Muli Shani!

I know this update is a bit overdue – things have been crazily busy here – but I’ve finally found some time to sit down and write this post properly. Apologies for the lack of photos in today’s post, you’ll just have to rely on my powers of description! I’ll try and add some photos in at a later date.

It’s been nearly six weeks since I arrived in Kitwe. The bus journey from Lusaka has almost faded to a distant memory and I’m definitely feeling much more settled here.

To give you some background, Kitwe is the second biggest city in Zambia. It’s located in the northern-central area of Kitwe, in the Copperbelt region. The region is so-named because of the copper mining that dominates the area. As a result, Kitwe is a very industrial city with all the associated smog, dirt and smells (the smell is one thing I don’t think I’ll ever get used to. It’s awful!). Interestingly, Kitwe is twinned with Sheffield, another traditionally industrial city and actually where my Mum’s side of the family come from (thanks Mum for that particular nugget of information!).

A city of contrasts

Life in Kitwe is a bit of dichotomy: it’s chaotic and frenetic but somehow slow at the same time (sometimes painfully slow!). It’s an interesting mix, but one that I’ve got used to.

The streets of Kitwe town are bustling, full of street vendors selling all manner of things. From live chickens to fried caterpillars, t-shirts to mobile phones – people sell everything and anything they can get their hands on. Entrepreneurship is everywhere – the informal economy here thrives on it – and people work hard to make a living. At the same time customer service is dire (yup, it’s even worse than the UK – hard to believe I know!). You can wait up to 40 minutes in some restaurants before your order is even taken and heaven forbid you’re in a rush when you go to a cashier in Shoprite (a major supermarket chain here)….

Everywhere you go in town you’re hassled by people trying to sell you things (one guy repeatedly tried to sell me packs of toothbrushes for a full hour when I was sat waiting for a bus to leave…annoying, but I admire his persistence!) and ‘call-boys’ trying to get you to take their bus or taxi (they’re called ‘call-boys’ because they quite literally spend all day ‘calling’ out to people). The buses, ah the buses. The buses are quite an experience. They are essentially small mini-vans and people carriers that have been on the road for too long and are all but falling apart. They make for fun journeys!

A rather hot journey….

On one of my first commutes to work, the floor beneath my feet started smoking and soon the bus was filled with a fog of acrid smoke. Just a tad unsettling. After a few minutes, I alerted the call-boy and the driver pulled over. He proceeded  to lift the floor panel up, exposing something that looked a lot like part of the engine (excuse my ignorance here, I know nothing at all about car mechanics!), pulled a spanner and a hammer out of his pocket and started bashing things. Sparks were soon flying and before we knew it, flames had started shooting up. Needless to say, we all hastily exited the bus and I continued my commute on foot.

I walk a lot, much to the amusement (and bemusement!) of many Zambians. Most white people here drive, so seeing a Mzungu (the term used for white people here) walking along in the heat of the day results in lots of stares and comments. My Zambian counterpart, Cecilia, is amazed at the speed at which I walk (anyone who’s ever been taken on a route-march by me will know exactly how she feels! Haha!). Zambian’s have one speed when walking: slow. It makes sense given the heat – it regularly hits 37 degrees at the moment – but combined with ‘Zambian time’ generally, means that pretty much everyone is late to pretty much everything.

Getting used to Zambian time has definitely been one of my biggest frustrations here. If you set a meeting for 9am you need to understand that the other attendees probably won’t arrive until at least 10am. It drives me nuts. And while I’ll never be able to shake the habit of being on time or early, I am adapting.

It’s hot, dusty and smelly, but Kitwe is a fascinating place to live.

Thanks for reading! Til’ next time.

Abs xo