One Singaporean. Two Ukrainians. Three Bicycles.

I had the luck of meeting two crazy Ukrainian cyclists in Livingstone who cycled from Nairobi (Kenya) to Johannesburg (South Africa). They were journalists writing for National Geographic Ukraine and other adventure/travel publications that targeted Eastern Europe and Western Russia.

My zeal for cycling and eagerness to help them awarded me the designation of “Livingstone Tour Guide” for a week. Sasha and Ievgen’s knowledge of English was elementary at best and my Russian and Ukrainian language skills are non-existent. Regardless, they found it easier to communicate to me and I “translate” their intentions to the locals more effective than their broken English attempts confusing Zambians. Every culture has different interpretations and use of English; Zambians, as hospitable as they are, still confuse the heck out of tourists with English idiosyncrasies. Being here for five months has made Kate and I sensitive to this, and thus, perfect translators of Ukrainian accented and broken English into Zambian idiosyncratic English.



So, armed with local knowledge, Ukrainians in tow, and their official journalistic credentials in our saddlebags, we pedaled to the major tourist attractions and enjoyed them either free, or at resident rates. We rode everywhere (about 25 miles a day) on tarred, dirt and sandy roads so bad we had to push our bikes. We saw crocodiles, a (shot) dead elephant, Victoria Falls, Bungee Jumping, Gorge Swing, the official Livingstone Baobab tree, and the local villages.

They introduced Kate and I to Ukrainian drinking practices that involved beer and alcohol (ethanol, i.e. rubbing alcohol). We politely drank it hoping a tidal buzz would follow. The only thing that came was a queasy stomach and early rest. Note to self: ride bikes with Ukrainians, but don’t drink with them.

The week with the Ukrainians left me tired. Not just from all our riding, but our language differences and the subsequent “translations” to the Zambians. But a lesson was reinforced: a common interest, willingness to “listen” to hand, body, face signals and linguistic tones will overcome any language obstacles.

Now, if I could only understand the wife.

Listen to your Mother. Do your Chores. Be Happy.

Observations while living in a rural African Christian middleclass home.

Rats never fail to scuttle above us in the ceiling panels around 5:30am, a diligent wake-up call for Mrs. Ngandu to bathe, and get ready for the day. A Christian CD is slid into the music player. The teenage boys and girls rise to divide and conquer: bathroom cleaning, furniture dusting, floor scrubbing and wax polishing, they check if the doilies on the couches need replacing. One member will sweep the dirt outside around the house – to make sure the loose soil is not blown in or trafficked into the house by visiting soles.

Dishes from the previous night are cleaned since water rationing limits usage to 5-9am then 12-2pm and 5-9pm. Every spare pail and the bath tub is religiously filled at all times. We know when the water is cut when the sole leaky sink faucet stops shedding tears. Laundry is washed daily. Each piece scrubbed viciously in a shallow 12 inch diameter pail for about five minutes then hung on a taut wire clothesline.

Finally, breakfast is made; the boys bake scones and heat water for tea on the single-working burner stove. All these activities occur with Afro-Christian music’s bass shaking every bone in the body. The chores conclude around 10am. The music continues to celebrate the relaxation period till the three teens must leave for school at 12:30 and return at 5pm. They fill their free time making slingshots, reading books or dog-eared magazines circulating the neighborhood, dancing, chatting at the neighbors, or watching one of the three available channels on Zambian Broadcasting Network.

The teens’ return from school is celebrated with a game of basketball or soccer with community members till its time to help Mrs. Ngandu with the days final meal at 7pm. The last supper is eaten at 8pm and the dishes are soaked in pails overnight till water is available the next morning. The evening is finally complete when Boyzone or Backstreetboys are welcomed into the livingroom via video CD to serenade the gushing Zambian fans before they retire.

Daily chores and activities occur like a Swiss timepiece. The children obey their mother with military precision, coated with love and respect. Enjoyment during the day is honest, creative, and true. There is peace in the Ngandu Christian house. Problems and “wants” are always kept in perspective. And everyone is always happy.

This is God’s Zambia.

In the Office

So, you are sitting in the office on a Friday or Monday morning, having ploughed through the first onslaught of “crises” and “issues”. Now that they are averted or solved, you turn to the distracting de Luna blog update… only to be taken back to the office- well, our office.

To give you some idea of what we do in the village, we figured we’d upload so recent photos from villages in the southern province of Zambia.



During the day, I meet with various old men and women to document their languages (languages that are already disappearing). I focus on various cultural activities- subsistence farming and herding, hunting, fishing, pottery-making, divination, witchcraft, and local medicines.

Meanwhile, Sean is often invited to help out with such activities. In Chitongo, along the road from Choma to Namwala (for those of you with a really good map), Sean helped to make a traditional butale (grain-bin) by stripping bark by hand from fiber trees (also used in making rope, nets, and traps). The small trees were then placed upright in a circle, tied together with the bark fibers and then plastered to form the walls of the butale.



When he is not busy with local chores, Sean is biking around the local villages doing an ethnography of cycling in Africa (more in this in an upcoming entry in Sean’s Journal).

Another part of my research is to document local medicines and how they are used. So, in each village we do a “bush walk” where we walk around identifying, photographing and describing wild fruits and medicines. So although we are exposing ourselves to many potential deadly snake bites, we’re also accumulating a lot of knowledge about how to treat them. In fact, after a few short months I am already out-girl-scouting most of my research assistants and am teaching local doctors in villages new uses for familiar plants. Pretty cool.

When we work in the village, we live like they do. So, we eat shima- a local food of the African savanna areas that goes by many names: ugali in East Africa, papa in Botswana, etc. With shima, one eats something called “relish” but this only makes sense if you know what shima is. Shima is made of ground up maize (fairly tasteless, hard, dry corn), which is then cooked with water in much the same way as Cream of Wheat. And then they cook it some more- so much more, in fact, that it becomes a kind of stiff, tasteless lump that is broken up and shared. So, the relish is for taste- which is completely lacking in shima. Relish can be dried fish but usually people are too poor to buy fish and don’t have that much extra time to fish in the local streams unless they have extra children to spare from the fields. So, instead, they eat veggies. Veggies here are greens and only greens- not tomatoes, not squash (although they do eat some squash and pumpkin boiled but not at relish). So, for greens, there are the leaves of the plants in the garden (pumpkin leaves and bean leaves being the most common) and weeds in the bush and the garden. That is to say, in the village, we eat hard gruel and weeds…. without any seasoning or variety…. morning, noon, and night. We have wised up a little, and secretly eat cereal and long-life milk or sometimes buy rice and beans.

We also shower like the villagers- this involves a small bucket of water (2 gallons?) that you splash on yourself. Then you use soap and then you rinse. Hair washing is rare (Africans don’t really need to) so we have documented it with photographs for your viewing pleasure.

Then, after a few weeks, we return to town and do archival work (JESUIT ARCHIVE PIC BLW) and relax… unless the backpacker place we are currently inhabiting is also the home-away-from-home of the Swedish Bikini Team. Sorry boys, no photos of this one!


Pictures Sean documents while we are at the Jesuit Archives

A Dream for Botswana

Below is a copy of the address of one of the secondary school students who won the US Embassy essay competition honoring Martin Luther King Day in Gaborone, Botswana. Winners were chosen for their essay’s originality and were awarded certificates, a book about Martin Luther King and about USD 100. As you read Benson’s dreams for his country, keep in mind that Botswana is one of the wealthiest African countries with an economy considered a safer investment than even that of South Africa.


A Dream for Botswana
Benson Serara Motswetla, age 17

Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream. Today I have a dream for my country, Botswana. A dream that I will wake up tomorrow and there will be not AIDS for even as I write this severely dreaded acronym, agony strikes my face. I have a dream that Botswana one day will be free from the bondage of poverty and my countrymen will not be so bitter. I dream that my motherland will be brought back to its origins, when harmony reigned and peace and stability prevailed. A place to work and rest. These are my dreams.

The horizon is set out in blue and black hues, a typical dawn in Francistown. My friend Kabo vacates his old dilapidated compound, leaving behind his sister with his aged grandmother, who is supposed to be their guardian. His parents were swallowed by the so called “Radio disease” [AIDS]. I catch up with him as he is about to close his mesh wire gate. I sense something really obnoxious as I face him. His face is pale and disheveled like he had been swallowed by a crocodile. As I try to release what might be haunting him, I remember that his grandmother has been in bad shape recently, perhaps because of old age but mainly because of hunger.

The little food they get from the government only lasts them two weeks. I am profoundly saddened because he is not the only fifteen year old who becomes a student and cares for the family at the same time. Many children have been forced to drop out of school because of this poverty. It has denied many a chance to become future leaders, doctors, ambassadors, and stars of tomorrow. Thought I dream that all Batswana [people of Botswana] may hold his hands so as to eradicate poverty I still my heart not to hope too much lest I jinx my hope, for poverty is sabotaging us children.

I read a newspaper article which read. “School Fees”- a chance for Botswana to take part in their children’s education? The irony of this article makes me sad. When I think of my neighbors, whose mother only earns 400 pula [about USD80] per month. I just cannot imagine how much of a burden school fees will be to then when they cannot even afford supper or lunch sometimes. I wonder if their chance of pursuing university is going to be abruptly halted. Their parent dropped out from school because of school fees. Now if they do not go to university their poverty is going to perpetuate I their own generation as well. I dream that Botswana may get rid of all of these school fees, so children may be given a chance to break this perpetual poverty. Not only are school fees a financial constraint to Batswana families but also set many children on an emotional rollercoaster.

So many dreams and so many years we have lost to AIDS. I dream that Botswana will be an AIDS free society. As a young motswana [singular for person of Botswana], I am fear struck for there are a lot of deaths that we teenagers, children and adults face because of this deadly AIDS. In our neighborhood there are a lot of deaths, when one inquires to know about the cause, AIDS is always the answer. The people who are mainly consumed by AIDS are merely children and teenagers. This not only brings agony and shame to my heart but it profoundly frightens me. I wonder if I am going to fall victim to AIDS. The books [statistics] say I am not going to reach half a century [in age] because of AIDS. My future is suddenly made bleak by this.

I try to speak out what I dream but my voice is not heard, like I am in a cave searching for help and nobody rescues me. Still this does not stop me from dreaming for it is not a crime to dream. I hope that my dreams will be realized; if they are not, they will remain as unfulfilled as an illusion.

Benson Serara Motswelta, age 17
Mater Spel College, Francistown

The statistics say that I will reach at least three score and ten; that I will have 2.2 healthy children who will attend university; that I will reach one of the highest tax brackets and that less than 1% of that tax money will be used in humanitarian efforts across the globe to help people like Benson. What a dream for America.

A Dream for Botswana

Below is a copy of the address of one of the secondary school students who won the US Embassy essay competition honoring Martin Luther King Day in Gaborone, Botswana. Winners were chosen for their essay’s originality and were awarded certificates, a book about Martin Luther King and about USD 100. As you read Benson’s dreams for his country, keep in mind that Botswana is one of the wealthiest African countries with an economy considered a safer investment than even that of South Africa.


A Dream for Botswana
Benson Serara Motswetla, age 17

Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream. Today I have a dream for my country, Botswana. A dream that I will wake up tomorrow and there will be not AIDS for even as I write this severely dreaded acronym, agony strikes my face. I have a dream that Botswana one day will be free from the bondage of poverty and my countrymen will not be so bitter. I dream that my motherland will be brought back to its origins, when harmony reigned and peace and stability prevailed. A place to work and rest. These are my dreams.

The horizon is set out in blue and black hues, a typical dawn in Francistown. My friend Kabo vacates his old dilapidated compound, leaving behind his sister with his aged grandmother, who is supposed to be their guardian. His parents were swallowed by the so called “Radio disease” [AIDS]. I catch up with him as he is about to close his mesh wire gate. I sense something really obnoxious as I face him. His face is pale and disheveled like he had been swallowed by a crocodile. As I try to release what might be haunting him, I remember that his grandmother has been in bad shape recently, perhaps because of old age but mainly because of hunger.

The little food they get from the government only lasts them two weeks. I am profoundly saddened because he is not the only fifteen year old who becomes a student and cares for the family at the same time. Many children have been forced to drop out of school because of this poverty. It has denied many a chance to become future leaders, doctors, ambassadors, and stars of tomorrow. Thought I dream that all Batswana [people of Botswana] may hold his hands so as to eradicate poverty I still my heart not to hope too much lest I jinx my hope, for poverty is sabotaging us children.

I read a newspaper article which read. “School Fees”- a chance for Botswana to take part in their children’s education? The irony of this article makes me sad. When I think of my neighbors, whose mother only earns 400 pula [about USD80] per month. I just cannot imagine how much of a burden school fees will be to then when they cannot even afford supper or lunch sometimes. I wonder if their chance of pursuing university is going to be abruptly halted. Their parent dropped out from school because of school fees. Now if they do not go to university their poverty is going to perpetuate I their own generation as well. I dream that Botswana may get rid of all of these school fees, so children may be given a chance to break this perpetual poverty. Not only are school fees a financial constraint to Batswana families but also set many children on an emotional rollercoaster.

So many dreams and so many years we have lost to AIDS. I dream that Botswana will be an AIDS free society. As a young motswana [singular for person of Botswana], I am fear struck for there are a lot of deaths that we teenagers, children and adults face because of this deadly AIDS. In our neighborhood there are a lot of deaths, when one inquires to know about the cause, AIDS is always the answer. The people who are mainly consumed by AIDS are merely children and teenagers. This not only brings agony and shame to my heart but it profoundly frightens me. I wonder if I am going to fall victim to AIDS. The books [statistics] say I am not going to reach half a century [in age] because of AIDS. My future is suddenly made bleak by this.

I try to speak out what I dream but my voice is not heard, like I am in a cave searching for help and nobody rescues me. Still this does not stop me from dreaming for it is not a crime to dream. I hope that my dreams will be realized; if they are not, they will remain as unfulfilled as an illusion.

Benson Serara Motswelta, age 17
Mater Spel College, Francistown

The statistics say that I will reach at least three score and ten; that I will have 2.2 healthy children who will attend university; that I will reach one of the highest tax brackets and that less than 1% of that tax money will be used in humanitarian efforts across the globe to help people like Benson. What a dream for America.

3-9 Honey, There’s a Hippo outside our Tent

We are into perhaps our most un-luxurious portion of our trip. We’ve been living in a tent for two weeks just outside Chobe National Park and have about two more months of tent living, mosquito fighting, monkey defending, crocodile bewaring adventures.

Residing adjacent to the national park, we have nightly visits from the resident Hippo. It’s so big and gets so close to our tent window that sometimes we don’t realize we’re looking at its ass till it moves. Apparently, it’s the most aggressive animal on earth, so I don’t dare deprive it of its wishes as it vacuums up the bush around our area. The Baboons are a constant nuisance, coming up to our tent (or improvised table) and snatching the sugar packets or food from us as we eat. We cook everything by fire, so meals are to be planned, and take longer. Plus I spend good portion of my morning in search of dry wood. Fortunately right now, we have access to water, hot showers, and communal camping bathrooms. But when we move to the village and camp, Kate says we need to walk 2-4km. for water… everyday.



Despite all the challenges, I find this lifestyle fun and stimulating. Night fires are warm, cozy, and calming (especially with the box wine- “boxed” because they store better, are cheaper, and easier to transport – plus monkeys haven’t figured how to open them). Mornings are a bit more difficult to start a fire with dew-wet wood so we skip our tea. I always manage a bike ride during the day (and spot some game too*), learn new things from the locals, and soak in the beautiful Chobe scenery. I read from my USB the recent Web-news, and current interests downloaded from my last stint at an Internet Café. I always have the blog to do, books to read, and mosquitoes to kill. Kate gives me projects like interviewing subjects for her research. I manage the photo documentation she does for research. And most importantly improvise with limited tools to make our area as safe and comfortable for us.

For the last two weeks, the latest project I’ve undertaken is developing the marketing strategy and messaging for a new Safari Company here at Chobe [Flora & Fauna Safaris]. The expert Wildlife Guide and entrepreneur I work with is the husband of Kate’s research assistant and he is establishing his own company. We both have gotten a lot out of our relationship: I’ve learned wonderful insights into the local tourism industry (and in the process seen great game), and he, more focus and discipline in his marketing outlook. Ahh, such is the joy of helping people and learning new things –symbiotic, just like nature.

*oddly enough, we have not gone on an “official” Game drive yet (i.e. one that we actually paid), but from my daily 15mile bike rides around the park I have already seen Kudu, Impala, Giraffe, Elephant, Zebra, Wilebeast, Warthogs, Hippos and Baboons. It has been thrilling, and scary, at the same time since I lack the security of a car. The locals keep warning me its dangerous to ride here because of the animals (lions and snakes) but then again, so is Chicago with the four-wheeled SUV animals running rampant in the streets!

3-7 Botswana vs Zambia, a Closer Look

After our first 30 days in Botswana, and letting the excitement abate over being in a developed country I’d like to take the time to list what separates this beautiful country from Zambia.

Corruption: Botswana = No tolerance. Zambia = Rampant. For example, our speeding tickets in Zambia were fabricated by the cops by not resetting the radar gun and targeted at Muzungus to pay. We were victims of this, and decided not to pay because (1) they were wrong and (2) they had no central database to track if we did pay or not. In Botswana, everything is computerized in a central database, and cops issue official receipts when you break the law. We were victims of this too (and yes, I paid but really, officer, I didn’t see the temporary stop sign at the road block!).

Roads: We actually see road crews repairing potholes in the roads. Botswana prides itself on its highways and transport infrastructure and it shows. Driving here is almost as smooth as the States (you just have to watch out for the elephants- which is another story!).

Garbage: Like any developed nation, Botswana runs an efficient, centralized, garbage/sanitary body that manages and disposes of public waste. In Zambia’s case, there is no government trash pick-up. Private compounds (i.e. rich people neighborhoods) have private companies that clean their area, and the rest of the country is essentially a trash can. When a country takes pride of its cleanliness, citizens respond with National pride (Singapore and Botswana are prime examples). When a country (like Zambia) doesn’t, then people don’t care about public property and litter, spit, desecrate, everywhere. Bottom line: Botswana is sparkles where Zambia rots.

Sex: Public sex education seems more open here, and the HIV/AIDS stigma does not seem as harsh. I have seen many free male & female condom dispensers in government buildings, bars, gyms, the university, hotels, and bathrooms- they even carry the country’s flag as if it is your national duty to wear a condom! Posters are everywhere promoting safe sex, abstinence etc., just like in Zambia, but there are even posters promoting masturbation saying it’s not wrong and (obviously) safer then sex with a partner (you’d never see that in conservative Zambia). HIV/AIDS is actually more prevalent here than in Zambia with about 18% infection rate among adults. With a population of about 1.7 million, this is a devastating statistic when you consider the while generation the disease will wipe out and the orphans it will leave. The government has a no-holds-barred approach to tackling the disease with the help of NGOs and the US Government. ARVs are provided free from the government, healthcare is more aware to the problems/complications of the disease, and prevention programs are a full-scale war on the deadly virus. All this is in an effort to reverse the effects of the virus and prolong the life of Botswana’s workforce.

Capitalism: Seems like African countries nowadays must show its development (or modernity) by what products it make available to the public. Consumerism is rampant here. You can get anything from the Malls. And yes they have Malls – just as big and grand as the States. The malls have escalators (which we rode just for fun… I guess its been a while!). The people also have trouble saving – judging from the sales, and media OpEds. Batswanas are no different from Americans, it’s a consumer culture here. All the shops offer credit, layaways, and pay later scheme. This is a far cry from Zambia where you’d have to eat your heart out to find a shop that allows you to pay with credit card or store credit.

Bogus Marketing Celebrations: Back to consumerism, you can tell how far a country has gone onto the “developed western marketing dark-side” by what occasions in promotes. In Botswana, Christmas and Valentine’s Day were huge sale opportunities to be milked. In Zambia, you hardly heard anything, or felt the “spirit” or saw decorations in the streets.

Water: You can drink it here, straight from the tap. You can’t do that in Zambia, or even the bulk of the African countries (even some parts of South Africa).

Beggars: Being a richer country, a government that does not tolerate corruption, and one that provides care for its citizens, it is easy to see why we’ve only come across ONE beggar in our whole 30 days here. In Zambia, we’d have 30 street kids begging from us in one day. Needless to say, it’s a lot easier being a tourist here.

Despite all the differences between the two countries, Botswana is still Africa (I mean everything that is charming and beautiful about the continent). You have the unbelievable game parks. You have your local street stall markets colorfully shielding the front of the contrasting corporate supermarkets. You hear drumming in the streets, people are always friendly and tickled when you attempt to speak with them in the local language. Everyone has more than one “project” going on in order to sustain their lifestyle. For instance, the lodge where we stayed, the Nigerian manager ran a used car sale lot during the day. Many Africans have their hand in different income generating schemes –it’s their most secure way to ensure financial stability. Diversifying our portfolio in the stock market to us is the same as diversifying their income streams.

Botswana is the Africa many countries on the continent strive to be.

3-1 Chariots Of Fire and the Eye of the Tiger: Great Experiences In Gaborone

Staying in new places every two weeks has always been stimulating (if not challenging). But residing at the Lolwapa Lodge in Gaborone was a real treat. First we had an en-suite bathroom. The room was airconditioned, The place was secure and safe (no rats either). And best of all, the Botswana National Track Team and Namibian National Boxing Team were staying there for the month in preparation for the Commonwealth Games.

So from Feb 10-24, I spent my days observing, note-taking, assisting, and when allowed to, joining the athletes as they prepared for the Games in Australia. The track team had a couple of medalists from Athens, so they were a serious bunch. Honestly, I wasn’t much use as a training partner. But I came in handy keeping spirits up at the track warm-ups, drills and serving as the video guy for the high-jumper and hurdler so they could analyze their technique.

The boxers were a friendly bunch (a bit ironic since they loved bashing the other Southern African teams during their Commonwealth prep tournaments). I was included in the training sessions by performing drills and sparing within my weight class. I suspect this was because (1) they thought, being Asian, I knew kung fu and could take a hit, and (2) they were short a couple of guys and needed a willing punching bag.



One interesting thing I noted was that a lot of the Southern African coaches and doctors present were Cubans: boxing, basketball, track & field. They all have been very successful with their work earning medals for the country that employ them.

All the bruising and muscle soreness did reap rewards though. I’m regaining fitness lost from the broken foot. And the best of all, I was made an honorary fan by receiving the official Botswana Olympic team jacket for a Cubs hat and a job offer from the Namibian boxing Association Team Manager to help in their marketing when I go to Windhoek (Namibian capital) in May.

A little sweat does go a long way.

2-28 Trendsetter Articles

You may recall reading about my involvement with Trendsetters, an NGO focused on increasing knowledge and skills related to sexual reproductive health, HIV/AIDS, and safer sex practices through their very popular magazine. Well, the March issue has hit the streets and I’m officially a published writer in Africa! I was a contributing writer covering foreigners (Muzungus) who go out with the local Zambians, and- get this!- uncovering the truths of the Kama Sutra. Articles have been pasted below. Enjoy.



Beauty and the Muzungu: True love, Economic Partnership, or Does it Matter?
Note: All names have been changed to protect the privacy of the individuals interviewed. Interviews conducted in Lusaka and Livingstone.

Most of us are familiar with Beauty and the Beast, the fairy tale story of “true love” overcoming the odds and granting the couple life’s “happily ever after”. But we all know that reality is more complex than fiction, so why do we judge our relationships against the Western ideal that we enter relationships for love?

Foreign men often seek out “relationships” with Zambian women, many of whom are just as enthusiastic about the search. However, when we see a young black woman with an old white man we judge negatively, assuming “she’s after his money” and “he’s after her body”. Why? When we judge unconventional couples assuming they can’t be in love (and thus have a legitimate relationship), we create negative stigmas towards relationships that cross race and age categories.

What if we are right and the man is a “sugar daddy”? If so, he provides financial security for his partner and possibly her family. Even if we assume Beauty and the Muzungu are together for “sex and new experiences”, or “sex and money”, our response should not be one of disgust but, rather, a reflection on the bigger picture: do we accept a relationship based on “non-love benefits” be equal to one based on “true love”?

“I get a lot of looks when I walk around with my boyfriend [Peter] because he’s white and looks 10 years older than me. But I don’t care,” says Carla, a recent graduate from UNZA. “With our relationship I shop and eat at expensive places, travel and even share some of these experiences with my friends. We look different, but [Peter and I] share similar interests and enjoy each other’s company—people are wrong to assume it’s just about sex for us.”

Carla’s experiences with her Muzungu boyfriend within the six months they have been dating show how the relationship has exposed her to new experiences that increase her self esteem, youthful curiosities, and social capital (respect and admiration from peers). And as she enjoys this personal growth, she has companionship she enjoys.

Josie, a 26 year old, has been going out with a 53 year old Muzungu for the last two years. Paul, her partner, is separated from his wife (who lives in South Africa) and he works eight months of the year in Zambia. “I’ve had wonderful experiences traveling with Paul. He is a kind man and very supportive of my career [banking] and my family. He has met and helped my mother who is sick, and I have even met his two kids.” Josie continues, “we are both aware of the limits of our relationship due to his marriage, his kids, and our jobs. We just enjoy each other- its not necessarily “true love”. I like him a lot. Not love him a lot. I am sure he would say the same of me. It’s kind of like having a best friend.”

Paul’s relationship with Josie has allowed her to increase her social status among her friends and family. Simply by his financial assistance and emotional support of her career, Josie gets the same benefits as a Zambian woman who has married a successful Zambian: payment of school fees and medical expenses for extended family, miscellaneous household bills, and even the odd car repair job. Being financially secure (in part due to her job and in part due to Paul) she even spoils herself once in a while on a shopping splurge.

“By being able to take care of my family gives me status in my family,” explains Josie. “I see myself as the modern Zambian female: I make my own choices, when it comes to a career, relationships, and family. I don’t think you have to be married and have children to be an adult. My peers and family consider me an adult because I can take care of those around me as well as myself. You could say I have gained the status of a married woman through my relationship to Paul.”

Not everything was always rosy with how people viewed Josie’s relationship with Paul. “My friends and family had to accept our relationship for what it is...if I was with a Zambian man, he would have to provide for me and my family too. The way they see it now, I have the benefits of marriage, but have the freedom I would have lost if I married a traditional Zambian.”

Sometimes, stereotypes are true (and so what if it is!): a relationship between the Beauty and Muzungu can just be about the sex. Or more aptly put, sex can be central to the relationship. Just look at Precious, 33, and the Frenchman Andy, 36. For three months they have been enjoying adventures under the sheets. “The sex is great,” exclaimed Precious. “Partly because we both like sexual experimentation… our lives are chaotic and we find peace together. But we are adults—we got tested before we had sex. We wanted to be careful.”

Almost to perpetuate the amorous French stereotype, Andy explains, “I make her happy in bed, she makes me happy in bed, so our lives are very happy outside of bed.” Precious also admits that her relationship with Andy is a reaction to one of the realities of our world: racism. “It’s wonderful to have your mind and body adored and appreciated by a white man. Black women have been mistreated throughout history—and still are by traditional Zambian men! My relationship with Andy and other couples like us proves that black women are valued.”

There are many reasons why a relationship between Beauty and the Muzungu exists. The woman is not an exploited victim, prey to the Muzungu because of her poverty. Carla, Josie and Precious are autonomous, intelligent women, calculating how a partnership with a Muzungu gives them different tools to fulfill their sense of self and make their place in society. These women’s actions force us to reconsider what constitutes a legitimate, socially acceptable relationship. So, next time you see an oddly placed mixed couple, refrain from your critique—it may be a rare exposure to a real-life fairy tale in action.

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The Kama Sutra: So Much More Than Sex

Kamasutram, generally known to the Western world as Kama Sutra (or Karmasutra, Karma Sutra and Kama Shastra), is often mistaken as ancient India's racy sex manual. The title conjures erotic visions of maharajas performing sexual gymnastics with naked bejeweled virgins. What we’ve failed to realize is the Kama Sutra is not just an erotic work of sexual positions. In fact, only a quarter of the book is devoted to this subject. The bulk of the book gives guidance on how to be a good citizen and insights into social relationships. Even more astutely, the teachings acknowledge the ludicrous concept of abstinence and tackles it by suggesting methods to increase the sexual bond of a relationship, and thus, one’s faithfulness.

Unlike the Victorian Christian view that the sole purpose of sex is procreation (still a prevalent view), in the fourth century Hindus developed a set of beliefs in which the cultivation of sexual pleasure, independent of procreation, was considered one of life's highest callings. Ancient Hindus believed that life had three purposes: religious piety (dharma), material success (artha), and sexual pleasure (kama), a set of ideas that permeates the Kama Sutra and is still a part of Hindu belief. All three life purposes were equal, and the erotic was celebrated as the seat of earthly beauty. In the Hindu world the pursuit of sexual pleasure was revered as a sort of religious crusade, involving genitalia and the heart, rather than swords, blood, war or jihad.

Literally translated, Kama means desire and Sutra is a teaching or discourse. Thus, the Karma Sutra is a treatise on sexual pleasure: the study of the cultivation of kama (desire) in man and woman to assure the transmission of life. In the Kama Sutra, making love is a "divine union"; sex itself is not wrong, but doing it frivolously is sinful.

The Kama Sutra is organized into seven parts:

1. Introduction (4 chapters) - love in general, its place in a man's life, and a classification of women.
2. On Sexual Union (10 chapters) - kissing, foreplay, orgasm, sexual positions, oral sex (heterosexual and homosexual), anal sex, paraphernalia, and ménage à trois.
3. About the Acquisition of a Wife (5 chapters) - courtship and marriage.
4. About a Wife (2 chapters) - proper conduct of a wife.
5. About the Wives of Other People (6 chapters) - seduction outside the marriage.
6. About Courtesans (6 chapters) – courtly life and seduction.
7. On the Means of Attracting Others to Oneself (2 chapters).

The book’s content is proof that the Karma Sutra is not just about sex. The Kama Sutra acknowledges sex as one of the basic needs of all humans, heterosexual or homosexual, but considers sex a higher calling, in which frivolous union is sinful. Therefore, only 20% of the book is about the act of sex whilst 80% concerns acts before and after. Learning the art of Karma Sutra is really about learning to be a skillful partner—physically and emotionally (and thus increasing the chances of a faithful relationship). There are chapters on medicine, keeping the body healthy, keeping one’s spouse happy, proper conduct of a husband towards his wife, and being emotionally in tune with your partner. The Kama Sutra even concludes its discussion of extramarital affairs by saying that it does not advocate philandering, and seeks to prevent it by describing all the ways lotharios might fool husbands worried about their wives' wandering eyes.

Beyond sex, the Kama Sutra illustrates how to be a good citizen and build healthy relationships through the “general arts”, so as to enhance the sexual experience. The general arts include singing, dancing, playing instruments, knowledge of foreign languages, nurturing the intellect, speaking generously and eloquently, painting, calligraphy, cooking delicious foods, treating birds and animals, etc. Similar to the concept of the “Renaissance Man” during the 16th Century, Indians emphasized the notion that knowledge about the world and personal development were central to the cultivation of kama, desire.

When it comes to sex, the Kama Sutra contains a total of 64 sexual positions known as the 64 Arts. The listing of these sexual positions is commonly mistaken to be the entirety of the sutra, teaching. This is unfortunate; as you can see, there is so much more than the 64 Arts. Even within the 64 Arts, modern readers tend to focus sophmoricly on the physical positions rather than the philosophy behind them. In the Kama Sutra, for instance, women are recognized as full, lusty participants in sex, and men must learn ejaculatory control to last long enough to bring them to orgasm: "Women love the man whose sexual energy lasts a long time, but they resent a man whose energy ends quickly because he stops before they reach a climax."

The Kama Sutra is very attentive to women's pleasure, and even more realistic about human sexuality; one can derive from its teachings that abstinence is a joke. The fact that the sutras actively seek to enhance one’s kama, desire (and appeal) is interpreted as increasing one’s chance of a monogamous relationship. Imagine, if two people can achieve a "divine union" through sex; sex can only be sinful if done wrong, and by encouraging to do it right, the bond in any sexual partnership is strengthened. This approach has many sceptics. However, every culture or religion has a different value system – and judging one from the perspective of another is a slippery slope. It is hypocritical to judge Hinduism’s Kama Sutra as sinful, especially when it advocates the cultivation of desire among humanity to preserve our existence and the institution of marriage.

Finally, a little known fact within the book’s most famous chapter “On Sexual Union”, is its acknowledgement of oral sex and homosexuality. Ancient Indian men enjoyed blowjobs as much as men do today, as evidenced by elaborate instructions on how to perform what the Kama Sutra calls "sucking the mango." In an ambivalent aside, it is noted that some men enjoy sucking each other's mangoes.

Today. the Kama Sutra retains its place as a manual for sex. However, it is also a resource providing insights on human relations and building healthy partnerships whether erotic or emotional. If we were as well versed in the other 80% of the Kama Sutra as our egos believe we are experts in the sexual 20%, then perhaps we’d be living in a world with lower rates of divorce, domestic violence and prostitution and instead be enjoying lively courtships, passionate marriages, and monogamous relationships.

Botswana – First Impressions

2/12/06



As soon as we crossed the border into Botswana, we thought we were back in the States. There were significantly fewer potholes than Zambia. Road crews were repairing the roads, and even new highways were being constructed. We saw “Home Depot”-type stores, and even Builder Warehouses. The biggest surprise was the strip malls. They had escalators in them. We were so deprived of “development” in Zambia that we rode up and down them several times for fun! The best part of Botswana is that the U.S. dollar has not artificially dropped against the local currency like its 35% depreciation in Zambia. The wine here is affordable at $3 a bottle, and the food choices are like being in any metro area in the States and, better yet, you can even drink out of the tap. The best thing about this country is the fact that beef is affordable here, since this is cattle (and diamond) country. So I’ve been going steak crazy, now that our dollar buys more. Who needs veggies anyways? More on the African form of development in Botswana soon…after the last two days of “developed world” excitement subsides.