Fishing and Body Image Issues

Once back in action at Namumu it didn’t take long for disaster to strike one of our income-generating activities. A major storm hit the lake one night last week and jacked one of our boats up quite nicely. The wind pushed the Lucy boat up onto the shore of a nearby island. The pontoons beat up on the rocks repeatedly, puncturing one of them and allowing water to slowly seep in. Awesome. Welcome back to Africa, Sam. Here’s an emergency to deal with on day one in the office. Just awesome.

But you know what? It worked out just fine. Mubita, my right hand man in the fishing department, and I got back into our groove immediately. Between the two of us we got our boat towed back to the harbor quickly, before it sank, tracked down a mechanic from a nearby village to fix damage to the drive unit and arranged to get our welders and their bulky equipment out to the harbor. I spent most of my first day on duty calling and roaming around town, begging our neighboring fishing companies to let us borrow the equipment we need to make the repairs (I’m pretty sure I’m the only white beggar in Siavonga and maybe in all of Zambia and, man, I’ve got the routine down cold. I play the “we’re a struggling orphanage” card early and often). That very day we had the entire team working on the boat, and after two and a half days of repairs both boats were fixed up. They both fished last night. Boo ya.

I can’t stress enough how well Mubita continues to do in his role as fishing coordinator. This guy is still working his arse off. I returned to Siavonga to find that he had things running smoothly in my absence and had kept the records clear, detailed and accurate. I felt like a proud parent. I still haven’t quite gotten over the fact that he didn’t name his recently born son after me, but I still love him.

Otherwise, I’m assimilating well back into Zambian life. Although, I am having self-esteem issues again because everyone keeps telling me how fat I got in the US. I mean everyone. I know, I know, weight is viewed differently here and to them it’s not an insult and they mean I look healthy and blah blah blah blah. They are going to drive me to an eating disorder in the very near future.

Just kidding. I actually made a goal for myself to put on 20 pounds while back in the US and when I set a goal for myself I don’t mess around. A few Tuesdays at Hooters and Wednesdays at Five Guys and I cruised to victory. Unfortunately, my hard work may be for naught as I’m back on my fish/vegetable/bread diet. We’ll see.

Anyway, for me it’s back to the slow, quiet southern African way of life and it feels mighty fine.