Tuesday May 18
Today was the first full day of the clinic and brick building. 144 children and 250 blocks later, the nurses feel accomplished and by back is killing me. Hard manual labor with Zambian inmates is a surprisingly fun experience. We would mix 4 loads of flack stone with a bag of cement and add water. If you’ve ever made pasta, it’s a similar process…just with rocks and cement. Once the mix was mixed (not an easy feat by any means) a shoveler would throw some of the stuff into a mold and the smasher would pick up the mold and smash it on the ground to make sure all the corners were well-packed. The shoveler would then top off the mold and slap it with the back of the shovel before the smasher moved the mold to the row of drying blocks and relieved the mold of it’s wet filling. At one point, my shoveler (I was a much better smasher) asked me if I was tired and needed a break. “Nope,” I replied. “You are doing a fine job.” Nothing like some affirmation in the morning.
After we got home that night Chad, Andy, Pethias and I caught a cab back into Ndola to meet the girls at the internet cafe. I checked my grades, was satisfied and the girls left. The cafe closed and we hung out on the curb, entertained by the drunken antics of the other men on the curb. We talked about things with Pethias for a long while about Zambia, girls, phones, and life, and the whole time we were under the impression that we were waiting for a bus. After a while Pethias turns to us and says, “So, should we go look for a taxi?” We all laughed and got up because we thought that was what we were doing. It was a small lesson in letting go and not worry about the next stop.
We walked a few blocks before we saw a cab but another man was getting into it. We must have looked pretty disheartened because he leaned out the window and said, “we can all fit!” Pethias went to talk to the driver who shared a similar sentiment and Chad, Andy, Pethias and I got into the back seat of this tiny cab. As Chad, who led the way, slid into the seat, the driver turns to him and says, “you must hold my speaker,” and handed him what looked like a speaker from a low-end hi-fi that one might find at a yard sale for $15. We both assumed that he was just transporting this speaker, maybe from a repair shop to his stereo system at home… until we were all packed in (Andy on Pethias’ lap, and I, on Andy’s) and music started coming out of the speaker – loud music. Specifically, Tech N9ne. Chad’s full bladder really appreciated the pronounced bass. We made it back, paid the man 10,000 Kwacha and Chad ran to the bathroom. We all laughed about it for a while.
Wednesday May 19
I rolled out of bed and immediately regretted my foray into brick building the day before. Most of the clinic pictures were taken and the clinic saw the rest of the kids. Chad and I did our best to shirk our physical duties by making trips to the chemist to buy more drugs for the kids. We also went to the old school and bought more than enough sugar cane for everyone. It was a far cry from the cut-up and bagged sugar cane cubes I was used to, but after many failed attempts, I had nearly mastered Marvin’s technique. We found a praying mantis and had a lengthy photoshoot. Marcus found ouf that the little child he though was a boy is actually a girl.
We had dinner as a group and apparently not only the Zambian children think we’re older than we really are, but so do Savour and Marvin (who are 20+) who guessed Andy, Ryan and I as 23ish. Back at mama Lillian’s, we made fwytumbua, or fritters. Everyone was very amused that we were so excited for something so common and plain to them.
