Did someone spit in my sandwich?

I'm still in Zambia. 

The whine, whine & moan section:

I am in a hotel (or possibly in a country) with a very fickle internet connection. Sometimes, like right now at 8AM, the connection is perfect, and other times getting beyond the Facebook sign in page seems to be too big of a task. Combine this with a hotel room television set the size of my fist and you'll have an inkling of the pain this brings. Argh! Am I supposed to, like, not have any, like, distractions, or what? Like. 

My South African cell phone sim-card doesn't work here. I recently found out that this is because I don't have 'international roaming' in my contract. Hmph - this is just another way for the South African government/MTN to not see me as an adult, not have trust in me, and to supposedly make sure that I am unable to rack up a bill too big to pay. There is a limitation of R600 or something of sort in my contract already, so I fail to see the problem, but whatever. 

I seem to have caught the flu the hubby had. I'm pretty sure I would have kicked it already if I wasn't drinking the house red wine all the time. Sporting a sore throat and a runny nose that miraculously go away at night leaving me free to enjoy the wine, but return with a vengeance in the morning. Well, I guess this one I'll have to pin on my own stupid, borderline alcoholic self. Also, I am aware of the bad decision that having four cups of coffee in the morning instead of herbal tea is, if one is out to beat the flu. Again, all me.

The room service has gotten our order wrong four nights in a row, and we have complained thus possibly angering some of the poor staff (it's not all their fault, the hubby can't pronounce 'vegetable'). Every night then we wait for something while the rest of the food gets cold on the table. And it is not that great to begin with, even when it's hot. 

Yesterday, as I was hanging out at the hotel bar, where the internet seems a little better, and really felt the urgent need for some rooibos-tea, I did not get service for a whole whopping 35 minutes. I ill-advisedly complained, prompting the entire staff to now harangue me with constant good service. However, I'm also plagued by suspicions of them either spitting or possibly wanking off in my sandwich, or my latte. But that stuff only happens in the States, hey?

Everyone keeps calling me ma'am, which is depressing, since I'm only thirty.

I'm too sick and it might be just a tiny bit too cold to hang out by the pool.

There is a through and through Texan at the hotel who considers me one of his compatriots. Ya'll.

 

End of whine, whine & moan. Beginning of the section titled: 

This is a Flippin Awesome Country

Zambia is safe and sunny (I'm told SA has gotten cold since I've been gone). 

The internet at the hotel is included in the room price, and so is breakfast. 

I love, and I mean LOVE, bacon and banana on whole wheat, which they serve at this cool cafe in one of the malls. 

Lattes in this country rock.

I have been able to go everywhere without my cell phone, which for me, coming from the land of Nokia and not really being able to remember a time before cell phones (when I was a kid my dad had a phone the battery of which took up the whole trunk of the car), is a very liberating experience.  

Being sick here with the hubby now taking care of me beats being sick by myself at home. One might argue that had I not come I would not have gotten sick in the first place, but I refuse to go there.

People here call me ma'am instead of sir, which often happens in South Africa. I know I have a haircut, that even my hairdresser calls a 'boy cut' (boycott, ha ha. Too sick to make a proper joke), but I'm still fairly feminine, especially since I got my eyebrows and eyelashes dyed. 

There is a through and through Texan at the hotel who considers me one of his compatriots. His jeans are far too tight and his shirt far too Dallas. Love it! He also has very interesting facial hair.

Sometime last month I found a blog called Zambia Express, written by two Brits living in Lusaka. I wrote to them asking what they thought I should see and do in Lusaka, since Lonely Planet wasn't too big of a help, and the cool expats that they are Jo and Kieron actually went above and beyond and came up with a whole itinerary for a week in Lusaka. How cool! As soon as I feel up to it, I'll be off sightseeing, eating, drinking and partying per instructions. I can be such a charter tourist sometimes. Snicker!

Also, I have actually been writing something besides e-mails (which I don't really do unless we are talking a letter of complaint) and this blog. It's a bit off the wall, and I'm missing an ending, but it's also pretty good. I think. Hurrah!