Chuck Norris No More

An interesting shift occurred recently without my realizing it.

It all became apparent as I was strolling through the streets of Lusaka last week. Edwin Luneta, the Namumu Finance Manager, Zenzo, Namumu’s Assistant Accountant, and I were there to take care of a few items of business. They were submitting a quarterly report to a big Namumu donor organization and I was renewing Namumu’s fishing license.

As we walked here and there throughout the city something very strange happened. My hair is a bit longer now and my beard a bit bushier and this time, for the first time, not one person called my Chuck Norris. No, no, they all called me something else. This time I heard, “Hey! It’s Jesus!” no fewer than 10 times. No joke.

The strange thing is that it wasn’t a slow shift from one name to the other. I mean, I would have anticipated that maybe the number of people shouting that I look like Chuck Norris would slowly decline and the number of people shouting that I look like Jesus would slowly increase. No, it was a sudden shift from one to the other.

So, as I see it, somewhere along the line I instantaneously transformed from looking like Chuck Norris to looking like Jesus (or, at least, what people in Zambia think that Jesus looked like).

Go figure.

I’ve got to say, one thing I’m very much enjoying about my life in Zambia is the opportunity it has afforded me to, for the most part, show a blatant disregard for my outward appearance.

Namumu is in a very rural area. Needless to say, most of the people in the surrounding villages don’t put too much effort into getting dolled up every morning. Most everyone’s wardrobe options are pretty limited. It’s common to see people wearing the same shirt every day, or to rotate between two outfits every other day. This isn’t true for everyone, there are definitely some sharp dressers, but it’s true for a good number.

So, all this goes to say that I can get away with looking like crap some of the time and that makes me happy.

But don’t worry, folks, I keep myself put together for the most part. Esther Namuyamba (Munjongo’s wife) makes sure of that. She gives me a hard time if my hair isn’t combed or if my pants are dirty. Some days when I know I’m looking skuzzy and I see her coming I have to duck around the corner so she won’t see me. But don’t tell her I said that.

So, there you have it, apparently my appearance has changed quite a bit since I’ve been here. I can only imagine what they’ll be calling me in Lusaka if I’m still here walking around a few months from now…