Lusaka

I wanted to go to Lusaka primarily to finally see someone that I'd known since childhood, but never met. In the early 80s, a young Zambian man named Emmanuel flew to Saskatchewan to work in a northern, predominantly First Nations town, through Canadian Crossroads International. His presence caused a sensation, and the local newspaper would run such ludicrous pieces as "Emmanuel in the Snow" and "Emmanuel Eats Out!". On his occasional trips down to Regina, he needed a place to stay. CCI tried to place him in the home of another African, or at least with another black person, to make him feel more at home. "The closest person they could find," he told me, "was your dad." At the time, my parents were living in Regina, newly married and childless, so they had the space for a guest, and became good friends with Emmanuel. In 1985, when I was just a baby, Emmanuel came back to Canada to work, this time along with his wife Ruth. The two families remained in contact, and when I was young, I struck up a correspondence with their first born, Penjani. We would write letters, send clothing and trinkets back and forth across the globe. In our teenage years and early twenties, the correspondence dried out -- we only wrote the occasional email.

This year, the connection was rekindled. Penjani came to Nairobi as a competitor on a singing-based reality show called Idols (the African equivalent to American Idol, and just as wildly popular!). We didn't get to meet then because of scheduling, but we reconnected then, and I thought it would be a good idea to make a trip down to Zambia to see the whole family now that I had the chance. The family has expanded to eight now, and they gave me a very warm reception, especially considering that I had arrived at such an uncivilized hour (5am). It was so nice to spend time in a real family home again. Ruth and Penjani showed me around Lusaka, from the townships to the upmarket shopping malls. We visited the house where Kenneth Kaunda, Zambia's first President, planned the move towards independence. We the grave of Levy Mwanawasa, the third President, who just passed away in August. We went to the manic, colourful city market, and the more sedate Kabwata cultural centre. And in the evenings, we would gather for a delicious, home-cooked meal. I was interested to see that they also have ugali in Zambia, except it's called nshima and is a prepared slightly differently than in East Africa, making it a bit softer. Apparently, this is the same thing as mealie-pap in South Africa. After dinner, Emmanuel would tell me stories of his time in Canada, like the time that, in his words, "my ears nearly broke off." All because he was too vain about his afro to wear a hat in the winter. Penjani would tell me about her business ideas and music career. At 22, she is running her own wedding planning business, singing at events, recording and album, and has made various radio and tv appearances. I was awed by her energy, talent and ambition -- the girl makes me feel positively lazy! It was so wonderful to meet her after all the years that we'd been in touch.

While Lusaka itself is fairly small and low-key, I thoroughly enjoyed the company. One interesting thing was that, immediately after stepping off the bus, I knew that I wasn't in East Africa anymore. Something about the people -- particularly the way they spoke and dressed -- screamed South. There were also quite a lot of South African chain stores in Zambia, and it seemed that there was a lot more variety in terms of produce than I'd seen anywhere else (peaches! plums! grapes sold on the street!), so that was exciting for me. Zambia is also an amazing country in terms of its cultural diversity -- there are about 72 different ethnic groups packed into the country. Many of the traditional cultural ceremonies are still practiced (or, perhaps I should say are practiced again -- they seem to have enjoyed a revival of sorts in the 80s). These include a large-scale seasonal migration away from floodplains; a masquerade, complete with masks representing various facets of humanity; and many coming-of-age ceremonies, which inevitably involve a lot of song and dance. Unfortunately, I came at the wrong time of year for ceremonies, but I'd be very interested in checking out some of these events another time. There's always something to come back for.