Facing fears

Those of you who know me well know that I have a huge list of things that frighten me: any kind of bug, spiders, dogs, heights, Millo’s driving, birds, meat on the bone, food I cannot identify, food I have not tried before, FISH!! etc etc. Every day here in Zambia I have to face at least one fear- normally getting past Pepsi the dog to get out of my compound each day. I am pretty sure that the adrenaline from surviving the Pepsi trauma, bus adventures and food situations is what has allowed me to shed some weight here.

I got invited to a 40^th Birthday party this weekend. As I accepted the invite I felt nervous as it was clearly going to be a fully fledged Zambian affair and not only would I be the only musungo there but there was a high chance that there would be meat on the bone served. Anyway like a true explorer I waited for my lift to attend the braii and face my meat on the bone fears. Firstly I was told I was being picked up at 19.30 only to be collected at gone 21 hours. Zambian time is an entity unto itself, you spend an awful lot of time here waiting for things to happen. It is quite amusing considering at home I am known for being notoriously late for everything and now I am the one waiting around.

Being terribly British I was worried that all the food would have been eaten by the time we arrived but only to discover that it had not even been cooked. Wine was served and hundreds of introductions were made. A huge drum of a BBQ or braii as it is called here was burning with so much meat on it that even Henry would have been unable to eat all of it. Music was blaring out of the stereo and a herd of dogs were running around the place. Panic central. All I could hear was the voice of the Dr of Doom on VSO training telling us not to go near ANY dogs as we WILL get rabies........

Food was finally served. In Zambia it is really rude to turn down food when it is offered to you and secondly you eat it with your hands. You cannot begin to imagine my relief when I am given a plate with potato salad, sausage and steak. Wet wipes at the ready, I begin the task of trying to eat steak with my hands whilst still trying to retain some dignity. Challenge complete it was time for the cake. Everyone crowded around and a rather long version of Happy Birthday was sung. Then some of the guests performed a dance to present the knife for cutting the cake to the birthday boy. Speeches were made by quite a few people and then cake was served!!

After cake shots were served which I was trying to avoid but ended up drinking three. I have no clue what I was given to drink but it was bright red and within about an hour I was having a delightful allergic reaction. Flashbacks of pink musungo, red musungo flew around my head as I tried desperately to hide in the dark so no one would know. Dancing started and the female guests were adamant they would try and get the only musungo to dance. After much negotiations I was let off the hook having passionately explained my white butt cannot move in the same way a Zambian bottom can. Finally at 3.30am I was able to take my blotchy red face and unmoving bottom home having had a lovely evening and much merriment.

I am adding Barclays to my list of ‘Unimaginable Bastards’ alongside Zambian Immigration, Nick Clegg, Vodafone, the chicken shops of South London and my neighbours in Streatham Hill. On Tuesday I used my bank card and it got swallowed by the ATM. The ever helpful security guard (all ATM’s have a security guard by them) tells me only once I have put my card in the machine that it had been swallowing cards all day. On Wednesday morning I had to go to the depths of hell AKA Cairo Road to try and get my card back. Cairo Road is the main road here in Lusaka. It has so many people walking/sitting/sleeping on it that it makes Oxford Street look like paradise. People are selling anything you can imagine on the side of the road and you walk to a chorus of ‘musungo’, ‘hello mama’, ‘hey white lady’ and some rather explicit things I do not think I should mention in my blog. I arrive at the bank to be told that my card will not be available to collect until 15 hrs. I walk home, saddened that I will miss my afternoon with the babies at the orphanage. Thankfully a few other volunteers were going so the kids were not being let down. After a few hours at home, I trek back to Lucifer’s hang out and arrive at the bank just before 15 hrs. The security guard informs me that the bank shuts at 14.30pm........ Welcome to Zambia. I still have not bank card and I am heading back today, this time with the driver from work to protect me from explicit suggestions and a German to negotiate on my behalf as I fear I might throw myself on the floor in a 3 year old style tantrum should they not reutrn my card.

Tomorrow I am going to a Matebeto which I understand to be a ceremony that usually takes place before a Zambian couple is married. It is a ceremony where the women in the family of the bride-to-be (it is often family and friends) cook food from the culture of their tribe for the family, friends, and guests of the groom-to-be. This tradition is usually held for marriages between two different ethnic groups or tribes of which there are 73 in Zambia. It is supposed to ensure that the husband doesn't get offended or upset when his wife brings him a dish he has never seen or eaten before. I shall be wearing a chitenge (Zambian outfit) and carrying a pot on my head whilst dancing. Something for you to look forward to in my next exciting addition from the Badger Headquarters here in Lusaka.

I shall end today’s instalment with a little story I read in the national newspaper. A man found out his wife had cheated on him  and left him so he cut off his private parts and stabbed himself in the stomach trying to end his life. His neighbours heard the commotion and called an ambulance. The man was saved and woke up two days later in hospital. There was a fabulous quote about him waking to discover he had no apparatus left and feeling less of a man. This was front page news! (I promise to not always end on news of men’s genitals........)