Blah blah blah

Oh, what of Lusaka… in my holy shit, I have malaria state (No worries, I don't!), I let myself indulge in thinking about the gathering of foreigners/expats/whatever we call ourselves.

There's something about inability to classify relationships here. How exactly does someone like me become friends with a middle-aged gem dealer/lion hunter/aspiring surfer. I have a feeling the relationship is unequal because I can only manage one slash tops in my description. I not sure what Western context would allow such an interaction to take place. Sometimes unlikely, but highly entertaining friendships just form. Some of them last a week. Some for a little bit longer unless the person leaves. And, some enter a zone of we're just here together. The people who are here for a while, but not staying forever are the ones that save me from sinking into actual despair because regardless what our jobs are, we all face the same frustrations. Who you are, what you've done in your past life, and even what you do now, do not really matter. On a very basic level, it is about two foreigners being able to relate on Western terms in a place where some days you feel like you haven't communicated with anyone. 

What is it about expats being drawn to other expats. Even though I'm hardly sure if I have any true Zambian friends, I still think that genuine friendship can still form over cultural divides. I have plenty of Zambian acquaintances through work. It is always a pleasure to speak with parents and teachers. The gardeners and fruit sellers around my office are wonderful. They notice everything. It's kind of scary, stalker-like, but thoughtful at the same time. I got an extra banana from the fruit seller who hadn't seen me for a week. I also have the amazing opportunity to work with some rural communities and it is always impressive how much communication can happen with very little words. Greeting by clasping my hands a few times and slightly bowing (actually more just knee bending) earns me uncanny respect and even more underserved authority. Then, there is satisfaction of finally understanding a snippet of Zambian humour. Even with the glimmer of connecting with people, I want more.

What I want are conversations that are meaningful on Western standards. Is that selfish? Outside of discussions for work, I don't think I've managed to get past "how are you?" I often feel my brain humming away trying to come up with things to keep a conversation going. Are there any more ways to ask a question to incite any kind of response? Is there a perspective that may make this discussion easier? I'm not making much effort these days in learning the local language, but even so I think there is a depth of conversation I can never reach. So, at the end of the day anyone who understands me even a little bit is good company. I don't have to edit out humour and sarcasm (and swearing) that may not translate. It seems that when expats get together, especially those working in development, we are using each other to connect with the things that we miss. I know I miss those insanely long conversations where every little point is analysed to no end. Coming home after a long frustrating day of work and being able to have a familiar conversation feels like leaning into a hug. To have someone put their arms around you and make you feel safe, so that for a moment, you can just let everything go. As much as I avoid being a full participant in the Lusaka expat social scene, from time to time I know I need interactions for which I have a frame of reference.