Outside my hostel
I arrived at my hostel very early this morning. I am staying at a place called ChaChaCha Backpackers in Lusaka, the capitol city of Zambia.
Today, I woke up at 7am and talked to the lady at the front desk about my stay here. I was given a temp room because I got in so late last night. Thankfully, she is going to keep me in the same room I am already staying in. My cell phone does not have service in my room, only when I go outside to the street to get any kind of signal.
Today, I venture out into Lusaka to get food and do some exploring. There is a plaza area called Manda Hill about a40 minute walk away. I left for Manda Hill around 9am. I went to the ShopRite there and picked up some cereal, British Frosted Flakes, and a bar of soap. I saw some [[muzungu]]s, white folk, all wearing red shirts. I stopped a group of 3 girls and asked them where they were from and what they were doing. They said they were from Iowa and were on a missions trip here for a few weeks. I talked to them for a few more minutes than took off back to ChaChaCha’s. Once back, I took a shower and ate cereal while watching a movie on my laptop. I then took an hour-and-a-half nap to catch myself up on sleep. This takes me to 1pm.
British Frosted Flakes
Walking to Manda Hill is an experience. First of all, I had no idea how to get there and asked the front desk for a map. I was given a map that was a copy-of-a-copy-of-a-copy — not the easiest to read. I had the receptionist mark my route to Manda Hill on the map for me. To get to Manda Hill, you have to walk along one of Lusaka’s main highways. It’s busy and the speed limit is rarely obeyed. On my walk, I smelled of dust, smog, and burning trash. There is lots of litter all along the side of the road. Near intersections, you see piles of burned garbage and when you walk pass large masses of weeds, you can smell human feces. The air is cloudy with smog. Trucks barrel down the highway leaving trails of white or black smoke. Manda Hill itself is nice. There were more muzungus than I expected. Many of them were dressed nicely, perhaps here for business. To my surprise, there was a Subway restaurant at Manda Hill. I walked in!
Here at the hostel, I saw that there were Americans and Swedes here from looking at the registry. I saw emails from gwu.edu and berkley.edu.
My room at the hostel
I put on deodorant today for the first time in over two weeks. I put as much on as I would back home. The smell is really overwhelming since I’m not used to it. It was great to take a bona-fide shower this morning, though I had no hot water again. I noticed though after showering that the stink in my armpits still remains. I’m going to have to scrub myself good when I get back to the states.
I’m wondering where the postcards I sent from Flatdogs camp are. John said the mail is very fickle here. I also noticed my Raytheon nalgene bottle leaks a little as the stuff inside my bag is a little damp.
I’m debating on getting more Kwacha. I have about 180 pin (1 pin = K1000). I need 130 pin for the taxi to the airport. I would like to have at least another 130 pin in case something goes wrong at the airport and I need a ride back to the hostel. I also need to eat dinner tonight.
Something I’ve noticed is living in America makes it easy to give into the desire to be perfect. Everything is set up that way from the schools we go to, the clothes we wear, the cologne we choose, the place we live, the food we eat, and the friends we choose. Here in Zambia, there is more of a notion to make the best of what you have because “perfect” is really unobtainable here.
Today is my friend Matt’s birthday today. I sent him a text message on my way to Manda Hill.
I walked again to Manda Hill. On my way, I was followed by a young girl, maybe 13 years old. She followed just behind me for a few yards and then came up next to me and began to ask me questions. She asked where I was going and what I was going to do when I got there. She asked me about my family back home: where they were from, how large my family was, and if I was the oldest. Her questions, although innocent, rubbed me the wrong way. I answered her politely without giving her much information. I did tell her though that I was going to eat at Manda Hill. She said that she was also going to Manda Hill and offered to eat with me. I declined and said I was meeting up with friends, although not true, but said to protect myself. She continued to follow me and ask me questions until I got to Manda Hill at which point I simply said goodbye and went in a different direction than she was naturally heading. I wouldv’e mind talking more with her, but given her age and the situation, I didn’t feel safe continuing the interaction.
At Manda Hill, I ate at a small restaurant that didn’t really have an appealing menu to me. I got breakfast despite it being mid-afternoon as that was the only substantial food on the menu. Breakfast came with toast, beans, eggs, sausage, and bacon. I’m not sure what it was, but I wasn’t keen on the food. I ate maybe a third of it. I kept thinking that the eggs were going to make me sick. So, I went to ShopRite again and bought three waters, lemon biscuits, and three apples. All those items, plus the cereal I have, should last me till tomorrow until I get to South Africa to get a full fledged meal.
I got back to my room around 5:15pm. It is lonely here. I really know no one. So, I went outside to the lounge area to try to make some friends. I started a conversation with two muzungus who looked to be about my age. One was from Scotland and just out of high school and the other was in his early twenties and from Lithuania. They were pretty cool guys who just also met at the hostel. They each had been in Zambia for a few months doing various things. The Scotland guy was in Africa for his skip year before starting University this fall. The Lithuanians guy was in med school, quit because he didn’t like it, and moved to Zambia for a few months in hopes of finding himself. He lived in Samfya, the town next to Mansa where John and Ruth lived. I described John and Ruth to him and he knew right away who they were as muzungus are not common in that area of Zambia. All of this brings me to 6:30pm.
I finished the night out by watching a movie and eating half of the “special bread.”