And what do you know, the first day back in America, where did we go? Garage sales! Welcome to the USA, land of lots of easily accessible cheap junk! (Or treasure, depending how you look at it.) We actually did enjoy browsing through the salaula (second hand items), and realizing that we can get some things here easily that were harder to obtain in Lusaka. But it put up a red flag in my mind: Now that we've just downsized our worldly belongings, lets try not to re-stock on things we don't necessarily need.
A few months later, we moved from my mother's house in Pittsburgh, and all the family support that went along with it, to DeKalb, Illinois, a rural University town where we didn't know anyone. Coming from Lusaka, a busy city with very accessible public transportation, we did not foresee the need of having a car before coming here. Luckily, we found an apartment near the university and a bus line going to a shopping area. (Although there is literally NO public transport OUTSIDE of this town, apart from 2 five hour windows per week.)
Needless to say, we had to get creative, African-creative at times, to get some things done.
Bicycles in the US are often used for recreational purposes, but Mathew, with his $5 salaula bike from that first day in America, and me with my family-hand-me-down bike, and Nzinzi with her bike-seat, have been using them for utilitarian purposes.
One of the things that always fascinated me about Zambia was the incredible things people could carry on bicycles, for instance: a large adult-sized live pig; or a 4 meter high stack of bags of charcoal; or the entire family (one kid in front of peddling Dad, mom behind, sitting on the carrier, with a baby tied to her back).
Here are some examples of the katundu that people carry on bicycles in Zambia, courtesy of ace photographer, Ian Hanover:
My Illinois-katundu never got that extensive, but I have definitely mastered the art of carrying myself, Nzinzi, and 10 shopping bags on my bike. Talk about a leg workout!
Here we are this summer, BEFORE going to the store:
(How spoiled Nzinzi is with her fancy American bike-seat and helmet!)
When I haven't feel like pedalling, we have also carried our grocery store katundu on buses, getting it from the bus stop to the house by hanging bags on the baby stroller and using Nzinzi as a counter-weight. (What a helpful girl!)
When you have a car, you don't think about katundu that much. If you have something bulky to take from point A to point B, you just put it in the car and go. A lot of Zambians have cars, but MOST Zambians don't, so katundu is something you see a lot. Ever ridden a minibus? People get on their with multiple big baskets, boxes, bags, and depending on the area, even animals. I have used this form of public transportation in Zambia for years, and it still hasn't lost its charm. Especially on long-distance buses, katundu can fill up more of the bus than people do, overhead, on laps, under the bus, in the aisles! (With driver, conductor and passengers, crossing their fingers that the bus doesn't get stopped by police.)
Nzinzi has a great children's book called "Tap-Tap" which documents the excitement of getting everyone and their luggage onto a small truck for the commute home from a day at the market. Although set in Haiti, it mirrors our minibus experiences in Zambia. (For more information on the book, click here.)
For those of you with cars, enjoy the blessing! And hopefully we will be joining your ranks soon. For those of you without cars, who have to creatively carry your katundu, God bless you. And enjoy the good company (if you're in Africa), or the funny looks you may get (if you're in DeKalb, Illinois)! And don't forget, you're getting your exercise!
As an end-note, in my research for this post, I have been informed that there is an alternate meaning for katundu, which I prefer not to discuss on my family-friendly blog. Please ask a Zambian friend about this innuendo. :-)
Vocabulary:
katundu (pr. kah-TOON-doo) = luggage
katundu (pr. kah-TOON-doo) = luggage
salaula (pr. sah-lah-OO-lah) = second hand goods (usually clothes)
