Field day

After a weekend of dealing with some food poisoning from mixing fish and chicken while eating a hotel-catered nshima lunch at a political meeting for The Monitor, I realized that my decision to mix both of these meats was probably not a great idea. I spent the night at Kuomboka Backpackers crashing on the floor in the room of two fellow JHR trainers cluctching my stomach. I've been feeling pretty wonky even today and amidst plenty of fairly sketchy bottled water and other street and fast food I have consumed, I am beyond anxious to move into my flat on Friday.

Luckily I am staying with a fantastic new friend, Ruby, whom is my guardian angel in this city - not only did she give us the digits of an affordable and safe taxi driver, but she's helped us get to know the city, entertain us with adventurous stories and make this place feel a bit more like home.

Friday was my first day out in the field and also my first marriage proposal. A colleague and I were making our way to the Chawama bus when a guy grabbed my shoulder and yelled, "be my wife!." He followed us into the bus shouting that he wanted to take me as his wife over and over and we eventually had the door shut on him. Now I know why my H&M fake wedding ring set comes in handy...

The first day out in the field was great - we attended a political meeting with a Patriotic Front MP and a mayor of a nearby town, Kitwe, overseeing development advocacy and its guidelines which had been created by a ministry and completely left out room for politicians to collaborate on it. The story comes out in tomorrow's issue which will not be on-line but we'll see if I can upload it.

Saturday night, some of the ladies and I went dancing at the Brown Frog and experienced Zambian nightlife for the first time. Despite our stalker fan club, we still managed to have a good time and I realized that Mosi when had too much becomes a bad tasting substitute for good beer. Or that could have been the nshima still talking to me in my insides...