Grilse

Grilse (n)- a salmon that has returned to freshwater after a single year at sea

First day back in the village after a month! I think this is a sort of turning point in my service. Reiterating thoughts I shared with family- I know I’m not totally happy here. At least, not as happy as I am at home or with my loved ones. I’m not as comfortable and not as healthy, physically or mentally. I know these things and I am going to choose to stay.

 That’s essentially the point of Peace Corps: to be somewhere radically different, to break from the comfort and ease of our known lives, and to try and serve the community in which we are placed. In this last aim, I will try my best. If, after two years, it is hard to see any difference, so be it. I will know I have tried, stayed committed, and followed through. This conviction will make a difference to me. So far, at every wrong turn I think about quitting, even if in a small part. Not an option. Needing medical or psychiatric care would be a different story; I acknowledge that. I’m in my seventh month, ¼ of the way through, and I have things to do! 

This is me being tough. 

All that said, today and yesterday were rough. I rode back to my village in the dusty heat and was warmly welcomed by my host family, which I loved. Anxious to try out my repeater, I plugged it in, turned it on, and…nothing on my phone. That was quite a blow. Mice (or worse) ate through a bottle of hair conditioner, some seed packets, one of my food bins, and pooped/nested in my clothes. Streams of ants (three different ones, to be precise) were in my doorway, by my bed, and around my water filter. The oil pourer I bought in South Africa is too small for any bottle I have. And! Someone stole my malaria medication while I was traveling. I have no idea when, as I didn’t check to see if it was there on my trip. I also lost a malachite heart pendant I bought at the Sunday market in Lusaka. I’m trying not to read into symbolism there.

On the positive side, my new shampoo makes my hair smell like honey. My angel of a host mom cleaned my house, washed my rugs, and planted my garden with tomatoes, beans, and rape (canola in American English). Apparently the pigs came and ate everything again. Some basil, mint, wusi, and tomatoes escaped. I taught my host brother Weston about mint and basil today.

Ataata has apparently been building toilets and educating about sanitation in Kaswaswa, Kafweko, and Ikongo (nearby villages), which is amazing. However, that, plus the work being done on their new house, means no cement or thatching repairs for me. I really can’t complain though and it honestly doesn’t bother me much. There is still time before rainy season. The hot season is upon us- I’m in pajama shorts for the first time since arriving. There are many noisy insects and they all seem to be thirsty. Plus, it’s very smoky. Thankfully I have apparently recovered from whatever nastiness was afflicting us at Camp TREE.

I dug a berm and one full bed in my garden today, plus some retention holes. It was nice to do physical labor but I could feel my weakness. My hands trembled still hours after I rested. The heat and sun made me pink, glistening, and light-headed. My neighbor Sid has said before it’s clear Zambians are more physically suited to this environment, while we are not. Let’s hope the garden goes better this time around. 

5 September 2017