Town Day

*I don't normally post chronologies, because I don't want to be long and boring. However, I thought a few readers might like to hear specifics from a town day. Normally, Heather and I save up our errands and spend Wednesday mornings in Choma town. Last week, Heather was out in the field for work, so I did a solo town day Thursday. Following is a detailed narrative. Sorry for the delay in posting; I was trying to come up with a good picture to go with all these words! I did not take my camera along to document the stops. For those who don't care for narratives, please come back soon for more picture posts.*

I tried to load a google map to share.. but that didn't work, so I tried to make my own...
It's not to scale and doesn't have good detail or accuracy, but it shows some of the places I mention in the narrative.
There are shops and stands everywhere; I couldn't draw them all :)

Today was Town Day 

(written Thursday, 26 September)

Here’s how I spent 5.5 hours of my errand day:

First stop: the bank. Queues are minimal first thing in the morning. Waited in queue for approximately 10 minutes. Greeted several of the bank staff. Made two transfers (one to a hospital, one to a Bible school).

Post Office… exciting (unusual) day with a handful of letters in our box! Proceeded inside to pay two Zesco (electricity) accounts. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the proper account number for one account. Called Heather and she was able to sms me the number. Went back inside to pay, but the Zesco fellow was out. Waited for approximately 15 minutes (devoured my letters in the meantime!) and then left.

Walked to NAPSA (National Pension Scheme Authority) to make monthly payment for employees. Arrived just as the cashier was walking in. Within 10 minutes, I was back outside with the stamped receipt and answers to my two most recent employer questions.

Back at the post office the Zesco man had returned. Bought electricity units for the second account.

Stopped in front of bank to buy K10 talk time ($2 of airtime) for my cell (from a talk time street vender).

Withdrew cash at the ATM outside the bank.

Continued walking into town to rendezvous with my neighbor. We met at a veggie stand along the main sidewalk and I walked back to their vehicle to catch a ride to the market.

Back in the market we wandered around all the “shoe marts” (stands piled with second-hand, er, worn out shoes shipped to this continent in mass quantities by the Western world) looking for sneakers. My friend found a nice pair of Sketchers and a pair of play shoes for her son. I didn’t find any sneakers, but came home 40 Kwacha ($8) poorer because I bought a pair of lace up shoes for cold season. When I moved here I brought only one pair of tie shoes and one pair of flats that have both long since worn out. During cold season, I had no “nice” shoes to wear… Anyway. These will be tucked away in my closet ready for next cold season.

We walked a few metres down the way and bought tomatoes and dry beans. Several women tried talking to me in Tonga and Nyanja. They laughed hysterically when they chattered on in vernacular and realized I was clueless of their conversation details… they could say I was young and beautiful or that I was ugly and fat and I would just stand there and smile and apologize. Oh well… so goes life.

When we got back to the vehicle, we drove back out to the main route of town and stopped to buy petrol (full service filling station- they all are here) and a mop from a mop and broom salesman wandering the street. On our way to Wonderbake, we noticed a huge egg delivery (from a nearby military base) at a small shop on the way. We stopped and each bought a tray of eggs (22).

It was a hot day, so we were looking for some cool refreshment at Wonderbake. I decided I’d splurge on an Apple Max (carbonated apple juice), but they were out. Instead I settled for a bottle of water and… a little cup of ice cream!

After our breather break, we parted ways. I went left to the veggie barn next door (the Green Market, not to be confused with the Green Shops—which is a second had clothes store also in town!) where I purchased a bag of carrots and a bag of baby eggplant (total cost about $1.60)… I don’t know what to do with eggplant, and I don’t particularly like it, but it looked good, and I figure it’ll be nice for variety (any fave eggplant recipes, please share!).

Next I walked around the “block” (it’s not a block, but I don’t know how to describe it in American terms) to the main street and walked up to the LG store. I was hot pot (electric tea kettle) shopping. This is one item that Choma has way, way, way more variety than any place in the States would have—and the prices are better too! Life without a hot pot here is not life at all.

I thought the sales guy might come and explain to me the differences between the 3 brands and 8 or 10 models on the shelves. He didn’t.

Next stop was Spar where I picked up most of what was on our weekly shopping list. Items included sliced bread, honey, avocados, snap peas, and tomato puree. When I took the veggies to be weighed, the fellow greeted me warmly and said he’d missed seeing me lately. Makes a heart feel good to know I’m missed and appreciated! Not much beats friendly service at the grocery store.

As soon as I reached the Spar exit, three taxi drivers held up their keys and asked if I wanted a taxi. No thanks (the answer never changes… I think they’d remember me by now. The people inside do...). I crossed the road and stepped into DeeBee’s (an Indian shop that sells everything) to buy talk time and check out their hot pot selection. I spotted the same hot pot model we had previously and asked to see it. Unfortunately, the floor model was the last hot pot of that type, and it was broken.

Outside I bought nartjies (like clementines) from a street vender. He wanted to sell me bananas as well, but I wasn’t going to buy them without seeing them. My bags were heavy, so I started walking to the vehicle on the other side of town and told him he’d find me “that side” (common phrase here meaning “there”).

I turned down all taxi offers and was quite ready to be rid of my bags by the time I reached the truck (outside the bank). At the filling station nearest the bank, I waved to our carpenter friend who was cycling past. From the shade of the bank I called my friend who had been sick and in hospital over the weekend. I wanted to stop by to visit her.

I walked to her house (5-7minutes), and felt bad that I had forgotten to buy her something at Spar. Earlier I thought it would be good to take her some juice, scones or chocolate… but I forgot all of that when I was at Spar.

Anyway. She met me just outside her house and led me into her sitting room, where I met a cousin and a teacher friend who were also visiting her. Her young sister, who was preparing lunch, greeted me as well.

I forgot it was almost lunch time, so I tried to leave before the meal was served, but she and her sister insisted I stay and eat with them. “You don’t want to eat nshima?” they asked, sounding a bit offended. I was happy to have nshima, though I felt bad eating her food. “No, no, no. It’s more important we be together,” she insisted. So I stayed for lunch. It was my first time to eat kapenta (tiny dried fish, very popular here), and I enjoyed it (many non-Zambians really don’t like kapenta). Her sister was more than pleased to see I enjoyed lunch.

After a while my friend escorted me back to town. I headed back to the LG store. On the way I ducked into another Indian shop to check out their hot pot selection. I wasn’t interested in any of the hot pot models they had. Another item on my list of things to buy was some plain fabric. I spotted a roll in the back of the shop and asked for two metres. It wasn’t great fabric, but, hey, I think it will work for what we need.

Between the shop where I bought the fabric and the LG store, I met up with my fruit vender “friend” (hah.) again who had a huge bag of bananas waiting for me. I felt obligated to buy from him… and in a hurry paid more than I would normally. He should be a happy camper, but somehow I’m pretty sure he’ll find me again next time I’m in town and hound me for more sales, though we very rarely purchase from him. Oh well.

I crossed the road and made my way straight to the hot pot selection at the LG store. The fellow who greeted me earlier was happy to see I had returned. Of course the model I finally selected wasn’t in stock, so he sold me the floor model. First he took it to the back room and filled it with water to ensure it worked properly.

The store was out of “plastics” so I left with the box tucked under my arm, also carrying my bananas and fabric (in plastics). I had barely crossed the road and headed back toward the vehicle at the bank when I noticed our mission vehicle from Macha (which I am in charge of maintaining) parked across the road at the filling station. I rushed over to collect some mileage information for my office and to deliver the insurance paper for October 2013-September 2014 to the glove box.

Soon I was once again on my way to the vehicle back at the bank. I was almost to cross the street when a fellow riding past on a bicycle started chatting with me. It took me a bit to place him, but eventually I recognized him from the immigration office. He had some documents at his office for me, and… I was actually just heading to immigration on my way out of town!

Back at the vehicle, I unloaded all my goods and set off for immigration. Surprise of surprises, our official work documents finally arrived! (we applied in August 2012 and they were approved in November 2012; we’ve been waiting for them since). I asked for copies of a form I needed in my office (the original reason I needed to stop at immigration), and left for home.

Once I was home I brought everything inside, put it all away, and tried the new hot pot, which worked perfectly! It was a really sunny day, so I drank about 3 glasses of iced tea to cool off and hydrate.

That, my friends, was the tale of my morning in town. The errands change a bit, but all-in-all this was an average day in town. It was also a very successful day in town. Sometimes there’s no mail, the NAPSA guy isn’t in, the bank queue is too long (or maybe 2 hours long! No exaggeration.), Spar is out of 3 of the 6 items on our list, none of the veggies on the street look fresh, no one seems to have the spare part we’re hunting for, etc. etc. etc. 

You just never know :).