Dreaming, flying, living....

Well, well, another day in Africa. And by another day, I mean another adventure. We finally have a bit of time off, finishing our lessons early today, and had the entire afternoon free. With a bit of change in my pocket and a notion in my head, I and a few of my fellow trainees have taken authentic Zambian public transportation into Lusaka for a bit of well-deserved R&R. It’s rare, and it’s amazing what a bit of retail therapy and real catsup on your chips will do for a person…

Second site visit was AWESOME!! I love my village, I love my site, I love Mansa, and I love all of the other PCVs I’ve met (although honestly I have yet to come across a not-totally-awesome Peace Corps person). Luapula province is even more beautiful than I was led to believe. We have gorgeous lakes that are so big and blue that it looks like a sea shore, the dambos go on as far as you can see, and it looks like someone painted the landscape into existence around you. It’s the Africa that I had hoped to see, and I am lucky enough to get to live in it for the next two years. But enough gushing. I am the first PCV that my village will have had, which will undoubtedly lead to some great stories later, so stay posted. As it is, they are sooooooooo excited to have me. Intense is the only word I can use to describe site visit. When I was first arrived, the cruiser pulled up to my house where there was, sitting in the middle of my yard, a table and three chairs arranged throne-like facing a bank where the ENTIRE village had congregated to greet me. Count: at least 52 children, plus adults. After the cruiser left, we sat staring at each other for a good twenty minutes, on record as the twenty most awkward moments in my living memory. Literally, I was like the polar bear in the zoo. They were all so eager to make me feel welcome that the only time I was alone for the two days I was there was when I managed to hide in my icimbusu. I’m sure that by then end of my stay they probably thought I had a bladder infection or something, I was escaping off to “go to the bathroom” so often. But it was fantastic at the same time it was exhausting. I was walked around to all of the surrounding villages to greet the headmen (and a headwoman!), and we made quite a little parade, me, my hosts, and a band of at least 15 iwe at any given moment. Meeting my counterpart was exciting as he told me straight up “We will make you work hard for us!” Exactly what I like to hear. My only hope was that I would have a community that was excited to have me and use me as a resource and listen to my ideas, and I am so glad that it appears that I have found that. Enthusiasm is what will make our work successful. :D

Anyway, things are winding down (sort of) at Chalimbana. There is a buzz in the air like the last two weeks before a graduation, which swearing in kinda is. Lots of studying Bemba in my future. We swear in on the 23 of April and then move out the next day. Bitter sweet, I have made so many new friends that have become my new family here. I know there are more waiting for me, but all the same, I will miss my host sister and family, and my trainees and trainers. But for now, I will take every moment as it comes, just riding the ride and living the dream…
Peace

Xo
ash

Site announcement!

Just a fast update while I'm buying groceries in Lusaka... We got our site assignments on Thursday evening, and I got a Luapula site!!! Which is what i hoped for. I don't have a lot of details but I do know this: I am 10k away from my nearest neighbor who is another LIFEr from another intake, and 15k away from the provincial boma where our house (and real grocery store and internet cafe)is located, apparently i have network at my site, I'm first generation so my house should be new, I live on the edge of a protected forest and have a good school nearby that I can do environmental education with (which is something else I'm really excited about). Google Mansa, which is the provincial capital that I will be right next to. It's a sweeter deal than I had even dared to hope for, honestly. The word on the street is that my villiage is really excited to have me and I'm really excited to be there. Also, Luapula is B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L (pronounced Loo-ah-pool-ah, or poo-la, but I though pool was a nicer phonetic description). I can't wait to see it. We leave at 6:00 in the morning tomorrow, and it's about a 9-10 hour ride in the cruiser, but I have a feeling that I won't be wanting to come back to Lusaka that often.

Will be gone for 10 days, but will collect pictures of my new home and post them as soon as I possible can. If there's anyone out there wanting to send packages, the flat rate, ship-anywhere-in-the-world boxes are the best deal I've heard. From now on, you can send any mail, packages or otherwise, to my provincial house at Box 710150, Mansa, Luapula, Zambia. Don't forget to write air mail and par avion. And no matter what the post office will tell you, I WILL NOT get it in 5-10 days...My sister mailed a package right after I left and i still have yet to get it.

Love you all, and don't worry, I'm keeping very safe, and VERY happy. :D
xo
ash

ZAM-LAND!!!

WOW, WOW, WOW!!!! First update in country. Sorry to everyone out there who is counting on this as the frontline for communication on my adventures here. I have an internet phone where I can access my facebook and a new e-mail (acconway@ovi.com now), but apparently it doesn’t really like blogspot or yahoo. From now on, my updates will be when I have access to an internet café…might not be too often.

So, gosh, Zambia…it rocks. I am loving loving loving it here. Peace Corps has been awesome, the country is awesome and every day is a new adventure. Off the top of my head updates: I’m trying to learn Bemba, failing outrageously every day. I have a great homestay family, my Bamama (grandmother) is so cool and her grandkids are great. I spend most of my time with my 17 year old sister Mweemba, who rocks at plaiting hair. Yes, not braiding, plaiting. And they say bathe and bathing like “baathing”, its awesome. My biggest challenge is that while my Bamama speaks Bemba, the rest of the family speaks Nyanja, which is making my immersion difficult, but other than that, its amazing. I have my own little hut, bucket baths are hands down the best way to clean your body, we have the Chalimbana river just down the hill from my compound, I ride my bike to class every afternoon and the ride is siiiiick (as is my sweet bike), the dirt stains my musungu feet red I don’t think they’ll ever be the same, the nshima is delicious (although I do have cravings for American food that I hear will only get worse over time), fresh picked guavas are the most magical thing on the face of this planet, pinapple Fanta has forever changed my life, and the African night skies are the most breathtakingly beautiful thing I have ever seen. Pretty much my life rocks.
No major culture shock or illnesses yet. Note that I did say major… but really, all is well. I realized today as we were driving through Lusaka that I must becoming villiage-ized as the city is getting nicer and more “bwana” every time we come here. Things like stoplights make me stare now… LIFErs leave on Sunday for our second site visit, this time it will be to where we will actually be living for the next two years, and I’ll find out my site assignment on Friday!!! I really can’t wait. Things that I have learned thus far: Peace Corps doesn’t tell you what’s going on 90% of the time (for those of you who are still in application process this is particularly applicable), but it’s not because they want to torture you. It’s really because they really don’t know what’s going on either. So many details are figured out in country or on the go. It was frustrating until I figured this out, now I just roll with it.
Prevalent things I have noticed upon living here: Snakes of all sorts are the Devil and will be destroyed upon sight, slow jams are always on the radio, Minibuses every where, and tons of salt in the food. Avoiding generalizations, but that’s what I’ve seen. The really cool stuff: like whenever you drink a Coke or a beer, you return the bottle to the proprieter for reuse, there is real sugar in everything (!!!!!!), people walk and bike everywhere (mostly because cars are really expensive), you greet everyone you see even if you don’t know them, and you can ask someone for anything and they will do there very best to help you out. The first hour after we arrived in country, we were driving from the airport and a group of boys hollered “Welcome to Zambia!” as we were driving by. I couldn’t stop smiling.
List of things I’d never thought I’d hear/see in Zambia: Don Williams’ Greatest Hits, Brandi a la seventh grade, Bob Marley, Miranda Lambert and Allan Jackson, Sean Kingston, Lady Gaga, Pringles and Doritos, adorable shoes. Mind you the last few items are rather expensive, but still, it’s here.
Anyway, that’s the best I can do off the top of my head. So much stuff and stories. I will do my best to keep you all up to date with the happenings of my life, but it may only be monthly. Definitely keep checking back… Pictures will come soon.
Xo
ash

The Listy Blog of Lists

With two weeks to go before this whole deal goes down, I have been doing lots of thinking. And list making. Let me share...

Things I am really stoked about:
-Meeting new people
-Learning new things
-Eating fresh mangos by the bushel
-Seeing a giraffe
-Wicked sexy perma-tan
-Sunshine, sunshine, sunshine (also read, NO SNOW!!!)
-Being able to teach people about stuff that make me excited
-Being bilingual
-Wearing cool clothes
-My bicycle
-Bucket baths
-Having a host family (i hope they're cool)
-The experience of a lifetime

Things I'm not so excited about, but am prepared to deal with:
-culture shock
-being sick...all the time...
-missing people I love
-warm beer
-no cheese
-freaking huge insects...that are eaten :-\
-missing people that I love (did I mention that already?)

Things I have left to procure:
-new socks
-extra underwear
-Icy-hot balm (sore muscles and joints are not considered important in the PC med-kit)
-Emergen-C (also not considered critical, but considering the above list, any little bit helps)
-stamps and envelopes and addresses
-pictures and recipes that might be handy (Like Mom's pie crust formula of greatness!)
-rechargable batteries

Things I have left to do:
-Clean my room and do tons of laundry
-Actually pack my bags
-Dig out my special ladybug mug from the boxes in the attic from when I moved back home. It's my favorite.
-Also, dig out the extra cooking spices so my dad stops worrying about oregano-smoking mice that may or may not wreak havoc on said boxes in the attic
-Finish filling out necessary paperwork
-Go out one more time with my girls
-Savor the last few days with the people I love
-Finish secret squirrel projects that are super secret suprises
-Transfer all of my music and necessary documents to wee lapTot (I'm putting this one off...)
-Organize my unread books in an easy-access, ready-to-ship-overseas manner
-Fill out FAFSA (just in case. I mean, you never know...)

Things I am not allowed to do anymore:
-Buy shoes
-Buy books
-Go out shopping, in general
-Use the "Oh yeah? Well, maybe I'll just move to Africa!" retort (Not that I ever retort at my parents. I'm just saying that it's no longer an option. For obvious reasons.)

So, the seconds tick on. Crazy. I just can't believe that after a year (!!!) I'm finally here at this point. It took forrrrrreverrrrr to get here. All of this nervous excitement is building up inside of me and I can barely stand it anymore. Let's do this already, right?

xo
ash

The Great Tent Fiasco

This latest update comes to you all from the keys of my shiny new (and highly cherished) lapTot. I was recently gifted an itty-bitty Toshiba netbook from my cool, cool aunt (shout out to my amazing aunt Tammie), and now have little Tot as a companion on my forthcoming adventures. While visiting my aunt, I spent some time relaxing, acquiring a few new clothing items, and reveling in the fact that my packing was shaping up, winding down, and very much under control.

And then the news came in...

As part of a particularly enthusiasic group of Trainees, we are literally flooding our Facebook wall with helpful bits of research, information, tips, and tricks (As a note: while it is probably likely that ours is the first group to have been connected to FB for so long that we are more attached to it as a resource than previous groups and therefore are utilizing it to a higher degree, I choose to think it's because we are super-cool). Yesterday morning, word comes through the grapevine that Trainees are "highly recommended" to be equipped with a tent, sleeping bag and sleeping pad." TENT?! SLEEPING BAG!? Panic ensues. I mean really! Do these people realize how much a TENT weighs?!?!

Apparently during training we will be taking, shall we say, 'little trips to the countryside.' These are called site visits, during which we will be split into groups, packed into Land Rovers and shipped off to actual Volunteers' sites to stay for a few days and experience village life as we should expect it to be. This I knew before hand. What I didn't realize is that we are expected to provide our own sleeping materials for these trips... Not that a sleeping bag would be a bad thing to have for other occasions, but a tent? Not happening.

So the discussions exploded. Who's packing, who's not, who's sharing with whom...I even offered my snuggling services in exchange for a space on someone's floor. In the big scheme of things, I don't suppose this is that big of a deal. Part of why we signed up for this whole thing is that we want an adventure, and part of what will make us successful is our ability to get creative, be flexible, and improvise. We probably don't even need anything, which is why the packing list that they give us is only full of suggestions, guidelines, and recommendations. We pick and choose what we absolutely can't live without. The significance for me was the wake-up call that this gave me. I thought I was doing fine, but now I feel like "Am I forgetting something really important?" The stress of packing was not something I was feeling. I had my tech squared away, my communication all strategized, and some leisurely shopping for the odd pair of socks or trousers in my future. And yet as I tottered hopelessly around the shelves of REI, my eyes glazing over with the slickest, sweetest stuff for the travel-savvy explorer (like chewable balls of energy, zippered suitcase organizers, and an ice pick-cum-boat anchor), I realized that maybe I was waaaaay more unprepared than I thought. I was totally content with my new lime green word-combo luggage locks, but suddenly they seemed so paltry, insignificant compared to how much stuff I was missing out on.

After an evening of frenzied research, I came to the following conclusions:1) I am not a turtle, I do not carry my house on my back, therefore...no tent. 2) I am a small person, I need a warm place to sleep, therefore...kid's sized sleeping bag, rated to +30 (I also get cold easily, which is why I asked to go to Africa). 3) I will, in all likelihood, bring something that I will never need and/or use, I will not bring something that I do need and don't realize it, therefore...no stressing about packing. I refuse to let myself get worked up. End of story.

I have a feeling that we will all be laughing about this one 'round the campfire in a few months' time. "Hey, remember that one time when we were all freaking out about sherpa-ing our way through these site-visits? Hardy-hardy-harr! Here, have some misquito netting..." Goodtimes. 'Til then...

xo
ash

28 days later...

Only this time, it's not zombies invading Hollywood or New York. Rather, an estimated 53 starry-eyed and dream-laden PCT (Peace Corps Trainees) will invade the relatively quiet and peaceful country of Zambia. From the Facebook wall we've been blowing up for the past few months, I have the sneaking suspicion that, for better or worse, said African country will never be the same. I'm totally stoked.

That's right kids. While retreating away to my grandparents' ranch in the middle of nowhere this past week, I received an e-mail from the PC Staging desk with the final details ("Reporting Instructions." With capital letters. Oh yea.) of when and where we will be leaving. The date has been moved up a bit, and we'll be leaving from Philly, apparently. All in all, very exciting news, especially the bit that said we will begin this mind-blowing adventure at 2:00 in the morning. How's that for a starting gun, eh?

Time to get serious about packing, I guess. With regards to my last post about my little shoe Problem, let's just say that I reached a stand-off of sorts. My sandals, I think, will work well, although the blog-o-sphere will be the first to know if circumstances turn otherwise. As for my matronly mules that I still can't bring myself to buy... well, it will probably be down to the very last minute before I reach a solid decision. Right now, the predominant opinion among myselves is that just because we are moving to Zambia doesn't mean our style will change. Why bother trying? I know that I will definitely sleep better beneath my mosquito net at night just knowing that I have a smashing pair of pumps standing by in case the need arises. My luggage weight limit might make this difficult decision for me...

All in all, time is ticking on and the days are flying by. Lists generally aren't my thing, but I have been reverting back to scribbling on a variety of handy tablets to ensure that I don't forget something critical (like gummie bears and canceling my health insurance), a technique I perfected in while in school during finals week. I haven't really had time to ponder the weightiness of these last few weeks home. I'm sure the moment will come soon, and when it does, I will have a variety of insightful revelations to wade through and match with overwhelming emotions. Until then....

xo
ash

Stupid Hippie Shoes

I have a problem.

I don't mean a problem like the kind that pops up urgently and can only be solved by immediate application of skill, planning, and martial arts. I mean like a "problem" problem. The kind that cuts into your daily life, preys on your savings account, and instigates the slow alienation of all of your friends. It raises concern among your loved ones; "Ashley, why are you buying that fabulous pair of heels when you are moving to Africa for two years?" They mean well, I know, but I already realize the depths of my troubles. Admitting that you have a problem is the first step to recovery, I hear, so I'll say it again: I am obsessed with shoes.

My problem has actually led me to have a problem, this time the urgent issue kind. This particular problem stems from the fact that I can't possibly, in good conscience, spend money on a pair of drab, unimaginative mules. But let me back up for just a minute and explain so you can get the full scope of my problem(s). I love heels. The really cute, really high, really impractical, totally full-of-sass heels. I believe in good footwear...so sue me. This is my Problem. The problem that my Problem has left me with is this: I need a pair of dress shoes for Zambia. All of my dress shoes are no shorter than 3" high, and totally inappropriate for bicycling around the African bush. But I still need a pair of professional dressy shoes. My heart says heels. My mind says mules. I cringe deep down.

This conundrum is what prompted the two-day long Footwear Research and Acquisition Binge that my poor laptop has recently been subjected to. I have good, sturdy work-the-land shoes which will last me, for all practical purposes, until Armageddon. After all, I live on a farm. However, I realized that in order to be sufficiently shod for all of my African adventures, I would need nice shoes, but not heels, and hard-core sandals (I suspect that my standard $7.99 flip-flops are sooooo not up to the task of my future safari-style living). Staring at my computer screen filled with shoes until my eyes bleed, I realize that my Problem is worse than I realized when I found myself Ebay-watching two pairs of Kate Spades, a gorgeous pair of retro Pradas and the most perfect ruby red Louboutin Rolandos...FAIL.

I decided in order to satisfy my Problem and solve my problem, I would compromise. Unflashy, boring, 1.5" heeled, black, all-purpose dress shoes...but they're used Salvatore Ferragamos. $300 shoes that I found for $37.00. I could feel a hint of a smile returning to my feet. Italian- made would definitely last long against the rigors of Zambian hut-life, but I could still slip them on my feet and feel smashing. Well, maybe not smashing, per se, but at least a darn sight better than how I would feel in generic Payless ballet flats. AND, they're definitely worn, so I won't feel so bad when I scuff the toe on my bicycle. Item one, check.

I figured while I was at this, I might as well focus on my second shoe situation: the need for a sturdy pair of work-the-land-last-til-Armageddon sandals. Ripping myself away from the Givenchy Fall '09 collection, I began my research on what might best suit my purposes. Upon delving into the depths of Birkenstock foot wear, I ran into another roadblock. My Problem, you know, that Problem, was writhing in demonic agony as if the specimens in front of it were a collection of crucifixes, like Balthazaar confronted with Holy Water. The words thundered in my skull like a malediction: Hippie shoes, hippie shoes, hippie shoooooooooes.

Not that there's anything wrong with hippies. In fact, I consider myself a neo-hippie (although I do bathe and plan on shaving my legs in my open-air, thatch-roofed bath hut, even if I have to use my new leatherman Crocodile Dundee-style). I even had a pair of Baby Birks when I was a wee tot, and they were quite comfy (incidently, my concern with good footwear comes from my mother). No, the issue was, as much as I have respect for hippies and the traditional foot garb of the hippie, my Problem abhorrs the hippie vibe. Boho? Totally cool. Funky retro? Also awesome. Straight-up, socially awkward, fashion-ignorant, BO-scented, Save-The-Spotted-Porpoises hippie? Not so swell. I was in middle school once, and I have no desire to return there in my twenties, Peace Corps stereo-type or not. Another compromise was in order.

My second dillemma was proving to be more difficult than the first. I read coustomer reviews, examined colors and tech specs, did price comparisons. Deep down, I knew that I needed a sandal that could stand up to the rough-life, not just "feel comfortable all day as I walked around Europe on our two week vacation." Two years in rural Zambia will take a toll on these buggers, and I need to be on my feet hauling water, gathering wood, building cooking fires and walking to the market. Despite my Problem, I'm a realist. And yet, I just couldn't bring myself to go the whole hog and buy the hardest of the hard-core sandals. I'm still at a stand-off with my Problem. I ordered a pair of Tevas, not the amphibious, trek-across-the-Sahara style, but the grade below it, which is still above the Oh-I-could-totally-get-used-to-these cute style. I read the return policy, and am prepared to continue my search should they arrive and my Problem doesn't feel like we could live and work in harmony...or if they don't fit. At this point, I know which option worries me more.

In other news, this has been, thus far the biggest challenge in my preparations. Christmas was a success, full of used and sustainable goodness, and I am one retro messenger bag, Solio charger, Zambia guide book and several journals more prepared for my departure. Can't wait to ring in the new year. I have a feeling 2010 is going to be more awesome than I can possibly imagine!

peace.
xo
ash