finding rhythms in the daily

It's easy to get comfortable in your routine and feel like there's nothing to report on. There are no epic travels (soon to change when momma and poppa Billick get here and we hit up Botswana and Cape Town, nothing so new and titillating and exciting that I feel the need to sit down and word vomit onto a webpage or a blogpost. But in that comfort zone friendships are built and sustained, work is accomplished, things are learned (grant-writing, in my case), and epic times, casual times, memories are created in the safe zone.

Jamie's house is an African oasis. He lives in a guest house behind an older couple who have lived in Zambia for decades. His cabana (for lack of a better word...although I really SHOULD start calling him their cabana boy...) is amidst a lush flower-filled garden, next to a sheltered bar and table area outdoors, and wedged next to a pool that adds the perfect lounge factor to any hot weekend afternoon.

The slowing down of VCT events on Saturdays (at least compared to in the fall...we still have them about every other week) allows for more time and space to relax. Less constant hyperdrive. The last Saturday of each month is the Dutch Market, a panoply of crafts - both Zambian and imported - clothes, blankets, decorations, jewelry, food (all kinds of hard-to-get ethnic things here like big Chinese dumplings, French crepes, salsa, street-food-like noodles, etc.) and a generally jovial atmosphere. I'm going to hit it up tomorrow with a few of the other interns. My new room (I moved after Lena, one of the fellows, moved out) and the walls are looking far to bare for my liking...

Zam texts - an introduction

Please forgive my lag in blogging - it's been a rough few weeks but I'm on the upswing. I messed up my neck about 3 1/2 weeks ago. Doing what? I'm not really sure - probably Zumba and running and poor posture and genetics and computer use and all those fun things. I'm seeing a new physiotherapist and I'm taking it VERY easy, but I got a little freaked out when I started feeling tinglies in my right arm...NOT fun, especially when you're away from home. It doesn't seem to be a disc though, so we're going to try to work it out and in the meantime I'm doing a lot of lying on my back during the hours that I'm not at work (and apparently supposed to be staying off my computer, but look how well that's turning out...).

This is the perfect opportunity to talk about Zam-texting though. What precisely is Zam-texting? Well since phones are pay-as-you-go here, and calling people is relatively expensive, everyone text messages instead. I have yet to get used to some of the spellings of words though. I mean, I understand writing "u" or "ur" for "you" or "your" - it's easier and shorter too if there's a limit on the number of letters. But other substitutions barely make sense or are just comical. Where is this all coming from? Here's the story: I saw a Zambian physiotherapist a couple of times, and while she was an excellent masseuse, I felt as though she wasn't 'listening to my body,' as they say, she was giving me the run-down: heat, ultrasound, massage - generic bullshit and not tailored to my body or my needs. Granted, I only saw her twice so I didn't give it ample time to improve, but I'm in a shitton of pain and she was like, "Oh yeah, just come once a week." I've endured enough hours of physio to know that she wasn't for me. After seeing this other woman this morning who I like a lot (Zambian, British parents, trained for 5 years in Melbourne) I sent the first woman a text message saying that unfortunately I would have to cancel our appointment next Tuesday. She wrote back, "Why? R U in pain?" Stumped at how to be as polite as possible while not lying, I responded, "Yes, a little bit. And the tingling in my hand is worrisome so I'm just going to take it easy and see if it improves." A bit of a white lie, but also not saying that I was magically healed so she wouldn't continue the ineffectual treatment. Her response? I'll quote it letter for letter here: "U r making a mistake. Go önline and check 4 cervical spondylosis u wil c yo symtoms. Leavin it wil just worsen it." My spoiled, elitist, North American side is going to come out right now (please be forewarned, I normally try to push this part away, but when it comes to my health, screw it), but why should I follow the advice of someone who is a) being condescending to a patient they are trying to encourage to come back? b) barely even checked me out - how does she know that's what I have? and c) gave me exercises only after I asked for them (ummm, isn't that her job?) and told me to do things that crunch one side of my neck? The second physio was like, "You should definitely NOT be turning and crunching to the right." Clearly I'm a little frustrated, but if nothing else I have a Zam-text story to share with you. Now all I've got to do is get on fixing this neck...

Hitting reset

At the halfway point I feel the need to sit down and reevaluate why I'm here and why I'm doing what I'm doing. It's so easy to get bogged down in petty details (meat pies at VCT events?), that I lose scope and start concentrating on the daily intricacies without the broader viewpoint of why I'm here: for education, for empowerment, for sport and development, for the kids, for giving myself and growing myself and learning. Readjust. Reset your priorities. Remind yourself why you're here.

A shortage of Coke Light...what an atrocity!

There's a Coke Light shortage in Lusaka. Not a Diet Coke shortage (it doesn't exist here), not a Coke shortage (ubiquitous and unavoidable, as it is in most places throughout the globe), not a Pepsi Light shortage (a newly-opened plant in Lusaka covers that territory) but Coke Light. I've surveyed about 5 different grocery stores and 3 or 4 different gas stations that have been known to stock the addictive caffeine-laden soft drink, but to no avail. It's not even that I crave it so intensely, but the mere knowledge that it's nowhere to be found piques my interest, jogs my yearnings, and leaves me determined to find it at any cost. Scouring shelves, asking stock-boys why it's missing or when it's coming in, contemplating packing my purse the one time I find it out at a bar on a Saturday night...It becomes a mission, solely for the game of it. It also causes me to re-evaluate what we so often take for granted at home: the ease of acquiring a Diet Coke, the size and shape of soda cans (they come in heavier cans here, deceptively sturdy, so you think you have a whole mouthful left when all that remains is really only a trickle), recycling the leftover aluminum (or pinching off the tab to apparently make wheelchairs – why they can't use the entire can I still can't figure out...). It forces me to remember that despite the fact that we have big South African chain supermarkets out here, things still often work at a different pace. And you know what? Often they do eventually materialize – I walked into the store Monday and guess what was stacked 4 feet high? Six-packs of Coke Light. I have yet to buy one...