When I was living/traveling in Ecuador I felt it a little bit, but I definitely feel it here in Zambia. The automatic connection to someone because they are an American. I don’t think it is due to speaking the same language (even though it probably plays a part) there are plenty of people who speak English in my village. I think it’s because of a shared culture. People I probably wouldn’t be friends with back in the States I have found myself becoming friends with them when I travel.

The conversation is more at ease when you are speaking with someone who you share the same cultural upbringing. You don’t have to worry about doing the proper greetings, they understand your bad jokes, they eat similar foods to you and wear the same style of cloths.

I have a better understanding why immigrant and refugee communities back home often stick together. It’s not about wanting to change the country that you are in. It’s that when you’re living in a different way than you’re used to, constantly sounded by that difference and trying to respect it, understand it, and fit in. It’s nice sometimes to be with people from the same culture, where you don’t always have to be trying. Zambian women, especially in the village, really wear pants and don’t wear dresses above their knees. It gets a little old feeling restricted by your clothing choices.

This is one of the reason why have a Peace Corps Provincial house (prov house) is so nice. When I’m at the prov house I’m real risqué and don’t wear leggings under my dresses the hits two inches ABOVE the knee (the whole room gasps). After I change into my fleewsy outfits I usually just chill with other volunteers. Never in the States while eating dinner, or watching tv, have I ever thought “I’m so glade to be sharing this culture right now” but that does cross my mind when at the prov house.

Every volunteer is allowed to spend 4 days a month at the prov house (volunteers are supposed to be working 24/7 we don’t get the weekends off to go places). We can use this time to do work on the house computers, do research online or in the little library, and/or just hangout. I was told that most other Peace Corps countries don’t have prov houses. Zambia gets them because it has one of the largest amount of volunteers and it’s volunteers live the most rural.

During the three months of Community Entry you don’t receive the 4 prov house days. However, my intake was lucky enough to be able to go to the house twice. Once for immigration (there was a mess up on our visas, this usually doesn’t happen) and another for what we call Provs. Provs is a semiannual meeting each provincial house holds in June and November.

Every volunteer in the Province makes the great migration to the house, and a staff person from Lusaka, for two days of meeting. On the last night there is always a themed party. Being in Central Province our theme this Provs naturally was Central Intelligence. We had a spy themed party where everyone dressed up and played a murder mystery game set in the Cold War Era. Everyone had a blast acting out their characters trying to find who the killer is while also complete the secret task we were given. I got too distracted (I know shocking) trying to sell missile plans to the Russians to figure out who the killer was. I know what you’re thinking, there is no way in 2017 that someone from the US government (technically volunteers are) would be colluding with Russia. Having Provs was such a nice break from the village life.

I think the shared culture thing in a different country is one reason why volunteer make fast friends. Even though I really enjoy all the volunteers I’ve meet in Central, it is kinda sad to be away from the people in my intake. The RAP people I came in with are spread out a crossed 5 of Zambias provinces, and Central received the least. Our intake became pretty close and is one of the only to make it through Pre-Service Training without having anyone ET (early terminate/leave). Unfortunately during Community Entry we have had our first person ET.

I would never judge someone for ETing. Things can be very difficult in the Peace Corps. You’re away from friends and family and all the comforts of home. You’re alone in a village in a different culture. You don’t have running water or electricity and everything takes forever to do with out it.

Even with awesome supportive friends and family back home and a great host family it can be hard. I have had times where I have cried. Actually, I just had one the other day. I was trying to get my fire started to warm my water for my morning jungle oats (oatmeal) and coffee and the fire just wouldn’t start. I put more kindle in, fanned it, lit it again and again and nothing happened. I was so annoyed I stomped inside and made myself some cold jungle oats. Then I sat down and cried while eating them. I looked totally ridiculous being a grown woman crying into her jungle oat (my tears didn’t even warm the oats up, total BS). At this point I’m totally used to sucking at starting a fire, for whatever reason that day it got to me. I don’t even have room to complain, my family gets all my firewood and water, but still …(pause for dramatic effect) …. I cried.

Well, I’ve always heard it’s best to leave things nice and depressing. So I’ll end my post here, now go cry into some food!