Six Months In

Last night I had a dream. I was sitting on my home-sewn-cushioned couch in my little red-brick mudhut, listening to the wind shift the black plastic lining of my thatched roof, when suddenly a big white Peace Corps cruiser pulls up, tells me to pack up my shit because my site has been deemed "innappropriate" and I have been reassigned. The cruiser drops me off in front of a concrete mansion, tin roof, polished cement floors, electricity, running water, and an indoor kitchen with a stove and refrigerator. The soil around my house is perfect, deep and black with plenty of water, and I already have a massive, well-tended garden in my backyard. All my neighbors have kitchen gardens, and not five minutes away is a wide, flat, well-paved road lined by large shops and houses. A few of my Peace Corps friends are there, working in the state-of-the-art, well-attended school or the fully-stocked clinic. My neighbors speak perfect English and know all there is to know about farming, beekeeping, animal husbandry, fish farming, and agroforestry. Everything looks perfect, and by the end of it all my dream-self is in tears.

Two weeks ago I left my village for a two-week In-Service Training Workshop in Lusaka, and I'll admit I was thrilled to get away for awhile. I spent time with American friends, ate out almost every night, saw my first movie in 6 months (Inception-- wow, now that's a movie. Unbelieveable), ate chocolate cake and drank cold beer. In spite of these luxuries I found that I missed my simple village life. Though I love my village 98% of the time, at the beginning of August the stress got so bad that I seriously considered going home for the first time since I arrived in February. For a brief period I wasn't sure I'd be able to bring myself to go back at all. After two weeks of getting as close to a taste of home as I could without leaving the country, I was not only relieved to return to Serenje but relieved to find that I was relieved. It feels good to once again have confidence in myself and what I am doing-- taking two weeks to recharge in Lusaka was, it turns out, exactly what I needed. I woke up from the above nightmare this morning with a renewed sense that I am, for now at least, exactly where I am supposed to be.

It isn't easy to live in a place and situation so different from the one I am used to. When I was sick at the end of July (and yes, I have lost a lot of weight, thank you) I couldn't even find the energy to feed myself because I didn't have the strength to fetch water or light my brazier, and when I needed to call the Peace Corps Medical Officer I practically had to crawl to cell phone service (I have found a second place in my village where I can access the network-- now I get to choose between walking half an hour to cross a huge river and climb a tiny hill or walking 15 minutes (and chatting with the neighbors for 10) to cross a small river and climb a very tall and steep hill). Luckily I had neighbors to help me cook, clean, etc.-- but even that lack of self-sufficiency is unfamiliar. (I am fully healed, btw-- have to be more careful what I eat!) For me, just surviving is a challenge most days.

At the same time, I can't help but be grateful to the US government for providing me with an opportunity to live so far outside my comfort zone. Life shouldn't always be easy. In the last three months I have learned to light a charcoal brazier, start a fire (ok, that one still gives me trouble, but I have had some successes!), wash laundry and dishes by hand, ask for directions in a foreign language, kill household pests (ding dong the rat is dead), and ride a bike. I taught a Zambian woman to bake a cake, learned from a Zambian woman how to crochet, worked with a farmer to build a beehive, and helped a teacher hold an HIV-education workshop at a school. This certainly isn't the most fun adventure I could be on, but I definitely think its the most interesting.

My two-week Lusaka workshop marked the end of my community entry period. From now on I'm expected to not just observe but participate in the world around me. I have learned more about beekeeping, animal husbandry, tree propogation, and gardening, and am returning to my village today with blisters on my hands, dirt on my clothes, and lots of ideas in my head. It's time for me to get to work. I think I'm ready.