ah, the rains are here!

A couple of genuine, drenching rain sessions and Zambia has woken up into farming mode so going out into the bush on home visits, the view has changed dramatically.  
Most of the trees  are evergreens and some other plants seem to have sensed the rains' imminent arrival and greened up in anticipation but the obvious change is in the level of human activity in the landscape.  Some ploughing and soil preparation has been going on for a month or more but now it seems everyone's out, preparing, fertilising and sowing.
This is for the maize crop, the staple foodstuff of Zambia and other Southern African countries, eaten as a stiff porage, nshima here in Zambia, sadza in Zimbabwe and mealie-pap in South Africa.  Other foods will be grown during the rainy season: groundnuts, beans, potatoes (both sweet and 'irish'), carrots, cabbage, okra, spinach and many more.  
Plants can also be grown out of the rainy season but only by those with access to water for irrigation, either on a small scale by those living near a dam (reservoir) or river or on a larger scale by the large commercial farms which are fully mechanised.
Soil preparation is done by ploughing (tractor or oxen) or by hand, using a 'hoe' to make softened lines, neatly and evenly-spaced, ready for the fertiliser and seeds.  The face of the countryside is changed from a dusty, dry tangle of old maize stalks, branches and leaves to an ordered, mainly brown terrain with the detritus of the last harvest cleared away.  This, coupled with the freshness in the air brought by the cooler weather and the lovely wet, bring about a sudden change to this land.  You can almost smell the hope in the air, anticipating the harvest already though this is still some months away.

The rains cometh...and so do the inswa

Hurrah! the real thing is here after some preliminary showers and rumbles of thunder.  So far, not too heavy but I imagine I can hear the grass and trees gratefully sucking up the welcome moisture!
After the first really wet night, a grey dawn brightened slowly to display a motley group of small boys, rummaging about below the fluorescent light left on at night, under the eaves of the clinic building opposite our front door.  Clutching an assortment of small plastic bottles, empty crisp bags and cans, they are busily collecting something from the ground below the light- the scene looking surreal because of the drifts of gossamer wings drifting round their eager faces. 
Then I remember- the inswa hunt is on! Inswa are termites that fly at the onset of the rains..to reproduce? move house? just for the fun of it? (research needed) They are attracted to an outdoor light  in the same way as moths are, drop to the floor, their wings fall off and they crawl away into crevices.  Their pale plump bodies shun bright sunlight but their escape bid isn't fast enough to avoid the hunters who scoop them up, filling their containers.  Later the boys or their sisters or mums will fry them in a dry hot pan (Inswa contain their own 'cooking oil') and sprinkle them with salt- a delicious tasty crispy snack.
I wondered about inswa with scrambled eggs as a kind of African eggs Benedict but I thought it a step too far so I left the young hunters to their prey.

Zambian transport

Last time I lived here, I was the proud owner/driver of a Toyota Hilux, single cab for aficionados which means a single bench seat in the cab for driver plus 2 passengers and a largo open back, perfect for offering strangers lifts while staying safe or carrying large items of furniture, 25 school kids or 3 coffins, all of which I had opportunity to do.  Some creativity was needed during the rainy season with waterproof sheets and ropes and sun protection for back space passengers in the form of chitenges but it was a great asset.  Called Hildah the Hilux.
This time, living 15 km from Lusaka on Kafue Road, part of the Great North Cape to Cairo road, buses are plentiful and cheap.  They are rather well-used minibuses, painted a bright blue with names like "Excelsior" " Lord of the Roads" or simply "Alleluia!".  The conductor/money collector, hangs out and, spotting a potential passenger, issues a loud, high pitched whistle to attract attention and tells the driver to stop if the passenger shows interest whereon the driver swerves off the road to the dusty non-tarmac area beside, often careering dangerously close to a ditch or chasm.  The lucky passenger is then packed into the already heavingly overloaded bus which shoots out into the heavy traffic.  BUT, I can get to Lusaka for 5,000 Kwacha, about 60p and the speed is good, the only exception being when a bus is beginning its journey when it will wait until stuffed with paying passengers to maximise the income generated.
I see interesting people on the bus;  the early (8am) voluble drunk man,  young women chatting on their mobile phones, school children travelling to school in beautifully laundered white socks (how long can that last in this land of brown dust?) tiny babies sleeping snugly wrapped in woolly jumpers and knitted hats, tied to their mothers' backs with brightly coloured and patterned chitenges.
So no regrets for swapping my transport to the bus- and I can get the occasional taxi without  coming near the cost of running another Hildah- just pray I don't end up in that chasm!

two months on....

A typical dawn view as I stand at the open door, singing psalms with the sisi birds (Blue waxbills but that's the sound they make)

Visitations

is the grand title of those occasions when we pile into the Mother of Mercy Hospice minibus or Hilux to run mobile clinics, offer HIV testing or make visits to our patients in their homes (or, even better for them, when they're not at home because they're working or visiting elsewhere- healthy enough to be active!)
The idea of home visits is to make sure they are being looked after if necessary and supported by an 'adherence supporter' or buddy who checks that the medication regime is being adhered to.  This is crucial as, when drugs are missed, HIV can develop resistance to that set of drugs, necessitating a change of regime (or 'line') As there only are a limited number of drugs available and some are not suitable for other medical reasons, the patient is entering an even more tricky area.
On other occasions, the minibus is packed up with HIV testing kits, tables and stools and we set up a mobile testing facility in one of the busy compounds.  Those who present (usually 40 in a morning session) are counselled, given the rapid fingerprick test and recounselled after when the result is known (about 10 minutes)
The third category of visitation is a mobile ART clinic, offering counselling, health checks and the provision of ART (anti retro viral therapy) medications to patients enrolled in our clinic but living as much as a two day journey (on foot) away from the hospice.  This follows exactly the procedure carried out at our regular (Tues, Thurs and Fri) clinics.
We're an adaptable bunch; have minibus,will travel that extra mile to ensure our patients are well cared for and respected, even the poorest or the most remote. 

Praise and worship in Chilanga

The 33rd Sunday of the church's year today, energetically and reverentially (those aren't contradictory)  celebrated here.  I go to the English mass which means the liturgy and homily are in English and some of the singing.  This starts at  7 hours to be followed by the Nyanja Mass at 9 hours so timing can be a pressure.  This morning, though, Mass began at 6.55 hours and ended at 8.40 hours: a visiting priest, a young Franciscan, was concerned about upsetting local arrangements so was eager to be punctual.  This managed despite an extra procession; today is Bible Sunday so the Holy (Oyera) Bible was danced in and ensconced on a specially decorated lecturn in pride of place in the sanctuary.
The usual (short) entry procession of the seven servers, beautifully robed in white and the presiding priest, following a large heavy cross carried usually by the smallest server, atated proceedings.  The special entry of the Bible happened before the liturgy of the Word; after the gospel the congregation filed up to put their offerings in one of two padlocked wooden chests, in preparation for the Offertory procession.  Accompanied by loud praises sung by the choir and congregation, about thirty women in matching chitenges (skirts) T shirts and head wraps danced slowly in with gifts including sacks of maize meal, vegetables, bottles of cooking oil, chickens and goats (for special feasts or anything involving a bishop) either on the hoof or trussed and carried on shoulders.  Following them come the week's chosen group, either men, women or youths who make their added contributions, either in kind or envelopes containing money.  Everything is presented to the priest with a little bob or curtsey (men and women both), following which they walk or dance back to their seats.  Loud ululations of joy and praise punctuate the music and some great dance moves can be enjoyed as many men and women have their own style which they are happy to show uninhibitedly before God and the congregation.
The Mass goes its customary way after this, with a long queue for Holy Communion and some varied and interesting notices, usually containing pleas for financial help to finish the church extension.
Then breakfast- two boiled eggs, toast and marmalade and coffee if I can get it on this well-started Sunday!

Monday again, start of a new week.  This week some colleagues are on leave, including the adherence so, suitably upskilled and informed, I am ready to try that role tomorrow, with the able assistance of Sister A and Faides. 

Some staff have travelled to Mpansha to get some planning work done and to visit the Borromeo Sisters' mission hospital there.  Maybe I'll get another opportunity to visit there but for now, I feel I'm needed (or I need to be) here.

The rains made a little show but now seem to have withdrawn and the temperature is still hot and dry.

More interesting days here at Mother of Mercy Hospice- life's never boring here on the Great North Road (that never quite made it's intended Cape to Cairo)  As today is Saturday and there were no visits planned, it has been a domestic day of Mass, breakfast, laundry and gardening.  Loaned a 'small hoe' by the gate and grounds man, we have made small flower beds near the stoep of our house and planted Calla lily and African Marigold seed and transplanted a few ferns and Sansaveria (mother in law's tongue) from other borders.  Now the watering, always a challenge out of the rainy season; these little beds, less than a metre square, are near the kitchen door and so can be easily moistened with spare water, even from the washing up when cool.  Not sure the mint root I have acquired will survive the heat-maybe under other plants when they are established; this fragrant herb likes a damp shady environment but I see it coping under other plants.  Basil now, that would enjoy our hotter than Mediterranean climate- will look for seeds.

There's a fund-raising and celebratory braai (BBQ) in the Guardian Angels school next door; much singing and drumming which eventually has grown quiet- this is probably the eating part; we have paid for 2 chicken portions to be delivered later for our supper though we do also have a small bowl of the delicious local beans- similar to the red beans used in chilli dishes but these are pink and tender and tasty, cooked with a little onion by Rose, the hospice cook.  Add some chilli pepper and tomatoes, the braai chicken, a couple of flour tortillas and a cold beer and that's a good Saturday night feast.  We have also some ground(pea)nuts dry roasted over charcoal bought from near the bus stop, sold in tiny plastic bags for 1,000 kwacha each bag  (about 10p)

I walked down to Chilanga South to visit the ATM which allows customers to take out 2 million kwacha, about £250.  It seems safe: a bullet-proof perspex shield round the ATM and a couple of paramilitary security guards, often with rifles, sitting by the exit for protection.

Time to go and sort out those foodie delights!