I am a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV). I live in a clay brick hut with a thatched roof in rural Zambia. Every morning I wake to the sounds of ox and cart rolling down the bumpy dirt road, to roosters crowing to the daylight, to pigs rooting around in the grass, and goats bleating to each other. This is the orchestra of my life.
I sleep under a mosquito net and after crawling out from under its tucked-in sides, I make my way outside to my very own pit latrine. Its only 6:00 AM, but the sun already gives a hint of the day's coming heat.
For breakfast I make tea and oats on my gel stove inside my house. My host family then gathers me and my 20L jerry cans to help get water from the borehole with the wagon and cattle. We fill three large plastic and metal drums along with numerous small buckets and cans. The other women at the borehole greet us and each other, then lift their loads onto their heads and walk up the hill balancing the water with no hands.
The day has now begun. Trucks, cars, and vans along with pedestrians and bicyclists go by all day on the road beside my place. They are off to school, work, the village market, or to town to get things or transport items.
Several farmers stop by to meet me and I share in Tonga who I am, why I am here and what I will be doing in the next two years. The villagers welcome me and say they are happy I've come. Some children stop by. As I work on my bike, they continue to stare at me while trying to engage me in Tonga I can't understand them and eventually they go on their way.
By now a dog has arrived looking for food and continues to hang around for the rest of the day. She even stares longingly inside my door and appears to almost walk in. She's hungry, but I don't have anything to give. Also, if I start to feed animals, I'll have a zoo of angry food seekers before too long.
After lunch I go to meet some local headmen. Traditional leaders are part of the culture here and are respected and sought after for advice even still today. They hold no legal grounds with national law, but in the village they still handle some disputes.
I also visit the chief, the only chieftainess in Southern Province. She welcomes me and blesses me in the traditional manner and christians me with the Tonga name, Mutinta. Mutinta is a name usually given to the first girl born in a family of all boys. The Chieftainess gives me this name to mean I am the first of my kind (white/US) totally to live among the native people of her chiefdom
Back at my house, I sweep my house and charge my solar lamp and phone outside in the sun. Sometimes I hear people whistling or honking and not always sure if they are trying to get my attention or not. I ignore them.
Often when I am out and about people will call after me, "Magua, Magua!" This I do not like and will not respond to unless I meet them and explain to them I do not like to be shouted at - "Hey white person, hey you!" I tell them my name and explain who I am, in Tonga. I hope soon the entire community will know we don't like to be shouted at or called out as the "white, foreign, rich, odd person."
By dusk, I am tired. But I must bathe to wash the days dirt and grime from my body. And when I say dirt and grime, I really mean it! Dust, soil, grass - you name it - I probably have bits of it on my skin, in my ears, or stuck in my hair.
Inside my house at night I light several candles to fight away the darkness. I cook pasta with soya and some tomatoes and cover it in seasoned salt from the US to give it some flavor.
With the candles flickering, I write in my journal and field notebook about the days events, my thoughts and of course my emotions. From time to time, a nasty camel spider crawls across the wall and I smash it with my shoe. They are so gross looking! I try to read some, but my eyelids protest to stay open.
I crawl onto my bed and lay awake from the heat for a bit until finally sleep comes. I wake a few more times to sweat encroaching upon my restfulness or a cow jingling her bell outside my place. And, then, before I know it, the ox and carts start rolling again and the music of the day's events begins to play.
