This could possible be the worlds longest blog post! But I have so much to say! I have posted a whole bunch of pics too, if you click on them you'll get a bigger view (some are definitely worth it!).
I just arrived back at Kalene after 4 weeks in a nearby village, where the aim was to learn as much Lunda as I could, and experience the culture. What a fantastic time! Here's a few pics and stories...
Home and village
I lived for 4 weeks with Anita, and her 2 month old daughter Gracie. Both lovely, although Gracie wasn't much of a conversationalist. In saying that, I did become quite familiar with such words as sleep, burp, cry, hungry, drink and hiccup as a result of many hours caring for her.
Anita's home was one of the better in the area, with a tin roof, which is more durable than thatch, but a lot noisier in the rain. At times we couldn't even hear each other speak!
The bedroom, outdoor kitchen, and living room
No electricity or running water of course. Anita apologised profusely, believing I would struggle to cope! But it wasn't a problem. Probably the fact that I knew it's only a short term thing helped, plus she insisted on waiting on me hand and foot! (which I didn't feel great about I should add!). I made up for her insistent service by caring for Gracie every chance I could.
I was pleased to not be confronted by any spitting cobras or the likes in the squat loo, and although I felt quite vulnerable at times showering in a bucket under an open sky in the grass enclosure, it was only the chickens and goats that I heard rustling nearby. The ironic thing about bathing like this was timing your baths with the rain so that you didn't get wet!
Nshima is the staple food, a mush served with a relish, or as a porridge for breakfast. 3 times a day, it does get to be a bit much.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner
The locals each have fields and mostly live off the land. Here are Anita's fields, and you can see some young makamba (casava/manioc) plants. The roots are dug up after 3 years, soaked in water for several days, pounded, dried, pounded again, sieved and then cooked. Quite a process! All done by the women.
The relish that accompanied the meals was usually tomato or mafu (leaves), often cabbage, pumpkin leaves, or sweet potato leaves. Some others were also used, how they work out which is edible and which is not is beyond me.
My nshima was the maize variety, which is a little less hard on the stomach, and the taste buds! Unfortunately the bag of maize meal I took with me to the village was riddled with bugs, as you can see in the picture (click on it for a closer view – check the bottom right corner). Anita kindly sieved them all, but it occurred to me their eggs would probably all be in our food still. I asked Anita, does that mean we eat the eggs and they hatch inside us? To which she gave a casual “probably”. Reassuring.
The first day in the village I was amused to find the kids excitedly catching large juicey crickets to cook and eat for supper. I never tried these, Anita never served them (she didn't expect me to be too adventurous), but I did try caterpillars and kapenda fish. Both I found disgusting and wouldn't eat again unless I had to!
The caterpillars live on the trees – after a few days of heavy rain they all came out at once and all the villagers went wild with delight! What a treat!
First step – squeeze out the juicy green guts. Then they are rinsed, boiled, fried and dried.
The finished product! (don't tempt me!)
The people
The people were of course great. Many an hour was spent attempting to speak Lunda with the local kids, and amusing them in the process no doubt. Of course I joined in with a number of soccer games, much to their delight. One afternoon I plucked up enough courage to play with the older boys which was hilarious. When I first joined the field of play, I was amused to discover I'd been put on the “skins” team in a game of shirts vs non-shirts. Thankfully they made an exception with me! They referred to me as the “American” for the rest of the game.
The women in the village work hard, and seem to be constantly preparing food. The men on the other hand are less often seen and sadly many of them go off and drink. The police force and renown for drinking on the job, and not receiving any due consequences. This police vehicle was driven by a "sober driver" rather than a policeman, and often needed a push start in the mornings, much to the delight of the kids, who often got a short ride down the road as a reward for their help.
Cycling down the road through the village I would often stop to speak with a new group of children, who would all want to shake my hand of course. I often found small groups of the younger kids waiting around my house, often peering in the windows, until I came outside, and they would come and sit with me to “hanjika” - chat. Mostly it consisted of me trying to say things and them saying “enga” - yes – and giggling. The older kids were more helpful in correcting my mistakes. At times I found it useful to just sit by and watch and listen as they played to see if I could pick out what they were saying.
I invited one family over for cards one night and taught them to play “mukwakulomba” - beggar. It was a hit, and they returned almost every night without fail for the last 2 weeks of my stay in the village. It helped me to learn a lot of new words, and I also made some great new friends.
Elvis on his bicycle - one size fits all!
