Dear,
I returned just over a week in Zambia and I could tell you about what green is all over the country, because the rainy season, or the muggy heat that surrounds us, or the kindness of people and warm welcome back they gave me. The time to write, at least until I will not have a decent internet, however, is little.
It 'been a busy week and now I feel as if I had woken from a dream only lasted a few hours and almost 6 months. Everything is almost the same, and it is wonderful to note that some feelings were soothed only and were not missing.
But to give you an idea of \u200b\u200bwhat it is almost tangible to work here, which are also cultural challenges that I faced almost daily, here's a guide to a semi-official meeting that I and my colleague Lucy we had the week ago and that made me think: "Oh yes, I'm back in Zambia."
Thursday we met one of the highest political office of one of the District (Region) of the project where I work, a sort of regional governor, a local Formigoni. Upload politically appointed and not elected by the citizens. Please note this detail, it will be important later.
Lucia, before entering, tells me that the character is to be taken lightly. It does not add much more, and already I care.
arrive in front of his office and the secretary is not there. We welcome a guy who announces to us and makes us enter.
Inside of the room is "rising" (even if it is lying on a couch) Brucaliffo a kind of bearded, barefoot and in a suit to "The Sting", but not to be cool like Robert Redford or Paul Newman.
He apologizes for being barefoot: "I've got blisters," is justified.
course was scratching his feet and stops just to give me a warm handshake. And we, in Europe there imparanoiamo with your hands and rub with the Amuchina fear H1N1. Babies who we are!
We sit in the background while in the office sofa usually echo the voice of Radio Mazabuka that crackles and sometimes covers our voices.
As he peels off the toes (this time without apology), I begin to introduce myself, to tell you how happy I am to meet him, how beautiful, etc. will work together.
let me talk, and then watching Lucy: "You told him that I want to go to Italy?". And down to list all the places on earth where he lived: Cape Town, Windhoek, China etc..
"But now I come to Italy, we are the best players in the world, even if it's cold." And
away with a very learned disquisition on the difference between tactics in Brazil and Italy, concluding: "The Brazilians are strong because they have roots in Angola and Mozambique, as the French, who play in the national team and they are all just speak French blacks too. You Italians rather just play with people of your country is not it? "
There was no need to discuss with him about the concept of citizenship, of course, or who do not look like Zico and Kaká of Mozambique, rather than My father, who speaks French, could never be selected to play with Zidane.
While this surreal dialogue progressed, it continued to get people stopping smoothly, while he has received 20 calls in 10 minutes, continuing to scratch the soles of the feet. If you had to do something, like turn off the radio, shouting the name of Schiavetto out of the door, entered and ran off the radio. But do not you get up, eh?
After telling us that the son of a minister would be interested in working for us, that we should meet at a time when official (read: pay me lunch) at the end of the project would willingly come to Italy, ended with these exact words:
"In 2006 I submitted to the elections but the people I voted - because who knows, I might add - then fortunately in 2008 the President has chosen me directly and now I'm here. "
And, pleased, he has restricted his hand vigorously and there we are laid off.
TIA This Is Africa, one more time.
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