Whitney And The Chief

On Saturday, or Friday, or whenever it was (news here in Zambia is slow in traveling) my favorite singer was taken from all of us on Earth... Whitney.  For those of you that don't know, I am a huge Whitney Houston fan.  I love all her hits, such as How Will I Know and I Wanna Dance With Somebody.  I'm bummed to say the least, but the thing that worries me the most is that I feel somehow responsible.  In 2009, when I went to Kenya Michael Jackson died.  I come to Zambia one week ago and Whitney dies.  I plan on traveling to a lot of other countries while I'm here and I'm worried to find out what other celebs may meet their demise.

I Miss Her More Than Words Can Describe

I just finished my site visit in Chipata, Zambia, and I really enjoyed it.  We took some tours of projects like what I'll be working on (forestry and agricultural) with a volunteer that is serving there, and I liked what I saw.  There is some really interesting work being done by the community, as well as the volunteer.  It made me really excited to get started on the training and then having a site of my own.

While on site visit and had a couple of firsts... fetching my own water, killing a chicken by slitting its throat with a knife that severely needed a good sharpening, washing my clothes by hand (I've done this before, but this time I was trying to get out blood from the chicken, not just dirt).  It was interesting to get out of my comfort zone and really live the way the rest of the world does - no lights, water, or packaged meat. 

However, the most interesting thing that happened is that three separate villagers referred to me as "chief."  Both because of my continually growing beard and my sizable mid-section.  If only I wasn't a pale-faced mzungu (a white person) I could become a proper chief.  It is this type of experience that really reaffirms that I truly am back in Africa.  Well that and the cows and goats that are wondering all over the place.