Ryan Reynolds Mania, a New Friend and Collusion

The Namumu computer training program is going well, though the kids’ progress is often slow and it’s often very, very frustrating. Sometimes I wonder if we’re just wasting our time teaching these kids a skill they’re never going to be able to use in their rural-dwelling lives. But you know what? The more I think about it, the more I think it might actually pay off. There aren’t a lot of computers around in rural Zambia at the moment, but maybe there will be someday soon. After all, almost everyone has a cell phone out here these days. Even the poorest families usually have at least one person with a cell phone. Maybe someday soon everyone will have a computer and our kids will be ahead of the game and will be able to score a job with their skills, typing or repairing or whatever. You never know. We’ll keep plugging away just in case.

So far, two 14 year old girls, Vivian and Florence, are my superstars. At this point they can type faster than most of the adults working in the Namumu office. It’s impressive. Lately I’ve been giving them copies of People magazine and Entertainment Weekly that my mother sent me and I’m having them re-type the articles they read. The “Sexiest Man Alive” edition of People caused quite a stir for a few girls and led to a number of heated debates over who was better looking than whom. I was and am a staunch supporter of Johnny Depp. The girls love Ryan Reynolds. Love, love, love him. It’s awful. Just awful.



The next time I’m feeling like I’m getting the short end of the stick in life I’m going to think about my new friend Kristin. Kristin is a lady of around 40 who lives nearby and stops by the clinic to chat with Saviour and me every now and then. She’s a real sweetheart and has become a real good friend of mine.

Kristin has HIV. Her husband has TB. They live in a small hut nearby and they are very poor. As if that wasn’t enough to deal with, one of their children is deaf and dumb, I recently found out. Getting an education and even just surviving is hard enough for most completely healthy kids in Zambia. I can’t imagine what it’s like for that kid.

Kristin seems to be taking everything in stride. Fortunately, for many in Siavonga these days, being diagnosed with HIV is not longer a death sentence. She’s getting ARVs from the hospital in town and is taking them daily. She’s doing her best to stay healthy. She’s hanging in there.

If you’re looking for someone to pray for this week, pray for Kristin and her family. Pray that her husband can find a better job. Pray that she stays healthy. And pray that her child can find a way to make something of himself and live a happy life.



We had a pretty good fishing month last month with net profits somewhere around US$1,500, not too shabby for a small fishing company in the midst of a time where all companies on Lake Kariba are experiencing low catches. It’s helped that our selling prices have gone up lately. Last year around this time we were selling a 20kg bag of kapenta for ZMK400,000 (about US$85). Now, each bag is selling at ZMK600,000 (about US$130). One of the reasons the prices are higher is that the supply is low all across the country. Like I said, all companies are catching poorly. Another reason is that Mubita and I have led a collusion charge at the harbor, gathering up the owners of our neighboring companies on a weekly basis and setting the prices as high as we think we can, based on the prices we hear reported from Zambia’s big cities. The local traders we sell to complain a lot more these days, but it doesn’t faze us. They’re making a living. We’re making money to support orphans and vulnerable children, so we run those prices right up and don’t think twice. Mubita and I ain’t messin’ around no mo’. No siree.

Well, that’s about it for now. I’m trying to arrange a goat slaughtering for Christmas, so if that goes down I’ll be sure to describe it in graphic detail for you all very soon. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas. Enjoy Scrooged without me, Lyles and Crosses. Maybe I’ll catch you next year.