jenniferhawke.com

[from June 2007]

you are in my thoughts and prayers. miss you, Zim.

hallo all! i am off to jolly London for a few days!

taking a bit of a (well-deserved and much needed, if i dosaysomyself!) break from writing. if you are still looking to catch up with some of my adventures in Zambia, here are a few of my favourite entries (in chronological order):

- Paul’s pessimism [on foreign aid missions]
- It’s a boy! (x2) [witnessing my first African clinic births]
- Sports day [at a community school]
- A walk to Victoria Falls [exactly as it sounds]
- Culture shock [failing to fit in]
- On writing [the biased perspective of my version of the "truth"]
- Night shift [with the labour ward nurses at the clinic]
- On the children [so much to say, but so hard to acknowledge]
- Kwazizi-la [cold mornings]
- Weekend in Zimbabwe [in three parts]
- The Post [Zambian newspaper]
- Waning [ready to go home]

it’s been a month since i’ve read any of your blogs or checked out your flickr photostreams. i am immensely looking forward to catching up with both. thank you again for all of your comments and support. i’ve read every comment and every email and appreciate every single word.

see you soon! xoxo

once again, a post to further weird out anyone that thinks i share too much on the Interwebs…

Monday, July 2nd
1:20pm – depart Livingstone, Zambia
3:00pm – arrive Johannesburg
8:15pm – depart Johannesburg
6:20am – arrive London Heathrow

spend 4 days catching up with the amazing photographer and wonderful friend, Tiffany.

Friday, July 6th
1:10pm – depart London Heathrow
2:35pm – arrive Vancouver

i love how fast the plane is from London. it’s almost shorter than flying from PG to Vancouver! ; ))

see the first, second, third, and fourth.

today is my last full day in Africa. in this little corner of Zambia. in Livingstone. and with African Impact. i know i won’t be able to write a complete “in review” post yet because most things haven’t settled enough for me to reflect on them. but i can paint a picture of my last day.

i woke up early as usual this morning and spent an hour lying in bed looking at the ceiling and the brightening window. i didn’t sleep very well last night and i’m sure it’s because my brain has already moved ahead to tomorrow. to packing. to leaving. to London. to home. to responsibilities. to real life. i tried to pull my mind back to the present and meditated on the water stains on the ceiling while reminding myself i only have 30 hours left on this continent. and who knows when i’ll be back.

as on most mornings, a text message from Jonathan pinged me out of my reverie. he’s so sweetly attentive and knows exactly when i’m waking up and always remembers to wish me good-night with almost perfect timing. the balance on my Zambian SIM card is dwindling and i’m trying to stretch it over these last two days without having to top up again. i’m sure his cell phone bill this month will be ridiculously high.

i was eating cinnamon toast and drinking tea in the kitchen downstairs by 730am. there is quite a large group of African Impact volunteers leaving today and an even larger group leaving tomorrow. i know at least two other girls on the same British Airways flight as me from Jo’burg to Heathrow.

so there are a lot of farewells happening this weekend. tearful goodbyes between volunteers and students, volunteers and orphans, volunteers and nurses, volunteers and volunteers. email addresses and good intentions to “keep in touch” are flying all around. and a whole new batch of volunteers are excitedly arriving in droves over the next week.

Monday is Hero’s Day and Tuesday is Unity Day, so it’s a very long holiday weekend in Zambia. which means today is pretty laid back, but most things are operating on at least half day hours. doesn’t affect me though. i had already decided to spend a relaxing day split between Zig Zag’s and the pool at the house. i have no more shopping or sight-seeing to do. stretching my last few kwachas as far as my last few SIM credits so i don’t need to change any more money.

and here i am tapping away while sitting cross-legged on a couch at Zig Zag’s. savoring my last vanilla nut coffee while it’s still hot and looking forward to breakfast in a few minutes. my only significant priorities for today are to check-in online for my flight (seat selection!) and coordinate with Tiffany regarding my London arrival.

tonight i will pack my things and hopefully find a clean t-shirt to wear on the plane home. my bag wasn’t overflowing when i arrived and i haven’t added many souvenirs since i’ve been here, so i’m not too worried about fitting it all in. then tomorrow we head to the airport around 11am. the plane will be filled with African Impact from Livingstone to Jo’burg and i’m sure we’ll spend our layover together, eating and buying last minute trinkets at the airport.

and that’s it. a slow day brings a slow week to a close. i apologize for putting you through my slow writing this week. i think it’s time for a little break. : ))

Friday is quickly coming to a close. it’s 545pm and the sun has pretty much set. my stomach tells me it’s time for dinner. then i will probably indulge in a bit of socializing and an early bedtime. ending the week was actually harder than i thought…

John gave me a big hug as i said good-bye to Dambwa clinic this morning. i couldn’t hold back the tears and ended up mumbling a rushed farewell when the truck rolled up. i gave him his present, but couldn’t stay to watch him open it. i had anticipated our departure would be hurried and had tucked in a thank-you note with it this morning.

i was surprised at my emotion because the tears just kept coming even as we drove away. i wasn’t sure i felt sad at leaving the people behind… for some reason i felt i was leaving a part of myself behind. the wind in the truck was freezing as usual, but i didn’t put my sweater back on. i was thankful for the cold and welcomed my shivering limbs. the physical discomfort distracted me from my emotional turbulence.

i’m having a hard time even writing about it now… words and feelings are mixed up behind a protective wall. i think i have to let them sit before i can elaborate further… maybe they will be clearer then. maybe they will be gone then. either way, i have physically said “good-bye” to a huge part of my time here in Livingstone, but i know i will emotionally carry it with me indefinitely.

i squish the neon orange plugs and twist them in my ears until the sound of my heartbeat drowns out the howling dogs. thump-thump. thump-thump. i can no longer hear the night guard’s radio. no more laugher and voices from the girls down the hall and downstairs. i won’t even hear my roommate fumbling in the dark tomorrow morning when she gets up an hour earlier to meet her teaching bus.

there is a huge tree dense with dark leaves outside our bedroom window. in the morning, i like to lay in bed and watch as the rising sun pokes holes of light through the leaves like stars in a dark sky.

i lie in bed longer now. the mornings are freezing and sometimes i will put my socks on underneath the covers. then i turn back the three blankets reluctantly and quickly get dressed. it’s funny how we used to comment that you could recognize most of the children because they wear the same thing every day. and here i am wearing the same two sweaters every morning.

tomorrow is my last day of work here at the clinic. i will spend the morning with John at Dambwa and the afternoon with the Family Planning nurses at Maramba. then i will come back to the house and have dinner and be released from my responsibilities in this little corner of Zambia.

perhaps some of you have noticed that my writing has slowed. i’m not posting 7 or 8 entries each day anymore. my writing has slowed because my seeing has slowed. i’ve stopped looking at most things and only notice when they jump up and slap me in the face. i’ve spent this week closing off my senses and turning inward. the earplugs are stuck in tight. and so i don’t have much to say.

i bought the local paper today for 3,000 kwachas. according to the front and back pages it is “The paper that digs deeper.” “Zambia’s leading newspaper” claims that “While others imitate, we originate.”

the front page has a photo of President Mwanawasa buying detergent paste to mark the “Keep Zambia Clean” campaign. he is a round man with a round head in a purple shirt with a ring on his right hand. i recognize his face from the framed photo hung in most of the shops and all of the money changing places. a woman in a blue construction hat stands next to him and there is an array of photographers behind them.

today’s headline is: I WANTED TO EMBARRASS LEVY — SATA. Michael Sata is the Patriotic Front president and Levy Mwanawasa is the current president. according to the article, Sata was denied his chance because he was not allowed to give a vote of thanks during the launch of the Zambia Centre for Inter-party Dialogue. next to the article is a 1/4 page ad in yellow and red for ShopRite. they have extended their trading hours for this coming holiday weekend.

inside, i am informed that my “dream car has arrived!!” it’s the 2007 Hyundai Santa Fe !! on the same page, an ad for Dettol germicide soap tells me that there are 300,000 germs on my hands. i get up and wash the newspaper ink off with a bar i have in the bathroom.

the next few pages are filled with HOME NEWS involving leaders with names i can’t pronounce and paragraphs formatted in a slightly strange version of English. i find it hard to follow and notice a lot of paragraphs start with the word “And”. one of the only familiar stories is that of the recent London judgment regarding former president Chiluba’s fraudulent activity. he has been ordered to pay recoveries, interests, and costs, but applied to have the judgment set aside.

in Kabwe, health workers are going on strike and police have arrested a councillor for theft. in Petauke, the Catholic Commission for Justice Development and Peace has disbursed K1.1 billion to 27 community projects.

in BUSINESS NEWS, June’s inflation rate has decreased by 0.7 points to 11.1% and the Mineworkers Union of Zambia urge the government to amend the labour act. US oil stockpiles are apparently increasing and the Swedish state will review the OMX-Nasdaq deal. CIA’s plot to kill Fidel is detailed and Laura Bush targets malaria in Africa. oh, and Sudan’s presidential aide dies in a car accident.

in the COMMENT section, a rather intelligent article pokes satirical fun at the government’s decision to give the lecturer’s a raise — by taking the money from the students. underneath that, the question “Who is Gordon Brown?” and how he will acquire legitimacy as Britain’s new leader is examined in detail.

a CLASSIFIED section is filled with a couple dozen unsmiling colour photos wishing Happy Birthday and an advertisement for Kachema Meat Supplies: See!!! Buy!!! Fry!!! with a drawing of sheep underneath. i can only think of Smell!!!

after the classifieds comes a huge pull-out section almost as thick as the rest of the paper. The Farmers Post starts with colour advertisements for tractors and ends with “How to keep quails: A personal experience”.

Dear Auntie Edith and a few letters to the editor kick off the LIFESTYLE section. Beyonce and Mo’Nique perform at the 7th annual BET Awards.

the paper ends with a SPORTS section covering everything from Venus on the tennis court to Zambian golfers at a Kenya tourney to Esther Phiri vowing to pound Radostinea Valcheva in an upcoming boxing match.

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.”
~ t-shirt gift from a fellow volunteer

one of the American members of the “Awesome Foursome” brought over a t-shirt she had printed for me. well, she had one printed for herself and decided i might like one too. some of you may recognize the first half of the quote from Thoreau’s “Walden”.

another gift i am bringing home is an alphabet drawing from one of the girls at the afternoon reading club. today’s project was to write each letter of the alphabet and then draw a picture beside it that started with that letter. while other kids crowded the bench desks in twos and threes and even fours, Janet sat at the back by herself. she drew an apple for A, a banana, a carrot, a dog with a long pink tongue, an elephant, a betterfly (her spelling), a horse, an ice-bloock (her spelling), and a kalulu (no idea what that is).

for J she drew a jennifer. i have small eyes and eyebrows, two dots for my nose, and flat lines of hair across my head. a v-neck t-shirt covers shoulders wider than my head with skinny stick arms. i thought it was a perfect — and perfectly flattering — representation. i’m sure it will end up framed somewhere at home.

speaking of home, i’m not really bringing many gifts back. i know it will be impossible to bring a piece of this corner of Africa home with me and it feels futile to even try. instead, i hope my stories over coffee will be enough.

this week feels sort of like running downhill. i’d like to slow a little, but i can’t. instead i’ve surrendered myself to the momentum carrying me to the bottom. i’m concentrating at keeping my feet under me and forgetting to observe the things around me. physically and mentally, i feel big changes becoming obvious.

my arms look like they belong on another body. i feel like a doll with brown arms snapped in the sockets instead of the white ones that match her torso. naked in front of the mirror, i look like i am wearing a bright white sleeveless shirt. from the knees down, my legs are shiny brown with golden glints of the hair i haven’t shaved all month. white Vs cross the tops of my feet from my flip flops. i’m sure the Zambian sun has given me a few new wrinkles, but not only due to sun exposure.

since arriving back in Livingstone from Zimbabwe, i have also felt a significant shift in my attitude. i am socializing with the girls more. listening to their gossip and sharing my own. i am sitting by the pool reading in the sunshine at lunch time. i am talking about myself and getting to know things i could have learned about my housemates weeks ago.

i am distancing myself from Africa.

i am putting up walls of self defense with the hopes that my departure will be easier. i guess with the hopes that my departure will feel right and solid and final and timely and logical. i am drawing my emotions and hopes and disappointments back inside. circling the wagons, you might say. talking with the girls in the house helps me be my old self again. helps me remember who i was just by repeating practiced social conventions: “how are you?” “i am fine.” “when do you leave?” “what are you doing when you get home?” “is lunch ready?” “are you having a good day?” etc.

i can feel the lotus blossom in my chest closing slowly, but with determination. i am not worried because i know it will open again. it will open again after storing these thoughts and memories and emotions. it will open again when i am back with people i love and who love me in return.

shortly before bed, around 9pm, i like to eat a bowl of Corn Flakes while standing up in the kitchen. the boxed milk is full fat and too sweet, so i use it sparingly. the Flakes stay crunchy longer that way too. we only have a few bowls in the house and most often have to use small deep plates. the spoons are all tiny, more suited for measuring sugar into your cup of tea than transporting mouthfuls of cereal or yogurt.

i also like using the sandwich toaster to make cheese toasties late at night. butter or margarine on the outside of the bread cooks to a brown crisp while Gouda cheese and tomatoes melt together inside. ground black pepper tops it off and makes me want a big glass of milk when i’m done. but the full fat tastes like drinking cream, so i opt for water instead.

i have introduced the girls from Scotland to cinnamon toast. i think they looked at me a little crazy the first day i sprinkled brown sugar and the dark brown spice over melting margarine on my bread fresh from the toaster. now they are hooked. they have it before bed and first thing in the morning. Ivy has had to buy more cinnamon for us.

sometimes at lunch (especially if the egg salad has far too much mayo or the pasta salad is dripping with oil) i have a bowl of plain yogurt with sliced kiwi. i hope not to offend Ivy by passing up her cooking, but her heavy hand with the butter and oil has been hard on my stomach. in the evenings, i sometimes will skip dinner and have a cheese toastie after Ivy has gone home for the night.

i like the Ginger Nuts cookies from the grocery store. they don’t have nuts in them, so i’m a little confused at the name. we call them ginger snaps back home. they are good dunked in tea or milk (yes, even full fat) and their dense texture travels well in the bottom of my backpack. sweet and spicy.

i have stopped drinking coffee! the bag of favourite grounds that i brought from home has been sitting in the freezer untouched for weeks. instead i have a cup of Red Rose in the morning and another around 4pm. i experimented with sugar and cream for a little while, but found i prefer it black like my coffee. i didn’t think i missed coffee very much, but as i type this i realize i am looking forward to a good brew at home.

some of the girls are making lists in their heads of things they want to eat when they get home. comfort foods they miss. favourite dishes that just aren’t the same out here. one of the girls has instructed her mother to cook a big roast dinner for her arrival. she misses the gravy and mash. for some reason i miss Pop Tarts. i rarely eat them at home, but would love a raspberry or strawberry one with burn-the-roof-of-your-mouth icing on top.