VCT Day and Spider Incidents.

Hello again! Sorry for the lack of post yesterday - we had the day off and so just lazed in the sun, I didn't think we should bore you. Today on the other hand has been rather busy.

We were told that we had to meet up with Wilson and Oliver in town at 8am this morning, as it was National VCT day (Voluntary Counselling and Testing for HIV). We were supposed to be going out into the bush for this - we didn't really know what the day was going to entail, but as promised, we were at the arranged meeting place at 7.50am.

At 9.30am, an hour and a half after the arranged time, people were finally ready to set off. As we'd been waiting, an American woman named Lisa had introduced herself to us, recognising us to be waiting for the same thing. She explained that she was a teacher to the deaf and ran a school-room for children from her house in the town, and that she was going to the VCT day with some of her students in order to interpret the speeches for them.

Lisa signing for her students

After waiting for half an hour, Lisa was also beginning to express the standard Western frustration with 'Zambian time' - even though she had lived in Zambia for over a year this time, and had been coming and going for extended periods long before that, she declared that she never could get used to this casual lateness.

When we did finally arrive at our destination in the bush, there was a shaded clearing with benches around it where people were beginning to gather, and a large camping-style tent just off to the side. 

several children from the nearby school came to see what was happening

We were introduced to staff from several different organisations and local government officials, and one very kind woman agreed to translate for us.

being translated to

 There were several speeches given, all urging the attendees to go to the tent to have a free HIV test, testimonies from HIV positive people, and several role plays and songs all exemplifying the importance of knowing your HIV status. 

a silent rap in sign language - quite strange to watch

a local choir singing about HIV

one of the role plays depicting how a couple should deal with HIV

a poem about AIDS accompanied by the odd instrument he is sitting on - you pull a string inside and it sounds a bit like a didgeridoo  

a local dance and theatre group

We went to the tent at one point to see how many people were having their tests done - they seemed to have a steady stream going in and out. Oliver let us accompany him into the tent as he had his test done: they pricked his finger with a tiny sterile needle, sucked the drop of blood into a little tube and squeezed it out onto a paper which indicated in 15 minutes whether the person had contracted HIV or not. Oliver was fortunately negative - on enquiring, he told us that he had the test done every year, just to check he was still in the clear, and every year he still felt blissfully lucky when so many others in the community were not so fortunate.

When we returned back into town, Lisa offered to have us over to her house for dinner. Excited at the prospect of not having another bran-flakes-and-banana dinner, we agreed, and so we ended up in Lisa's small town house; it is typical of the slightly more upper-class houses in Monze, with concrete walls and a corrugated iron roof. To say it is one of the better houses in Monze does not mean it is in any way comparable to any house in the UK - it still has gaps between the top of the walls and the roof, there is no storage anywhere, including a cupboard in the kitchen, and it is extremely small. Lisa sat us with the TV whilst she prepared dinner (one of her favourite pastimes after a long day is watching mindless shows) and we later sat down to a wonderful meal of pasta and tomato sauce with soya chunks (which I think are the same as tofu, or at least very similar). 

By the time we took our cue to leave, it was too dark to walk home so Lisa ordered us a taxi from her friend Vincent. It was only a short ride back, accompanied by an uplifting reggae soundtrack, and on arriving in our room we were feeling ready for bed. Life is never quite that simple however - we found two small cockroaches whilst getting ready for bed, and an enormous jumping brown spider. The cockroaches I had no bother with, but anyone who knows me will be aware that Eva had quite a job on her hands to single-handedly remove the spider. I went running down the guest house corridor to the kitchen to grab a glass, receiving a rather bemused look from the receptionist who was sat in the lobby, and returned with a tumbler with which Eva could trap the monster. She did, and on taking it through to the lobby, to put outside, asked the receptionist, 'Do these things bite?' (Nina had told us a horror story about how a large brown spider had once given her a nasty bite). However we never seem to get a straightforward response from anyone here: in reply to Eva's question, she simply looked mildly interested and said, 'Did you find that in your room?' Eva responded, slightly irritated, that of course she did - she hadn't produced it out of a hat. She threw the spider outside and walked back in again, and again asked if it would have bitten. The receptionist again asked whether we had found it in our room. 'YES,' Eva answered. 'Oh,' said the receptionist. 'I like your dress.'

Such is the manner of daily exchanges here.

We hope everyone has a lovely evening back home and elsewhere. Lots of love.