Today I received the checks from the Rotary Club of Ndola and began actually purchasing the items for the interior of the first home. It felt so good to finally be buying the items for the home! But of course, nothing goes as planned, and some of the household items originally ordered were no longer available, so some substitutions were made. Things we would never even think about in the U.S. For instance, the frying pan June and I had ordered was no longer available. I asked the clerk to see what other ones she had and I would just choose one of them. She said there were none. It all worked out in the end and I loaded up the Land Cruiser – every square inch - with sheets, blankets, pillows, towels, silverware, pots and pans and the like. The last store I picked from (in Zambia you don’t pick up, you just pick) they sent their guard to stand with me until I was pulling away. They were afraid with all the merchandise, and the color of my skin, I might be a target. So, a tough looking elderly man with a big stick, and a gruff voice stood at the back of the car until I started driving off. Then he flashed a big smile and waved as I pulled out. I guess he’s only tough when he has to be. Then I drove out to our warehouse storage. Mr. Patel, the manager there, was surprised to see me alone, and had one of his yard men help me unload the car. I know it will be some time before all of these things are put into use, but it’s so good to take the next step!
Then it was off to Kasongo to deliver Annie’s monthly food supplies, so I stopped at George to pick (up) Ron. There were about fifteen men, in a one meter deep trench, furiously digging with picks and shovels, creating the beginnings of our next building – the cafeteria. Sandy, one of the younger men, was busy cooking lunch – nshima and buka fish. The nshima is cooked in a tin bucket over an open fire. Boil the water first, then keep adding the mealie meal (a fine corn meal) until it’s the proper consistency, stirring frequently with a huge wooden paddle. The small fish are scaled using a hacksaw blade, and then cut in half with the same. (Ron only eats the tail end!) They are salted and laid in the sun on the roll of wire used for the block work, then eventually cooked over the open fire in oil in a blackened tin container which has the top rolled back. Meanwhile, Sandy was also cleaning the plastic pans used to serve lunch and that they eat out of. Today we were watching, and Ron asked “Is that soap powder?” The answer was, “No, its sand. There is no soap.” He was using water with sand as an abrasive to clean the pans. And his rag was a small piece of the sack from the mealie meal. I had never seen them cleaning the dishes before, but am told this is the usual procedure at the work site. When I was buying the food stuffs for Annie, I had bought one box of dish paste for our own use. Wasn’t it strange that it was the only extra thing I had bought? When I brought the soap to him, you would think I had given him a handful of gold! Such a small thing. Such a huge smile. The soap cost 4,500 kwacha (about $1.15) and it will last a long, long time. I would never have imagined that dish soap could be so valuable… and so unattainable. The men here choose very carefully, and must make tough decisions. If they bring something like soap to the work site for their own use, then their family must do without. It’s a really tough life – using sand to clean dishes. We also found a cloth they could use instead of the piece of gunny sack. When lunch was ready, there were three plastic bins with nshima and three with fish. The men washed, and then sat in circles around the bins of food, under whatever little shade they could find. Philemon prayed a blessing over the food and the men, then everyone took a couple handfuls of nshima and a few pieces of the fish. You then pinch off small pieces of the nshima, rolling it into a ball with one hand and eat it with the fish. After you have pried the fish open with your fingers and removed the innards, the bones fall out, and you eat all the rest. And I mean ALL the rest – skin and eyes included. We are always welcome to share in the noon day meal, but I still can’t bring myself to even try to eat the fish. Luckily, they are just amused by my squeamish nature, and no offense is taken. They just say, “Oh, it’s very good! Maybe one day you’ll try.” And I answer, “Maybe…” And then they laugh. Wonder if we ate out of the pans washed with sand or dish soap.
Then it was off to Kasongo to deliver Annie’s monthly food supplies, so I stopped at George to pick (up) Ron. There were about fifteen men, in a one meter deep trench, furiously digging with picks and shovels, creating the beginnings of our next building – the cafeteria. Sandy, one of the younger men, was busy cooking lunch – nshima and buka fish. The nshima is cooked in a tin bucket over an open fire. Boil the water first, then keep adding the mealie meal (a fine corn meal) until it’s the proper consistency, stirring frequently with a huge wooden paddle. The small fish are scaled using a hacksaw blade, and then cut in half with the same. (Ron only eats the tail end!) They are salted and laid in the sun on the roll of wire used for the block work, then eventually cooked over the open fire in oil in a blackened tin container which has the top rolled back. Meanwhile, Sandy was also cleaning the plastic pans used to serve lunch and that they eat out of. Today we were watching, and Ron asked “Is that soap powder?” The answer was, “No, its sand. There is no soap.” He was using water with sand as an abrasive to clean the pans. And his rag was a small piece of the sack from the mealie meal. I had never seen them cleaning the dishes before, but am told this is the usual procedure at the work site. When I was buying the food stuffs for Annie, I had bought one box of dish paste for our own use. Wasn’t it strange that it was the only extra thing I had bought? When I brought the soap to him, you would think I had given him a handful of gold! Such a small thing. Such a huge smile. The soap cost 4,500 kwacha (about $1.15) and it will last a long, long time. I would never have imagined that dish soap could be so valuable… and so unattainable. The men here choose very carefully, and must make tough decisions. If they bring something like soap to the work site for their own use, then their family must do without. It’s a really tough life – using sand to clean dishes. We also found a cloth they could use instead of the piece of gunny sack. When lunch was ready, there were three plastic bins with nshima and three with fish. The men washed, and then sat in circles around the bins of food, under whatever little shade they could find. Philemon prayed a blessing over the food and the men, then everyone took a couple handfuls of nshima and a few pieces of the fish. You then pinch off small pieces of the nshima, rolling it into a ball with one hand and eat it with the fish. After you have pried the fish open with your fingers and removed the innards, the bones fall out, and you eat all the rest. And I mean ALL the rest – skin and eyes included. We are always welcome to share in the noon day meal, but I still can’t bring myself to even try to eat the fish. Luckily, they are just amused by my squeamish nature, and no offense is taken. They just say, “Oh, it’s very good! Maybe one day you’ll try.” And I answer, “Maybe…” And then they laugh. Wonder if we ate out of the pans washed with sand or dish soap.
1 comment:
dear mary sue, so they clean with sand and burlap, pretty ingenious. i miss you sister, and miss you on weds nites. rusty says you look skinny and i want you to post a picture, please dont eat the fish. yuk.love and kisses, your son and moon sister, barbara
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