Sunday, February 12, 2017

Sunday Morning

Well it's been a lot of waiting around Saturday morning. 11:51 and time for a Mosi, the local lager.

It is afterall Saturday 😬  Waiting for a new tire and tuneup on the van before we head off to Kitwe and then Lusaka tomorrow. Gorgeous day again. Beautiful breeze. While we were waiting we walked around and saw the Museum of Zambia. Really interesting. That's a whole different post when I have time to go through the pictures and give some sort of text to go with it.

We  finally got to the village at 2:30. Grabbed a bite of lunch and then off to an adventure and a half. We decided that going to Kitwe and copper mine were too much for the amount of time that we had, considering that we were supposed to be at Hope House (the actual orphanage) for supper with the kids there. (Never heard a target time as to when we were expected.)

The next stop was the United Nations Heritage Site Dag Hammerskjold. This is where his plane crashed and he was killed. Controversy still exists as to did the plane crash on it's own or was it shot down by a second plane -- why did it take first responders 13 hours to get there....and so on.

As a potter I am interested in pottery and Margaret allowed as how there was a village where they made pots. Now the key word here is "village". We in the States have zero concept of what a Zambian village is. It's not a bunch of thatched huts. The indiginous building material now is the red sandy clay that is all over. They form blocks of this and then fire them in a huge pile. Portland cement is made locally so that is used for the mortar to hold it all together.  The closest thing I can describe is think "Bags End" with zero grass and these houses tight together in a rabbit warren-like arrangement.

The quest for the lady who makes pots was quite an adventure. Not knowing exactly where it was, I nagged Charlie to ask one of the local residents for directions. Two women said they knew where it was but the directions were way too confusing, so they got in the van and off we went, not without some very close passages up and down through the village market.

Finally we got to a place where Charlie parked the van and stayed with it while we went off on foot to find the lady. Traditional coil pots, beautifully decorated, and one just keept saying "buy me, buy me" so I did. It's going to have to be carried onto the plane because I don't want to chance it in the check baggage.

And after I told her I wanted that one and why, she went back into the house and came out with a lid for it. I was perfectly happy to pay the 50KWA for the pot and lid. I'll treasure it and it will  also be used for beans soon after I get home.

1 comment:

  1. Mike I feel so much love and humanism in this effort of yours. Its funny how our potential doesn't always get to a peak or high plateau until we have enough wisdom to see how we can help others. (For others, Mike and I were classmates at Berlin American High School in 56-57)