Sleeping in Chongwe

19-8-2012




"Life is just a mirror and what you see out there you must first see inside of yourself." - Wally Amos



There are many elements of American life that I miss; being able to get in my car and drive, the ease of accessing hot water with a mere turn of a knob, and the mouth watering sensation of a burrito meshing with my taste buds... Yet among these modern luxuries that I unknowingly took for granted until this PC experience is having a peaceful sleeping atmosphere. One where lights could be switched off and disturbances would be at a minimum for the majority of the night. It was glorious to have the commodity of retreating into a room, closing a door and having peace and quite until daybreak. Those days however are a fleeting memory. A tale of a life back home that once offered the possibility of 8 hours of sleep throughout the night. And now, even the thought of 7, or even 6 hour sleep is an unlikely scenario..

For the past three weeks, I have lived in a small village. Here the people live a simple life. There is only one main road and a series of paths that lead to different villages and shanties. Most live without electricity, all without plumbing. You'd think by these standards that life would be peaceful. Somewhat of a relaxing break away from the hustle and bustle of urban living. If you assumed these facts to be true, just as I, you couldn't be further from the truth.


My nights here are anything but peaceful. I've never been a model sleeper, I usually wake up a few times in the middle of the night to tend to a disruptive bladder, yet I find so many other factors that contribute to a restless night sleep that my bladder is now the least of my woes. First are the rats. Not one, not two, but a hoard of rats that swarm my hut the moment the lights go out. I hear them in the dark while I lay in bed. They scurry about most likely searching for food, but sometime from the sound of their claws, I think they're playing an organized game of soccer. Despite my conscience efforts in keeping my hut immaculate they still come. I sleep with a flashlight in one hand and a shoe in the other and constantly arise when I hear them approach. I sleep light and am always ready to strike when their ugly head rears in my flashlights beam . I am becoming a seasoned vet in the art of setting traps and anticipating their escape moves. So far I have caught three, two by smashing with a shoe. Though I am desperate to exterminate the species, I'm beginning fear them less, and have mildly been accepting their presence as a part of Zambian life.


There's a bar less then 1 km down the road, and similar to many American bars, it closes very late and plays very loud music. It wouldn't be such an issue if Zambia had a better rounded music selection, but I am not so lucky. They play a total of 3 songs; three songs played all night long in a continuous fashion somewhat similar to what you'd expect if a burnt out Lynard Skynard fan made all the musical requests at a dive bar in the deep south. Yet I'm even less partial towards Zam-Pop. If there is some type of auditory water-boarding torture that I'm not aware of, this would be a close rendition. To exacerbate the situation, the bar sends a slew of drunken divas, both men and women, stumbling past my house all with a perceived licence to sing, repeating tunes with no volume control as they retreat back to their shanty dwelling.


Aside from the rats, my home stay family has two dogs. A male named Scooby, and a female named Spot. They are wonderful dogs and I credit their excellent guarding skills for part of the reason why I feel so safe. They seem like a very fitting couple and are very territorial about our area. One morning, about a week after being placed in my home stay, I awoke to find 4 other dogs near, yet keeping their distance from both Spot and Scooby. They were all male, and after observing their particular interest in Spot, Bob Barker's famous quote about having your dogs fixed began make sense . For 3 weeks now, poor Spot has been on the defense from horny, seed spreading males all with one thing on their minds. Despite Scooby's brave and valiant efforts, there have been several dogs that have been larger, stronger and more aggressive. The result has been constant growling and barking, late night fights, blood curling yelps, a tired frustrated Spot, and a bloody and scarred Scooby. I'm beginning to believe that Spot is the only female around these parts. Every night i'm torn on weather I should exit my hut and intervene in these intense quarrels, or let nature run its course.


Another noteworthy sleep impediment are the preventive medications that Peace Corps prescribes to us. Namely Methloquine, which is a doxy (preventive) for Malaria. I have dabbled in the experimentation of mind altering drugs once or twice in my youth, but when it comes to real crazy trips, I mean intense vivid dreams, Methloquine takes the prize. My dreams since being on the drug have been intensely detailed and vivid and I have become quite fond of the nights when I do take the drug ( which is once a week), because It supplements for the lack of entertainment on those long dull nights in my hut when reading doesn't cut it. After a night when the drug level peak, I usually wake up laughing, sometimes relieved, always baffled and consistently exhausted because my mind, instead of resting, was composing some off the wall mind adventure that came from god knows where.


The symphony of the night is often complimented with crying babies, wandering cows, and active fruit bats that I think live in my thatch roof. And going back to the bladder issue, I've decided to take advantage of an abandoned 2 liter container that I use as a temporary rest room because my restroom is too far for comfort to be walking to half asleep in middle of the night. A chimbozie (Outdoor bathroom) isn't the most comforting facility as it is, and is usually a hangout spot at night for rats and or unfriendly poisonous snakes. My advice to anyone contemplating Zambia as a vacation spot, especially if your going to do village living is to get as much rest as you can before traveling in country. A quite night doesn't exist here..