Adventures in Zambia
Souvenirs of a Banquet Server
Dear Banqueteers,
Greetings to all. This CUSO job is a lot of work, lots of meetings, meetings, meetings-very political, and that’s a pain. I am struggling not to get mired down in all the art community feuds here. I miss the simple pleasures of the dish-pit.
I hope you are not too worried about me here in Lusaka-city from Hell-or as the local hospital is called, ‘The departure Lounge’, the gateway to the other side. If you’ve seen Woody Allen’s film “Bananas” that will give you a rough idea of this place. Rush out and rent it. Don’t worry about me.
Luckily someone was at home when the thieves set fire to our grass fence with the ultimate goal of stealing the vehicles in the yard. Maybe 2:00 p.m. is not the most intelligent time for theft but one must abandon logic here. Anyway if our night guard isn’t asleep or bandits don’t beat the pulp out of him, we are safe at night. I feel most secure knowing there are thick iron bars in front of all our windows and doors. Too bad the alarm system is broken though hopefully our two vicious guars dogs Max and Skinner will alert us if trouble occurs. They were sleeping during the fire episode.
Also don’t worry about my passport. I will be returning in the Spring. The thief didn’t get anything when he slashed my bag while I was shopping. I am not sure which is the most dangerous activity here – shopping , sleeping, eating, or driving?
Maybe driving, as a prerequisite for attaining your license is absolute and irrefutable incompetence. If another car doesn’t get you, a pothole the size of a volcanic crater will – or you won’t even have to worry about driving as your vehicle will be stolen from you at gunpoint while you sit outside waiting for your guard to open your gate. But one needs transport as this city was laid out with an affluent car driving populace in mind. I have purchased a second hand pink bicycle but it is pretty tough trying to get around. Pray for me. Most drivers are on a personal mission to destroy all others on the roads. I believe that in order to pass your driving test you must always accelerate and swerve towards all pedestrians. A red light means that the next six cars go through. I swear. My friend’s sister had a collision at an intersection and was charged for going through a stop sign. She protested that there was no stop sign there. The policeman replied: “But Madam, there used to be one there”. Case closed.
Everyone I know has been ill with a terrible virus – vomiting and diarrhea. I am healthy as a horse thanks to three years of bacterial immunity build-up from the infamous Chattery’s food. I hope my luck holds out as I am going to the Copper Belt next week. There is a cholera epidemic there. A lot of people have died. But there is an art exhibit to judge and the show must go on.
I survived white water rafting on the Zambezi River at Victoria Falls. It was spectacular. We only saw one crocodile and our raft only nearly flipped. Everybody who got tossed fortunately got picked up before the crocs or the whirlpools got them. This is a world class rafting river which will disappear in the next few years as they are building a dam. So sad as it is an incredible place.
It is hotter than Hades here. This is the worst drought of the century and the hottest October anyone can remember. It is nauseating. I am doing rain rituals as I want to see what green grass will look like where all this red and brown dust is. I am sure we have a lovely yard. Well, the cactus tree is thriving anyway. It is covered in beautiful yellow blooms.
I am finally sleeping now that I have a fan, and I’m sure those black bags under my eyes aren’t permanent. The fan’s noise helps cover up the all-night-dog-barking, the 4am cat-howling at my bedroom window, the 5am continuous rooster- crowing, and the 6am onward-crying of Frank, one of our housekeeper’s six children. We call him Frankenstein.
I will put my mosquito net up on Wed. so hope to keep the blood-sucking highly virulent demons at bay. But if one gets me I can feel confident knowing that I’ m ingesting the controversial anti-malarial drug Mefloquin. I have agreed to report all side effects such as depression, hallucinations, hearing loss, etc…
On Monday I go to Ndola, (4 hrs away) to buy Acrylic paint. Can’t get it in Lusaka and they just started mixing it there. I can get black, white, blue, yellow and red. That keeps things pretty basic.
Can’t even say the word ‘feminism’ instead it’s ‘gender equity’. I am helping with a women’s artist workshop that will happen on January. The bottom line is, it’s the shits to be a woman in Africa. Lots of wife-beating here. ( My roommate works for the YWCA). The new government in Zambia came in on the platform of improving women’s lot but things are worst than before. And so it goes.
Please don’t worry about my nocturnal habits; I am as chaste as a nun. Aids is very bad, there are funerals constantly. Doctors say that for every case officially reported there are 9 more. Nobody talks much about it but the cemeteries are overflowing.
Well that’s it for Adventures in Zambia. Lusaka is an urban nightmare, Seventies gone bad. I guess the 70’s were prosperous and it’s been decaying ever since. Lusaka is the fastest growing city in Southern Africa. My theory is everyone is moving here to pursue a career in stealing. With the drought no one can survive (or just barely) off the land. It is so parched here yet still so beautiful outside the city. I’ve been traveling quite a bit and really enjoy that. It may be difficult here sometimes but it can’t compare in hellishness to that LAST BIG ITALIAN WEDDING, ( the one where VanderZalm sang ‘On Top of Old Smokey all covered in cheese’) so I’m hanging in here. So long for now,
Laurey
Copyright©2000-Laurey Nevers
Souvenirs of a Banquet Server
Dear Banqueteers,
Greetings to all. This CUSO job is a lot of work, lots of meetings, meetings, meetings-very political, and that’s a pain. I am struggling not to get mired down in all the art community feuds here. I miss the simple pleasures of the dish-pit.
I hope you are not too worried about me here in Lusaka-city from Hell-or as the local hospital is called, ‘The departure Lounge’, the gateway to the other side. If you’ve seen Woody Allen’s film “Bananas” that will give you a rough idea of this place. Rush out and rent it. Don’t worry about me.
Luckily someone was at home when the thieves set fire to our grass fence with the ultimate goal of stealing the vehicles in the yard. Maybe 2:00 p.m. is not the most intelligent time for theft but one must abandon logic here. Anyway if our night guard isn’t asleep or bandits don’t beat the pulp out of him, we are safe at night. I feel most secure knowing there are thick iron bars in front of all our windows and doors. Too bad the alarm system is broken though hopefully our two vicious guars dogs Max and Skinner will alert us if trouble occurs. They were sleeping during the fire episode.
Also don’t worry about my passport. I will be returning in the Spring. The thief didn’t get anything when he slashed my bag while I was shopping. I am not sure which is the most dangerous activity here – shopping , sleeping, eating, or driving?
Maybe driving, as a prerequisite for attaining your license is absolute and irrefutable incompetence. If another car doesn’t get you, a pothole the size of a volcanic crater will – or you won’t even have to worry about driving as your vehicle will be stolen from you at gunpoint while you sit outside waiting for your guard to open your gate. But one needs transport as this city was laid out with an affluent car driving populace in mind. I have purchased a second hand pink bicycle but it is pretty tough trying to get around. Pray for me. Most drivers are on a personal mission to destroy all others on the roads. I believe that in order to pass your driving test you must always accelerate and swerve towards all pedestrians. A red light means that the next six cars go through. I swear. My friend’s sister had a collision at an intersection and was charged for going through a stop sign. She protested that there was no stop sign there. The policeman replied: “But Madam, there used to be one there”. Case closed.
Everyone I know has been ill with a terrible virus – vomiting and diarrhea. I am healthy as a horse thanks to three years of bacterial immunity build-up from the infamous Chattery’s food. I hope my luck holds out as I am going to the Copper Belt next week. There is a cholera epidemic there. A lot of people have died. But there is an art exhibit to judge and the show must go on.
I survived white water rafting on the Zambezi River at Victoria Falls. It was spectacular. We only saw one crocodile and our raft only nearly flipped. Everybody who got tossed fortunately got picked up before the crocs or the whirlpools got them. This is a world class rafting river which will disappear in the next few years as they are building a dam. So sad as it is an incredible place.
It is hotter than Hades here. This is the worst drought of the century and the hottest October anyone can remember. It is nauseating. I am doing rain rituals as I want to see what green grass will look like where all this red and brown dust is. I am sure we have a lovely yard. Well, the cactus tree is thriving anyway. It is covered in beautiful yellow blooms.
I am finally sleeping now that I have a fan, and I’m sure those black bags under my eyes aren’t permanent. The fan’s noise helps cover up the all-night-dog-barking, the 4am cat-howling at my bedroom window, the 5am continuous rooster- crowing, and the 6am onward-crying of Frank, one of our housekeeper’s six children. We call him Frankenstein.
I will put my mosquito net up on Wed. so hope to keep the blood-sucking highly virulent demons at bay. But if one gets me I can feel confident knowing that I’ m ingesting the controversial anti-malarial drug Mefloquin. I have agreed to report all side effects such as depression, hallucinations, hearing loss, etc…
On Monday I go to Ndola, (4 hrs away) to buy Acrylic paint. Can’t get it in Lusaka and they just started mixing it there. I can get black, white, blue, yellow and red. That keeps things pretty basic.
Can’t even say the word ‘feminism’ instead it’s ‘gender equity’. I am helping with a women’s artist workshop that will happen on January. The bottom line is, it’s the shits to be a woman in Africa. Lots of wife-beating here. ( My roommate works for the YWCA). The new government in Zambia came in on the platform of improving women’s lot but things are worst than before. And so it goes.
Please don’t worry about my nocturnal habits; I am as chaste as a nun. Aids is very bad, there are funerals constantly. Doctors say that for every case officially reported there are 9 more. Nobody talks much about it but the cemeteries are overflowing.
Well that’s it for Adventures in Zambia. Lusaka is an urban nightmare, Seventies gone bad. I guess the 70’s were prosperous and it’s been decaying ever since. Lusaka is the fastest growing city in Southern Africa. My theory is everyone is moving here to pursue a career in stealing. With the drought no one can survive (or just barely) off the land. It is so parched here yet still so beautiful outside the city. I’ve been traveling quite a bit and really enjoy that. It may be difficult here sometimes but it can’t compare in hellishness to that LAST BIG ITALIAN WEDDING, ( the one where VanderZalm sang ‘On Top of Old Smokey all covered in cheese’) so I’m hanging in here. So long for now,
Laurey
Copyright©2000-Laurey Nevers
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