Weekend!

Blog 6/10, 6/11

            On Friday, the Munali site (our placement) hosted the sports day for the students of special education schools in the area. We helped with the soccer games and then stuck around to help with the U12 girl’s soccer practice. That’s the same team we’ve been working with since we arrived. They’re leaving for Tanzania Thursday to play in a big tournament. Teams from South Africa, Uganda, Rwanda, and Kenya will be there too. We tried to cook corn on the cob for dinner. We bought it fresh from the woman who sells on our street and were so excited, but then we totally screwed it up. We either didn’t cook it long enough or completely overcooked it. Not totally sure which one, but it was terrible and we ended up feeding it to the dog, Snoopy. Moms—please send word a.s.a.p. of proper corn preparation tactics.

            Saturday was the most ridiculous day ever. First, we got on the bus and all seemed well before we pulled along a group of men who were literally a split second from erupting into a huge fight on the side of the road. The driver got out and broke them up, and the guy who was trying to punch someone else got on the bus, and obviously, tried to marry us. That’s the kind of luck we were having. I’m a lover, not a hater—not trying to marry a guy who fights on street corners. When we told him we were already married (thank you, fake wedding rings), he said, “So you’ll be having children soon?” Not the kind of question you normally hear at age 20. For the entire rest of the bus ride, all the men on the bus argued over whether or not we were actually married. We were so overwhelmed we didn’t even realize we were not going the right way at all. The bus stopped in the middle of this huge, bustling market and we had no choice but to get out with the rest of the passengers. Typical moment for the Obama girls—stuck on mystery road # infinity.

            Another guy spotted us right away and immediately initiated the usual chain of marriage proposals. He essentially had us trapped, and things were very, very uncomfortable before we were finally just like “okay, screw being polite—it’s time to run away”. That was followed by a long-winded discussion of women’s rights in developing countries. USA—we miss you.

            We got to Munali in time for soccer practice (it was 3 hours before the coaches and team actually showed up…oh, Zambian time). We were only there for a few minutes when we got into a really long political discussion with two men who had randomly approached us.  They were very nice, but some of the things they didn’t sit well with us.  The conversation started out as a nice history lesson on Zambia, and spiraled into something very frustrating (it was reminiscent of a conversation we had the previous day, in which a Zambian university student started explaining the nature of the 9/11 conspiracy theories…he sited “Area 51” and the belief that America never actually landed on the moon as examples. Sometimes, I just don’t really know what to say).

All said and done, we were happy when we got home that night and decided to take a break from Zambian life and do things the American way. We took hot bucket showers and made eggs for dinner. Finally, a dinner we could make flawlessly.