Read This. It will only take about 2 seconds if you are a good reader...For real 2 seconds.
Then know that you are lucky and have so much to be thankful for.
We have grown literally afraid to be poor. We despise anyone who elects to be poor in order to simplify and save his inner life. If he does not join the general scramble and pant with the money-making street, we deem him spiritless and lacking in ambition. ~William James
October 28, 2010
Zam Gram
Being in a new culture almost always means a new language. Unless that culture change is leaving the Mid West and moving to the Big Apple...I did that once...we spoke the same language...English...but when it came to understanding what the hell they were saying I had not a clue. But that is another story. Right now I am talking about living in the Eastern Province of Zambia in Chewa Nation. Chewa or Nyanja (cimodzi modzi, if you keep reading you will soon understand the nonsense you just read!) is the language that is spoken here. There are a few selected words from this language and culture that are so stuck in my brain that the English equivalent no longer comes out of my mouth. This makes talking to people from America a little difficult. So I am taking this moment to update you all on some words that will hopefully be with me for the rest of my life.
DISCLAIMER: The Chewa part of these words will not probably be spelled correctly in Chewa...sad to say but I don't care enough to go through and look them all up, so if you are an Eastern Volunteer reading this...deal with it!
Atate: Father, or sir
Amai: Mother, aunt, it is a respectful way to refer to any woman older than yourself.
Iwe: Pronounced E-WAY this is the impolite way to say you. Most often it is the word that is yelled at the kids and myself by all of the adults in the entire country...not just Eastern. I have finally gotten brave enough to say this to the kids when I am mad at them for doing something..."Iwe....choka" "You, Stop" As it turns out saying iwe stops all children dead in their tracks as well as just about any PCV. It is a fun word. In PCZ when we as PCVs refer to "our kids" we say my iwe because if you came into the village knowing nothing about the language you would think that the word for child was iwe.
Chabe: Used to say only or just. For example...you are supposed to eat with your right hand chabe. Usually used at the end of a sentence for emphasis. It is an Eastern PCV favorite. I like it in my Village when asking for help..."I need you to do this...CHABE" So that the ladies won't get too carried away with their helpfulness which is something that Zambians in general have a tendency to do.
Pita: Go! Pitani is the polite way to say this...but this phrase often comes out of my mouth when I want the iwe to go away.
Tiyenda: Pronounced Tee-yen-duh It means lets go. Or Tien for short.
Sweetie: This is what they call candy in this country. A phrase I hear everyday in the village without fail is "Ndifuna ma sweetie" "I want a sweetie." PCV use sweeties as bargaining material with the iwe to get things done...like having one of them go and get your water for you on that particular day. It is payment. And after the sweetie is gone they will suck on the plastic that it came in to get every last bit of sugar from their beloved sweetie.
Madzi: Water. Used in a sentence it would go something like this. "Mufuna kutapa madzi? Ndipatsa ma sweetie pamene mubwera? Do you want to get water? I will give you a sweetie when you come back."
Bwanji: Means how. Often used as a general means of greeting. Sort of like hows it going? Muli Bwanji if you have never met before or it is a more formal event means "How Are You?"
N'gombe: Cow
Nyumba: House or in my case Hut
Boza: Lie or liar. One of my favorite Chewa words to throw around. The villagers love it. When I don't believe what they are telling me I just yell BOZA!
Manjae Manjae: Pronounced Mon-jay. It means soon soon. "Ndibwera manjae manjae" I will come soon soon. Never said just soon. Always double.
Samba: Bath or bathing
Muzungu: Most generally this means white person...but could be extended to rich person and you can even say it to your boss. I hear this yelled at me often...just incase I forgot that I was white.
Ndalama: Money.
Kulibe: Ku-Lee-Bay. Means there is nothing or to be without. Often said while taking one arm and putting it between chest and waist level, cupping your hand and moving it back and forth as if you have dice in your hand to signify nothing.
Cimodzi-modzi: Pronounced Chi-modzi modzi. It means the same...to be the same. What is the difference between that and that? Cimodzi-modzi.
Of course these are just a few. But I thought it might fun to let you all know what I am talking about sometimes. Because the longer times goes on here the more these words are going to leak into my spoken and written word vocab.
"Words should be used as tools for communication not a subsitiute for action. -Unknown"
DISCLAIMER: The Chewa part of these words will not probably be spelled correctly in Chewa...sad to say but I don't care enough to go through and look them all up, so if you are an Eastern Volunteer reading this...deal with it!
Atate: Father, or sir
Amai: Mother, aunt, it is a respectful way to refer to any woman older than yourself.
Iwe: Pronounced E-WAY this is the impolite way to say you. Most often it is the word that is yelled at the kids and myself by all of the adults in the entire country...not just Eastern. I have finally gotten brave enough to say this to the kids when I am mad at them for doing something..."Iwe....choka" "You, Stop" As it turns out saying iwe stops all children dead in their tracks as well as just about any PCV. It is a fun word. In PCZ when we as PCVs refer to "our kids" we say my iwe because if you came into the village knowing nothing about the language you would think that the word for child was iwe.
Chabe: Used to say only or just. For example...you are supposed to eat with your right hand chabe. Usually used at the end of a sentence for emphasis. It is an Eastern PCV favorite. I like it in my Village when asking for help..."I need you to do this...CHABE" So that the ladies won't get too carried away with their helpfulness which is something that Zambians in general have a tendency to do.
Pita: Go! Pitani is the polite way to say this...but this phrase often comes out of my mouth when I want the iwe to go away.
Tiyenda: Pronounced Tee-yen-duh It means lets go. Or Tien for short.
Sweetie: This is what they call candy in this country. A phrase I hear everyday in the village without fail is "Ndifuna ma sweetie" "I want a sweetie." PCV use sweeties as bargaining material with the iwe to get things done...like having one of them go and get your water for you on that particular day. It is payment. And after the sweetie is gone they will suck on the plastic that it came in to get every last bit of sugar from their beloved sweetie.
Madzi: Water. Used in a sentence it would go something like this. "Mufuna kutapa madzi? Ndipatsa ma sweetie pamene mubwera? Do you want to get water? I will give you a sweetie when you come back."
Bwanji: Means how. Often used as a general means of greeting. Sort of like hows it going? Muli Bwanji if you have never met before or it is a more formal event means "How Are You?"
N'gombe: Cow
Nyumba: House or in my case Hut
Boza: Lie or liar. One of my favorite Chewa words to throw around. The villagers love it. When I don't believe what they are telling me I just yell BOZA!
Manjae Manjae: Pronounced Mon-jay. It means soon soon. "Ndibwera manjae manjae" I will come soon soon. Never said just soon. Always double.
Samba: Bath or bathing
Muzungu: Most generally this means white person...but could be extended to rich person and you can even say it to your boss. I hear this yelled at me often...just incase I forgot that I was white.
Ndalama: Money.
Kulibe: Ku-Lee-Bay. Means there is nothing or to be without. Often said while taking one arm and putting it between chest and waist level, cupping your hand and moving it back and forth as if you have dice in your hand to signify nothing.
Cimodzi-modzi: Pronounced Chi-modzi modzi. It means the same...to be the same. What is the difference between that and that? Cimodzi-modzi.
Of course these are just a few. But I thought it might fun to let you all know what I am talking about sometimes. Because the longer times goes on here the more these words are going to leak into my spoken and written word vocab.
"Words should be used as tools for communication not a subsitiute for action. -Unknown"
Do Yours Hang Low? Do They Wobble To and Fro? Do They Smack Your Partner in the Face During Sex?
Before I get into the actual story of the post I feel like I need to give you, the reader, a little background information. In past posts I have mentioned how I hate boobs in this country. Yes boobs. This hatred has led me to take such good care of my own two lady lumps. They get placed into a snug sports bra every day as soon as I wake up. This sports bras only job is to keep the girls up. Up where they belong...up is where I always thought boobs should be...until I got into this country. It is when I got into this country and into the village that I learned, rather quickly I might add, that this train of thought is in the minority. Boobs in this country are exhausting to me...on any sort of estrogen excreting thing...goats, cows, pigs humans. If it could check the "female box" on any sort of questionnaire then their boobs make me tired and sad.
In the animal world mommas meander along while their not so young "young" follow along beside or behind them tripping their mothers while head butting their tits, boobs, breasts, nipples, what ever you want to call them just to get a dribble of milk...and it appears to me that it is only to get a little drink. Their kids are never that committed to needing milk...they just get a little drink and then are off playing again, If you are going to head butt my tits for reasons unknown you better be damn thirsty to make it worth my time.
Where the actual humans are concerned...we have opposable thumbs so the kids can get a little more carried away here. Children here reach into their mothers shirt and pull out the saggy tit and begin sucking away while the moms seem to be totally ignorant to the fact that their privacy has been so much more than invaded. Or the moms will contort their body in some karma sutra impossible yoga position stance so that their milk wanting child doesn't have to move from to get what they want. They will squat down with their boob hanging out while their kid lays on the ground and whines because he/she wants milk but does not want to be picked up or moved. God forbid I inconvenience you, child, to let you suck on my tit. Damn kids...birth control has never been stronger.
Furthermore, boobs here on these women were never meant to be perky. No matter the size of said tit , they sprout out sagging. It is sad really...at the age of 15 these girls already have saggy boobs. Perhaps it is just the Zambian way?
So...now back to the story....
Well it started out like any other village day between the hours of 16:00 and 17:something. I sweep out my insaka (a gazebo like structure) and roll out my reed mat and begin my little exercise routine. This workout has been implemented into my village life as a way to maintain my sanity when busy months keep me from seeing other volunteers...It isn't much, pushups here, squats there and a few other odds and ends I found on womenshealthmag.com. It is about this time that my crazy neighbor comes over...yup, they exist even in villages in Africa. I love this woman with all of my heart. Her name is Patricia, I have written about her before, she is the lady who forced my bike wreck mangled arm straight at a time when it really preferred to be bent at a comfortable 90 degrees.
So Patricia is coming over to return the clothes pins that she borrowed earlier in the day (Clothes pins are a hot commodity here on laundry day...mine get borrowed often since I am the only person in the village with them). Of course because Patricia is the walking definition of a nosy neighbor she picks up my pages that the workouts are printed on. You know the ones, white girls in tiny shorts and sports bras, rocking the body that every suggested exercise rep reminds you you'll never have.
More background information, in Zambia, though tits are totally fair game and can been whipped out for the world to see at any sort of social function and it is not offensive to anyone but me...though I am pretty desensitized at this point in my PC service. Any part of your leg above the knee is pretty much a straight ticket to whoreville as far as they are concerned. Knees are naughty and the thighs that this white girl workout queen is sporting is enough to send Patricia into a panic attack.
So as Patricia is looking at this picture she asks me, for the millionth time in our short little relationship if American women can show their legs. Patricia speaks zero english so she has been vital to my language learning. I credit a big portion of my Nyanja comprehension to her. She is insistent on talking to me (because she is a nosy neighbor) and she is even more insistent on being understood and she will not stop until we are both sure that we are on the same page. The following is a roughly translated conversation that will forever be famous in my PC memories. Enjoy!
P: "So women in the America can show their legs?"
M: "Yup! No problems will happen if you show your legs."
P: "Humph! Not Zambia. If you show above here (pointing to just below her knees) HULE! (whore) No no, not bare. If you are bare it means that you want many men. You must wear chitenge then it is okay."
M: "I know."
P: "And the bra. It looks very nice. Very nice." Then while grabbing her own D cups down around her waist she pulls them up to a more perky place and says, "You want them so"
M" The giggling has started now
P: "Good, very good" She says as she looks longingly at the breasts of someone who, in Patricia's defense, never breast fed 6 children for 24 months a pop. That is 12 years of her life! Those boobs never stood a chance. And then again, "They look so good."
M: More giggling.
P: My giggling pulls her out of her busty trance. "Maggie don't laugh at me." She says laughing at me. :In America everyone wears these to keep them here?" As she again wrangles the girls up.
M: "Maybe" This is what I say because my language isn't good enough to explain hippies and not bra loving ladies.
P: "Yours are so good!" She says looking directly at my boobs.
M: The laughing is pretty out of control at this point.
P: "They look so nice, and they stay here." She says as again she pulls them up. "And I bet when your having sex with someone because they don't hit them in the face during sex. Not so?" Implying that because my boobs are in a sports bra every day when I take it off they are not so saggy that they could be classified as a weapon during intercourse. She then takes one of her own and swings it around showing me how hers hit her husband in the face during what Cosmo would call "girl on top."
M: I duck for cover and then die laughing.
So, there you have it folks. Wear a bra because apparently being hit in the face with a saggy tit during sex is not sexy. Ladies, if you are interested in doing some volunteer service work pack up all your old over the shoulder bolder holders and ship them my way. I got a village full of Saggy Sallies longing to be Perky Patricias.
Written in October in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month. If shipping your old bras seems a bit odd (WHICH IT SHOULD) you could do a different kind of good deed! Donate Now!
In the animal world mommas meander along while their not so young "young" follow along beside or behind them tripping their mothers while head butting their tits, boobs, breasts, nipples, what ever you want to call them just to get a dribble of milk...and it appears to me that it is only to get a little drink. Their kids are never that committed to needing milk...they just get a little drink and then are off playing again, If you are going to head butt my tits for reasons unknown you better be damn thirsty to make it worth my time.
Where the actual humans are concerned...we have opposable thumbs so the kids can get a little more carried away here. Children here reach into their mothers shirt and pull out the saggy tit and begin sucking away while the moms seem to be totally ignorant to the fact that their privacy has been so much more than invaded. Or the moms will contort their body in some karma sutra impossible yoga position stance so that their milk wanting child doesn't have to move from to get what they want. They will squat down with their boob hanging out while their kid lays on the ground and whines because he/she wants milk but does not want to be picked up or moved. God forbid I inconvenience you, child, to let you suck on my tit. Damn kids...birth control has never been stronger.
Furthermore, boobs here on these women were never meant to be perky. No matter the size of said tit , they sprout out sagging. It is sad really...at the age of 15 these girls already have saggy boobs. Perhaps it is just the Zambian way?
So...now back to the story....
Well it started out like any other village day between the hours of 16:00 and 17:something. I sweep out my insaka (a gazebo like structure) and roll out my reed mat and begin my little exercise routine. This workout has been implemented into my village life as a way to maintain my sanity when busy months keep me from seeing other volunteers...It isn't much, pushups here, squats there and a few other odds and ends I found on womenshealthmag.com. It is about this time that my crazy neighbor comes over...yup, they exist even in villages in Africa. I love this woman with all of my heart. Her name is Patricia, I have written about her before, she is the lady who forced my bike wreck mangled arm straight at a time when it really preferred to be bent at a comfortable 90 degrees.
So Patricia is coming over to return the clothes pins that she borrowed earlier in the day (Clothes pins are a hot commodity here on laundry day...mine get borrowed often since I am the only person in the village with them). Of course because Patricia is the walking definition of a nosy neighbor she picks up my pages that the workouts are printed on. You know the ones, white girls in tiny shorts and sports bras, rocking the body that every suggested exercise rep reminds you you'll never have.
More background information, in Zambia, though tits are totally fair game and can been whipped out for the world to see at any sort of social function and it is not offensive to anyone but me...though I am pretty desensitized at this point in my PC service. Any part of your leg above the knee is pretty much a straight ticket to whoreville as far as they are concerned. Knees are naughty and the thighs that this white girl workout queen is sporting is enough to send Patricia into a panic attack.
So as Patricia is looking at this picture she asks me, for the millionth time in our short little relationship if American women can show their legs. Patricia speaks zero english so she has been vital to my language learning. I credit a big portion of my Nyanja comprehension to her. She is insistent on talking to me (because she is a nosy neighbor) and she is even more insistent on being understood and she will not stop until we are both sure that we are on the same page. The following is a roughly translated conversation that will forever be famous in my PC memories. Enjoy!
P: "So women in the America can show their legs?"
M: "Yup! No problems will happen if you show your legs."
P: "Humph! Not Zambia. If you show above here (pointing to just below her knees) HULE! (whore) No no, not bare. If you are bare it means that you want many men. You must wear chitenge then it is okay."
M: "I know."
P: "And the bra. It looks very nice. Very nice." Then while grabbing her own D cups down around her waist she pulls them up to a more perky place and says, "You want them so"
M" The giggling has started now
P: "Good, very good" She says as she looks longingly at the breasts of someone who, in Patricia's defense, never breast fed 6 children for 24 months a pop. That is 12 years of her life! Those boobs never stood a chance. And then again, "They look so good."
M: More giggling.
P: My giggling pulls her out of her busty trance. "Maggie don't laugh at me." She says laughing at me. :In America everyone wears these to keep them here?" As she again wrangles the girls up.
M: "Maybe" This is what I say because my language isn't good enough to explain hippies and not bra loving ladies.
P: "Yours are so good!" She says looking directly at my boobs.
M: The laughing is pretty out of control at this point.
P: "They look so nice, and they stay here." She says as again she pulls them up. "And I bet when your having sex with someone because they don't hit them in the face during sex. Not so?" Implying that because my boobs are in a sports bra every day when I take it off they are not so saggy that they could be classified as a weapon during intercourse. She then takes one of her own and swings it around showing me how hers hit her husband in the face during what Cosmo would call "girl on top."
M: I duck for cover and then die laughing.
So, there you have it folks. Wear a bra because apparently being hit in the face with a saggy tit during sex is not sexy. Ladies, if you are interested in doing some volunteer service work pack up all your old over the shoulder bolder holders and ship them my way. I got a village full of Saggy Sallies longing to be Perky Patricias.
Written in October in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month. If shipping your old bras seems a bit odd (WHICH IT SHOULD) you could do a different kind of good deed! Donate Now!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
