Ndiyo (main dish)

Americans all over the world and their families and friends have just celebrated the holiday of Thanksgiving, a time for reflecting on the blessings we've been given, often uniting with extended family and friends, and feasting on a LOT OF FOOD.


The Nyanja word for "food" is vakudya. And the Nyanja verb for "to eat" is kudya, so here's a sentence for you to practice: Nikudya vakudya ("I'm eating food").


But today we're talking about ndiyo, or "main dish." In Zambian English, ndiyo is translated as "relish," but "relish" in American English refers more to a condiment than to the real substance of what ndiyo means in Nyanja. Ndiyo can be chicken, beef, goat, or fish, or any of the myriad of amazing green leaves and other vegetables eaten in Zambia, or even insects! Ndiyo is the dish or dishes that are served next to the staple food, nshima (cornmeal paste), or rice.

Here's the story for the day:

In January 2009, Mathew and I took a trip to visit his family in the rural district of Petauke, in the Eastern Province of Zambia. He has a sister living there who is very industrious, farming with her husband, taking care of the household, and raising 4 children. Our accommodations were even more rustic than my time spent in a rural refugee camp. We slept on the floor of a mud-brick thatched-roof house, bathed using a bucket in an outdoor straw structure, and took a walk into nature in order to answer the call of nature, if you know what I mean.

I couldn't really communicate except through translation, because my sister-in-law, and most of Mathew's family there, do not speak English fluently. One day we decided to accompany my sister-in-law and brother-in-law to their fields to do some farming. The men were tilling the ground using cow power:

At first, I just watched, but then I decided to help my sister-in-law do some weeding. Mathew's younger brother, who is in high school, (a level not attained by Mathew's other siblings, giving one stronger knowledge of English and other subjects) was also with us. I asked him, "Should I pull out anything that isn't maize (corn)?" And he said "yes." So that is what I proceeded to do.

(BEWARE TRAVELLERS TO ZAMBIA AND FOREIGNERS RESIDING IN ZAMBIA: sometimes a person will reply with "yes," even though they haven't understood your question. If you're not sure if the person you're talking to is sure, ask follow-up questions! I have fallen into this trap several times.)

I pulled out EVERYTHING that I saw that wasn't corn, including a familiar leaf, chibwabwa, or pumpkin leaves, which are one of the common delicious dishes served in Zambia and completely underutilized in the USA. But, if these pumpkin leaves were getting in the way of the corn, by all means, let's get them out!

Half-an-hour or so later, my sister-in-law must have noticed my handiwork and approached me. "Ni ndiyo," she said. "That's food." Instantly, with my limited Nyanja knowledge, I knew she was telling me that I was pulling out precious "main dish" food, which is hard to come by at times in the village, but I did not have the vocabulary to respond to her or apologize to her. Although she didn't seem angry, I was slightly mortified, having been trying to act all cool, like I fit in with all the cool village subsistence farmers. After she and I collected as much chibwabwa as we could from what I had discarded in piles so that we could eat it for dinner, I sat down and sulked until it was time to go home.

We visited the village again this year, with a one-year-old Nzinzi, who gave me an excuse to hang out with the children, who I was less worried about impressing. That was more fun. Still, I hope next time I go to the village I'll get to participate in farming again - the right way, and hopefully my Nyanja* skills will be better, so I can have better dialogues with my family there!

Enjoy your ndiyo this holiday season!

*By the way, the language spoken in Petauke is actually Nsenga, which is related to Nyanja. I'd like to learn Nsenga, too, one day. But Nyanja is understood by many people all over Zambia, and often used as a common when talking to people from different areas, especially in Eastern Province and Lusaka. Many people in Petauke use Nyanja, instead of Nsenga, to try to communicate with me if they don't know English.

Zikomo (Thank you)

If you know anything about Nyanja, zikomo, is probably one of the first words you learned. It is not too hard to pronounce or remember, and it is very useful. Have you said "thank you" to anyone today?

Zikomo is useful for thanking people in Zambia, from the people you work with, to the taxi driver, to a stranger who helps you find your way, but did you know that zikomo also means "excuse me"?

Get more mileage out of a word you already know! (Or get double-usage for a new word, if you're new to Nyanja.)

Need the person in front of you to move so you can get off the minibus?

A tap on the shoulder and a soft "zikomo" will do.

Need to squeeze past the person buying tomatoes so you can go and buy the last cupfull of kapenta?

"Zikomo" is your ticket.

Want to get back in front of the person who just squeezed in front of you in line at the post office?

Give "zikomo" a try.

In the USA, we're coming up on the Thanksgiving holiday, celebrated with family gatherings and LOTS of food. Its also a time of reflection to think about what we are thankful for and to GIVE THANKS for it. This year, I'm thankful for my family and friends, and my new job, and how wonderful it is to be a mom. I'm not sure what sort of feast is going to take shape in the Tembo household of DeKalb, Illinois, USA, but we can be happy to have food and to have each other.

When I was in Zambia, far away my motherland, I created a couple of Thanksgiving feasts with my new friends and family there. In 2005, in Meheba refugee settlement, when going around the table and asking what people were thankful for, it was truly mind-opening to hear from my friend Rachel, an orphan who had been through a lot and had plenty of reasons to be simply thankful for life.

Here are some pictures from the Lusaka Thanksgiving of 2007. Guests included my soon-to-be husband and his sister and her friend and some of my friends, refugees from Congo, Sudan, and Angola. These guys were in school at the time, and now they've all moved on to bigger and better things. Most, in fact, have returned to their homelands and are re-starting their lives, armed with eductation and more than their share of life experiences. Some of them are probably reading this blog, too. (What's up, guys? Keep up the good work!)

Zikomo, everybody! Thanks for being my friends, and thanks for reading this blog!

Zikomo = thank you, or excuse me

Kapenta = small type of fish, popular in Zambia

And here's one for Thanksgiving:

Zikomo pali vokudya vamene mwani pasa. = Thank you for the food. (Literally, Holly-approximate-translation, "Thank you for the food, the way that that gave it me.")

P.S. Zikomo to all of my African-Facebook-Nyanja-advisors for recent posts: Joe, Nicholas, Wajenda and Victor (and anyone else who I've forgotten!) And of course, my live-in Nyanja advisor, Mathew.

Niyenda na mendo (I'm walking)

Commuters in Lusaka, Zambia get to work in a variety of ways. Some drive cars, some take taxis, but I think the majority walk, or take a bus.

When I was working in Zambia, I used each of these means of transportation, but my commute almost always involved some walking, whether it was walking to the bus stop, or when I was rushing, walking to the taxi rank. Walkers in Lusaka are almost never lonely, especially during "rush hour." I remember living Northmead and having the sides of the streets completely conjested with commuters. Often, you'll see someone you know and have a chance for a smile, a handshake, and an exchange of greetings that could make you late for work... "Muli bwanji (How are you?) ... Mwadiela? (How's life?) ... Kunyumba kulibwanji? (How's everything at home?)... ATembo ati bwanji?" (How's Tembo?) ... and so on...

Here are some pictures from this morning, from the commute of our Lusaka corresspondent, Print/Photo/Video Journalist, Jorrit Meulenbeek. (Check out HIS blog here if you'd like to try reading some Dutch.)

They are in the middle of rainy season, as you can see.

I've recently been hired as an Administrative Assistant at Northern Illinois University, where my husband* is going to school. (Yes, thank you! So happy to be employed!)

We live near campus, so on most days, niyenda na mendo kunchito (I walk to work). I don't see ANYONE else walking when I walk to work! Today I saw one bicyle rider, one person walking to a bus stop, and a handful of cars driving. I miss streets full of people! I also miss the warm weather. This morning it was 34 degrees Fahrenheit. (That's almost 0 degrees celcius!)

I posted on Facebook yesterday asking for pictures of people's morning commutes. Minutes later, I got Good Magazing posted THIS link:

http://www.good.is/post/day-15-document-your-commute-30daysofgood/

I guess great minds think alike!

Kuyenda: "to walk" or "to go"

Niyenda: "I walk", "I go"

Kuyenda na mendo: "To go on foot" (to emphasize the "on foot" definition of kuyenda). (Literal translation = "I walk with legs.")

Happy commuting!

(Whether its to work, school, visit friends, to occupy some sort of space, or to look for employment, or wherever you may be going!)