Living in Zambia

The day after I arrive is African Freedom day, a public holiday, but Richard and I get started discussing work anyway. He’s very nice, also a former consultant. We’ll be working with the National Malaria Control Center on a number of projects, including training district health staff on data management, studying the impact of Zambia’s malaria control program, and evaluating ways to improve health coverage through Community Health Workers (CHWs). Toko, one of the Zambian analysts working with us stops by to chat about work as well. Although for her, “stopping by” means taking two busses and walking over a mile. She’s a recent graduate from University of Zambia, Unza. Although Toko is technically part of the Harvard team, she’s being paid by the XXXX, with money from the World Bank. Zunda, our other analyst, is also part of the Harvard team, but being paid by Y NGO. That’s just a taste of the convoluted ways in which aid dollars pull the strings here in Zambia—more on that later.

Richard and Andrea are renting a lovely three bedroom house for about $700 a month. Bring that up to $800, and it includes a gardener, housekeeper 3 days a week, and security guard. Each of the last three persons make between $1 and $2 a day. The Zambian currency is the Kwatcha, and the conversion rate is about 5,000 Kwatcha to the dollar. As such, there are no coins, because all of their values have become laughingly trivial. Richard shows me a “100 trillion” note from Zimbabwe, Zambia’s much more beleaguered neighbor.

Most Zambians take baths, so when they moved in, there was no shower. They asked the owner, who built the house and takes great pride in it, to install one, and he did so by attaching a shower head to each the cold tap and the hot tap. So now we have one freezing shower head and one that is boiling hot. In the summer, the cold one might not be so bad, but given the freezing nights, I stick with baths. The house is also designed to keep cool, very practical for most of the year, but getting progressively more terrible as true Zambian winter approaches. Given the proximity to the equator, I assumed it would be hot year round. Not so at all! With no ocean nearby to hold the heat and little humidity during the dry season (April-Nov), coupled with high elevation, it’s going to get cold. Not cold like Chicago cold, but much colder than I imagined when I packed two swimsuits, shorts, sunblock, and zero jackets. I find it terrifically unfair that I’m going to experience two winters this year…

The staple food here is something called Shima, made from ground corn. It tastes like slightly overcooked grits, or perhaps polenta, and is served with every meal. On my fourth day at XXXX, I ask Zunda to take me over to the hospital cafeteria (next to the morgue!) so that I can get my first taste of Shima. The cafeteria is extremely cheap, and for about a dollar I get a big plate of Shima, a whole fried fish, and vegetables. Zunda tries to show me how to make balls of Shima with one hand and use them to pick up my food, but I’m not so talented. I embarrassedly ask for a fork.