This is what is called a "village" since it is not the city with paved roads.
Of course this is not the bush type of village that most Americans imagine. I believe there are plenty of those but we haven't left the big city of Lusaka yet.
This is fairly typical of the areas next to the city of Lusaka.
The market on the left was fairly quiet.
Here is Kristi with the Sisters who work in this area.
I was pretty timid with a camera this day. I just pop my little digital above the window sill of the truck and try to crop them later.
Those are flats of eggs outside the butcher shop.
Little stands like this are everywhere.
I have been here five weeks now and it is time for a haircut but I am a little afraid.
I suppose it shouldn't matter but I haven't seen a "real" barber for men in the city. The men here usually just have their heads shaved. Well, my top is already shaved and I sort of like a little fringe.
Here is the charcoal vendor.
This fellow was too cute and curious about us old white people in town.
More views of just the main street.
The market goes back for several lanes.
Here is a gal bending down while she adjusts her baby on her back. He will be tied on and ride quite comfortably. I was surprised to see her get a little help from a friend. These women do it all.
Plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables.
This was just outside the health clinic on main street. The sign says, "Breastfeed your baby exclusively for the first six 6 months".
Items are carried on heads everyday, everywhere. We finally bought a rug for our house. It is very thin and they folded it up for me to carry to the car. I carried it on my head and people didn't seem to notice much. I did catch the eye of a couple of women and asked how I was doing. They just laughed and I told them I would soon get the hang of it and carry everything that way.
I would never go in the Ladies and Girls Shop.
I have never seen an unhappy child. They just play, and to be honest it looks like fun to me too.
I've never heard a child cry in a store or seen one fussing to the parents.
The prices for white folks are usually at least double the local price. It is a prejudice that is more economic based rather than racial. They think every white person is rich. On a relative basis that is probably true.
These kids were very suspicious of us while we were in the truck but Kristi talked to them and they warmed up some.
This is the photo she got. See the box in front of Kristi.
Little brother was having a great time just rolling around in it and climbing in and out.
I am sure you are pretty much like me, hoping your kids and grandkids have a better life than you did.
Think about the best times you remember. Weren't they just SIMPLER times?
Actually, does it really matter what "things" you have, or "activities" you are enrolled in, when you can just hang out with the older brothers and sister and play in a cardboard box?