Finally, the Post I've Been Trying to Post for 3 Weeks

Ok, here we go. Any future technical failures aside, this will be a good posting. At least I enjoy it that is. Alright...so we I have al kinds of new things to tell you. I spent a few weeks with my first experiences in several fields in Zambia. For example, I saw my city and site for the first time, I biked 130 km in less than 5 days for the first time in my life, I danced like Zambians around a fire with 40 Zambians clapping me on, I saw a naked Zambian, I went to a wedding, hitchhiked, took part in the slaying of a deadly snake (mom, don't read that paragraph), and I have made a Zambian cry.

I know your interests are peaked so let's get into it. So Mporokoso is the big town that my village is 23 kilometers away from and I got to see that for the first time. Mporokoso is a place where I can get anything I need but it still has the small town feel. The people are welcoming and very nice. The market is a very friendly size, and a bar there has Simba (an amazing beer from the Congo). Since I basically chose where I'd be going on heresay it was a guess, but it's exactly what I wanted.
Next, I went to my site for the first time. You can see pictures of it from my Pictures link to the right. My house is about 250 yards from the man's house who's land I live on. He has 6 kids I think and the whole family is very nice. He speaks perfect english because he used to teach agriculture in Lusaka. Because of this he's a very successful farmer. I reap some benefits of him doing so well for himself because Mark (the guy I'm replacing) says that his kids bring over fresh avocados, mangos, bananas, pineapples, and other treats all of the time. I can't wait. You've probably all seen pictures of my pool. I plan on utilizing that to the fullest over the next couple of years. I've met several of the fish farmers who I'll be working with and they all seem very nice and hard working. One thing I'm excited about is that there is a big refugee camp about 40 km from my house with refugees from the Congo. I'd like to get in there somehow with the UN and start some fish farming up there. I think that would be quite rewarding.
After my place Annie, Peacock (the guy she's replacing), and I rode to her place. It's about 35 km away. Her site is amazing. My site is cool as far as I have a pool, bar, dog, and other nice stuff. But she's got the surrounding scenery. She has these vast, unending prarie/savannah things that we don't have back home. And then she has these small jungle-like areas around her as well. 40 km away from her house she has the waterfalls that are in the pictures as well. They were very cool. The best thing about them is that absolutely nobody else goes to them. Aside from the fact that nobody lives within an hour walk of the waterfall, Zambians think we're crazy for going to some waterfalls just to hang out. So that night we camped at the top of the waterfalls and sat around a fire which was pretty cool. The next morning we rode home to get ready for Peacock's big going away party. His farmers/community cooked all of the food, and then pulled out their drums and started playing music. There were about 40 people present. First the kids got up and danced away. Then they they made us Peace Corps Volunteers get up and shake our money makers. I had observed some traditional dance moves (which are highly suggestive mind you) and pulled some of those out. They were enjoyed by all. That night was great.

The next morning we rode into town and caught transport heading to Kasama. Since Mporokoso is so small you never know what kind of transportation you'll get. I'll forego any Forest Gump references there. This particular morning it was a pick-up truck. Of course we were in the back. Upon departure, it wasn't too bad. About 10 of us in the back with our luggage, but still enough room to move and resituate yourself. Allow me to fast forward 6 hours as we're pulling into Kasama. There were 22 people in back (I counted), more luggage, and several bags of grain. There was a rack above the bed of the pickup where they threw the grain and of course a bag ripped right above me so I was pulling finger millet out of my hair for a couple of days. Needless to say, my bum was sore from sitting on a 6 inch wide steel I-beam for 6 hours when we reached our destination.

So after a night of partying at our Provincial House in Kasama, we made our way to a wedding in Mpika. A volunteer (who I'd never met before this) was getting married to a Zambian. The Friday night we got there was the bachelor party. We men drank beer, ate pork, and had a beer cricket game (which, by the way, is the greatest drinking game of all time). Devin and I rolled past the semis and came in a close second out of the 10 or so teams involved in the tournament. We met up with the bachelorette party that night and partied at a local bar. A good time was had by all.
The next morning was interesting. I woke up and walked to the bachelor's house to see what was happening. A few volunteers were sitting around drinking some local maize beer and chit chatting so I headed back to my tent to lay down for awhile. Just as I was laying down to listen to my iPod I heard some yelling and shouting. I sat up to see what the commotion was and just saw children and women running for their lives. Then, from behind a house emerges a naked man yelling and pointing a finger. The lady who's yard we were in said, "He's mad." My first thought was, no kidding...but I kept it to myself. So he proceeded to walk towards our tents and Devin and I just prepared ourselves to defend our stuff when some friends of the man kind of grabbed him and tried to put some pants on him. So he was about 30 feet from my tent still yelling about something when they finally got pants on him. Then he seemed to be settling down, he was telling people to take a step back and quit touching him. The problem seemed resolved. Then, which everyone a few feet back from him, he quickly undid his pants and dropped his drawers again. So he started yelling again and then made his way out to the road when a preacher ran up to him and started exercising him. He was yelling, "You're a liar, the devil is a liar. How many are you. I command you out devil." That's when I figured out that by mad she meant mental. He was mental. Apparently that happens every few weeks.
The wedding was later that day. It was a beautiful occasion. The thing I liked most was a girl's choir came in and was singing Zambian music with drums playing. It was very cool. The reception was also enjoyable. I'd talk more of this but I have a bunch more stuff to write about.

The ride back to the training grounds on Sunday was interesting. We were supposed to have had a bus booked to take us back at 6:30 am. So with 10 of us sitting by the side of the road, he didn't come. 8:00 rolled around so someone with a car went into the city to see what the deal was. About 30 minutes later some random person drove by and handed us a note. It said, 'There were troubles with the transport. Find your own ways back.' It was like the show Amazing Race. Within a couple of minutes we all stood up and broke up into groups of 2 or 3 and spread out along the road to hitchhike. Here, the thumb is not employed to hail a ride. You stick your whole arm out horizontally and then just flap your wrist up and down. So I was with Devin and Ned to get home. Surprisingly fast we got a ride. It was a big rig. That's right 18 wheels and all. After negotiating a price we walked up to the passenger's door and started handing him our luggage which he was throwing back where they sleep. Ned and Jeremy crawled back there and were spread out and just as I was going to join them, the passenger said, no...you can sit up here. I thought I'd scored a pretty sweet seat until I found that I was actually sitting in the front seat with this man. So there we were, truckin down the road...my new Tanzanian friends and I. Lucas and I sharing a seat while a man who bore a striking resemblance to Pierre Pierce was at the helm driving. In case you were wondering what we were hauling, it was rubber boots made in Nairobi and being driven to Lusaka. I'd never been in a semi so I felt pretty cool. I started to feel like a trucker as I was standing on the side of the road peeing on the one of the wheels with Pierre peeing on the one next to me. For a moment there I felt a slight brotherhood between us. 4 hours later we got to Serenje where we found that there was a nice bus going right near where we needed to go. So we paid the truckers half of what we said (since it was about 1/2 way) and transferred to the bus.

Those are my stories from the road. Since then, a few things have happened. For Halloween we put on a little haunted house for the community members near the training center. Face paint and all, I was laying under a sheet pretending to be dead and then would sit up and scream and then kids would scream out of horror and run away. A few even cried.
A couple of nights later, I was sitting in my house talking to my family and my brother came running in to house frantically asking for my torch (flashlight) because he saw a snake. I gave it to him and then got my other flashlight. So we went searching the yard when I caught it in my beam in the garden. So my brother ran after it with a 7 foot lead pipe and proceed to beat the crap out of it. It turns out it was the deadly Black Mamba. I'm pretty excited to kill a few and make boots or something out of them while I'm here.

One more interesting thing that happened. While in Mporokoso, Annie, Peacock, and I at lunch at some place. They didn't have any sodas so Annie went to get some. She returned and we realized we had no way to open the bottles so we asked the employees if they had an opener. They said yes and a woman emerged from the back and said, 'Do you mind if I open them with my teeth?' We just said no so she proceeded to pick up our bottles and open them with her mouth. Now that's what I call service.

Pearson, out.