A Week in Lusaka

My first week in this country has been far from the sleepy African rising I expected. It’s been intense and interesting, and I feel like there’s a lot more to come.

I arrived to monsoon-style rains; a waterfall outside my window. The air is thick here – 98% humidity today – and it’s an effort to be outside…a mark of the superior power of nature in Africa. The city is not crowded and cramped like Kampala or Delhi, it’s more American than anything else – wide roads and thick greenery, it’s almost impossible to navigate without a car. But there (during the day, at least) an inherent friendliness in the air. Few people walk past without smiling; most say hello. The Zambian people are disarmingly friendly and forthcoming, and expect the same of you. Before engaging in conversation with anyone, even if it’s to buy a bottle of water or ask the time, it’s important to say hello and ask them how they are. It’s rude to be in a rush. As you can imagine, I have some adjusting to do.

My first day in the office was an interesting one. While visiting the main UN building, Tom (my boss) and I walked past a lean six foot one Zambian women, dressed in an alarming yellow Gucci suit, with matching six inch heels and full make up, touting an incongruously blue UN badge. I found myself thinking that my expectations of the UN bureaucrats I would be working with may have been slightly misplaced. I was later told that the woman was the reigning Miss Zambia (see right). She volunteers for the UN’s World Food Programme…

I am now the proud wearer of a UNDP badge, and have my own retro but airy office amongst several floors of development workers in the UN building. My project kicked off on Thursday and I am unashamedly and almost childishly excited about it. I am working with the Association of Microfinance Institutes Zambia (AMIZ), leading a project that aims to design a low risk way of financing small and medium businesses in Zambia. The aim is to drive fast and healthy economic growth among local suppliers, and they are very dedicated to achieving this goal. I’ve started working with them on a personal basis, and I can feel that I’m already helping, just through using the standard knowledge and discipline that I’ve gained in consulting. But I also feel like going to I’m learn so much; even in these few days I’ve started to talk to people who’ve been doing this job a while and absorbing the realities of development work in Africa. It’s been a long time since my job was this rewarding.

I’ve found a flat already, which is in the centre of town and opposite one of the favourite local pubs, the Smuggler’s Inn. It’s dark but welcoming, and a good place to hang out if you can avoid the women of the night that try and attract punters on the way out. I move in on February the sixth, and can’t wait – I’m staying in the five star Taj hotel at the moment, and its sheer luxury is burdening me with guilt. Don’t worry though – I’m not letting it get me down.

The week has been unexpectedly busy in terms of social events – I’ve been to Tom’s beautiful house for dinner, the Dutch Ambassadors even more beautiful house for his annual drinks party, and to Smuggler’s Inn for a ‘Boys Night’ with a group of ex pats. The foreign development workers here seem to be a tight crowd, but very warm and accepting. I feel like I will make plenty of friends. I even met a Canadian girl on the plane over, Laura, who works in a school just west of the city and has been the perfect companion to explore Lusaka with.

But despite my fairly active week, I can already feel myself unwinding and detoxing from the neo-mentalist peacelessness of London. I am forcing myself to spend time alone, relaxing, reading, meditating. It’s easier in this city; in this friendly, quiet town. And this stillness is making me happy. I’m sure that in about two weeks I’ll be dying to get back to the east side for some sleazy glitchcore electro. But for now, the sound of the crickets is enough.