We all packed up and left Nkhata Bay at 6 a.m. Monday morning, September 1st. I got back to my village Friday evening, September 5th. That's African transport for you in a nutshell. :)
Following a week of in-service traning in Lusaka, a group of us headed east to Lake Malawi. We all split up and basically said, 'meet ya there!'. It felt a little like rat race at times when we would see eachother on the road, knowing that the few you just passed on the side of the road had every chance of passing you up later in the day. But the Gods of hitch-hiking were smiling on Kai, Davy, and me because we ended up getting a sweet ride with a couple German World Bank guys who drove us all the way from a big bridge in the eastern province of Zambia to Lilongwe, the capital city of Malawi. They had stayed in a Holiday Inn in the Lusaka the night before and even offered us pastries they had taken from the continental breakfast earlier that morning when we all stopped for a lunch break on the side of the road. They helped us to swiftly cross the border and dropped us off right outside the Lilongwe Peace Corps house before dark. And the best part is they wouldn't accept any money so we literally traveled halfway across Zambia and into Malawi for FREE. Another part of our group showed up in Lilongwe later that night and although they looked a little more frazzled from travel and had spent more money they definitely had some crazy stories from the day.
We got to know some Malawian Peace Corps volunteers who were also staying at the PC house in Lilongwe, and they seemed pretty friendly. They helped us out a lot with how to get from Lilongwe to Nkhata Bay and also told us approximate costs since we all know there would be some minibus price inflation for the 'musungus'. Malawi is a poorer country than Zambia and everything there is incredibly cheap. Traveling to Malawi for vacation is popular among Zambian PCVs for that reason. However, even though the Malawian PCVs can pretty much go to the lake whenever they want, they don't receive as high of a living allowance as we do so it's a lot more expensive for them to travel to Zambia than it is for us to travel to Malawi. Also, visas into Malawi are free while a visa into Zambia costs about $150.
The 7 of us set out early the next morning for the lake, hopping from minibus to minibus along the way. At our last minibus station before reaching our final destination, we loaded our final van carlsberg in hand to celebrate the last stretch of 2 loooong days of travel and our first time out of the country in 6 months.
Nkhata Bay is nestled into rolling, rocky foothills on the northern edge of Lake Malawi. The water is a mediterranean blue that fools you into thinking its an ocean. The faintest hint of a boundary is in the faded outline of the mountains of Tanzania and Mozambique in the distance on a clear day. Most days, however, the lake and sky blur out the horizon line and the dug-out canoes become distant specks suspended mid-air.
Our group of 12 stayed in a beach house right on the lake, complete with a big deck overlooking the water ideal for both sun-bathing and star-gazing. Actually, a few of us only slept in our rooms for one night. Every other night we pulled our mattresses out onto the deck and fell asleep under the stars. Seeing the lights of the canoes full of fishermen at night light up the lake made braving the gnats and mosquitoes worth it. I didn't even mind being woken up every morning around 4 to the singing and chattering Malawian fishermen hauling in their boats full of that night's catch.
Nkhata bay is intriguing in that the lodges for travellers are dotted throughout the bay among the homes of the villagers. A backpacker is likely to feel that they are experiencing the "true Malawi" in a sense, and the villagers are able to benefit directly from tourism. Yet after living for 6 months in a village I was struck by the difference between this Malawian village on a hill and my village in a remote Northern corner of Zambia. The rural community of which I have become a part in Lufila has remained virtually untouched by the tourist industry and direct foreign contact in general. I am a novelty as I stroll down the main street (or dirt road if you want to be technical) because I am probably one of the first if not the first white person who has ventured to their community, let alone living there as they do for 2 years. Although tourism has helped the indigenous community in Nkhata Bay to flourish, I found myself feeling eager to get back 'home' to my village, to Africans who remain untainted by tourism. Malawians in Nkhata Bay are very friendly, but you can tell they are used to 'pleasing' foreigners, always knowing the right jokes to tell or what to say to make the sale. I missed the genuine friendliness of Zambians; the pure eagerness to get to know you as well as teach you their culture. Their smile hasn't fallen on backpackers from around the world, but instead, teeth or no teeth, illustrates a simple happiness to greet you. And if you greet them in their tribal language? Then it's as if you just handed them a million kwacha. :)
So as I wrote before, I was planning to get SCUBA certified in Malawi, and to my own surprise I actually went through with it. If I had known how tough it was actually going to be I might not have shown up for class Monday morning. I started to conquer one fear while another was magnified. Turns out breathing from a tank underwater goes against all intuition; remembering to relax, breathe slowly, and not freak out is the hardest part of scuba diving. I was that girl who made the instructors check her respirator themselves before diving and who literally cut off the cirulation in the instructors hand while going through a semi panic attack on the floor of Lake Malawi. My fear of deep water and enclosed spaces collided and the first dives we did were 2 of the most unenjoyable experiences I've ever had. I was ready to throw in the towel after day 2 but my extreme stubborness came to the rescue and by the fifth dive on the last day I was loving seeing all the beautiful fishies and was learning to trick my mind into not thinking about the fact that my only source of air was a tank strapped to my back. My fear of fish began to fade, as they were a welcome distraction to thinking too hard about my breathing. As for our group, 8 hours of class and diving a day paid off when we all passed and receieved our certifications on day 4. Although our grace underwater could use some work (lots of whacking eachother in the head with flippers) we all stuck it out and are already planning to dive in places like Mozambique and Zanzibar. Throughout the week, our instructors kept tabs on what they referred to as 'beer points'. If someone forgot to lay their tank down on its side before walking away from it, and one of them noticed, that person earned 1 beer point and at the end of the week had to buy everyone a round of beer. Does it surprise you that yours truly paid for drinks on the last day after class? :) Although we were pumped about getting certified, the 5 of us were ready to spend our remaining 3 days in Malawi soaking up the sun with our already lobster-red friends. On Saturday we all rented a boat. We got to feed some Fish Eagles and do some cliff-jumping before heading to a sandy inlet where we snorkeled a little bit and tried our hand at paddling a dug-out wooden canoe. Needless to say it's way harder than it looks and we all looked absolutely ridiculous. After enjoying a home-cooked lunch on the beach we headed back to our house to get ready for the Nkhata Bay night life. We were a pretty big group and definitely brought the party wherever we went. The owner of a neighboring lodge told me the craziest people he's had stay at his lodge have been Peace Corps Zambia volunteers. Makes sense I guess....Zambia is one of the only remaining Peace Corps countries that is truly rural, and we tend to take advantage of our time out of the bush-bush. Even most Malawi PCVs have electricity and running water. Not a single Zam volunteer has either. Long story short, the 12 of us left Malawi early Monday morning looking and feeling pretty worse for the wear. Luckily we had a couple days to 'sleep' on transport. We departed in our minibus alrady planning to make it back sometime during the remainder of our service. It was a wonderful vacation in a breathtakingly beautiful part of Africa, but we were ready to get back home to village life and 10 hours of sleep a night. :)
Due to some safety and security issues in my district, my really good friend Becky had to leave Mpika and move to Luapula Province on Thursday. Danielle, Jeanna, and I helped her pack. It was a really sad day to see her go. She has been a huge support for me, especially during my struggles in the very beginning. And she's my fellow minnesota soccer girl. :) I am hopping to visit her at ther new site in Mansa district in a few weeks. Hannah, an amazing volunteer in Mpika who had been here for about a year and a half was forced to end her service and move back to America for the same security reasons. We will miss her tons but I hope everything works out for her back in the land where everything works...
So it's back to village life for me. I missed it. Becky brought me back some starbucks coffee grounds from America (she recently went back for a wedding in MN), and I spend a good 5 minutes every morning just inhaling the aroma of the grounds. :) Plus my mom sent me about a 2-year supply of peanut m&m's so I'm in heaven. I can officially start working now, so I'm gong to be busy working with the neighborhood health committees (and forming or reforming them in most cases) as well as continuing to work with community leaders. The in-charge/midwife at the clinic is my counterpart/colleague so I discuss most of what I plan to do with him. He is extremely knowledgeable about health care in Zambia and a big soccer fan so I enjoy stopping by the clinic to talk with him. While basically running the clinic by himself, he manages also to study for further courses he is taking in Kasama. He always watches out for me, too, and if I have any problems in my village, such as thievery, he is the first person I go to. One frustration I am beginning to have is that no one can give me a straight answer as to the activity ( or inactivity for that matter) of my neighborhood health committees. Ba Chikwaba, my counterparrt, tells me none have more than 4-5 members, but the chairperson of each committee tells me they have 15 members (the ideal number). hmmm.... So I wrote bush notes to each chairperson and even hand-delivered some by bike letting them know I'd like to meet with their NHC's as soon as possible. At this point I am waiting to hear back from them. Hopefully by next month I'll have had a chance to meet with all 7 NHCs and assess whether they need to hold community meetings to elect more/new members. I feel a little rushed to get the ball rolling with them as soon as possible because rainy season is fast approaching and the pace of life slows down even more come November.
At this point I should probably explain a little more clearly my job and role as a CAHP project volunteer in Lufila. I think I tried to explain it a few months ago but it has even become more clearly definied for me since I arrived in Zambia 7 months ago. Here's a metaphor: pricture me as the hand holding the back of the bike seat and the NHCs are learning to ride the bike. I teach and support them, even giving them a little motivational push until ultimately they are on their own. My job is all about education and empowerment of the NHCs. Their role is to address the healthcare needs of their respective villages and my role is to build their capacity to do so. In the Zambian Ministry of Health structure, the ministry itself is in charge of 9 provinces. Those 9 provincial health offices oversee 72 district health offices. Within each district there are about 25 rural health centers (or gov't. clinics), each of which serves a catchment area that ideally contains 3-20 active neighborhood health committees. Decentralization of health care in Zambia aims to allow this hierarchy to work from the ground up, with NHCs communicating needs and issues as well as reporting on healthcare activity to their RHC (rural health center), who then reports to the district, and on and on up the ladder. In a perfect Zambian world this system would empower villagers in rural areas to work within their communities to address health issues...but of course the system is flawed. Frustrations occur during frequent breakdowns in communication and many NHC members are left understandably feeling powerless and insignificant. Their membership on the NHC is completely voluntary yet still a status symbol within their community. Some members are extremely motivated to address the needs of their community while others view membership as a sort of popularity contest. As I stated before, I am currently experiencing some frustrations with the NHCs in my clinic's catchment area because the committees were supposed to be formed 5 years ago and they have gone through quite a bit of training, yet not all members are active and many NHC communities have not been sensitized to the role of the NHC. A training is useless unless there are enough NHC members to implement the skills they learned in the training in their communities. I am ultimately supposed to train the NHCs in the 6 major health thrusts in Zambia and consistently do follow-up trainings on project design and management, action planning, and budget-making, etc. I am supposed to constantly monitor and evaluate their progress throughout the next 2 years. Yet I am starting to believe that social mobilization, forming the foundation of the NHC, is still a work-in-progress in my area. Although the NHCs were apparently formed 5 years ago, I feel as if I'm starting from scratch. Its ok though, because as a first generation volunteer in my village my main focus is to build a solid foundation with my NHCs on which the 2 generations of volunteers that will follow me can build. Building the full capacity of the NHCs is a 6-year process, according to Peace Corps and the ministry of health in Zambia, and rushing my NHCs now will only hurt them in the end. So I am trying to build good relationships with them as well as other community leaders so that my 2-year service here is not full of frustrations and so that life is a little easier for the 2 volunteers who will live here after I leave. In America, we become so used to always seeing tangible results. You put a lot of work into something fully expecting a result that is both measurable and reflective of the hard work you put into it. I believe the main objective of Peace Corps as an organization, although they may not come right out and say it, is not so much direct, tangible development as it is the building of solid relationships, 'keeping the peace' if you will. Education, whether it be in health, agriculture, or the rural school system, forms the cornerstone of Peace Corps grassroots development aims in Zambia, but you can only educate sustainably if you form good relationships with those in your community. Not only America but other first-world countries tend to exploit the third world and although aid intentions aren't necessarily malicious, the desire to force our way of doing things on those of a poorer and more vulnerable country essentially is, in effect. Peace Corps is by no means a perfect organization. It's disorganized and lacks accountability in many areas, but I respect it in that it doesn't place tangible development on a pedestal as many NGOs and other foreign aid agencies seem to do. Actually Peace Corps discourages its volunteers from constructing building or using large sums of donation money to fund rural projects. As cliche as it sounds, Peace Corps is working in developing countries like Zambia to build relationships, not monuments. They are much more interested in teaching a group of community leaders in the bush how to write a proposal to fund something like the construction of a well than a Peace Corps volunteer moving into the village and building the well themselves. Although the constant focus on sustainability can be both frustrating and exhausting, it has forced me to rethink my views on foreign AID to Africa. There is a constant dialogue among PC volunteers regarding the answer to development and the correct way to go about it. And the truth is no one knows the answer. But I have to believe that if living in the heart of an African village for 2 years gets me no closer to an answer to development here, then at least I will have come closer to understanding the hearts of Africans themselves. And despite constant diarrhea, contracting malaria, hitching rides in the back of tomato trucks, or riding my bike 30k just to buy eggs that have mostly cracked by the time I bike home, it's still a desire to understand Zambia and the people here, as well as to begin to formulate my own answer to devlopment that gets me out of bed every morning. That and the African sky. :) .much luv.
-katie
"the movements which work revolutions in the world are born out of the dreams and visions in a peasant's heart on the hillside. For them the earth is not exploitable ground but the living mother."
"the criterion is how you treat the weak. The measure of civilized behavior is compassion."
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
I'm in Lusaka and feeling over-stimulated. It's funny that when we first flew into Lusaka I wasn't very impressed by the city itself and couldn't wait to get out to the more rural areas, but right now I am LOVING lusaka. :) Good food, toilets, hot showers...doesn't take much these days...Our entire intake of about 50 volunteers arrived here a few days ago for about a week of in-service training. Us Northerners lucked out with a pretty sweet ride from Mpika. We hitched from the police post (genious idea by Jeanna!) and got almost an entire bus transporting soap to ourselves! They did NOT want to take us at first but were easily persuaded by the lady with the gun who didn't smile much (gotta luv zambia!). I have actually lucked out lately with transport (and have probably just jinxed myself), because I caught a ride from my village turnoff with some canadian and british families who were on their way back from vacation up north. I started off around 6 a.m. from my hut and made it to the tarmac by around 9, where I saw a bunch of white people with about 5 cruisers. I left my bike at a shop, walked over to them and asked for a lift. They looked completely confused because I literally just popped right out of the bush. But they were very friendly (not always the case with white people driving in Zambia...you are much more likely to catch a lift from a Zambian). I was having flashbacks from childhood family road trips as I got into the backseat full of empty boxes of snacks, word puzzle games, and squabbling children. What I found most surprising was that the car actually smelled "good" and I was probably the stinkiest one there, and the kids weren't staring at me and calling me 'muzungu'! It made me miss home a lot. :(
So our intake pretty much all met up in Lusaka on Sunday, shopping and eating before heading to NRDC (where training was taking place). Everyone looked pretty much the same except tanner and a little more frazzled-looking, and as always the girls have mostly all gained a couple pounds and the guys are melting. It has been great to catch up with people and find out how village life is for everyone. Most everyone seems to be doing great, and people have definitely become happier and more relaxed since training.
A bunch of us are headed to malawi on saturday and I am so pumped! We are staying for about a week and it's starting to get pretty hot so a beach will be nice. I'm planning on getting certified in SCUBA with some other people, but the only thing holding me back is my 2 biggest fears of deep water and fish...but hey it's all about conquering fears, yeah? :) We'll see if I got through with it.
It's also been nice to talk to the Peace Corps medical doctors here. I am seeing a doctor in Lusaka for some stomach issues tomorrow morning so hopefully my troubles there can get cleared up. The PCMO also told me I need to move out of my hut because I have too many bees....but I'm hoping she's just being a little on the dramatic side. I don't think she realizes that it's been 4 months and my village still hasn't dug my rubbish pit....so them building me another house is most likely out of the question. Plus I love my hut and location. I think I'll just try to get the villagers to knock the hive down...maybe they can do beekeeping...haha now I'm thinking like a peace corps volunteer. :)
Speaking of village life, I just found out that my (former) cat was attacked by a hawk and died! 2 months ago after I gave my neighbors my jerk kitten they told me she had run into the bush...but turns out they didn't want to break my heart and tell me the truth...little do they know I am NOT a cat person.
Sorry this post has been kind of random and scattered...seems my life is kind of that way here in Zambia. Being at this training has given me more ideas for my village and I am excited to get back to the bush after Malawi. I've been thinking about helping my village form an HIV/AIDS support group, and I'd also love for them to form a women's group. I also want to teach some English, and a bigger, more long-term project I have in mind is the construction of a library....these are all still little just thoughts at this point but when I sat down to write an action plan for myself it made the next two years actually seem like not enough time. Time is crazy here though, because the weeks and months seem to fall off the calendar while the days can sometimes be agonizingly long.
I will try to write again when I pass through Lusaka after Malawi. All my love from Lusaka!
Katie
So our intake pretty much all met up in Lusaka on Sunday, shopping and eating before heading to NRDC (where training was taking place). Everyone looked pretty much the same except tanner and a little more frazzled-looking, and as always the girls have mostly all gained a couple pounds and the guys are melting. It has been great to catch up with people and find out how village life is for everyone. Most everyone seems to be doing great, and people have definitely become happier and more relaxed since training.
A bunch of us are headed to malawi on saturday and I am so pumped! We are staying for about a week and it's starting to get pretty hot so a beach will be nice. I'm planning on getting certified in SCUBA with some other people, but the only thing holding me back is my 2 biggest fears of deep water and fish...but hey it's all about conquering fears, yeah? :) We'll see if I got through with it.
It's also been nice to talk to the Peace Corps medical doctors here. I am seeing a doctor in Lusaka for some stomach issues tomorrow morning so hopefully my troubles there can get cleared up. The PCMO also told me I need to move out of my hut because I have too many bees....but I'm hoping she's just being a little on the dramatic side. I don't think she realizes that it's been 4 months and my village still hasn't dug my rubbish pit....so them building me another house is most likely out of the question. Plus I love my hut and location. I think I'll just try to get the villagers to knock the hive down...maybe they can do beekeeping...haha now I'm thinking like a peace corps volunteer. :)
Speaking of village life, I just found out that my (former) cat was attacked by a hawk and died! 2 months ago after I gave my neighbors my jerk kitten they told me she had run into the bush...but turns out they didn't want to break my heart and tell me the truth...little do they know I am NOT a cat person.
Sorry this post has been kind of random and scattered...seems my life is kind of that way here in Zambia. Being at this training has given me more ideas for my village and I am excited to get back to the bush after Malawi. I've been thinking about helping my village form an HIV/AIDS support group, and I'd also love for them to form a women's group. I also want to teach some English, and a bigger, more long-term project I have in mind is the construction of a library....these are all still little just thoughts at this point but when I sat down to write an action plan for myself it made the next two years actually seem like not enough time. Time is crazy here though, because the weeks and months seem to fall off the calendar while the days can sometimes be agonizingly long.
I will try to write again when I pass through Lusaka after Malawi. All my love from Lusaka!
Katie
Friday, July 25, 2008
awe sure...
I'm in Kasama for the weekend so that I can get an extension on my visa and not get deported, but loving the good food and movie-watching on the side at the house. ;) I had some crazy truly cultural experiences in my village the last couple weeks that I know I could never do justice to on this blog but I'll try anyway.
I went to church for the first time in my village. My neighbors are 7th day adventist so they go to church all day on saturdays. I didn't have much going on so I decided to join them a couple weeks ago. Like I've mentioned before, the singing here in Africa is beautiful. Not only do I hear it emenating at night sometimes from the village when the moon is bright and the kids stay out late, but people break into song at random and harmonize with no effort at all. It's like everyone knows their part from birth. The church choir made me stand up in front of everyone in the church while they sang a welcome song to me both in english and bemba. The minister came over and handed me a bible in English so I could follow along. Although I don't consider myself a very religious person and I don't adhere to one specific religion, I felt incredibly welcome and comfortable in this church full of people who don't speak my language and have a different set of beliefs. The sermon was on self-control and temperance, two things I never seem to have much of, but I was impressed with the minister's efforts to make me understand and even throw some English in, and I took the opportunity to work on my Bemba. The service was about 4 hours long and my brain hurt a little by lunchtime so I decided not to come back in the afternoon, but I made a resolve to try and go to at least one service at each church in Lufila. There is a Pentacostal church , Catholic church, and United Church of Zambia. Zambians love them some Jesus! :) If nothing else I'll go for the singing and to connect to more leaders in the community, because EVERYONE goes to church. I'll settle for saying my prayers before I go to bed at night. :)
Another crazy cultural experience I had was attending a women's initiation ceremony in my village. Gong show might be the only way to describe it...I couldn't compare it to anything in America. A couple younger women stopped by my hut just when it was getting dark one night and were saying something about dancing and how they wanted me to come with them. I was a little hesitant because, like pretty much every other encounter with Zambians I only understood about 10% of what they were saying, but decided to go with them. All I was going to do was crawl into my bed with a good book and go to sleep soon...BORING! Well we walked for about an hour to the other side of the village where there were a couple of fires going at someone's hut and lots of women sitting around the fire talking. I greeted all of them (something I've gotten quite good at...next step is more conversation, ha!) and sat with them around the fire for what had to have been a couple more hours, which was cool with me since it was getting pretty cold. The women seemed to vary in age from 20-70...maybe about 30 altogether. Some kept coming in and out of the hut and whatever was inside was a big secret. Finally the women told me I needed to pay to get inside, and of course I didn't bring any money so one of them loaned me 1,000 kwacha (about 30 cents) to get inside the hut. So there we all were, squished into this tiny hut with one candle burning in the corner. And in the center of the room is large falic symbol about a meter tall molded from clay with beans stuck into the sides and circular web of clay beneath it. In the corner were other clay figurines. One was a snake for sure...the others looked like miniature buddhas but I guess were pregnant women with baskets on their heads and babies on their backs and what may be inappopriate things to write about on this blog being done to them. I think these symbolized the "duties" of the women to their husbands. The ceremony was for girls who were about to get married, and was basically a way for the older women in the community to teach their daughters how to please their husbands and run their households. Of course they included me in the initiation (I'm proud to say I can now marry a zambian if I want...although the fact that I refuse to cook nshima and basically can't really cook in general or have a desire to pop out 10 babies makes the pool of zambian men who would want to marry me slim to none.) There was a lot of call and response chanting and singing while 3 women were consistently drumming in the corner. I got up and danced in the middle a few times and they LOVED to see my attempt to move my hips like they do. It must have been pretty comical, but I was really trying hard! As for the initiation, of course me and the other girls being initiated (mind you I'm almost 24 and they are maybe 14 or 15) had to first walk in circles around the falic clay molding, then dance around it, and finally sit on top of it. I'm all about participation in cultural experiences here, but I drew the line at this point. I'll dance till the morning light but hells no was I going to use that thing as a chair.
The dancing, singing, and drumming continued all night. It was so much fun but also taken very seriously by all involved. Women would take turns going in the middle of the circle and girating their hips like crazy. They even went so far as to pretend to be having sex with one another, while mothers pointed out to their daughters who was doing it the best. I was pretty much in shock the entire time, for as un-open as people are here about sex, put a bunch of Zambian women in a room together and there are no boundaries. Probably around 2:00 a.m. I was starting to doze off a little (remember my bedtime is usually around 8 p.m.), so they gave me a blanket and put me to sleep on a reed mat in the hut next door. I couldn't see anything but could hear a baby crying and children whispering, 'musungu! musungu!' (meaning 'white person' in bemba). I was exhausted and freezing so I curled up in the blanket and tried to doze off before any rats or mice scurried over. When the sun came up, the women came and woke me after having been up dancing the entire night. In the light of dawn it really hit me how simplistically Zambians live. I had not been inside another hut in my area, and it made me realize how much stuff I have compared to them. It was pretty empty except for a bed in one room, a reed mat, and a pile of potatoes in the corner. They had probably given me one of maybe two blankets that they owned so I could stay warm. Their own children were probably just using chitenges, yet they would never have let me give the blanket back. They share what they have, no matter how little, no questions asked.
We danced a little more and ate nshima, chicken, and beans for breakfast. I got back to my hut at 10 am and passed out for the rest of the day. It took a couple days to process what had just happened. It was an incredible experience that I feel so lucky to have gotten to the chance to partake in, and as a result I feel a lot closer with some women in my community. They are so eager to show me their traditions, it definitely made me feel more a part of my community. As I've mentioned before, I've never met such amazing women as I have in this country. If they could only realize the power they hold this country would change dramatically for the better.
Well I'm headed down to Lusaka for In-service Training in about 3 weeks, which means community entry period is dunski. I am looking forward to starting work on projects both in my community and in Mpika in September. It will be great to see the other people from my intake at the training, then a group of about 15 of us are headed to Malawi for a week for our first official vacation! Yay for crazy tan-lines. :)
Hope all is well back home. I think about it a lot, although Zambia becomes more and more like home every day. Lately I've really been craving some pizza...that's delivered...to your door...a completely American concept that hasn't quite caught on in Zambia yet.
Much luv from AFRICA. :)
Katie
I went to church for the first time in my village. My neighbors are 7th day adventist so they go to church all day on saturdays. I didn't have much going on so I decided to join them a couple weeks ago. Like I've mentioned before, the singing here in Africa is beautiful. Not only do I hear it emenating at night sometimes from the village when the moon is bright and the kids stay out late, but people break into song at random and harmonize with no effort at all. It's like everyone knows their part from birth. The church choir made me stand up in front of everyone in the church while they sang a welcome song to me both in english and bemba. The minister came over and handed me a bible in English so I could follow along. Although I don't consider myself a very religious person and I don't adhere to one specific religion, I felt incredibly welcome and comfortable in this church full of people who don't speak my language and have a different set of beliefs. The sermon was on self-control and temperance, two things I never seem to have much of, but I was impressed with the minister's efforts to make me understand and even throw some English in, and I took the opportunity to work on my Bemba. The service was about 4 hours long and my brain hurt a little by lunchtime so I decided not to come back in the afternoon, but I made a resolve to try and go to at least one service at each church in Lufila. There is a Pentacostal church , Catholic church, and United Church of Zambia. Zambians love them some Jesus! :) If nothing else I'll go for the singing and to connect to more leaders in the community, because EVERYONE goes to church. I'll settle for saying my prayers before I go to bed at night. :)
Another crazy cultural experience I had was attending a women's initiation ceremony in my village. Gong show might be the only way to describe it...I couldn't compare it to anything in America. A couple younger women stopped by my hut just when it was getting dark one night and were saying something about dancing and how they wanted me to come with them. I was a little hesitant because, like pretty much every other encounter with Zambians I only understood about 10% of what they were saying, but decided to go with them. All I was going to do was crawl into my bed with a good book and go to sleep soon...BORING! Well we walked for about an hour to the other side of the village where there were a couple of fires going at someone's hut and lots of women sitting around the fire talking. I greeted all of them (something I've gotten quite good at...next step is more conversation, ha!) and sat with them around the fire for what had to have been a couple more hours, which was cool with me since it was getting pretty cold. The women seemed to vary in age from 20-70...maybe about 30 altogether. Some kept coming in and out of the hut and whatever was inside was a big secret. Finally the women told me I needed to pay to get inside, and of course I didn't bring any money so one of them loaned me 1,000 kwacha (about 30 cents) to get inside the hut. So there we all were, squished into this tiny hut with one candle burning in the corner. And in the center of the room is large falic symbol about a meter tall molded from clay with beans stuck into the sides and circular web of clay beneath it. In the corner were other clay figurines. One was a snake for sure...the others looked like miniature buddhas but I guess were pregnant women with baskets on their heads and babies on their backs and what may be inappopriate things to write about on this blog being done to them. I think these symbolized the "duties" of the women to their husbands. The ceremony was for girls who were about to get married, and was basically a way for the older women in the community to teach their daughters how to please their husbands and run their households. Of course they included me in the initiation (I'm proud to say I can now marry a zambian if I want...although the fact that I refuse to cook nshima and basically can't really cook in general or have a desire to pop out 10 babies makes the pool of zambian men who would want to marry me slim to none.) There was a lot of call and response chanting and singing while 3 women were consistently drumming in the corner. I got up and danced in the middle a few times and they LOVED to see my attempt to move my hips like they do. It must have been pretty comical, but I was really trying hard! As for the initiation, of course me and the other girls being initiated (mind you I'm almost 24 and they are maybe 14 or 15) had to first walk in circles around the falic clay molding, then dance around it, and finally sit on top of it. I'm all about participation in cultural experiences here, but I drew the line at this point. I'll dance till the morning light but hells no was I going to use that thing as a chair.
The dancing, singing, and drumming continued all night. It was so much fun but also taken very seriously by all involved. Women would take turns going in the middle of the circle and girating their hips like crazy. They even went so far as to pretend to be having sex with one another, while mothers pointed out to their daughters who was doing it the best. I was pretty much in shock the entire time, for as un-open as people are here about sex, put a bunch of Zambian women in a room together and there are no boundaries. Probably around 2:00 a.m. I was starting to doze off a little (remember my bedtime is usually around 8 p.m.), so they gave me a blanket and put me to sleep on a reed mat in the hut next door. I couldn't see anything but could hear a baby crying and children whispering, 'musungu! musungu!' (meaning 'white person' in bemba). I was exhausted and freezing so I curled up in the blanket and tried to doze off before any rats or mice scurried over. When the sun came up, the women came and woke me after having been up dancing the entire night. In the light of dawn it really hit me how simplistically Zambians live. I had not been inside another hut in my area, and it made me realize how much stuff I have compared to them. It was pretty empty except for a bed in one room, a reed mat, and a pile of potatoes in the corner. They had probably given me one of maybe two blankets that they owned so I could stay warm. Their own children were probably just using chitenges, yet they would never have let me give the blanket back. They share what they have, no matter how little, no questions asked.
We danced a little more and ate nshima, chicken, and beans for breakfast. I got back to my hut at 10 am and passed out for the rest of the day. It took a couple days to process what had just happened. It was an incredible experience that I feel so lucky to have gotten to the chance to partake in, and as a result I feel a lot closer with some women in my community. They are so eager to show me their traditions, it definitely made me feel more a part of my community. As I've mentioned before, I've never met such amazing women as I have in this country. If they could only realize the power they hold this country would change dramatically for the better.
Well I'm headed down to Lusaka for In-service Training in about 3 weeks, which means community entry period is dunski. I am looking forward to starting work on projects both in my community and in Mpika in September. It will be great to see the other people from my intake at the training, then a group of about 15 of us are headed to Malawi for a week for our first official vacation! Yay for crazy tan-lines. :)
Hope all is well back home. I think about it a lot, although Zambia becomes more and more like home every day. Lately I've really been craving some pizza...that's delivered...to your door...a completely American concept that hasn't quite caught on in Zambia yet.
Much luv from AFRICA. :)
Katie
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
It's all fun and games until someone almost drowns...
I can't believe how much has happened in the past few weeks. 5 months ago I would have looked at some of the events of the last month and been in shock that this is actually my life...but after 5 months living in the bush nothing seems to surprise me anymore. My life seems to be one gong show after the other...at times i want to laugh so i don't cry, but most of the time i love it. :)
I just hope I can even begin to truly convey my 4th of July adventure on this blog...I don't know if I've ever laughed so hard while also honestly fearing for my life. Here goes...
As I wrote previously, us Mpika gals celebrated the 4th of July at Kapishya Hot Springs, about 25k west of the Great North Road (my village turnoff, but in the opposite direction). It so far out in the middle of nowhere (hmm sounds familiar...) that they charge $100 USD just to pick up guests from the main road and $300 USD for transport up from Mpika. We all met at the turnoff and luckily Lonnie drove us in to the springs at no cost. The springs make a natural hot (perfect temperature) pool that feed a stream leading to the Mansha River. Senator Gore-Brown, the famed builder of Shiwa House about 20k from the springs, wanted a hot bath after hunting and was shown the springs by his Zambian neighbors. He liked them so much taht he built a cabin right next to them as a weekend getaway for his family. Mark, his grandson, now own the property and his family's cabin became a quaint lodge for guests as the springs were developed into a business to lure tourists. The whole place is a small slice of paradise with cute little chalets by the river, a huge garden, and lots of palm trees. It's a tiny traveler's oasis, the only place to stop and rest for a night or 2 for those traveling between Mpika and Dar es Salaam. There is a nice campsite also run by Mark and his fiance, Mel, on the property. Being Peace Corps volunteers this was clearly our most affordable option, and all of us love to camp so we brought all our gear plus food, pots, and pans and set up our tents right next to the river. We found ourselves feeling a little spoiled by actually having toilet seats to sit on and HOT showers! Camping was luxury compared to our homes in the Bush. We had the place all to ourselves the first night but Mark told us it would be a busy weekend with both the 4th and 2 Zambian holidays coinciding.
Can't forget we are still in Africa so it can get pretty HOT during the day, but it was heaven to sit in the springs at night before going to bed and wake up early every morning to warn ourselves up before th sun rose. We could also bathe in the springs! (I was the cleanest I had been in months...funny, but also kinda gross yeah?) The first morning in the springs we talked with Mark and he told us Lonnie had offered to pay for all 5 of us to go rafting on the river on Sunday (normally $100USD). He also asked if we wanted to have a meal served to us at the lodge on evening. We hadn't budgeted to pay for a meal at the springs and had brought plenty of food to cook over the fire, but he insisted on giving us an amazing deal for a main course on sunday night that we couldn't refuse. At this point it was Friday morning but our mouths were already watering looking forward to sunday!
We met a variety of travelers in our 5 days at the springs. 2 guys in their 20s (one American, one German) who both received their MBAs from Harvard spent a couple nights camping in the middle of a road trip from Capetown to Nairobi and then back to cape town by way of the east coast. We stayed up late talking with them, Mark, Mel, and a random German family about development in Zambia. Mark, although white with a british accent, is a true Zambian born and raised, who speaks fluent Bemba and English, and it was fascinating to listen to what he had to say about foreign aid to Zambia. When Zambia gained its independence in 1964 it was an economic powerhouse in Africa. In the past 44 years it has declined to the 11th poorest nation in the world. A peaceful country that has never experienced civil war, it is even poorer than other African nations that have been war-torn in the past. How does that happen? We talked a lot about what NGOs and free handouts have done to Zambia and how its almost created a culture of learned helplessness. We also discussed the importance of empowering the women here. Unless the women of this country are empowered to realized their own voice and strength Zambia will not develop, because it is the women who do all the work! Although the conversation was incredibly interesting, it reiterated a lot of frustrations we as Peace Corps volunteers experience in our villages. How do you work with the culture here to create sustainable development? No one knows the answer, but the conversation left me encouraged and a little inspired to back to work in my village. Zambians right now are caught between 2 worlds, 2 cultures, their indigenous way of life and that of the imposing western world. And the thing is, no matter how frustrated you get, you can't blame Zambians. But the fact is, Zambia will not develop sustainably until Zambians themselves want it to. It's all in their hands, and we as foreigners can help through education, as we are lucky to have grown up in a prospering country where education is valued by the government. It was great to hear a lot of different opinions regarding development, NGOs, and even Peace Corps.
One thing 2 months in the bush has turned us into is expert campers. there were 2 couples staying at the site next to ours and they said they could tell we had some experience with making fires, creative meals (more like throwing a bunch of stuff in a pot), and being resourceful. We brought our aquatabs along and filled up our nalgenes straight from the river, got our dishes spotless without soap, and stoked some pretty blazing fires with some matches, a little trash, and palm tree branches. One night this huge bus titled "Serengeti Team" pulled into the campground, fully equipped with sinks, tents on top, tables, chairs, spotlights, and old white people. Just a little ridiculous...at one point they were all eating fancy dinners with wine and had a spotlight out, a big fluorescent tubelight (bug zapper? p.s. it's cold season...not a lot of mosquitos) and each person was sporting a headlamp. They rised their hands from a faucet in the bus while a river flowed 10 feet away. I'm pretty sure they didn't speak to any other campers and they were gone by the time we woke up in the morning.
Sunday finally rolled around and were all pumped for a lazy river-esque ride on the raft and a gourmet meal in the evening. If we only knew what we were actually in for...
Although Mark did ask us if we had paddled before, his first cue to throw some lifejackets on board should have been when the raft took off minus 2 of us and headed straight into a tree. Second cue should have been when we spun in circles as Mark and Mel waved goodbye on the shore. So there we were, 5 naive American girls, heading down the crocodile-infested river in our bikinis with 3 wooden paddles and no lifejackets.
What we thought was going to be a lazy river with maybe some small rapids turned out literally to be whitewater rafting. We had lots of fun at first pretending we knew what we were doing, trying not to beach the raft on big rocks or run into thorny palm tree branches. It was of the course the first to be knocked out of the boat but luckily Kathy grabbed my hand just in time and pulled me back up. Trying to avoid hitting a tree, Danialle accidentally stabbed Becky with her paddle, and both bodies and paddles were pretty much flying everywhere as the might African river pushed us along. I'm not sure what caused it, but Kathy and I were the first to be completely knocked out of the raft. Kathy tried to grab my leg as I desperately reached for the raft but it was too late. I swam like a bat out of hell to catch up to the raft and the other girls helped me back on as we grabbed onto a tree to halt the raft and wait for Kathy to catch up. At this point we are all having some good laughs (mostly at my expense since I can't seem to stay in the boat and tend to slightly freak out when in water that may or may not contain a crocodile waiting to chomp off my limbs), celebrating every small victory over the rapids and thinking we can handle it, no problem.
Without warning, we are suddenly on the edge of a waterfall (not a huge one, but big enough that our raft would most likely capsize). All 5 of us go immediately into crisis mode. We stop the raft at the edge, get ourselves and our stuff out, and decide that our best bet is to get the raft over the waterfall and then all jump in afterward. While we are all yelling and not listening to eachother, Kathy slips and falls into the water and is being pulled toward the bottom of the waterfall. I've never seen Kathy stressed or worried before, but I will never forget the look on her face as she yelled to us for help. We were helpless, still standing on top of the waterfall with the raft, and the only thought going through my mind was do I remember my CPR from lifeguard traning because I'm going to have to jump into the falls after her. We were all panicking and trying to get the raft in the water as quickly as possible to get to Kathy, who luckily was now away from the falls but bobbing and floating quickly downstream. Of course the log we are balancing the boat on breaks and I am the only one left standing on top of the waterfall with no raft. I dove into the water and swam like my life depended on it to catch up to the raft. Kath was balancing on a rock downstream and I'm pretty sure none of us breathed until we were all 5 safely back in the boat. It was at this point that we realized we should definitely not be out on this river minus lifejackets, helmets, and someone who knows what they're doing. It didn't make matters better that we had no idea where the vehicle was picking us up to take us back to the springs. We stopped at a fork in the river and rested a little on the shore, asking ourselves what Mark could possibly have been thinking. We had no choice but to get back in the boat and keep on keepin' on. We went over one more small waterfall, this time all staying in the raft, paddled through some areas that looked like perfect crocodile hangouts, and conquered a few more rapids. I kept feeling as if I was in a zoo exhibit for Africa. It was pretty surreal hos beautifully and essentially African the river and area was. I have expected to see people watching us, safely on the other side of a glass barrier. 3 hours after starting off (we found out later the trip should have only taken 1.5 hours), we saw the vehicle that would bring us back to Kapishya. We survived! Although there's truth to the statement that we should not have been out there by ourselves on that river, we had teh time of our lives and I'm secretly glad Mark didn't warn us about it ahead of time. A rule of thumb in Africa is to go into every situation with no expectations...you just gotta go with the flow and have faith that things will work out.
We were still on a high at dinner that night, and it was the best meal I've since since I got to Zambia. What's funny is the main cours was lasagna, something I would have gotten too excited about back in America, but the cheese was creamy goodness and the entire meal was both prepared for us and different from what we eat here every day. We were literally licking the bowls and plates clean. There were 2 british girls from Lusaka eating with us at our table. Poor girls had to eat in self-defense out of fear that we might actually take the food off their plates. The other "higher-paying" customers at the 3-course table were taking their time eating and having intellectual conversation while we were inhaling our food while also still talking about food and laughing about our rafting experience earlier that day. We were like the kids' table at family gatherings!
Our stomachs both bull and satisfied for the first time in way too long, combined with feeling emotionally and physically drained from the trauma of the day...needless to say we slept like rocks sunday night. We decided to head back to our villages on Tuesday, so Monday night Becky and I ended up hanging out at the bar with Mark, Mel, and a bunch of Brits. Becky and I hung out behind the bar with Mark for awhile and although we probably spent more than we should have we bonded with Mark and Mel and they even bought us a couple rounds. :)
Althought the break was nice and refreshing, I was looking forward to getting back home to Lufila, especially to my nice warm bed. :) Of course my bike broke while cycling to the tarmac before going to the springs and I had to bike on 1 gear for about 20k, so before I could cycle back to Lufila I had to spend a couple days in Mpika and wait for Lameck, who works for the Peace Corps in Northern Province, to drive up to my turnoff where I had to leave the bike and attempt to fix it. I stayed a couple days with Becky and we decided on a whim to get braided extensions in our hair, called "Plaiting" in Zambia. Picture 2 white girls wandering through the market looking for "Pretty Woman" fake hair (the brand to get apparently). We settled on "Darling" in reddish-brown. Although we clearly look pretty ridiculous, we provided the village entertainment while 4 women braided our hair for about 5 hours. They even fed us! It was a fun day-long even and we figured if nothing else we would do it just for the humor factor. So now we have long Zambian braids (actually Becky's have already fallen out, but I'm still sporting mine), but we basically look Jamaican. :)
Turns out I'm quickly running out of kwacha, but I have some more crazy stories that I'll try to write about this weekend when I have to go to Kasama to extend my visa. Much luv from the African Bush! Hope all is well ku America. Miss you more than lasagna...:)
Katie
I just hope I can even begin to truly convey my 4th of July adventure on this blog...I don't know if I've ever laughed so hard while also honestly fearing for my life. Here goes...
As I wrote previously, us Mpika gals celebrated the 4th of July at Kapishya Hot Springs, about 25k west of the Great North Road (my village turnoff, but in the opposite direction). It so far out in the middle of nowhere (hmm sounds familiar...) that they charge $100 USD just to pick up guests from the main road and $300 USD for transport up from Mpika. We all met at the turnoff and luckily Lonnie drove us in to the springs at no cost. The springs make a natural hot (perfect temperature) pool that feed a stream leading to the Mansha River. Senator Gore-Brown, the famed builder of Shiwa House about 20k from the springs, wanted a hot bath after hunting and was shown the springs by his Zambian neighbors. He liked them so much taht he built a cabin right next to them as a weekend getaway for his family. Mark, his grandson, now own the property and his family's cabin became a quaint lodge for guests as the springs were developed into a business to lure tourists. The whole place is a small slice of paradise with cute little chalets by the river, a huge garden, and lots of palm trees. It's a tiny traveler's oasis, the only place to stop and rest for a night or 2 for those traveling between Mpika and Dar es Salaam. There is a nice campsite also run by Mark and his fiance, Mel, on the property. Being Peace Corps volunteers this was clearly our most affordable option, and all of us love to camp so we brought all our gear plus food, pots, and pans and set up our tents right next to the river. We found ourselves feeling a little spoiled by actually having toilet seats to sit on and HOT showers! Camping was luxury compared to our homes in the Bush. We had the place all to ourselves the first night but Mark told us it would be a busy weekend with both the 4th and 2 Zambian holidays coinciding.
Can't forget we are still in Africa so it can get pretty HOT during the day, but it was heaven to sit in the springs at night before going to bed and wake up early every morning to warn ourselves up before th sun rose. We could also bathe in the springs! (I was the cleanest I had been in months...funny, but also kinda gross yeah?) The first morning in the springs we talked with Mark and he told us Lonnie had offered to pay for all 5 of us to go rafting on the river on Sunday (normally $100USD). He also asked if we wanted to have a meal served to us at the lodge on evening. We hadn't budgeted to pay for a meal at the springs and had brought plenty of food to cook over the fire, but he insisted on giving us an amazing deal for a main course on sunday night that we couldn't refuse. At this point it was Friday morning but our mouths were already watering looking forward to sunday!
We met a variety of travelers in our 5 days at the springs. 2 guys in their 20s (one American, one German) who both received their MBAs from Harvard spent a couple nights camping in the middle of a road trip from Capetown to Nairobi and then back to cape town by way of the east coast. We stayed up late talking with them, Mark, Mel, and a random German family about development in Zambia. Mark, although white with a british accent, is a true Zambian born and raised, who speaks fluent Bemba and English, and it was fascinating to listen to what he had to say about foreign aid to Zambia. When Zambia gained its independence in 1964 it was an economic powerhouse in Africa. In the past 44 years it has declined to the 11th poorest nation in the world. A peaceful country that has never experienced civil war, it is even poorer than other African nations that have been war-torn in the past. How does that happen? We talked a lot about what NGOs and free handouts have done to Zambia and how its almost created a culture of learned helplessness. We also discussed the importance of empowering the women here. Unless the women of this country are empowered to realized their own voice and strength Zambia will not develop, because it is the women who do all the work! Although the conversation was incredibly interesting, it reiterated a lot of frustrations we as Peace Corps volunteers experience in our villages. How do you work with the culture here to create sustainable development? No one knows the answer, but the conversation left me encouraged and a little inspired to back to work in my village. Zambians right now are caught between 2 worlds, 2 cultures, their indigenous way of life and that of the imposing western world. And the thing is, no matter how frustrated you get, you can't blame Zambians. But the fact is, Zambia will not develop sustainably until Zambians themselves want it to. It's all in their hands, and we as foreigners can help through education, as we are lucky to have grown up in a prospering country where education is valued by the government. It was great to hear a lot of different opinions regarding development, NGOs, and even Peace Corps.
One thing 2 months in the bush has turned us into is expert campers. there were 2 couples staying at the site next to ours and they said they could tell we had some experience with making fires, creative meals (more like throwing a bunch of stuff in a pot), and being resourceful. We brought our aquatabs along and filled up our nalgenes straight from the river, got our dishes spotless without soap, and stoked some pretty blazing fires with some matches, a little trash, and palm tree branches. One night this huge bus titled "Serengeti Team" pulled into the campground, fully equipped with sinks, tents on top, tables, chairs, spotlights, and old white people. Just a little ridiculous...at one point they were all eating fancy dinners with wine and had a spotlight out, a big fluorescent tubelight (bug zapper? p.s. it's cold season...not a lot of mosquitos) and each person was sporting a headlamp. They rised their hands from a faucet in the bus while a river flowed 10 feet away. I'm pretty sure they didn't speak to any other campers and they were gone by the time we woke up in the morning.
Sunday finally rolled around and were all pumped for a lazy river-esque ride on the raft and a gourmet meal in the evening. If we only knew what we were actually in for...
Although Mark did ask us if we had paddled before, his first cue to throw some lifejackets on board should have been when the raft took off minus 2 of us and headed straight into a tree. Second cue should have been when we spun in circles as Mark and Mel waved goodbye on the shore. So there we were, 5 naive American girls, heading down the crocodile-infested river in our bikinis with 3 wooden paddles and no lifejackets.
What we thought was going to be a lazy river with maybe some small rapids turned out literally to be whitewater rafting. We had lots of fun at first pretending we knew what we were doing, trying not to beach the raft on big rocks or run into thorny palm tree branches. It was of the course the first to be knocked out of the boat but luckily Kathy grabbed my hand just in time and pulled me back up. Trying to avoid hitting a tree, Danialle accidentally stabbed Becky with her paddle, and both bodies and paddles were pretty much flying everywhere as the might African river pushed us along. I'm not sure what caused it, but Kathy and I were the first to be completely knocked out of the raft. Kathy tried to grab my leg as I desperately reached for the raft but it was too late. I swam like a bat out of hell to catch up to the raft and the other girls helped me back on as we grabbed onto a tree to halt the raft and wait for Kathy to catch up. At this point we are all having some good laughs (mostly at my expense since I can't seem to stay in the boat and tend to slightly freak out when in water that may or may not contain a crocodile waiting to chomp off my limbs), celebrating every small victory over the rapids and thinking we can handle it, no problem.
Without warning, we are suddenly on the edge of a waterfall (not a huge one, but big enough that our raft would most likely capsize). All 5 of us go immediately into crisis mode. We stop the raft at the edge, get ourselves and our stuff out, and decide that our best bet is to get the raft over the waterfall and then all jump in afterward. While we are all yelling and not listening to eachother, Kathy slips and falls into the water and is being pulled toward the bottom of the waterfall. I've never seen Kathy stressed or worried before, but I will never forget the look on her face as she yelled to us for help. We were helpless, still standing on top of the waterfall with the raft, and the only thought going through my mind was do I remember my CPR from lifeguard traning because I'm going to have to jump into the falls after her. We were all panicking and trying to get the raft in the water as quickly as possible to get to Kathy, who luckily was now away from the falls but bobbing and floating quickly downstream. Of course the log we are balancing the boat on breaks and I am the only one left standing on top of the waterfall with no raft. I dove into the water and swam like my life depended on it to catch up to the raft. Kath was balancing on a rock downstream and I'm pretty sure none of us breathed until we were all 5 safely back in the boat. It was at this point that we realized we should definitely not be out on this river minus lifejackets, helmets, and someone who knows what they're doing. It didn't make matters better that we had no idea where the vehicle was picking us up to take us back to the springs. We stopped at a fork in the river and rested a little on the shore, asking ourselves what Mark could possibly have been thinking. We had no choice but to get back in the boat and keep on keepin' on. We went over one more small waterfall, this time all staying in the raft, paddled through some areas that looked like perfect crocodile hangouts, and conquered a few more rapids. I kept feeling as if I was in a zoo exhibit for Africa. It was pretty surreal hos beautifully and essentially African the river and area was. I have expected to see people watching us, safely on the other side of a glass barrier. 3 hours after starting off (we found out later the trip should have only taken 1.5 hours), we saw the vehicle that would bring us back to Kapishya. We survived! Although there's truth to the statement that we should not have been out there by ourselves on that river, we had teh time of our lives and I'm secretly glad Mark didn't warn us about it ahead of time. A rule of thumb in Africa is to go into every situation with no expectations...you just gotta go with the flow and have faith that things will work out.
We were still on a high at dinner that night, and it was the best meal I've since since I got to Zambia. What's funny is the main cours was lasagna, something I would have gotten too excited about back in America, but the cheese was creamy goodness and the entire meal was both prepared for us and different from what we eat here every day. We were literally licking the bowls and plates clean. There were 2 british girls from Lusaka eating with us at our table. Poor girls had to eat in self-defense out of fear that we might actually take the food off their plates. The other "higher-paying" customers at the 3-course table were taking their time eating and having intellectual conversation while we were inhaling our food while also still talking about food and laughing about our rafting experience earlier that day. We were like the kids' table at family gatherings!
Our stomachs both bull and satisfied for the first time in way too long, combined with feeling emotionally and physically drained from the trauma of the day...needless to say we slept like rocks sunday night. We decided to head back to our villages on Tuesday, so Monday night Becky and I ended up hanging out at the bar with Mark, Mel, and a bunch of Brits. Becky and I hung out behind the bar with Mark for awhile and although we probably spent more than we should have we bonded with Mark and Mel and they even bought us a couple rounds. :)
Althought the break was nice and refreshing, I was looking forward to getting back home to Lufila, especially to my nice warm bed. :) Of course my bike broke while cycling to the tarmac before going to the springs and I had to bike on 1 gear for about 20k, so before I could cycle back to Lufila I had to spend a couple days in Mpika and wait for Lameck, who works for the Peace Corps in Northern Province, to drive up to my turnoff where I had to leave the bike and attempt to fix it. I stayed a couple days with Becky and we decided on a whim to get braided extensions in our hair, called "Plaiting" in Zambia. Picture 2 white girls wandering through the market looking for "Pretty Woman" fake hair (the brand to get apparently). We settled on "Darling" in reddish-brown. Although we clearly look pretty ridiculous, we provided the village entertainment while 4 women braided our hair for about 5 hours. They even fed us! It was a fun day-long even and we figured if nothing else we would do it just for the humor factor. So now we have long Zambian braids (actually Becky's have already fallen out, but I'm still sporting mine), but we basically look Jamaican. :)
Turns out I'm quickly running out of kwacha, but I have some more crazy stories that I'll try to write about this weekend when I have to go to Kasama to extend my visa. Much luv from the African Bush! Hope all is well ku America. Miss you more than lasagna...:)
Katie
Friday, June 27, 2008
Muli Shani! Since I just posted a week ago there is not much new to report, but I'm not sure when I'll be able to use internet next so I thought I would take advantage. I had to come to Mpika again this weekend to get my new malaria medicine, but it works out nicely because Becky is having a village party at her place tomorrow with food, music, dancing...should be lots of fun! The past week flew by in my village. It's crazy how time can go both slow and fast at the same time. I chucked the cat...gave it away to the little neighbor boy because it was driving me up the wall. It would not stop meowing and I knew it was time to get rid of it when I would secretly cheer on my puppy when it would attack the cat in the yard. So it's just me and little imbalala now, who is not so little anymore since after I feed her she trots over to the neighbor's house for nshima, which I refuse to make for myself, let alone the dog. Turns out I am absolutely not and will never be a cat person. (Although I might try to burrow one from someone in the village before rainy season to keep away the cats.)
Becky, Kathy, Jeanna, Danielle, and I are all going to the hot springs "near" my place to celebrate the 4th of July! I met with the owner, Mark, who is from the UK and whose brother runs Shiwa house, and I told him we were celebrating independence day. His response was, "celebrating high oil prices, and a bad president, huh?". Haha oh the british...they're just jealous because everyone is always celebrating their freedom from them. :) We are going to camp and grill out, and they even have showers and bathrooms at the campsite! It's the simple things in life...
I went for a run yesterday and at one point I could look out over the whole valley and see the large hill by the road that I have to bike to in order to get to Mpika. My booty hurt just looking at the distance, but the view was amazing...makes me wonder how I ever ran on a treadmill.
I hope you are all enjoying a HOT Minnesota summer! I miss the lakes so much, especially wakeboarding...can't do much of that here. No boat for one, and you'd probably get eaten by crocodiles if you fell in. Happy early 4th of July! Enjoy some extra sparklers for me. What do you think Mark would do if we set off fireworks at the springs? hmm... :)
Miss you all! Much love from zambia. :)
Katie
p.s. I can almost light my brasier without using my firestarters now...baby steps.
Becky, Kathy, Jeanna, Danielle, and I are all going to the hot springs "near" my place to celebrate the 4th of July! I met with the owner, Mark, who is from the UK and whose brother runs Shiwa house, and I told him we were celebrating independence day. His response was, "celebrating high oil prices, and a bad president, huh?". Haha oh the british...they're just jealous because everyone is always celebrating their freedom from them. :) We are going to camp and grill out, and they even have showers and bathrooms at the campsite! It's the simple things in life...
I went for a run yesterday and at one point I could look out over the whole valley and see the large hill by the road that I have to bike to in order to get to Mpika. My booty hurt just looking at the distance, but the view was amazing...makes me wonder how I ever ran on a treadmill.
I hope you are all enjoying a HOT Minnesota summer! I miss the lakes so much, especially wakeboarding...can't do much of that here. No boat for one, and you'd probably get eaten by crocodiles if you fell in. Happy early 4th of July! Enjoy some extra sparklers for me. What do you think Mark would do if we set off fireworks at the springs? hmm... :)
Miss you all! Much love from zambia. :)
Katie
p.s. I can almost light my brasier without using my firestarters now...baby steps.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
I made the trip back down to Mpika after almost 2 weeks in the village. I love my village, but have come to realize that there are certain telltale signs that I need to get out for a couple days. One of these is when I find myself hiding from villagers in my hut because I just don't want to greet yet another person in Bemba. I also know I need a break when I start have conversations with my pets. I've realized that there are days when I go without speaking any English, and my poor family gets there ears talked off whenever they call :) I am staying with Kathy this weekend, another volunteer who lives about 15k from Mpika. Her sight is gorgeous with an amazing view of the silhouette of the mountains and the lights of Mpika, and she is an awesome cook.
This past week was Child Health Week in Zambia, so every day I went with the clinic staff to different villages in my catchment area to give children 5 and under as well as pregnant mothers immunizations and vitamin supplements. I tried to convince the children that the vitamin A and deworming pills were sweeties, but they weren't really buying it. :) Of course the clinic staff mostly rode the motorcycle to the villages while I followed behind on my bike, but Peace Corps just gave us these sweet new Trek bikes so mine was fun to test out. Of course it makes it a little more difficult to persuade villagers that you are a poor volunteer when Peace Corps shows up in the land cruiser with a shiny new bike and accessories....but I won't complain because I get lots of use out of it. I was planning on attempting the 130k ride to the boma on Friday but after a week of biking for Child Health Week I settled on 30k to the tarmac and then hitched the rest of the way.
So one of the villages in my catchment area that is only about 7k from my village has a legitimate problem with Elephants. They storm their crops and their homes, while the community is pretty much helpless as poaching is punishable by death. The NHC members told me I could come anytime to see the elephants. I might just have to bring my tent and take them up on that. Because even though it's horrible that they are causing such problems, it's not every day in America that you see elephants storming things...
The other Mpika volunteers and I are planning a trip to the hot springs to celebrate the 4th of July! Luckily it sits right next to an African Holiday so we get about 5 days off. A bunch of us are also planning a trip to Lake Malawi right after In-Service training at the end of August. Apparently there is amazing scuba diving there.
I have become increasingly annoyed with people staring at me. It's like I am constant entertainment that never gets old for the children. Adults will stare as well. I try to greet the adults in Bemba and usually that helps, but with the children I have started making funny faces back at them and having 'staring contests'. I always win of course :) I have to remind myself daily that I am so different from them and I stand out so much that they can't help but stare. It's like a purple-colored person wandering through America. Even when I see other white people in Mpika I find myself staring at them too! I want to know what they are doing all the way out here...and I'm sure they probably wonder the same about me.
I finally got an official malaria medication switcheroo approved by the Peace Corps Medical Office. I am now taking Doxycycline, which is an antibiotic that I need to take every day the entire time I am here, which clearly isn't good for the body, but I'll take it any day over malaria.
I am becoming a little more clear as to what kind of work I can do in my village. I attended a Neighborhood Health Committee training a couple weeks ago at my Rural Health Center conducted by HCP (Health Communication Partnership), an NGO here in Zambia that basically does my job as a CAHP volunteer except they have money. My NHC's are just getting started so there is plenty of potential for capacity-building which is what I am here to do, and I hope to work with HCP to make the training complete as well as help with monitoring and evaluation. The HCP workers that I met said they have worked well with some Peace Corps volunteers in the past, and they only come to my area quarterly so I can work together with them to fill in any gaps in training as well as work with the NHC's on a more regular basis. That translates to lots of biking for me. :)
Hope all is well back home! Zambians here that follow American politics at all are pumped about Obama! Kathy gave me some Obama stickers I am going to hand out in my village....ya know, with all the people around here voting in November....
I miss you all more than cake. Much love from the Zambian bush!
Katie
This past week was Child Health Week in Zambia, so every day I went with the clinic staff to different villages in my catchment area to give children 5 and under as well as pregnant mothers immunizations and vitamin supplements. I tried to convince the children that the vitamin A and deworming pills were sweeties, but they weren't really buying it. :) Of course the clinic staff mostly rode the motorcycle to the villages while I followed behind on my bike, but Peace Corps just gave us these sweet new Trek bikes so mine was fun to test out. Of course it makes it a little more difficult to persuade villagers that you are a poor volunteer when Peace Corps shows up in the land cruiser with a shiny new bike and accessories....but I won't complain because I get lots of use out of it. I was planning on attempting the 130k ride to the boma on Friday but after a week of biking for Child Health Week I settled on 30k to the tarmac and then hitched the rest of the way.
So one of the villages in my catchment area that is only about 7k from my village has a legitimate problem with Elephants. They storm their crops and their homes, while the community is pretty much helpless as poaching is punishable by death. The NHC members told me I could come anytime to see the elephants. I might just have to bring my tent and take them up on that. Because even though it's horrible that they are causing such problems, it's not every day in America that you see elephants storming things...
The other Mpika volunteers and I are planning a trip to the hot springs to celebrate the 4th of July! Luckily it sits right next to an African Holiday so we get about 5 days off. A bunch of us are also planning a trip to Lake Malawi right after In-Service training at the end of August. Apparently there is amazing scuba diving there.
I have become increasingly annoyed with people staring at me. It's like I am constant entertainment that never gets old for the children. Adults will stare as well. I try to greet the adults in Bemba and usually that helps, but with the children I have started making funny faces back at them and having 'staring contests'. I always win of course :) I have to remind myself daily that I am so different from them and I stand out so much that they can't help but stare. It's like a purple-colored person wandering through America. Even when I see other white people in Mpika I find myself staring at them too! I want to know what they are doing all the way out here...and I'm sure they probably wonder the same about me.
I finally got an official malaria medication switcheroo approved by the Peace Corps Medical Office. I am now taking Doxycycline, which is an antibiotic that I need to take every day the entire time I am here, which clearly isn't good for the body, but I'll take it any day over malaria.
I am becoming a little more clear as to what kind of work I can do in my village. I attended a Neighborhood Health Committee training a couple weeks ago at my Rural Health Center conducted by HCP (Health Communication Partnership), an NGO here in Zambia that basically does my job as a CAHP volunteer except they have money. My NHC's are just getting started so there is plenty of potential for capacity-building which is what I am here to do, and I hope to work with HCP to make the training complete as well as help with monitoring and evaluation. The HCP workers that I met said they have worked well with some Peace Corps volunteers in the past, and they only come to my area quarterly so I can work together with them to fill in any gaps in training as well as work with the NHC's on a more regular basis. That translates to lots of biking for me. :)
Hope all is well back home! Zambians here that follow American politics at all are pumped about Obama! Kathy gave me some Obama stickers I am going to hand out in my village....ya know, with all the people around here voting in November....
I miss you all more than cake. Much love from the Zambian bush!
Katie
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Mwapoleni bonse! I'm back in Kasama now for Provincial meetings. I got in yesterday and after 2.5 hours on my bike with my tent, sleeping bag, and backpack, then about 4 hours in transport vehicles I just about collapsed after arriving at the Peace Corps house last night. (After my highly-anticipated hot shower and a couple cold beers of course.) A bunch of volunteers were already at the house so it was nice to see people and hang out, and the rest will get in today. Meetings are all day tomorrow, then this weekend a few of us are going to head to Chishimba Falls near kasama to see the waterfalls and camp.
The past couple weeks in my village have gone pretty well. I attended my first under-5 outreach clinic with my counterpart in a village about 36k away from my own last wednesday. My counterpart was pretty upset at the turnout, as he was anticipating more mothers to come. They bring their children for immunizations and vitamin supplements, and babies are weighed as well. Basically it's lots of wailing babies, but they are so adorable! It is also an outreach to the village to provide birth control and also educate on safemotherhood, HIV during pregnancy, family planning, etc. Although I was just an observer at this first clinic, in the future I will participate in the educational component as well as get to weigh some babies (and most likely get peed on). Malnutrition in children is a major issue here in rural Zambia. It was one thing to read and learn about conditions such as marasmus and kwashiorkor during training that produce bleached/lightened hair and swollen bellies in children, but quite another to actually see the effects of malnutrition first-hand. Families here are so large and resources for proper nutrition are not readily available (I even worry about my own nutrition in the village). Under-5 clinics are a great way to reach very rural villages who otherwise would not be able to take their children to the Rural Health Center, and the opportunity for health education is great, but they are ineffective if only a small number of mothers show up. This will be an obstacle I will attempt to tackle as a volunteer here. This three months of community entry time is helping me to see the great number of opportunities there are for me to work with my community and help develop their abilities to reach out to community members and motivate them to take responsibility for their health (since the government of Zambia has delegated that responsibility to them).
Last weekend, Lonnie, a retired peace corps volunteer who drives me to Mpika a lot (I think I mentioned him in an earlier post), wanted to introduce me to the people that run Shiwa house about 30k from where I live. Talk about surreal moments in Zambia. Shiwa is a huge colonial british mansion that was built in the 1800's I believe by a British family that moved to Zambia for development aid. The original owner of the house was actually the first and only white person to receive a government burial from President Kaonde, as he was key in helping Zambia gain their independence from Britain. His decendents now run the house and people fly in from all over the world (in their private jets of course...there is a landing strip on the property) to stay at the house, dropping thousands of dollars in a matter of days. The house is absolutely gorgeous (needless to say my mud hut pales in comparison) and I got to meet and have tea with Charles, the british owner. He even offered me a free stay in the house anytime I would like to stop by! I explained to him where I was living and what I was doing in the village, and he said "call me old-fashioned but I can't believe they allow you girls to live way out here in the villages"...haha. Clearly he thinks I'm hardcore (wink!) He gave me his number, the house number, and his son's number (he's single and in his 20's....I think Lonnie is playing match-maker) in case I get into any trouble in my village and need to get out. In case of emergency they are great people with vehicles who could help me, but let's hope a situation like that never arises (knock on wood). At least it gives me peace of mind.
My neighbor next door just had a baby boy, so precious! I had dinner with them the other night, chicken (yummy!) for the special occasion, and I got to hold him all bundled up in about 10 blankets. They gave me some money to buy some baby clothes here in Kasama, so I'm going shopping after I finish with the internet.
The transition to village life has gotten easier with each passing week. It's hard to believe I was posted over a month ago! I went to a soccer game in my village last Sunday, and it was so much fun to watch, they were so good! They even played with kleats and uniforms which is almost unheard of in village games. However, maybe 30 minutes into the game there was a disagreement about a penalty kick was called. The opposing team refused to give up the kick, and pretty soon the entire village was out on the field arguing with eachother. Then the game was over. Everyone just got up and left. I felt as if I was the only one who was surprised by all this. Ha! Something that would never happen in America....but I guess there is a rematch next weekend.
My kitty, puppy, and I are like a happy little family in my mud hut. I talk to them a lot as if they are people...but they keep me company and although I regretted buying them at first because of the maintenance I am glad they are there to greet me when I come home! They didn't get along at all at first, but the other night while I was eating dinner (cold corn from the can because I didn't feel like lighting up my brasier) they were both curled up together on my lap sleeping. I love my puppy, and the cat has it's moments when it isn't completely annoying, but it has killed a couple mice so I let it stick around.
Andrew Jo, the PCVL (peace corps volunteer leader) came to visit my site last week, and since I'm so far out he just spent the night. He was my first company and it was so nice to have someone to talk to in English about concerns, things that are going well, village life, etc. We made a big mexican feast that I would probably never attempt on my own. And the result of his visit is that my village thinks he's my husband...haha. They just can't fathom the fact that I am not married and don't have children. There was one woman at the under-5 clinic who was 22 and already had 4 children. Women my age in Zambia are breastfeeding and working out in the fields....while I am still figuring out exactly what it is I want to do with my life. They say I am like a soldier because I ride my bike and that I am very strong. I tell them that Zambian women are the strongest women I have met. Anyone who can carry 20 liters of water on their head while also carrying a baby on their back (in the hot African sun of course) will beat me any day in a competition of strength.
I hope all is well on the other side of the world. I hear small tidbits about the upcoming election. I'm disappointed I'll miss all the craziness surrounding it all. I just gotta figure out how to vote from here....
Miss you all! Sending you all my love from Zambia.
Katie
The past couple weeks in my village have gone pretty well. I attended my first under-5 outreach clinic with my counterpart in a village about 36k away from my own last wednesday. My counterpart was pretty upset at the turnout, as he was anticipating more mothers to come. They bring their children for immunizations and vitamin supplements, and babies are weighed as well. Basically it's lots of wailing babies, but they are so adorable! It is also an outreach to the village to provide birth control and also educate on safemotherhood, HIV during pregnancy, family planning, etc. Although I was just an observer at this first clinic, in the future I will participate in the educational component as well as get to weigh some babies (and most likely get peed on). Malnutrition in children is a major issue here in rural Zambia. It was one thing to read and learn about conditions such as marasmus and kwashiorkor during training that produce bleached/lightened hair and swollen bellies in children, but quite another to actually see the effects of malnutrition first-hand. Families here are so large and resources for proper nutrition are not readily available (I even worry about my own nutrition in the village). Under-5 clinics are a great way to reach very rural villages who otherwise would not be able to take their children to the Rural Health Center, and the opportunity for health education is great, but they are ineffective if only a small number of mothers show up. This will be an obstacle I will attempt to tackle as a volunteer here. This three months of community entry time is helping me to see the great number of opportunities there are for me to work with my community and help develop their abilities to reach out to community members and motivate them to take responsibility for their health (since the government of Zambia has delegated that responsibility to them).
Last weekend, Lonnie, a retired peace corps volunteer who drives me to Mpika a lot (I think I mentioned him in an earlier post), wanted to introduce me to the people that run Shiwa house about 30k from where I live. Talk about surreal moments in Zambia. Shiwa is a huge colonial british mansion that was built in the 1800's I believe by a British family that moved to Zambia for development aid. The original owner of the house was actually the first and only white person to receive a government burial from President Kaonde, as he was key in helping Zambia gain their independence from Britain. His decendents now run the house and people fly in from all over the world (in their private jets of course...there is a landing strip on the property) to stay at the house, dropping thousands of dollars in a matter of days. The house is absolutely gorgeous (needless to say my mud hut pales in comparison) and I got to meet and have tea with Charles, the british owner. He even offered me a free stay in the house anytime I would like to stop by! I explained to him where I was living and what I was doing in the village, and he said "call me old-fashioned but I can't believe they allow you girls to live way out here in the villages"...haha. Clearly he thinks I'm hardcore (wink!) He gave me his number, the house number, and his son's number (he's single and in his 20's....I think Lonnie is playing match-maker) in case I get into any trouble in my village and need to get out. In case of emergency they are great people with vehicles who could help me, but let's hope a situation like that never arises (knock on wood). At least it gives me peace of mind.
My neighbor next door just had a baby boy, so precious! I had dinner with them the other night, chicken (yummy!) for the special occasion, and I got to hold him all bundled up in about 10 blankets. They gave me some money to buy some baby clothes here in Kasama, so I'm going shopping after I finish with the internet.
The transition to village life has gotten easier with each passing week. It's hard to believe I was posted over a month ago! I went to a soccer game in my village last Sunday, and it was so much fun to watch, they were so good! They even played with kleats and uniforms which is almost unheard of in village games. However, maybe 30 minutes into the game there was a disagreement about a penalty kick was called. The opposing team refused to give up the kick, and pretty soon the entire village was out on the field arguing with eachother. Then the game was over. Everyone just got up and left. I felt as if I was the only one who was surprised by all this. Ha! Something that would never happen in America....but I guess there is a rematch next weekend.
My kitty, puppy, and I are like a happy little family in my mud hut. I talk to them a lot as if they are people...but they keep me company and although I regretted buying them at first because of the maintenance I am glad they are there to greet me when I come home! They didn't get along at all at first, but the other night while I was eating dinner (cold corn from the can because I didn't feel like lighting up my brasier) they were both curled up together on my lap sleeping. I love my puppy, and the cat has it's moments when it isn't completely annoying, but it has killed a couple mice so I let it stick around.
Andrew Jo, the PCVL (peace corps volunteer leader) came to visit my site last week, and since I'm so far out he just spent the night. He was my first company and it was so nice to have someone to talk to in English about concerns, things that are going well, village life, etc. We made a big mexican feast that I would probably never attempt on my own. And the result of his visit is that my village thinks he's my husband...haha. They just can't fathom the fact that I am not married and don't have children. There was one woman at the under-5 clinic who was 22 and already had 4 children. Women my age in Zambia are breastfeeding and working out in the fields....while I am still figuring out exactly what it is I want to do with my life. They say I am like a soldier because I ride my bike and that I am very strong. I tell them that Zambian women are the strongest women I have met. Anyone who can carry 20 liters of water on their head while also carrying a baby on their back (in the hot African sun of course) will beat me any day in a competition of strength.
I hope all is well on the other side of the world. I hear small tidbits about the upcoming election. I'm disappointed I'll miss all the craziness surrounding it all. I just gotta figure out how to vote from here....
Miss you all! Sending you all my love from Zambia.
Katie
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