Dealing with Frustrations

Dealing with frustrations

Having my family here in general (both mom and em, and tess and dad a couple months ago) gave me a new sense of joy and an ability to look at some of the things that I’ve gotten frustrated at with a kind of new, more patient eye. Oh, it’s just ZAMBIA! It’s ok! For example, Mom and Em and I got stuck on a bus (the company from before that has the slogan “safety first, arrive alive”) that told us they were going to Lusaka. Then at 2 o’clock in the morning, three hours (at least) north of Lusaka they said “oh, THIS bus isn’t going to Lusaka, but the one that is will be here in 15 minutes!” Well, at least 30 minutes later, a very full bus showed up and the 15-20 of us from the first bus squished in. Between the first row of seats and the windshield I counted 15 people and just prayed that we would arrive alive. We did and we even got in on time and made our flight down to Linvingstone, but I sometimes I just don’t understand why Zambians put up with that. If they paid for ticket why don’t they demand their money back when the bus is so absurd and ridiculous?! Crowded, late, the driver’s rude…

But it was also difficult though to try to convey some of the things that I DO feel like I’ve worked hard on and just still aren’t working. Another example, I’ve worked with a woman in town a bunch who works with women’s groups and sells their goods. She’s amazing. She knows how to work with women, she knows how to facilitate, she speaks English and is just a kind and generous person. She also makes almost no money and she and her employees function on no salaries. I’ve worked with her a lot to try to get her business more organized and it just seems like no matter how times I give her instructions she can’t follow them – she just can’t seem to get them right and her business suffers because of it. How do I change that? Is it me or is it her? What am I doing wrong in how I explain the situation? Does she just not WANT it enough to make herself understand? Our latest joke was that she’d set a price for one of her products and when my mom wanted to buy one she asked ME how much they cost. “It’s your business!” I joked “how much DO they cost?!”

That sense of frustration came up today in a conversation I was having with a guy who is up here in Mpika doing some research for Unicef. He asked what the hardest thing for me is here. I’ve said in the past that it’s trying to do the work here alone. I mean it’s not that I’m alone exactly – I have Zambian co-workers and other Peace Corps Volunteers – but my chief job does kind of seem to be one of a motivator. But, today I said that the hardest thing is trying to find the people who are the movers and shakers – the people who WILL get things done. I’ve spent the last year working on trying to set up a youth group here in my village and after working with a young man for all of that last year – taking him to Lusaka, trying to teach him how to prepare and teach lessons, trying to find other people to help him – I finally just feel like he doesn’t REALLY care. He doesn’t want to make this a priority in his life and he doesn’t want to show up to meetings when it means skipping something else.

Part of me feels so unbelievably frustrated, why did I waste so much time, and even some money, on him? And part of me feels like “Well, it’s his village. When I’m done here, it’s still up to him to face these issues and I’ve tried.” Is it dangerous or just real to get to that point? I know it’s real to get to the point that you realize that there are people who just can’t make things happen, but at what point can I tell myself that it’s ok to give up? That this just isn’t the person who will take a project to a new level? That development has to be HIS problem, THEIR problem too if it’s going to get any better?

Back to transport for second, the ridiculous transport situations that many Zambians will put up with AND pay for always surprises me and often makes me angry. On the bus when I was so frustrated the conductor turned to me and asked “Muli shani?” (How are are you?). Angrily I glared at him and said “not good, thank you!” He turned to the woman next to me and asked “muli shani?” to which SHE responded that she was fine. I looked at her in shock. Why don’t you TELL him OFF?! And then realized I failed Zambia test number 1 – things are always fine, they aren’t as bad as they COULD be, and we were on the bus and moving. What more did I want for heaven’s sake?!

Along the same lines it took me and Prince 8 hours to get from Kasama, where the Peace Corps House is, to Mpika on Saturday. We sat on the side of the road trying to catch a ride for 4 hours and then paid to get squished in the back of covered pickup with 6 other people and a huge metal BAR and to break down and take 4 hours to go 210 kilometers. I was cranky and annoyed, wanted my money back, wanted to be comfortable. But when we got into Mpika and were trying to decide whether to walk the hour to my house and jump in a cab for 5 minutes a friend passed. He had petrol and said he drop us at my house for free. I sighed and told him our exhausting story and he said “well, you’re here. That’s all the matters.” It’s true. We were there, alive, ready to cook dinner and go to bed, if exhausted and sore and, at that point, that was all that mattered. And that he was kind enough to give us a ride.

This kind of attitude, as always, seems to have a good side and a bad. The lack of frustration and anger that the Zambians I interact with seem to have, the patience, is beautiful. I hope I can bring that back with me. It’s sort of a zen acceptance of the world and its faults. Yet, (is it the American in me?) sometimes I think you HAVE to get angry at things. Doesn’t the world change because someone decides “this is unacceptable and I am going to change it!”? Where does that come from? How do you create that? Should we? Is creating that here changing this society? Or did colonialism kind of create a sense of acceptance because there WAS no alternative?