Bye-bye Africa.

Once again I apologize for the lack of blogging. I am in the Heathrow Airport trying desperately not to cry. It is all I have been doing for the past 12 hours. I had a home and a family in Africa for the past two months and I was not ready to say goodbye. People in Africa are always saying that once you've been there it gets in your blood, I am now a prime example of that. I know that I have written about events that have happened there, but I don't think I have told you about the little things that happen daily that will make me miss this place the most.

The fact that you are greeted by a smile, a wave, and always a "Hello, how are you?" by everyone you come in contact with. Whether it be a stranger or someone you see everyday.

The hand shake. It's hard to explain without seeing it, but it's like everyone in Livingston has a secret handshake with each other.

The Children. (This is the biggest for me.)


The way that some of them chant "Mazungu!" over and over again as we drive by.

• The fact that they can be covered in dirt, in tattered clothing, shoeless, but still be the happiest children I have ever seen.




• The way they sing. Especially their version of the ABC's. They sing the whole song, but it's as if the person who taught it to them told them to stop at the end. They took it as part of the song so they actually yell "STOP!".




• The way the answer "yes." to everything, whether it be a yes or no question. EX: Me: "What did you learn in school today?" Kid: "Yes."




• The way they are obsessed with John Cena. It is so random that out of all the athletes in the world, they only know him. They will constantly do his trademark, hand in front of the face, move.

The way strait grown men hold hands walking down the street. Homosexuality is illegal in Zambia, but these men are just really good friends and want to hold hands.


The way you see monkeys, elephants, and giraffes while driving down the street as often as you would see stray cats in the US. And side note to this- the way people have to roll up their windows and lock their doors, not because they are afraid of a person stealing their car, but because monkeys steal EVERYTHING inside it!


The village markets. The fact you can find anything from vegetables to flip flops to tires, and everyone is ready to bargain for a good price. I also love how the people there call me "Sista from anotha motha"

The sunsets on the Zambezi.

The volunteers. There were three in particular that became my family and I know I will keep in touch with them forever.

The way everyone says "TIA!" (This is Africa). It can be used in any situation. The water goes off. -TIA The bus is late. -TIA You smell like BO -TIA You see elephants walking next to your car on the street -TIA

My attitude here (Which I plan on keeping when I get back.) Before I left I will admit I was a little high maitnance (just a little). There was a time where I refused to eat in a B or C restaurant, and I wouldn't stay in motels because I thought they were dirty.Well, I can honestly say that I am pretty much over all that.


I will love Africa forever, and miss everything about it. But I know I will be back there again very soon.


So, now for pictures. I apologize for the lack of them, but now that I am in England it will be easier to post them.

My House:

My African Family:

The Crazy Freaking Animals:

Rapid 7 and my most favorite car in the world (owned by one of my favorite people in Africa):

My Kids:

Maramba Farm (where some of the volunteering takes place):

Maramba Village Market:

Victoria Falls:

The Zambezi at Sunset:

My New Obsession

Sense I have been here, I have done many cool things. But none compare to what I did two weeks ago, and continue doing every Saturday... white water rafting on the Zambezi. I am obsessed, so obsessed in fact that I have gone twice and am planning on going at least two more times before I leave. The river is a grade 5 river, which means that it is really intense. I've done the whole Colorado River thing, but it doesn't even compare. The rapids have names such as: The Devil's Toilet Bowl, The Man Eater, and (the scariest) Mother. I have had three near death experiences, and I still cannot stop.

This is one of those blogs that can only be described through pictures. This one is Mother. Keep your eyes on the converse.

The Real Africa

Again I apologize for the back blogging.

A week and a half ago, I had my first face to face encounter with someone with HIV, and it was a horrifying experience. I was on my first day of medical home based care, which I was already nervous about. The most medical training I've had is my mom's stories from the ICU. Another volunteer and I headed out along with two women as interpreters, and our trusty medical bag. We arrived at the girl's house (which was basically a shack) and there she was sitting on a tarp in the yard. When I saw her, I almost started crying. She was about 5'9" and 85 pounds, max. She was literally skin and bones, except for her feet. They were so swollen, it looked like she was wearing combat boots with toes.

We sat down next to her and took out her chart (a notebook that is split into two columns: problem and action). The chart explained that she had TB, and that she had been having diarrhea. Under the action column it kept saying "told her to go to the clinic". I asked her if she had ever gone and she said no. When I asked her why, she told me she had no money, and was to weak to walk the 3 blocks. She also told me how hungry she was and that her mom gave her very little food, and would not give her a mosquito net. When I confronted the mom, she informed me that there was no money for food or mosquito nets. I gave the mom a bag of maize, which is basically like corn meal, but after that we didn't know what to do. So finally, I was like, "Fuck it, I am calling a cab and we will take her to the clinic ourselves". Obviously, she was never going to go and if the two of us went with her, she would probably get helped quicker.
The cab came, and it took both me and the other volunteer to get her up and into the car. The mom wanted to stay home, but we told her that she had to come or I would take the maize away. Now, I know that sounds harsh, but this woman did not seem concerned in the slightest that her daughter looked like she was going to die any minute. She didn't have any other children to take care of , and no one else was home. She just didn't want to go. Finally, she got into the cab and we left.

We arrived at the clinic and it was insanely crowded. Now when I use the word "clinic", I use it very loosely. There are no doctors, just nurses and a clinical advisor. There is dirt everywhere, cockroaches everywhere, and there was a faint smell of vomit. We found a nurse and told her we needed a clinical advisor. it took a few minutes, but we were finally aloud to see him. He ran a couple of tests on her and told us that not only did she have TB, but she was HIV Positive, and the swelling in her feet was a result of a malignant cancer. Basically, she was dying and that she had to go to the hospital so that they could make her more comfortable. I had to put my sun glasses on because I started crying.

They told us to put her into a bed until the ambulance arrived. Again, it took both me and the other volunteer to move her from the adviser's desk to the bed. When I pulled back the sheets to get her into the cot, I found a dirty scalpel blade lying right next to her feet. I seriously started gagging. I thought I was going to throw up right there next to the bed. We got rid of it, and got her situated in bed. We told the mother we were leaving, and to stay with her daughter. Se the told me that she did not want to wait anymore and that she was coming back with us. This is when I lost it. I started yelling at her, not caring if she could understand me or not. I told her that she was her mom and that she was responsible for her. That she couldn't just leave because she was tired and wanted to go home.

I finally got back to the house and had a severe melt down. Jamie and Gemma, my project managers comforted me, and told me that I did the right thing. Overall, it was a very tough day, but one where I think I made a difference. Not all days are like that though. Sometimes I go to the clinic and have a great time. I meet some really great people, and some adorable kids.

Check out this picture: