All The Small Things

"Even John Cusack doesn't have such appreciation for the idiosyncracies..."

A post originally written July 17-July 23rd.

Dear FF&B,

The other weekend as I waited for my Canadian friend, Jordan, I thought about the differences between visiting a place and truly living in it long enough to appreciate the subtle nuances. I am not speaking of how the prostitutes outside my gate have stopped asking to follow me when I go out at night because they’ve seen me enough to know I am not the typical tourist mzungu (white person). And you don’t have to be here long to appreciate the open, kind nature or most Zambians.

Instead, I marvel at the inquisitiveness about my own country – politics, academics, daily life… How life in Lusaka may seem the same as any other major city – hopes and dreams, career competitiveness, love and hopelessness all wrapped up into any random person.

I think of the deep religious culture that permeates everything. In the capital city, church may last only an hour… but in the rural provinces, you attend service for 3 hours, 6 hours, a whole day. Sunday is ONLY structured around church (and the market for tourists). Sermon in the morning to afternoon. Perhaps teaching choir practice at night.

I appreciate the hustle of the working class to stay a single step ahead of poverty. How taxi drivers, bus owners, street vendors struggle to make ends meet but never ask for a handout.

I feel the sense of morals and fortitude. The community’s willingness to speak out when they see a local mistreat another person, to address theft or unkindness.

Then there are the small things you only learn after having been somewhere for a while – things that aren’t even important but when you figure them out you smile a subtle smile of enlightenment to yourself. Instead of grabbing for the fork, I eat nshima with my hands. But to tentatively pull the cornmeal with your three fingertips only leads to a crumbling balled mess. Instead, grab a small fistful and bunch it up in the ball of your hand – like you’re snatching the last loaf of bread and making it part of you. Presto! One large ball to soak up the meat and sauce…

Well, in theory if the cornmeal didn’t stick to my hands! Read more!