Infernal Immigration

It's hot in Zambia. Really hot (kaba sana). Fortunately hot season will be coming to an end in a month or so with the coming of the rains. Or at least it will be hot with rain, I'm not sure how that works. It actually rained in Mpelembe a week or two ago. Quite the downpour. The roof leaked in 3 places, which is pretty good for an old thatched roof I think. Thunder and lightening, accompanied the rain, so it was very majestic. Best of all, I didn't have to water the garden for 2 days.

So, I'm unexpectedly in Kabwe today. I went to Lusaka on Sunday (sans Carrie, to save money and because she was going to Kabwe for a library training on Tuesday) hoping to go to immigration to get my visitor's permit and to ministry of health to drop off a copy of my degree (thanks Dad) and check on the status of the purported volleys of letters, on Monday. Unfortunately I was mad to think that Zambian bureaucracy (slower than US bureaucracy for lack of internet in many places) would be able to get a letter sent through the 3 levels of hell all the way to Lusaka MOH headquarters. Today I will check on the status of Kabwe's letter which should have been forwarded to Serenje already - though that isn't the purpose of my visit. Serenje refuses to send a letter to Kabwe until they receive a letter from Kabwe. Laughable if my ass remaining in Zambia weren't on the line. They are also concerned with security issues. Am I a nice guy? Will I jab people with needles for no reason? Am I a criminal? No one here has the capability to do a background check so I don't know what all the fuss is about. Probably some guy who wants to freely donate his time to helping out a clinic isn't a spy or murderer.

Anyway, back to my Lusaka travail. I stayed in a cheap - but nice - guesthouse Sunday night, after doing half of our grocery shopping. A South Korean travel writer named Sun asked if I wanted some soup, so he, I, and Sato - a Japanese student - all shared his Nigerian spicy vegetable soup he made. Very nice. It was neat to talk to two other travelers from totally different parts of the globe than myself. I talked to Sato more in the dorm, and he was shocked to learn that there are many Sushi restauraunts in the US and that I like it and tempura very much. He also didn't know people knew of the Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa outside of Japan. I in turn was shocked - actually just dissapointed - to hear that many people in Japan are McDonalds junkies. Apparently Japan has an eclectic assortment of food nationality options just like the States. Sun had met some North Koreans on the Chinese side of the border and says that they claimed North Korea isn't in as bad shape as the world believes. Although they did mention the lack of communication and news from the outside world. One might also ask why they escaped to China, but whatever. Monday morning I woke up and ate breakfast with my 2 fellow travelers and we were joined by an Indian man. Upon finding out that I was from the US, the Indian man went on and on about how bad they US is, primarily placing blame on GW Bush. Obviously I didn't leap to my country's defense and tried to get him to understand that he was preaching to the chior (with some difficulty, since I don't think India has that phrase). Anyway, I said people in the US aren't terrible, though not as friendly as Zambians, and that many of us are unhappy with our government. One thing he said, which I didn't agree with, is that our worst crime was killing Saddam. Maybe India venerates presidenthood too much, but I think the deaths of millions of innocent Iraqi children due to our sanctions and extensive bombing over the years was our worst crime. Oh well. He and Sun said that the US's former status and reputation has been extensively tarnished now in the eyes of the rest of the world. I don't know if we ever deserved such a reputation (remember the Phillipines, Panama, Iran-Contra, Slavery, Native Americans?).

Anyway, after that I went to Lusaka immigration to get my visitor's permit. There I found out that I need a certified bank check to pay the 500,000 kwacha fee. Well I just strolled on down to the nearest bank and asked for one. No no no, you can't get a certified bank check (or cheque) without an account. Next bank, same response. Walked all across Lusaka to 7 different banks and all required that you open an account. Well, I thought to myself, it's a pain, but best to get this all over with. What might be required to open a bank account then? 2 passport sized photos blah blah blah and a work permit. Wait, what. I need a work permit to open a bank account to get a certified check, but I would need a certified check to get a work permit to open a bank account. A Catch-22 par excellence. I guess most employers pay for their employees work permits. I went back to immigration to ask if a certified check from Carrie would be ok and they said sure.

So, Monday evening I walk, rediculously heavy pack and all, to the lay by on Great North Road and catch a minibus to Kabwe (which was cramped and took too long, why do I ever take minibusses between cities???). Got here when the sun was setting and asked a guesthouse we had stayed at before if they had a white woman staying there. Nope. Tried the next closest one, who was kind enough to call all the other guesthouses around town. All said no muzungu women named Carrie or failed to answer the phone. I figured the only thing left to do was to go to the guesthouses that didn't answer their phones. I got a cab to give me an ok price to check out the first one on the list of 8. No Carrie there. Checked probably 5 others before the cabbie got tired of driving me around and said he was going to have to drop me off. I asked for the cheapest guesthouse in town. He also wanted more money now for driving me for so long. I tried to play on sympathy and my purported lack of funds. Got him down to 50 pin (50,000 kwacha, 12 dollars) for driving me around for 1.5 hours. Ha! I still owe him 10 pin, cause I was trying to claim I had no more. Went into my room (35 pin), which really wasn't bad. Dingy and boring, but clean. With dissapointment, sorrow, frustration, and loneliness in my heart I set about writing in my journal. Suddenly a miserable epiphany: Remember when I said I got to Kabwe on Monday night? Also remember when I said Carrie was going to Kabwe on Tuesday? Wow, I felt like a complete idiot as I never before had in my life. Carrie was nowhere near Kabwe and here I was frantically scrambling to find out which guesthouse she was staying at here. Wasted 50 pin, 2 hours or more, and the time of the guesthouse people, the cabbie, and myself. Hahaha.

Whew. Now I am going to wait at the bus station (where busses and most drivers would drop people off) at noon to try and run into Carrie. Hopefully I won't have to repeat the experience of last night.

Anyway, what else has happened since my last post? Chicken house stand almost collapsed (termites? surely not because the branches I used weren't strong enough). Chickens started laying an egg a day each. I think it's because I started catching grasshoppers and locusts from the garden and feeding them in great quantity (sometimes 12 a day) to the chickens. There is much art in catching a grasshopper. You must move slowly, with yoga-like grace until smacking your hand down on the only mildly suspicious grasshopper. Kids next door continually raiding our trash pit for plastic bags with which to construct their football (soccer ball). It actually bounces just like a real one. It's impressive. Carrie has made an intercropped garden bed of her own. I hope it does well. We have some tiny cantaloupes and a different type of pumpkin forming. The other pumpkins, among 9 plants produced one medium pumpkin.

Last week "my" chicken, Fireball went insane. She decided to get broody and sit on the one egg that we leave in the nest. Usually chickens only sit on a nest when they accumulate 10 or more eggs. I've tried lifting her off (with much squaking) and barring the coop, but she then just sits as close as possible to the nest outside the coop and spreads herself out as though she is nesting. She also lost many of the feathers on her chest and belly, which maybe is part of the brooding process. Carrie cut my hair and I cut Carrie's hair. Her hair is almost as short as mine used to be. It's sort of in a bob, to which she added (subtracted?) bangs. I think it looks pretty good, but she is not as enthusiastic about it. She wanted a short cut!

Emilie - Thank you for the spices and books you sent!!! I have already finished the book on bees (very interesting), Hardboiled Wonderland and End of the World (awesome book), stumbled over some Foucault, and am halfway through Desert Solitaire. We are now cumining things like crazy. How are your spices so cheap at that coop?? Glad to hear things are very good in NYC with you

Nonna - Thank you for the clippings, which are infinately more precious here in Zambia. I haven't recieved your package yet, though I imagine it is waiting for Carrie to pick it up at the Post Office in Serenje. Will probably get it when Carrie comes back to Mpelembe on Saturday. I think all my troubles this trip can be attributed to the fact that I forgot my St. Christopher's medal in the hut this time. Glad to hear you are reading one of my very favorite authors! Tell me what you think!

Jamie - Thanks for posting! Get Sarah to read the blog. You'd be surprised, most of Carrie and my days are a far cry from exciting. It's different, true, but not wildly so.

Ok I've used up a lot of internet time here at the BP station. Gotta go look up some recipes, raising stingless bees (who live in a post in our garden), how to dynamite moles, etc. Take care everyone.