Today was a really busy and exhausting day. On the way to Fountain Of Hope our bus decided to take a random detour through back dirt bumpy roads filled with pot holes, hills, and massive rocks. We were swerving and going up and down, like a bad rollercoaster. We realized that the bus had taken these back roads because they wanted to avoid the police officers they had seen up ahead on the main road. Most of the buses don’t pay their taxes so they shouldn’t legally allowed to be driving, and when the police decide to have random checks the buses get pulled over and everyone has to get out. None of the bus drivers want to lose their business and get in trouble so they do whatever they can to avoid the police. If they can’t, then the usually just pay off the officers. Corruption with police officers is a huge problem here; you can pretty much pay them off for anything.
When we finally got to Fountain Of Hope it was a little after 10 and the Bowdoin kids were already there. Shortly after, Vasco and Kenny said it was time to leave for the street walk. We walked all the way into town. On the way we passed by tons of little stores and booths that were selling pretty much anything you could imagine. Once we got downtown we entered a really large building that was bustling with people. Upon entering there was a very distinct smell that stood out, and it was not a pleasant one. When I looked up ahead I could see that we had just entered a local meat market and butchery. We walked along a narrow hallway, with all the meat on tables at our left. I saw some of the most revolting things I have ever seen. Bloody guts and innards of random animals, chicken feet and pig hooves, this blackish mushy sawdust looking stuff (not sure what it was), and then I saw goat legs because they were still furry and had the feet dangling off the table. I know for a fact that if my sister had been there she would have vomited on the spot. We had to move quickly and precisely to avoid touching anything on the tables. Also, Vasco was leading the group and he walks very fast so we had to weave in and out of the crowd in order to keep up. After turning around a corner we came to the butchers area where we saw full cow carcasses hanging as they were cut apart. One man tried to grab Chrissy’s arm but she jerked away, and I could see that his hand had some nasty bloody substance on it. He then reached for my face and if I hadn’t leaned all the way backwards I would have had animal remains smeared across my cheek. FOUL.
We finally got out of the market and as we were crossing the street one of the Bowdoin girls, Shazeda, and I almost got hit by a car. The drivers here don’t really stop for pedestrians. That would have been a great start to our day, another trip to that horrible hospital. We walked through some alleyways filled with women cooking nshima, vegetables, and meats. Then we got to a huge open dusty field where kids were roaming about and lying and planks of wood. This was our first destination on the street walk.
It’s not often that you can say you’ve spent time with kids who are living on the street and completely addicted to drugs. It definitely wasn’t a happy experience but it was certainly eye opening. The two commonly used drugs by this population of kids are “sticka” and “bostic.” They are both liquids that they poor onto rags and then sniff. We saw almost every kid (around ages 9 to 25) using this stuff. It was clear and they just had small plastic bottles of it in their pockets. A lot of the kids were just holding the rags up to their noses and mouths a lot. Vasco and Kenny told us that a lot of the girls on the street sleep with the boys just to get some bostic. It’s really sad to see that in pretty much all situations here the girls feel entirely dependent on the boys. Not that I want the girls doing drugs at all, but the fact that they have to sleep with guys just to get the drugs is even worse. The kids here are so addicted that they will do pretty much anything for it. We met a lot of kids and talked to them for a while about their lives and why they are living on the streets. One boy, Shabzu, had already been at Fountain but he had run away and gone back to the streets. He told me that he wanted to go back to school and come back to Fountain, and it really seemed like he meant it. I told him that was the best decision and I had him talk to Vasco.
We then walked a little further and stopped at the Lusaka City Market. It was packed with people, and in one corner we found more of the street boys hanging out. We kept talking to them and tried to convince some of the kids to give up using drugs and come to Fountain. We heard more stories, and still none of them were happy. A boy named Moses was selling the drugs and explained that it was too good of a business to give up. I asked him if he wanted to be doing this the rest of his life, and he said no, but he didn’t want to stop now. I tried to explain that the longer he was on drugs the harder it would be to stop. He then said that he would finish selling this bottle and then marry me….hmm ehh I don’t know about that one. Blessing, a third boy I talked to, gave me his brief life story. Blessing told me that his mom had died in 2001 and his dad had died in 2006. He has 5 younger sisters living in the Copperbelt with his grandmother and an older brother living in the nearby compound, but he is on the streets. He said that the drugs were his blanket at night. Since these kids all have to sleep on the streets and it gets really cold, they get really high/drunk so that they can stay warm. I said that he wouldn’t need the drugs if he had a bed and a blanket. His addiction is so bad though that my reasoning didn’t matter. All of us had conversations like this, trying to get more boys to come to Fountain, and some seemed successful. A few boys said they would be there tomorrow or by Friday, but I’m not sure if they ever showed up.
On our walk back we went by one last area where Vasco knew some young boys. There were three of them, Moses (who had already been at Fountain 3 times), Joseph, and Loyd. They were all under 12, and they barely spoke English. They were really cute and all had little handmade slingshots – it was clear that they stuck together. We convinced them to leave and come with us to Fountain. After about 3 minutes Vasco stopped them and said they had to go back to Fountain on their own and meet us there. He explained to us that since they had already run away more than once they had to go back to Fountain on their own, showing that they truly wanted to be there. I don’t think they were there when we got back, but I have hope that they showed up later. It makes me really depressed thinking about them being back on the street, fending for themselves, and sleeping in the cold.
After a quite depressing morning I left Fountain and headed over to Munali to coach my team’s basketball practice (the Spartans). Chrissy stayed at Fountain a little longer and talked to Vasco and Kenny, hearing some more stories about the kids on the street that we had met. (From Chrissy: He told us that the kids will get revenge on each other after fights by lighting plastic garbage on fire and letting the melting pieces drip on each other’s arms and faces while they’re passed out from the drugs. Yiiikes)
I was hoping that basketball would put me in a better mood, and sure enough it did. The practice with my under 15s went really well and we had a full 10 players show up. I ran them in some drills, defense, worked on their shooting, and taught them a motion offense. Since I had a full team they were also able to scrimmage at the end of practice, which was great. Their coach, Timo, didn’t show up till the end of practice, but by now I’m just used to that. He’s a really nice guy, he just runs on Zambian time a lot. After I was done coaching the Junior Spartans practice, the first few boys from the senior team started to arrive. On Monday, while I was coaching the junior team, the coach of the senior team (Coach Robert) was watching. I met him after practice and he said he was impressed with what I was doing and asked if I’d be able to help coach the senior team. I said yes, and fully expected the senior team to be the under 18 team. Little did I know, I had just signed on to coaching the 19-25 year-old boys.
The team showed up, and they were all huge! I talking really tall, super athletic, and really intimidating basketball players. I would have to admit that some of them were pretty good looking too. Why the hell would they listen to me, a 20 year-old girl from the US. I texted the coach because he wasn’t there yet, and his reply was, “I’m not coming today, the team is all yours, do what you like.” Oh wonderful, so now I have to come up with an entire 2-hour practice for this team. After they warmed up the team’s captain, Kawana, turned to me and said “We’re ready Coach.” So, I ran them for two hours. I modified some of the drills I did with the younger boys, and made them run a ton more for their mistakes (missed layups, shots, etc). Then I taught them two new offenses to run against a man-to-man. Only 10 players were there so I played on defense while going through the plays. I was really surprised that they gave me their full attention and respect. I had to leave their practice early because it was getting dark so I just told them to play 4 on 4 for the last 10 minutes and then shoot 20 foul shots each before heading out. I gave them a mini pep talk and they thanked me for coming and then asked if I would be back for their practices, or at least for their game on Saturday. I told them I wasn’t sure, and they insisted, saying that it’s nice to have someone else they can listen to other than their coach. It really made me wonder how bad their coach could be, but it also made me fell pretty good. I decided that I’m really going to enjoy working with this team.
I took the bus to and met Chrissy and Ivy for bogo pizza Tuesday. Our order took forever to come out because it was so crowded, but when it did we successfully devoured 4 medium pizzas. Then we headed home, watched a movie, and went to bed.
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