Worlds Colliding

I have been living with my host family for 1.5 weeks now.  We live in the small village of Mboole about 3km of walking and then 50km by minibus to the town of Choma which is the bustling service centre to all of the surrounding villages.  The family is large by North American standards with 2 parents 2 daughters, 2 sons and a grand daughter all under one roof.  From what I've heard this is a small family by Zambian standards but its certainly not out of the ordinary in that there are lots of little kids around all the time.
Last Saturday I was commissioned by my host parents to make a Canadian dish for them for dinner.   I choose spaghetti.   I figured that because it is by far the meal that i most frequently make for my self so that was enough to make it Canadian.  So anyway off to Choma I went to buy ingredients for my dinner.  Choma is a mixture of open markets selling locally made goods and South African owned shops selling western style brands and products.  Western culture is slowly being transported from South Africa through the trucking veins and arteries and to Choma where it slowly diffuses to the previously untouched surrounding villages.  But to get the ingredients for my Western meal I have to submit to the big South African grocery chain SPAR.  The rest of our meals consists of Nshima (a yellow paste made of corn meal) with chicken, Nshima with cabbage, Nshima with beans and occasionally rice. My family usually makes a weekly trip to Choma for meetings and grocery shopping but they are for the most part able to buy local for their meals.
During the ride home from Choma I look out the window and see some women carrying jugs of water on their heads past mud and straw homes.  As my host mother sends a text message on her cell phone the radio infuses my ears with Western pop songs.  Suddenly Shania Twain comes blaring through the speakers.  My two worlds are colliding.