Thursday 31 December 2015

Everyone loves colouring in

Two of the children from the neighbouring house came to visit today. We coloured for hours!

Brother and sister, Musoka and Pezo

My Christmas present

My wonderful fiance made me a swing! From scratch. Here he is modelling it, while having his breakfast of peanuts (he calls them groundnuts) and coffee.

I have the best fiance...


What do you have for breakfast?

Breakfast - oats, milk, peanuts and fresh mango from our tree!

Wednesday 30 December 2015

A beginner’s guide to the sounds of Lusaka


  • A repeated, metallic squeak. This is someone trying to get their brazier going (because there is no power again). See photo.
  • A cow bell. It’s not a cow. It’s the ice cream man on his bicycle!
  •  Crazed barking, usually at night. Full moon or not, the dogs in Lusaka (which from my auditory observations must number in the thousands) bark all night. There may be a moment of silence, before one starts barking again and they all join in. Don’t worry – with time it becomes soothing. Sort of.
  • Meeeeeeeeeeeee. Mosquito. I hope you are sleeping under a net. If you are, you will feel a sense of victory at knowing that the mosquito cannot get you.
  • Crash. Or rather CRASH!!!!!!! Like the sound of an horrendous car accident. This is a ripe mango falling from the tree onto our ceiling-less, corrugated iron roof. It is the sound of free, labour-less deliciousness.
  • Yay!!!!!! This is me and Atkins celebrating that there is power and water on AT THE SAME TIME. Bliss!
  •  Thunderous thunder. You can feel it in your bones. This is one of the magnificent thunderstorms we get. I adore them.
  • Swish, swish, swish. People sweeping. Sweeping their house, or porch, or yard. With the best brooms in the whole world! Just straw-like sticks tied together. Why don’t we have these in New Zealand? Please customs, may I bring some home with me? Because I really enjoy sweeping when I have one of these.



Best broom ever!
Getting the brazier going

How to hang your new, improved mosquito net


Background: we had single mosquito net on our double bed. It hung from a circular frame. With one person inside, you’re fine. Once you have two, at least one of you is going to spend the night with your face squished up against mosquito netting. So, we got a beautiful, big, double new one. Between us and sleeping heaven was the mere task of hanging it up. Here’s how we did it...
  1.  Strip to underwear, because it’s really hot.
  2. Put on head torches, because the power went out about 12 seconds after taking down the old net and we have no non-malaria-risking option other than to get the new one hung before we go to bed.
  3. Realise that to work properly, the net must be hung from about 2 metres above the bed.
  4.  Look hopefully around the room for a ladder.
  5. Ascertain that we do not have a ladder.
  6. Place Rachel on Atkins’ shoulders while he stands on the bed. Screw in hook to one of the rafters. Repeat 3 times.
  7. Establish that the middle of each side also needs to be attached to roof to work properly.
  8. Get out travel sewing kit and sew the emergency elastic you have kept in there for the last 8 years and sew it to the middle of each side of net.
  9. Repeat Rachel on Atkins’ shoulders routine.
  10. You’re done! High five. Now snuggle down in bed and enjoy sleep unmolested by either mosquitoes or mosquito net.



The finished product

Fire!


I have been brought up to almost paranoid about fire risk. It’s a bit different here.

Case study 1
“Baby?”
“Yes?”
“Is that OK?”
“What?”
“That giant fire beside the main road.”
“Yes, someone will be watching it.”
“Oh. OK.”

Case study 2
“Atkins.”
“Yes?”
“Our rubbish pile is on fire.”
“I know. I lit it.”
“Oh. Ok.”

Case study 3
“Darling, are those candles OK so close to the mosquito net?”
“Oh, maybe me not. We have had some problems with that.”

“Oh. Ok. I will move them a bit further away.”

Introducing Super Steve/Jimmy

We have a car!

A 2-litre, dark-blue Toyota sedan. I tried naming him Jimmy. Atkins liked it, and it has stuck with him. It didn’t work for me, so I have re-named him Super Steve. A few of you may know why. Ask Steven at school if not. Steven – it is an honour to have our ship of the road named after you, because he is a noble creature, who has transformed our lives in the following ways.


  • We are now not solely reliant on the public transport system, which generally takes the form of being squished into a van with 15 other people. I actually kind of love it, but it can be slow and sweaty.
  • We can easily visit places that public transport doesn’t go to, or doesn’t go to easily. I have big plans for adventures across Zambia.....  
  • If we run out of money, we could become taxi drivers. To do this, you just drive around honking your horn until somebody signals that they want your services. Legal, no. Entrepreneurial, yes. I reckon we might have a market edge because I am not aware of any other white female taxi drivers in Lusaka. Plus Atkins and I are both quite short, so there is always lots of leg room for passengers in the back

Super Steve’s/Jimmy’s features

  • Four doors 
  • A capacious boot 
  • One air bag (see picture below) 
  • One window that goes down and up at the press of a button 
  • All seatbelts 
  • Working boot and petrol-door release buttons
  • Functioning windscreen wipers and headlights 
  • Pristine upholstery 
  • A cheerful, here-to-help disposition 


Some personal development goals of Super Steve/Jimmy

  • Acquire a driver’s door handle that works from the outside. It’s hard to look cool when you are climbing into the driver’s seat from the passenger side.....
  •  Work out why the engine light is always illuminated on the dashboard. Surely that’s just a superficial issue, right?
  •  Have more than one window that goes down and up at the press of a button. It’s hot here, and after 10 minutes in a carpark, Super Steve/Jimmy is quite the sauna. 

Super Steve/Jimmy's "airbag"
Just to be clear, Super Steve/Jimmy drives like a dream and is a treasured addition to our household. Thank you Atkins and Simeon.