Mansa and Other Musings...

Against all odds, I think I have actually come to enjoy cooking. I've learned a lot in the kitchen over the last two weeks. Unfortunately, many of my dinner escapades end in disaster.

A couple of nights ago Jasmine asked me to make whipped cream. Um, okay. "How exactly do I do that, Jasmine?" "You take the cream... and you whip it."

So that's what I did. It actually turned out really well at first. I took it to Amy to see if it was "done," and she suggested adding a couple of tablespoons of sugar. I dumped a little in and started to mix it, and I was horrified! The whipped cream was clumping and separating right before my eyes!

Convinced that I had unwittingly murdered the integral ingredient of the night's desert, I carried it sorrowfully over to Jasmine. Apparently, I whipped it too long and ended up with butter. Bummer. We ate it anyway.

Yesterday, I went with the whole family to Mansa (about 3 hours away) for the weekly shopping trip. I also needed to go to Immigration and straighten out my visa. I asked and payed for a 30-day business visa at the border, but they only gave me about 10 days. Because I'm a little bit of an idiot, I didn't check my passport and didn't realize what had happened until Amy asked about it a week later.  My visa expired.  Amy and Thomas were both traveling over the next week, so I just kind of chilled at the orphanage (because running into an Immigration Officer in the village did not sound appealing). The day before she left, Amy called the Officer in Kazembe to see if he would take care of it. At that point I still had 2 days on my visa.  He refused to help us because the Morrows have sometimes had to go to Mansa to handle passport issues that have to be done at a bigger office. Petty Zambian politics.

Anyway, it all turned out well, and with a minor amount of hassle we were able to get my visa extended for the full 30 days yesterday. I'm officially legal again. Wahoo!  

I went with Amy to Shoprite to pick up the week's groceries.  First of all, do you have any idea how much food it takes to feed 20+ kids for a week? I assure you, it's a lot.  Amy has a nice little itemized grocery list that is organized by aisle, so picking up the food was not nearly the hassle that it was for Timmy and I in Lusaka.  Timmy and I only picked up a few things, but we kept going from one side of the store to the other and back again because we didn't know where anything was.

While we were in Mansa, I needed to have passport photos taken to submit with my request for a visa extension that I will need to submit in a couple of weeks.  Between the bank and the next building was a man with a digital camera who takes passport photos. The sign said 8 for 20k kwacha. He had a red piece of fabric that he stuck to the side of the bank with sticky tack. Then he held the camera in my face and snapped a picture.

While he ran off to print them, I amused myself by reading the postings on a nearby tree. One of them was a letter from the village mayor addressing the issue of citizens who were behind on their payments. He explained his remorse but said that after repeated pleadings with individuals who still refused to pay, he had authorized the bailiffs to pounce. He further communicated that people could go ahead and pay their dues before the bailiffs pounced but that there would be no mercy once the pouncing had occurred.

I dare you to think about pouncing bailiffs without smiling. You can't do it, can you?

Finally, the man came back with my pictures. He handed them to me and I counted them. There were only six.  After I badgered him a little bit, he finally produced the other two from his pocket (creeper!). The smallest bill I had was a 50k kwache. I asked him if he could make change, and he said he could. Then he handed me 25k kwache, which was 5k less than he owed me. I asked for the rest of it and he said, "No, I am from Lusaka." I replied that while I'm sure Lusaka is a very nice place, he still owed me 5k kwacha. Just when I was about to give up (5k kwacha is worth just over a dollar...), he gave me my change, called me a musungu and stalked off.

The ride home was pretty cramped as we all crammed in the back of the vehicle with the groceries and tried not to crush the vegetables.  Riding on the roads here is like riding a rollercoaster. The roads are in truly terrible condition. There are potholes larger than the average vehicle, so the driver is constantly swerving from one side of the road to the other or completely off the side to avoid these pits in the middle of the road.  I fell asleep for a little while, and when I woke up Tom was sitting in the passenger seat with an umbrella opened above him, presumably to block the sun. Maybe it's because I was only half-conscious, but it was pretty amusing at the time. On down the road we pulled over so he could inquire as to the price of a piglet.

When we finally got home, all of the kids came to help unload the car. It's so cute that they're still young enough to enjoy that. ;)

We ate (an absolutely SCRUMPTIOUS) dinner, watched some TV, and went to bed early.

This morning, I spent an hour or so mapping out a curriculum for next week. I'm really excited. I love teaching the kids. The only downside to spending the day in Mansa yesterday was that I barely saw the kids at all, and we don't do school on Saturday or Sunday. I'm having withdrawals. Saturday is just too long!


Much love!