Sorry for not putting much on in the last month of my stay in Zambia. I really had better intentions, for awhile anyways. I had even written some, put them on a flash, and brought them to school but for some reason they didn't work. After that I just sort of stopped.
I felt now that the year is complete I should post at least a brief concluding note. The year was tremendous for me - I truly enjoyed getting to know the staff and students at both schools where I worked and I was able to see much of Zambia. To quote the Zambian national anthem, Zambia was my "land of work and joy in unity." Every day I gained tremendous meaning from my interaction with the students and my teaching. I was truly blessed to have had this amazing opportunity. For that I am very thankful to the schools for their tremendously warm welcome and to MCC for doing the ground work to set it all up.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
The Top 5 Made in Zambia Products...and the Top 5 Things Zambia Should Import
The government here has recently bemoaned the slow start to the "Buy Zambian!" advertisement campaign. I guess I'll do my part by highlighting what I think are the top 5 made in Zambia products that I use on a regular basis. I'll balance this out with the top 5 products that Zambia should import because they are made here so poorly (aka the top 5 worst products made in Zambia). While making this list though, I realized that many of the items on my list were probably actually made in Zimbabwe. So maybe it is the things that should be acquired from somewhere other than Zambia or Zimbabwe.
1. Cabana and Maheu - these are two beverages that have won a place in my heart. The former is a milky-fruit drink, the other is a maize based sweet beverage that not only quenches your thirst but satisfies your hunger.
2. Chiccos (see today's post).
3. Peanut butter - Zambia actually makes some pretty decent peanut butter. And, judging by the label on the side of the container, it is really quite natural - just some peanuts, oil, and salt.
4. Laundry paste - Zambia has many different militaristic-sounding brands that all, for some reason start with 'B'. The main ones are "Boom" and "Bullet" but there is a third one that I've seen around called "Bazooka." Watch TV for a few minutes and you will see plenty of advertisements for the first two.
5. Grenadilla Squash - Squash is something made by many companies in Zambia (some much better than others). You use it to make water into juice. Just pour a little into the bottom third of your cup and add water to the top. Grenadilla (aka passion fruit) is by far the best flavour. My host dad used to always by Pineapple flavour (and I think had been for years) but when he discovered Grenadilla once by accident he will never go back, and I am thankful for it.
The Top 5 Things Zambia Really Needs to Import (or should get from somewhere other than Zimbabwe):
1. Television: anything Zambian made on television is, at its best, the equivalent of a local cable channel in North America. At its worst you can see the actor start the camera before entering the scene. Fortunately, much of Zambian TV is already imported (from all over the world, I might add).
2. Jam: I'm not actually sure if the jam here is made in Zambia or in Zimbabwe. All I know is that the "Mixed Fruit" jam that most people eat is far removed from fruit. I think they just stick a few apple cores and melon rinds in a blender, add some sugar, and call it jam. Some people say it tastes like ketchup. I don't quite see that, but I'm looking forward to real jam.
3. Margarine: I reported earlier that Gold Band margarine smelt so bad that I could hardly have it as the same table as me. I maintain that stance and won't touch the stuff. It is just so incredibly bad one wonders how they are able to call it margarine.
4. OK, I've run out of ideas and I have to get going. Nothing is really manufactured in Zambia. I should have realized this before attempting the list. After all, I am teaching this to my Grade 9 Civics class right now. Zambia exports agricultural products (ie sugar and maize), and minerals (especially copper) but imports manufactured goods. No wonder this side of the list never got very far.
1. Cabana and Maheu - these are two beverages that have won a place in my heart. The former is a milky-fruit drink, the other is a maize based sweet beverage that not only quenches your thirst but satisfies your hunger.
2. Chiccos (see today's post).
3. Peanut butter - Zambia actually makes some pretty decent peanut butter. And, judging by the label on the side of the container, it is really quite natural - just some peanuts, oil, and salt.
4. Laundry paste - Zambia has many different militaristic-sounding brands that all, for some reason start with 'B'. The main ones are "Boom" and "Bullet" but there is a third one that I've seen around called "Bazooka." Watch TV for a few minutes and you will see plenty of advertisements for the first two.
5. Grenadilla Squash - Squash is something made by many companies in Zambia (some much better than others). You use it to make water into juice. Just pour a little into the bottom third of your cup and add water to the top. Grenadilla (aka passion fruit) is by far the best flavour. My host dad used to always by Pineapple flavour (and I think had been for years) but when he discovered Grenadilla once by accident he will never go back, and I am thankful for it.
The Top 5 Things Zambia Really Needs to Import (or should get from somewhere other than Zimbabwe):
1. Television: anything Zambian made on television is, at its best, the equivalent of a local cable channel in North America. At its worst you can see the actor start the camera before entering the scene. Fortunately, much of Zambian TV is already imported (from all over the world, I might add).
2. Jam: I'm not actually sure if the jam here is made in Zambia or in Zimbabwe. All I know is that the "Mixed Fruit" jam that most people eat is far removed from fruit. I think they just stick a few apple cores and melon rinds in a blender, add some sugar, and call it jam. Some people say it tastes like ketchup. I don't quite see that, but I'm looking forward to real jam.
3. Margarine: I reported earlier that Gold Band margarine smelt so bad that I could hardly have it as the same table as me. I maintain that stance and won't touch the stuff. It is just so incredibly bad one wonders how they are able to call it margarine.
4. OK, I've run out of ideas and I have to get going. Nothing is really manufactured in Zambia. I should have realized this before attempting the list. After all, I am teaching this to my Grade 9 Civics class right now. Zambia exports agricultural products (ie sugar and maize), and minerals (especially copper) but imports manufactured goods. No wonder this side of the list never got very far.
Chicco Biscuits...A Quality Product at a Quality Price
I do a lot of snacking these days. This is probably a combination of the early morning breakfasts which leave a long time till the late lunches, the long bike rides, and the desire to be as full as possible before settling into a lunch of dried fish or kapenta (or achieving an alternate taste in my mouth afterwards). I often try and get some fritters (a deep-fried dough product; it is sort of a cousin to a doughnut) but, if there aren't any fresh fritters around my next choice is a package of Chicco biscuits.
Chiccos are square cookies and come in packs of two. In Lusaka one pack costs K500 ($0.12ish) so they certainly fit the budget. Every little shop sells them and since there is a little shop every 10 metres along the road they are very easy to get a hold of.
Here are the Chicco flavours in my order of preference:
1. Malt 'n Milk: The creme de la creme of Chiccos.
2. Chocolate: this was the first flavour I had and it remains a favourite.
3. Banana: this is a brand new flavour (exciting stuff!) and is surprisingly good. I thought it would taste like the banana medicine that I'm sure every North American child has had some exposure to, but they actually taste alright.
4. Coconut: this is one of the "original" flavours and I thought it was pretty good. That was, at least, until I discovered Malt 'n Milk.
5. Strawberry: another new flavour. Think of a strawberry wafer except with no icing, just wafer. Then make it significantly thicker. The result is not all that great.
6. Orange: These last two are a toss up because they both taste downright horrible. I have never been a fan of orange cookies, and Chiccos didn't even come up with a reasonable facsimile of something that might taste good. One time a student had some in class (not allowed) and I confiscated it. To make my point I thought I would take a bite or two, but found that one was more than enough for me.
7. Butter: Think of sinking your teeth into a bar of margarine, except one that is hard and is shaped like a cookie. Blech!
So that is my brief introduction to a Zambian product that both tastes good and comes and at a very reasonable price.
Chiccos are square cookies and come in packs of two. In Lusaka one pack costs K500 ($0.12ish) so they certainly fit the budget. Every little shop sells them and since there is a little shop every 10 metres along the road they are very easy to get a hold of.
Here are the Chicco flavours in my order of preference:
1. Malt 'n Milk: The creme de la creme of Chiccos.
2. Chocolate: this was the first flavour I had and it remains a favourite.
3. Banana: this is a brand new flavour (exciting stuff!) and is surprisingly good. I thought it would taste like the banana medicine that I'm sure every North American child has had some exposure to, but they actually taste alright.
4. Coconut: this is one of the "original" flavours and I thought it was pretty good. That was, at least, until I discovered Malt 'n Milk.
5. Strawberry: another new flavour. Think of a strawberry wafer except with no icing, just wafer. Then make it significantly thicker. The result is not all that great.
6. Orange: These last two are a toss up because they both taste downright horrible. I have never been a fan of orange cookies, and Chiccos didn't even come up with a reasonable facsimile of something that might taste good. One time a student had some in class (not allowed) and I confiscated it. To make my point I thought I would take a bite or two, but found that one was more than enough for me.
7. Butter: Think of sinking your teeth into a bar of margarine, except one that is hard and is shaped like a cookie. Blech!
So that is my brief introduction to a Zambian product that both tastes good and comes and at a very reasonable price.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Chasing Day
One of the sad realities at any school where pupils have to pay to attend is that, when they don't, there are consequences. Both my schools rely on student fees to provide for almost the entire operating budget as there is no government funding. These fees are not all that large, but for people with low (or no) incomes they can be difficult to pay. Then again, there are also those who just don't really care about their children's education and so don't bother to pay. I think that generally the schools have significant pity for the former but none for the latter.
To make parents pay up, schools have a policy of "chasing" those who have yet to pay. Starting a couple weeks into the term and on a regular basis from then on, the headmaster will go to each class with the list of who has and has not paid. Those who haven't paid yet will be taken outside, yelled at for awhile, and then "chased" - sent home. I never really have gotten used to the sight of large portions of a class being taken outside and disciplined in this matter. It is also a little bizarre to teach on "chasing day" because your class is suddenly half full. If you have a class of 40, and twenty of them have been chased, you get a pleasant class size of 20 for the day.
"Chasing" is a reality of community school life. After all, the school needs to receive the school fees to pay for maintenance and, hopefully, the teachers. Nonetheless, I can't say that I like being around when the exercise takes place. I feel sorry for some of the kids because they can't afford to pay, and for others because their parents don't bother paying.
To make parents pay up, schools have a policy of "chasing" those who have yet to pay. Starting a couple weeks into the term and on a regular basis from then on, the headmaster will go to each class with the list of who has and has not paid. Those who haven't paid yet will be taken outside, yelled at for awhile, and then "chased" - sent home. I never really have gotten used to the sight of large portions of a class being taken outside and disciplined in this matter. It is also a little bizarre to teach on "chasing day" because your class is suddenly half full. If you have a class of 40, and twenty of them have been chased, you get a pleasant class size of 20 for the day.
"Chasing" is a reality of community school life. After all, the school needs to receive the school fees to pay for maintenance and, hopefully, the teachers. Nonetheless, I can't say that I like being around when the exercise takes place. I feel sorry for some of the kids because they can't afford to pay, and for others because their parents don't bother paying.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Where is the Ball?
I found a video of a hockey game at the MCC Guest House a while ago and last week I got the chance to show it to my host family. This was after a long conversation the night before where I was explaining to my host father the details of hockey and curling. He was really interested in the business side of the whole thing - how much were players paid, how big were the facilities, etc., but also was keen to see hockey in action.
Everyone gathered around the TV and I tried to explain what was going on. They were really impressed that people could move on ice like that. For sure, they kept saying, people should be falling down and losing their balance. Every time someone would start skating fast there would be some excitement as the Zambians could hardly believe that someone could do such a thing.
My host mom also kept asking, "where is the ball?" I guess we needed an American FOX-style comet tail. I sat by the TV and used my finger to show where the puck was going. I guess that following the puck is a bit of a learned skill after all.
The final factor that impressed them was the cold. The game that I had was the outdoor game in Edmonton from a few years ago so it was actually legitimately cold, -20 degrees or so. Right now we are pretty cold here and it is about 10 degrees, maybe a little colder, at night. Temperatures in the negatives were a bit of a stretch for them.
After watching a period it was time for bed. Hopefully we'll watch some more one day. If not, at least I've done my part to spread the gospel of hockey.
Everyone gathered around the TV and I tried to explain what was going on. They were really impressed that people could move on ice like that. For sure, they kept saying, people should be falling down and losing their balance. Every time someone would start skating fast there would be some excitement as the Zambians could hardly believe that someone could do such a thing.
My host mom also kept asking, "where is the ball?" I guess we needed an American FOX-style comet tail. I sat by the TV and used my finger to show where the puck was going. I guess that following the puck is a bit of a learned skill after all.
The final factor that impressed them was the cold. The game that I had was the outdoor game in Edmonton from a few years ago so it was actually legitimately cold, -20 degrees or so. Right now we are pretty cold here and it is about 10 degrees, maybe a little colder, at night. Temperatures in the negatives were a bit of a stretch for them.
After watching a period it was time for bed. Hopefully we'll watch some more one day. If not, at least I've done my part to spread the gospel of hockey.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Zambia Update
Seeing as Zambian news is probably not coming from the mouth of Peter Mansbridge any time soon here are my top 5 Zambian news stories of 2006-7.
1. The Zambian election: President Mwanawasa was re-elected for a second (and final) five year term. The Patriotic Front and its aggressive leader, Michael Sata, cry foul and continue to exchange insults with the ruling party (the MMD). The two are bitter rivals with a long history of hate between them so the war of words goes back and forth with some regularity.
2. President Chiluba guilty of corruption. A British court found Chiluba guilty in a civil case regarding approximately $40 million of misappropriated money. Chiluba, who clings to an illness as an excuse to avoid court dates, will likely soon face a long awaited criminal trial in Zambia. Chiluba left office in 2001 (after Zambians overwhelmingly opposed the idea of him changing the constitution to allow himself to hold on to power) and his handpicked successor, Mwanawasa, has since been pursuing corruption charges against him. In another war of words, Chiluba and Zambia's first president, Kenneth Kaunda, who also hate each other, bicker regularly through the media as well.
3. Zambia loses to a vulture fund. Zambia recently received significant debt relief but these benefits may all be for not after they lost in court to a "vulture fund" and will be forced to pay up money that could otherwise have been used for health or education. The debt, which originated with a tractor purchase from Romania in the 1970s, was nearly written off in the early 1990s before the vulture fund snatched it up.
4. The government continues to face off against the opposition parties and numerous NGOs over the enactment of a new constitution. The long awaited process, which has yet to really get off the ground, is needed to revamp the current constitution in order to, among other things, reduce the power of the president. Naturally the president wants to wait as long into his five years as he can before getting moving on something that will limit his own powers, instead wanting to leave it to his successor to live with the consequences.
5. The Keep Zambia Clean campaign begins in earnest with the destruction of the homes of numerous people living in "illegal" settlements and pushing vendors off city streets. Most vendors were on the streets in the first place because there was not enough market space to hold them so simply removing them without providing an alternative doesn't seem like a terribly effective solution. This one did make international news, if only briefly. Oh well, it did accomplish one thing - the downtown streets are much cleaner. Now if only they could do something about the rotting garbage everywhere.
1. The Zambian election: President Mwanawasa was re-elected for a second (and final) five year term. The Patriotic Front and its aggressive leader, Michael Sata, cry foul and continue to exchange insults with the ruling party (the MMD). The two are bitter rivals with a long history of hate between them so the war of words goes back and forth with some regularity.
2. President Chiluba guilty of corruption. A British court found Chiluba guilty in a civil case regarding approximately $40 million of misappropriated money. Chiluba, who clings to an illness as an excuse to avoid court dates, will likely soon face a long awaited criminal trial in Zambia. Chiluba left office in 2001 (after Zambians overwhelmingly opposed the idea of him changing the constitution to allow himself to hold on to power) and his handpicked successor, Mwanawasa, has since been pursuing corruption charges against him. In another war of words, Chiluba and Zambia's first president, Kenneth Kaunda, who also hate each other, bicker regularly through the media as well.
3. Zambia loses to a vulture fund. Zambia recently received significant debt relief but these benefits may all be for not after they lost in court to a "vulture fund" and will be forced to pay up money that could otherwise have been used for health or education. The debt, which originated with a tractor purchase from Romania in the 1970s, was nearly written off in the early 1990s before the vulture fund snatched it up.
4. The government continues to face off against the opposition parties and numerous NGOs over the enactment of a new constitution. The long awaited process, which has yet to really get off the ground, is needed to revamp the current constitution in order to, among other things, reduce the power of the president. Naturally the president wants to wait as long into his five years as he can before getting moving on something that will limit his own powers, instead wanting to leave it to his successor to live with the consequences.
5. The Keep Zambia Clean campaign begins in earnest with the destruction of the homes of numerous people living in "illegal" settlements and pushing vendors off city streets. Most vendors were on the streets in the first place because there was not enough market space to hold them so simply removing them without providing an alternative doesn't seem like a terribly effective solution. This one did make international news, if only briefly. Oh well, it did accomplish one thing - the downtown streets are much cleaner. Now if only they could do something about the rotting garbage everywhere.
50 Days . . . 50 Adventures
As of yesterday, there were 50 days left in my Zambian stay. That is pretty scary - time is really flying by. I guess now when people ask when I'm leaving I can say "next month." There are a lot of good things to look forward to about going home, and a lot of things that I'm really going to miss. In the meanwhile I might as well pack in as many adventures as I can.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Murder in Macha
Took what may be my last real trip out of town this past weekend, this time to visit fellow MCCers in Macha, a small community a couple hours off the main road in Southern Province.
It is always interesting getting out and seeing very different parts of the country than the one that I live in. Although there are naturally many similarities, the quiet and calm rural atmosphere paints a stark contrast in comparison with the bustling city. I think that that is what I notice the most about rural Zambia - the quietness and the sense of calm and peace. When you get into the compounds here there is lots of excitement and things happening. I guess both have positives to them and so it is nice to be able to witness the other side of the country.
Although Macha may be insignificant in terms of national history and politics, it is central to the identity of Zambian BICs. It was here 100 years ago that a Kansan woman named Frances Davidson established the first BIC mission in the country. It is still home to the largest BIC congregation in the country, the surrounding area is dotted with numerous BIC schools and Macha has a BIC hospital. The other main feature of Macha is a malaria research institute funded by Johns Hopkins University in the US. The result is that, for a rural area, there are huge numbers of white people around. When I was there, for example, we were looking around the hospital when a group of 15 white students from Messiah College (a BIC institution in the US) came around the corner. Don't see such large groups of muzunguness every day!
We spent a bunch of time looking around the area on bike seeing the sites - a dam, the school, the air strip, some villages, the water tower, etc. Pretty exciting stuff. There was a peer education workshop for which I was asked to help contribute something on media influence with another MCCer. We made as good a presentation as one can make with two minutes of prep work, but media influence didn't seem particularly relevant when many in the group came from villages where there really isn't a whole lot of media.
Probably the highlight was Saturday. A goat had been purchased and was bleating in the back yard of an MCC worker. We had someone who knew what they were doing kill it with us, skin it, and cut up all the meat which we then braiied (barbecued). Every step along the way was documented by photographs (the last time they had done this it was all videotaped; not having such technology I had to resort to still photography). The guy who did it was incredibly skilled - all the cuts were precise and nothing was wasted. I don't think I had ever participated in the killing of an animal before, at least not in such an intimate way, but still find myself firmly in the meat-eating camp. In fact, it tasted incredible!
Otherwise the weekend was just spent relaxing: visiting, watching movies, playing games, and so on.
It is always interesting getting out and seeing very different parts of the country than the one that I live in. Although there are naturally many similarities, the quiet and calm rural atmosphere paints a stark contrast in comparison with the bustling city. I think that that is what I notice the most about rural Zambia - the quietness and the sense of calm and peace. When you get into the compounds here there is lots of excitement and things happening. I guess both have positives to them and so it is nice to be able to witness the other side of the country.
Although Macha may be insignificant in terms of national history and politics, it is central to the identity of Zambian BICs. It was here 100 years ago that a Kansan woman named Frances Davidson established the first BIC mission in the country. It is still home to the largest BIC congregation in the country, the surrounding area is dotted with numerous BIC schools and Macha has a BIC hospital. The other main feature of Macha is a malaria research institute funded by Johns Hopkins University in the US. The result is that, for a rural area, there are huge numbers of white people around. When I was there, for example, we were looking around the hospital when a group of 15 white students from Messiah College (a BIC institution in the US) came around the corner. Don't see such large groups of muzunguness every day!
We spent a bunch of time looking around the area on bike seeing the sites - a dam, the school, the air strip, some villages, the water tower, etc. Pretty exciting stuff. There was a peer education workshop for which I was asked to help contribute something on media influence with another MCCer. We made as good a presentation as one can make with two minutes of prep work, but media influence didn't seem particularly relevant when many in the group came from villages where there really isn't a whole lot of media.
Probably the highlight was Saturday. A goat had been purchased and was bleating in the back yard of an MCC worker. We had someone who knew what they were doing kill it with us, skin it, and cut up all the meat which we then braiied (barbecued). Every step along the way was documented by photographs (the last time they had done this it was all videotaped; not having such technology I had to resort to still photography). The guy who did it was incredibly skilled - all the cuts were precise and nothing was wasted. I don't think I had ever participated in the killing of an animal before, at least not in such an intimate way, but still find myself firmly in the meat-eating camp. In fact, it tasted incredible!
Otherwise the weekend was just spent relaxing: visiting, watching movies, playing games, and so on.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Malaria Moments
When I awoke on Friday I knew that something was amiss. My stomach was feeling really quite awful, but I thought that maybe the bike ride to work would make things feel better. After all, a few times I have had a queasy stomach that has settled down over the course of the day.
This time, no such luck. As I continued at work, I kept getting more and more tired,to the point where I was asleep on the director's couch. Fortunately, one of my MCC colleagues was at school working on the computers so I was able to get a ride with him to the doctor where it was confirmed: I had malaria.
I figured that this was a mixed blessing: if I had to suffer it might as well be something recognizable as opposed to miscellaneous but miserable stomach ailment. At the same time, one hears enough malaria horrible stories to want to tempt fate too much.
For the rest of the day I was confined to bed, hardly able to think let alone move. Sometimes I was chilled and had blanket after blanket piled on me, and at other times I was really hot. The upset stomach continued throughout the day, culminating in one unfortunate moment late in the afternoon. Otherwise I slept, and slept, and slept.
By Day 2 the cure had really started kicking in. I was tired and not up for a whole lot but was able to be up and about reading and watching TV and eating relatively normally. Day 3 was even better. Today I went to the clinic and was proclaimed cured. I am still pretty tired - to the point where I'm doubting my ability to teach this afternoon - but otherwise feel pretty fine. The anti-malarials I take regularly helped take the sting off it and the cure worked pretty efficiently.
I guess now I can say I have had the big M. It wasn't pleasant, but at least its over.
This time, no such luck. As I continued at work, I kept getting more and more tired,to the point where I was asleep on the director's couch. Fortunately, one of my MCC colleagues was at school working on the computers so I was able to get a ride with him to the doctor where it was confirmed: I had malaria.
I figured that this was a mixed blessing: if I had to suffer it might as well be something recognizable as opposed to miscellaneous but miserable stomach ailment. At the same time, one hears enough malaria horrible stories to want to tempt fate too much.
For the rest of the day I was confined to bed, hardly able to think let alone move. Sometimes I was chilled and had blanket after blanket piled on me, and at other times I was really hot. The upset stomach continued throughout the day, culminating in one unfortunate moment late in the afternoon. Otherwise I slept, and slept, and slept.
By Day 2 the cure had really started kicking in. I was tired and not up for a whole lot but was able to be up and about reading and watching TV and eating relatively normally. Day 3 was even better. Today I went to the clinic and was proclaimed cured. I am still pretty tired - to the point where I'm doubting my ability to teach this afternoon - but otherwise feel pretty fine. The anti-malarials I take regularly helped take the sting off it and the cure worked pretty efficiently.
I guess now I can say I have had the big M. It wasn't pleasant, but at least its over.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Winter Sets In
Some how, before coming here, I had the illusion that Africa is always hot. Let me tell you now that it is not. As North Americans are now safely beyond the grasp of winter (let's hope!), Zambia is slowly settling into it. This is not a frost and snow kind of winter but it can get pretty cold nonetheless. This is exacerbated by the fact that houses are not built to keep cold out. The exterior wall of my room is mostly window; a window which leaked heat in the hot season and now cold in the cold season. In fact, the temperature inside the window is pretty much equivalent to the outside temperature, and my bed is right by the window.
Temperatures were pretty comfortable before leaving for Zanzibar. My first taste of winter came the night after I got back and I woke up sometime very early in the morning because it was cold. I checked the thermometer on my alarm clock and it told me that it was just under 15 degrees. The next day I got another blanket from MCC which was a smart move because, when I checked the temperature the next morning, the thermometer (located about a foot above my head) was reading a balmy 12.7 degrees.
I am now decked out for winter. My bed has been reinforced with the second blanket. I had a wonderful salaula sweater but unfortunately I left it on the bus when I came home from Zambezi. I even invested about $1.25 in a touque. If it keeps getting colder I may just have to use it some time. Since the coldest months are June and July, I just might have to. On the plus side, the days are still warm and it is a lot nicer to bike on a cool morning than a hot one.
Temperatures were pretty comfortable before leaving for Zanzibar. My first taste of winter came the night after I got back and I woke up sometime very early in the morning because it was cold. I checked the thermometer on my alarm clock and it told me that it was just under 15 degrees. The next day I got another blanket from MCC which was a smart move because, when I checked the temperature the next morning, the thermometer (located about a foot above my head) was reading a balmy 12.7 degrees.
I am now decked out for winter. My bed has been reinforced with the second blanket. I had a wonderful salaula sweater but unfortunately I left it on the bus when I came home from Zambezi. I even invested about $1.25 in a touque. If it keeps getting colder I may just have to use it some time. Since the coldest months are June and July, I just might have to. On the plus side, the days are still warm and it is a lot nicer to bike on a cool morning than a hot one.
26 Hours In a Truck
Once again there has been a lapse in entries, this time due to a trip I took to Zambia's Northwestern Province. MCC was providing some blankets for the Nazarene Compassionate Ministries program there to distribute to victims of recent flooding and I got to tag along to see the sights and take some pictures of the distribution.
I was to be based in the town of Zambezi (located, go figure, on the Zambezi River). To get there, one first travels north of Lusaka, through the Copperbelt and then west into Northwestern Province. After about 600 kms you hit Solwezi, the first (and only) major town in the province. Solwezi was once a small frontier town but has recently grown rapidly, particularly due to the development of two large mines nearby. In the brief time that I spent there I thought it was a bit out of sorts with itself - a small town having to take on big town responsibility. It was as if a skinny person gained a lot of weight and their clothes didn't really fit any more. Not exactly a ringing endorsement of the town but, then again, I can't think of much positive to say about it.
Perhaps my view of the town was clouded because, after leaving Lusaka at 4:45 and arriving there at 17:00ish (with several stops in Lusaka and Kitwe along the way), I was wanting to get back on the road. Alas, we had to spend many hours waiting for some people to catch up with us so they could ride on the back of the truck for the rest of the way. As night approached I wasn't particularly enamoured with the notion that the driver had been awake since 3:30 and there were still at least 10 more hours of driving to go.
A random highlight from 26 hours on the road: we were somewhere on the 230km stretch between Kitwe and Solwezi when, out of nowhere, a guy walked out of a village wearing an Oilers jersey.
All went well, however, and after driving through the night we arrived at our destination at about 6:00 the next morning, about 26 hours after departing Lusaka. I wanted to get down to business right away, knowing that my time there would be brief.
That afternoon the first blanket distribution was done - to the Zambezi District Hospital. It is the major hospital for the district and is falling apart. The mattresses are crumbling, beds are breaking, and if it weren't for some current renovation work, the building would be too. The hospital had no bedding to speak of so the blankets were eagerly welcomed and staff and administration were overjoyed. They had no money to get any bedding on their own and, with cold season setting in, were getting desperate in the search for a solution.
The crops in the Zambezi area were also completely wiped out this year. The crops, consisting of maize, cassava, and rice, were either flooded by the river (to the west) or received far too much rain (to the east). The soil there is incredibly sandy and so any attempts to fertilize were leached away into the soil. The result is that food prices are double what they are in the rest of the country, especially damaging when no one has a crop of their own to fall back on. No organizations have planned food relief for this year and the government, which proclaimed that it had taken care of the people of Zambezi, provided a sum total of 2.5kgs of mealie meal per family. That won't last a week, let alone till next harvest.
Zambezi had some interesting characters that I saw in only one day. There was the pastor who tried to raise a woman from the dead with an allnight prayer vigil. Then there was a "mad" person (the word for anyone with a mental illness) who lives in the grave yard and, rumor has it, eats stillborn babies. Probably such characters exist here too but I just don't here about them.
Unfortunately my Zambezi trip came to an end sooner than I had anticipated. On the first afternoon of my visit there I got a phone call informing me that a good friend in Lusaka had passed away. By the next day (which was the first available bus) I was back on the road to Lusaka. The bus was nice enough, although they liked to cram as many passengers on as possible and as a result the aisles were often filled to capacity for short stretches. It seemed to stop at every three-hut village along the way, which got a little tedious after awhile. The net result was that the bus quickly acquired a lovely stink of body odour. In the end, however, the bus connections all worked out very well and the distance was covered in a mere 20 hours.
I was to be based in the town of Zambezi (located, go figure, on the Zambezi River). To get there, one first travels north of Lusaka, through the Copperbelt and then west into Northwestern Province. After about 600 kms you hit Solwezi, the first (and only) major town in the province. Solwezi was once a small frontier town but has recently grown rapidly, particularly due to the development of two large mines nearby. In the brief time that I spent there I thought it was a bit out of sorts with itself - a small town having to take on big town responsibility. It was as if a skinny person gained a lot of weight and their clothes didn't really fit any more. Not exactly a ringing endorsement of the town but, then again, I can't think of much positive to say about it.
Perhaps my view of the town was clouded because, after leaving Lusaka at 4:45 and arriving there at 17:00ish (with several stops in Lusaka and Kitwe along the way), I was wanting to get back on the road. Alas, we had to spend many hours waiting for some people to catch up with us so they could ride on the back of the truck for the rest of the way. As night approached I wasn't particularly enamoured with the notion that the driver had been awake since 3:30 and there were still at least 10 more hours of driving to go.
A random highlight from 26 hours on the road: we were somewhere on the 230km stretch between Kitwe and Solwezi when, out of nowhere, a guy walked out of a village wearing an Oilers jersey.
All went well, however, and after driving through the night we arrived at our destination at about 6:00 the next morning, about 26 hours after departing Lusaka. I wanted to get down to business right away, knowing that my time there would be brief.
That afternoon the first blanket distribution was done - to the Zambezi District Hospital. It is the major hospital for the district and is falling apart. The mattresses are crumbling, beds are breaking, and if it weren't for some current renovation work, the building would be too. The hospital had no bedding to speak of so the blankets were eagerly welcomed and staff and administration were overjoyed. They had no money to get any bedding on their own and, with cold season setting in, were getting desperate in the search for a solution.
The crops in the Zambezi area were also completely wiped out this year. The crops, consisting of maize, cassava, and rice, were either flooded by the river (to the west) or received far too much rain (to the east). The soil there is incredibly sandy and so any attempts to fertilize were leached away into the soil. The result is that food prices are double what they are in the rest of the country, especially damaging when no one has a crop of their own to fall back on. No organizations have planned food relief for this year and the government, which proclaimed that it had taken care of the people of Zambezi, provided a sum total of 2.5kgs of mealie meal per family. That won't last a week, let alone till next harvest.
Zambezi had some interesting characters that I saw in only one day. There was the pastor who tried to raise a woman from the dead with an allnight prayer vigil. Then there was a "mad" person (the word for anyone with a mental illness) who lives in the grave yard and, rumor has it, eats stillborn babies. Probably such characters exist here too but I just don't here about them.
Unfortunately my Zambezi trip came to an end sooner than I had anticipated. On the first afternoon of my visit there I got a phone call informing me that a good friend in Lusaka had passed away. By the next day (which was the first available bus) I was back on the road to Lusaka. The bus was nice enough, although they liked to cram as many passengers on as possible and as a result the aisles were often filled to capacity for short stretches. It seemed to stop at every three-hut village along the way, which got a little tedious after awhile. The net result was that the bus quickly acquired a lovely stink of body odour. In the end, however, the bus connections all worked out very well and the distance was covered in a mere 20 hours.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Labour Day and a Wedding
Tuesday was a holiday here (Labour Day). For each holiday there is a march past the president and then numerous speeches in front of the Freedom Statue, a significant (although disappointingly small) national landmark. I hadn't been to the national festivities for a holiday yet so I went with my host father to these ones. Not much to report there - we were late and missed the march past and the speeches were interesting enough but there is no point in repeating what was said.
My host dad had asked that morning if I could go to a wedding with them that evening, but to my surprise we also went to the ceremony straight from the Labour Day festivities. I had had no idea that I could end up in a wedding so I was wearing a T-shirt and some pretty casual trousers. When they watch their wedding video they will wonder who the scruffy looking white guy is in the back (especially since I didn't know either the bride or the groom).
The wedding and reception were in many ways a carbon copy of North American wedding events. The steps were all recognizable and the same, although maybe done in a different order than weddings I have attended. The reception included plenty of dancing and loud music and an MC who was apparently very funny in a local language I didn't understand. Most impressive was the highly choreographed dance routines by the wedding party. They had both a nicely arranged entrance (which must have lasted about ten minutes) and then another couple routines later on.
One thing I noticed is that the success of weddings seems to be measured by how many dignitaries you can attract. The presence of the local MP was mentioned on numerous occasions and on the ride back home my host parents were talking about weddings they had attended and making remarks like: "oh, that was a very good wedding. They had cabinet ministers and justices there." The guest-of-honour, who made a speech of advice to the couple (informing them to not use their cell phones as tools of infidelity), was also a former government official.
My host dad had asked that morning if I could go to a wedding with them that evening, but to my surprise we also went to the ceremony straight from the Labour Day festivities. I had had no idea that I could end up in a wedding so I was wearing a T-shirt and some pretty casual trousers. When they watch their wedding video they will wonder who the scruffy looking white guy is in the back (especially since I didn't know either the bride or the groom).
The wedding and reception were in many ways a carbon copy of North American wedding events. The steps were all recognizable and the same, although maybe done in a different order than weddings I have attended. The reception included plenty of dancing and loud music and an MC who was apparently very funny in a local language I didn't understand. Most impressive was the highly choreographed dance routines by the wedding party. They had both a nicely arranged entrance (which must have lasted about ten minutes) and then another couple routines later on.
One thing I noticed is that the success of weddings seems to be measured by how many dignitaries you can attract. The presence of the local MP was mentioned on numerous occasions and on the ride back home my host parents were talking about weddings they had attended and making remarks like: "oh, that was a very good wedding. They had cabinet ministers and justices there." The guest-of-honour, who made a speech of advice to the couple (informing them to not use their cell phones as tools of infidelity), was also a former government official.
Zanzibar Vacation
How does one encapsulate a week in paradise in a few paragraphs? I’m going to have to try, however, given the incredible holiday experience I just had.
Last week we headed off on the 44-hour train ride from Kapiri Mposhi (a town a couple of hours north of Lusaka) to Dar-Es-Salaam, where we were to meet another friend and proceed to Zanzibar. The trip got off to a slow start when I was stuck between two incredibly fat ladies for the bus ride from Lusaka to Kapiri. The day got better though, as we boarded our train, settled into the “luxuries” of our first-class cabin and prepared for a couple of days of train life. Since there were four of us we had a compartment to ourselves and this was where we spent basically our entire trip. Someone always had to remain there to protect our stuff from the numerous suspicious characters that occasionally roamed the hallways. Otherwise, it was comfortable, spacious, sleeping was easy, and we enjoyed hours of games (dice and Yahtzee being particular favourites), reading, talking, and watching scenery from our window.
All was going well until the afternoon of the second day, about 24 hours into the trip, when we stopped in Mbeya, a city in southern Tanzania, for an extraordinarily long stop. After much frustration we finally departed only to wake up that night to find the train stopped. Clearly it had been stopped for some time and it didn’t appear like it was going anywhere anytime soon. As it turned out, 16 hours was spent in the middle of no where. The cause: a derailment further ahead down the tracks that took some extensive cleaning up and track repair. Since we had acquired very few Tanzanian shillings at the border, were beginning to run out of water, and needed to contact our friend somehow, things were getting a little tight. Fortunately, we were able to convince the people on the train to accept Zambian kwacha even though we were in Tanzania and our problems were solved. Finally, we were back on our way and pulled into Dar at about 5 am on Sunday morning – 60 hours after our departure from Kapiri.
We met up with our friend and headed off to the port to catch an early ferry across the ocean to Zanzibar. Upon arrival we quickly waded through the obligatory port touts, got our Zanzibari stamp in our passports, were swamped by the intense heat and humidity, and found ourselves in a culturally and historically vibrant community that is the result of hundreds of years of international trade and interaction between Africans, Arabs, Indians, and Europeans.
The old quarter of Zanzibar Town is known as Stone Town. Normal navigation can be thrown out the window – narrow alleyways cut between the tall stone buildings. Large elaborately decorated doors frequently appear on the houses, although one has to be careful of the numerous bikes and scooters that zip up and down the “roads” while admiring these historical structures.
Our first day was spent looking around Stone Town, getting our bearings, and dealing with important logistical issues. Probably the most interesting attraction on this day was the House of Wonders, the former palace of the sultan which has now been converted into Zanzibar’s national museum. It forms an impressive landmark on Stone Town’s water front. It also is known as the site of the shortest war in history – when the British navy bombarded it the sultan surrendered within 40 minutes. I guess one could call it the original “shock and awe” campaign. Another highlight included the former slave market (Zanzibar used to be the centre of the slave trade coming out of eastern Africa until the British forced the Arabs to shut it down). An Anglican church was built on the site of the original market, although some musty basement rooms where slaves were kept in large numbers in horrid conditions have been kept for posterity.
Throughout the trip we were constantly blessed with Zanzibar’s amazing assortment of fresh fish and fruit. Surely this was the healthiest I’ve ate all year! We also ate on the ocean front all but one night. Dining room tables won’t quite be the same again. I had numerous species of fish for the first time during this trip: shark, barracuda, swordfish, a tuna steak, snapper, king fish, and I sampled some oyster, squid, and some other miscellaneous sea creatures.
Our second day on Zanzibar was spent on a spice tour. This was the only day where the rain seriously impacted our program as it rained throughout the tour and I ended up absolutely soaked. We were shown a huge number of bushes, shrubs, grasses, and trees that produce an endless array of spices. Zanzibar used to be a major exporter of spices; now most produce is only for local use although cloves remain an important export. The tour also included a visit to a nearby beach where, for the first time, I set foot in the Indian Ocean. The crystal clear warm waters and endless line of palm trees along the beach made for quite the idyllic setting. We visited another slave attraction – a cave where Arab traders hid slaves after the British had banned the slave trade. This deep natural cave along the beach was used to accumulate slaves before loading them onto boats at night time.
During our safari experience earlier in the year I had managed to get fairly close to some impressive land animals. Nothing was quite like swimming with dolphins, however. We were taken out in a boat in the ocean to find dolphins. When a pod had been found we donned snorkelling gear and jumped in to swim with them. Once they got too far away we would get back in the boat, find them again, and jump again. Often they had dived down pretty far so you could see them from above. That was cool enough, but on our last swim I turned around to find a group of dolphins no more than a few metres away from me. Pretty cool!
After a few days in Stone Town we headed off to the north of the island to enjoy the beach. In addition to enjoying the sandy beaches and crystalline waters, the guys went out fishing with some locals during the first day in Nungwi. We had boasted to ourselves that we would be hauling in huge fish, but it became quickly apparent that we were not fishing for such beasts of the sea. The tiny hooks were meant to catch little fish, which we did reasonably well, although certainly not in comparison with our local guides. That evening we got a local restaurant to cook up our fish, which they did and then served with cooking bananas and cow stomach. The next day many of us were feeling some stomach problems of our own – guess the fish got the last laugh!
On our second day in Nungwi we took a boat to a nearby island for some snorkelling. I thought it was pretty great, since I had never really been snorkelling before, although others with more experience had seen better elsewhere. In the evening we were determined to avoid the unpleasant gastrointestinal results of the night before so we looked for the most western restaurant we could find. Alas, even this approach failed, and one person on the trip ended up with some food poisoning.
During our last full day in Zanzibar we headed back to Stone Town. The guys headed out to Prison Island, an island off the coast of Stone Town, to see a giant tortoise sanctuary and do a little more snorkelling. A little souvenir shopping in the evening and the next morning rounded off the trip.
There was one last adventure in store. We had flown from Zanzibar to Dar, where we were catching a flight to Lusaka. On our way to clear the final security checkpoint to gain access to the boarding area we heard over the intercom: “Passenger E, P, P initial S this is your final boarding call for Zambian Airways flight to Lusaka.” This was then repeated for the other three members of the group. Never had I had my name announced over an airport intercom. The lucky thing was that we had just left a restaurant where we couldn’t hear any of the announcements. A few minutes later and we would have missed the flight. Its not even that we were late – the plane just happened to be leaving half an hour early.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
The Smoke That Thunders
The African name for Victoria Falls is Mosi-oa-Tunya which, in English, translates into "the smoke that thunders." It seems like a much more applicable name for such an impressive monument to nature than the name of a fat English queen who never set foot anywhere near the Falls.
I have been to Vic Falls (the one advantage of this name is that it is slightly shorter) three times now. The first time was in October. I probably wrote an article about it at that time but I can summarize it by saying that I was taken by its breathtaking height. There was almost no water in it then as it was the height of the dry season so we were able to walk right across the top of what is now surging river water. Then we returned in December. By this point there was a little more flow and you could feel the mist on your face from the other side of the canyon. I guess you could call this "medium flow."
On this trip, however, the Falls were at their most spectacular state, the peak of water flow. The river is over a kilometer wide at this point and the entire mass of it plummets down immense cliffs. The resulting mist and spray not only soaked us as we stood across the gorge from the Falls but also could be seen from Livingstone, several kilometers away. It felt like one was standing in a cloud with the mist shrouding much of what you could see in most directions.
I think probably every foreigner who has ever set foot in Zambia has made their way to Victoria Falls. Far fewer Zambians have seen their natural wonder, although there seemed to be a fair number of them when we were there. If you ask around in Lusaka, though, you won't find many people who have been there and I'm sure the same could be said for the rest of the country. Foreigners, including myself, have a passionate desire to get there because it is the one internationally recognize tourist attraction in the country. Locals, aren't quite so keen. I asked a friend if he would like to see the Falls some day. He said maybe he would but that he had already seen them on TV many times so wasn't all that interested. Don't know if this is indicative of wider opinions, or if it is just that most Zambians don't have the money to travel to see them (this is probably the major reason) but they certainly seem to be less of a deal for Zambians than they are for me.
Nonetheless, the Falls leave no doubt that they are one of the seven natural wonders of the world and it has been great to see them at these three stages of water flow.
I have been to Vic Falls (the one advantage of this name is that it is slightly shorter) three times now. The first time was in October. I probably wrote an article about it at that time but I can summarize it by saying that I was taken by its breathtaking height. There was almost no water in it then as it was the height of the dry season so we were able to walk right across the top of what is now surging river water. Then we returned in December. By this point there was a little more flow and you could feel the mist on your face from the other side of the canyon. I guess you could call this "medium flow."
On this trip, however, the Falls were at their most spectacular state, the peak of water flow. The river is over a kilometer wide at this point and the entire mass of it plummets down immense cliffs. The resulting mist and spray not only soaked us as we stood across the gorge from the Falls but also could be seen from Livingstone, several kilometers away. It felt like one was standing in a cloud with the mist shrouding much of what you could see in most directions.
I think probably every foreigner who has ever set foot in Zambia has made their way to Victoria Falls. Far fewer Zambians have seen their natural wonder, although there seemed to be a fair number of them when we were there. If you ask around in Lusaka, though, you won't find many people who have been there and I'm sure the same could be said for the rest of the country. Foreigners, including myself, have a passionate desire to get there because it is the one internationally recognize tourist attraction in the country. Locals, aren't quite so keen. I asked a friend if he would like to see the Falls some day. He said maybe he would but that he had already seen them on TV many times so wasn't all that interested. Don't know if this is indicative of wider opinions, or if it is just that most Zambians don't have the money to travel to see them (this is probably the major reason) but they certainly seem to be less of a deal for Zambians than they are for me.
Nonetheless, the Falls leave no doubt that they are one of the seven natural wonders of the world and it has been great to see them at these three stages of water flow.
Groly To the Lord
Spelling mistake? Well, that's what I would call it. This sign on a minibus I saw this morning is no mere spelling mistake, however. Not only did Glory become Groly but it is also indicative of the wider trend among Zambians that Rs and Ls are often confused in written and spoken English. This is something that I may have mentioned before, but the sign made me think of it again.
The R/L confusion extends to many words: right/light, river/liver, full/four, lay/ray, lake/rake, play/pray. For example, someone might say, "my lake is broken" when they mean "my rake is broken." Or people will talk about the "Zambezi Liver." In my Grade 8 class last term I tried to hit back. We carefully went through how to pronounce the letters and then moved on to some words getting the class, then small groups, and then individuals to try pronouncing the words. The effort was futile so after a few efforts I gave up. I then gave a short reading test where they had to read out sentences like "I turn on the light" but I discovered that much of the class wasn't able to do any reading, let alone differentiate between two letters.
I think that this confusing letter-switch might be a result of local languages. The word "to come" in Nyanja is "bwera" which is pronounced "bwela." I hear that in Tonga there is no "R" but that some Ls are pronounced as Rs. Given these pieces of evidence I think I can conclude fairly safely that this is the root of the confusing situation.
For someone not used to switching Rs and Ls at random (or should that be landom?) this can be confusing. When someone tells you that the play at church it takes a little while to realize that they meant that they pray at church. I'm getting a little quicker at it though now. Who knows, maybe I'll even start doing it too someday.
The R/L confusion extends to many words: right/light, river/liver, full/four, lay/ray, lake/rake, play/pray. For example, someone might say, "my lake is broken" when they mean "my rake is broken." Or people will talk about the "Zambezi Liver." In my Grade 8 class last term I tried to hit back. We carefully went through how to pronounce the letters and then moved on to some words getting the class, then small groups, and then individuals to try pronouncing the words. The effort was futile so after a few efforts I gave up. I then gave a short reading test where they had to read out sentences like "I turn on the light" but I discovered that much of the class wasn't able to do any reading, let alone differentiate between two letters.
I think that this confusing letter-switch might be a result of local languages. The word "to come" in Nyanja is "bwera" which is pronounced "bwela." I hear that in Tonga there is no "R" but that some Ls are pronounced as Rs. Given these pieces of evidence I think I can conclude fairly safely that this is the root of the confusing situation.
For someone not used to switching Rs and Ls at random (or should that be landom?) this can be confusing. When someone tells you that the play at church it takes a little while to realize that they meant that they pray at church. I'm getting a little quicker at it though now. Who knows, maybe I'll even start doing it too someday.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
The Meals I Dread
It has been a while since I've done a list, so here goes another one. The five worst relishes (side dishes) with nshima. I should point out, however, that most nshima relishes are really good but some I would rather do without.
1. Kapenta - the thought of these little dried or fresh fish makes me gag. The worse part is that when you eat them it stinks up the whole house and the taste remains in your mouth for the rest of the day.
2. Caterpillars - chewy and not particularly tasty.
3. Dried fish - some dried fish is OK (mostly due to the salt content), but I had one kind of dried fish whose skin was sort of slimy. That was not my favourite, one can be sure.
4. Impwa - these can be OK but often they are served cold and have a funny taste to them. They are a vegetable but I can't really figure out how to explain them beyond that. You eat them whole and I think that they are boiled before eating.
5. Chihuahua - of all the greens, this is my least favourite. I far prefer rape or cabbage (which is , by far, my personal favourite).
There you have a list of my least favourite relishes. I would give a list of my favourites but it would be not particularly interesting: beef, sausage, chicken, buka fish, cabbage, and mince meat (ground beef).
1. Kapenta - the thought of these little dried or fresh fish makes me gag. The worse part is that when you eat them it stinks up the whole house and the taste remains in your mouth for the rest of the day.
2. Caterpillars - chewy and not particularly tasty.
3. Dried fish - some dried fish is OK (mostly due to the salt content), but I had one kind of dried fish whose skin was sort of slimy. That was not my favourite, one can be sure.
4. Impwa - these can be OK but often they are served cold and have a funny taste to them. They are a vegetable but I can't really figure out how to explain them beyond that. You eat them whole and I think that they are boiled before eating.
5. Chihuahua - of all the greens, this is my least favourite. I far prefer rape or cabbage (which is , by far, my personal favourite).
There you have a list of my least favourite relishes. I would give a list of my favourites but it would be not particularly interesting: beef, sausage, chicken, buka fish, cabbage, and mince meat (ground beef).
Monday, April 02, 2007
Global Family Report - Chimwemwe
Every six months, MCC produces reports for people who sponsor a Global Family program at several schools in Zambia. Two of the schools that receive support from Global Family are the schools where I work. Here is a sneak peak of one of these reports:
National News:
Zambia has remained stable since the September 2006 elections, although an ongoing war of words continues between the main opposition leader, Michael Sata, and the president, Levy Mwanawasa. Currently the major political issue in the country is developing a new constitution to, among other things, reduce the power of the president. Opposition parties and numerous NGOs and church groups have campaigned hard for many years on this front, and some continue to complain that the government is dragging its feet. The government, for its part, maintains that a process is in place. It is widely assumed that the issue will be settled near the end of Mwanawasa’s presidency.
Zambia has made international news recently for its defeat in court by a “vulture fund.” In the late 1970s Zambia bought tractors from Romania with the funds to be paid over time. In the 1990s, Zambia was close to reaching an agreement with the Romanian government to buy out the loan for a fraction of its cost, when it was bought up by this fund, who then demanded the full value of the loan (around $40 million). As a country that recently was able to increase health and education spending dramatically due to debt relief, it would be a major blow to Zambia’s social services if it was forced to pay out a large sum to this creditor.
School News:
Another term is now complete at Chimwemwe School, and as usual, this term has brought its own unique set of challenges, setbacks, and opportunities. Last term was made difficult because several teachers left the school for positions in government schools. We continued to lose teachers this term, this time due to illness and childbirth. Losing any teachers from a barebones staff has consequences, but, this term, three were lost for extended periods. At times, there were more classes than there were teachers, so staff would juggle multiple classes at the same time. The result has been that extra duties have been shared among all staff members, whether that meant teaching additional classes or assisting with the administration.
Shortly after the previous newsletter, Grade 7 and 9 students from throughout the country wrote national examinations to determine who would pass on to Grade 8 and 10. Those who do well are given places in government schools in the next grade. Chimwemwe School had good results from the exams, which is a positive sign about the quality of education being provided. These exams also have an impact on the Grade 8 intake at the school. The students that come to the school either failed the exam in Grade 7 or are unable to go to a government school. As a result the ability of students in the Grade 8 class ranges widely from those who can read and write very well to those who remain illiterate, which makes accommodating the educational levels of the Grade 8 students difficult.
In late November Chimwemwe received internet access from a local internet service provider. The staff are now quite proficient at it, while the older students have all received lessons and can now be seen filling the computer room to play a variety of educational games or read the news. The facility also serves as an internet café, a facility which has been successful in raising much-needed resources for the school. You can check out Chimwemwe’s new website at www.chimwemwe.ac.zm. Computer lessons also started at the primary level this term. Since we currently only have four computers, it was a bit of a challenge to accommodate classes ranging in size from 35 to 70, so much of the work was done in the regular classroom. Nevertheless, the computer lessons were very popular for the younger kids, and parents were very happy to see that their children were learning some skills with the new machines.
Chimwemwe students also participated in inter-school sports this term. Pupils participated in the disciplines of football (soccer), netball (for girls), and occasionally in girls football. The players were eager and practiced hard but, alas, no wins came the school’s way. More importantly, however, everyone enjoyed themselves and students improved their skills as the term went on. Next term the whole school will be involved in inter-class games and athletics.
Samson Kayonde, GF Recipient:
I had the opportunity to visit the house of Samson Kayonde, a student who successfully completed Grade Nine with the help of the Global Family program. Samson is nineteen years old and has been a double orphan since 2000. His mother died in 1989, his father in 2000, and his lone sister in 1990. He currently lives with his grandmother, Betty, and six others; five of these are double orphans. No one in the household has a regular job. In order to support the family the grandmother raises a little money by making and selling table clothes, although she often only sells one or two of these in a month. Samson and the others try to help out by finding piecework in the community. When I asked how they can afford to eat, let alone worry about other necessities, the response was “we just survive.”
Samson has been attending Chimwemwe since Grade Five. He likes science and says that some day he would like to become an accountant. Like most Zambians his age he enjoys playing football and going to church. Samson is a quiet, thoughtful, and polite young man who under his quiet demeanour shows an undeniable determination to succeed.
The house was dark inside because the family cannot afford electricity and there are very few windows. Betty’s husband was building the house, but died before it could be completed. There is enough space to live in but one can still see the remains of unfinished walls around the front of the house. At the back of the plot there was a small garden where the family is able to grow a few vegetables and onions for their own consumption. Samson said that he enjoyed working back there and I can see why. It was quiet, shady, and a cool breeze lifted the day’s heat.
On our return trip to school I asked Samson again how they afforded food if there was no income. He thought for a second, as if deciding whether or not to share a secret. “Sometimes,” he said, “we don’t eat for three days.” Samson explained how he always came to school anyways, just so that no students could guess that he had not eaten.
Samson is a tremendously eager and ambitious youth. On one of my first days at Chimwemwe School he came to me asking if I could teach him French lessons. My busy schedule did not really allow for many lessons, but we did have a session or two. It is a tremendous compliment to Global Family that such a youth, coming from circumstances more difficult than most North Americans (myself included) can comprehend, has been given the gift of an education and hope for the future.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Zam-Zim Relations In an Era of Turmoil
I have received some questions about the mood in Zambia regarding its beligerent neighbour to the south, Zimbabwe, so I thought I would share a little bit about the general sentiments on this side of the Zambezi. Generally, the people that I talk to are strongly anti-Mugabe and argue that he has gone too far and it is time for him to go. There is very little talk of the West being a major contributor to Zimbabwe's problems, although the issue of land reform occasionally does come up.
Politicians of all sorts have also waded in on the controversy. Kenneth Kaunda, the first president of Zambia (who some would say was dictatorial himself during some of his reign), has taken what could be called a centrist position. He has called for conciliatory efforts to be taken to bridge the gap between ZANU-PF and the MDC. In his recent statement on the issue he also criticized the British for failing in its Lancaster House constitution promises regarding land reform, but didn't seem to cast the entire blame of Zimbabwe's problems at the feet of the British.
The second president, Frederick Chiluba (who has the distinction of being the only president that my host father can't seem to say anything nice about), has come out in support of Mugabe. He blamed the west and its media for sensationalizing the issue and even "cursed the day that Tsvangerai was born."
The current president, Levy Mwanawasa, and his administration have been cautiously critical of their southern neighbour. They did criticize human rights abuses publicly, which is a laudatory step. There was a rumour that a recent visit by a Zimbabwean Minister of State was to complain officially about these comments but it is unclear whether this was the case or not.
Zambia is used to facing tumultous neighbours. Being situated in between such beacons of peace as DR Congo, Mozambique, Angola, and Zimbabwe is what has made Zambia's identity as a peaceful nation (see a previous post) central to its identity. It will be interesting to see how Zambia's political leadership, and its regular people, deal with the challenge of relating to a close ally that seems to have lost all sense of proper governance.
Politicians of all sorts have also waded in on the controversy. Kenneth Kaunda, the first president of Zambia (who some would say was dictatorial himself during some of his reign), has taken what could be called a centrist position. He has called for conciliatory efforts to be taken to bridge the gap between ZANU-PF and the MDC. In his recent statement on the issue he also criticized the British for failing in its Lancaster House constitution promises regarding land reform, but didn't seem to cast the entire blame of Zimbabwe's problems at the feet of the British.
The second president, Frederick Chiluba (who has the distinction of being the only president that my host father can't seem to say anything nice about), has come out in support of Mugabe. He blamed the west and its media for sensationalizing the issue and even "cursed the day that Tsvangerai was born."
The current president, Levy Mwanawasa, and his administration have been cautiously critical of their southern neighbour. They did criticize human rights abuses publicly, which is a laudatory step. There was a rumour that a recent visit by a Zimbabwean Minister of State was to complain officially about these comments but it is unclear whether this was the case or not.
Zambia is used to facing tumultous neighbours. Being situated in between such beacons of peace as DR Congo, Mozambique, Angola, and Zimbabwe is what has made Zambia's identity as a peaceful nation (see a previous post) central to its identity. It will be interesting to see how Zambia's political leadership, and its regular people, deal with the challenge of relating to a close ally that seems to have lost all sense of proper governance.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
"The Raid:" A Week Later
Just wanting to put a bookend to the story of last week's police raid. The room is now reopened. I have been told that they still have some things to work out with the council but everything is under control and I'm sure an amicable solution will be reached. At any rate, lessons and computer use are continuing as normal now.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Stefan Epp, Sports Master
Throughout the term I have been involved in the sports program at Chimwemwe School, mostly through coaching the netball team. The Senior Teacher and Sports Master (the title given to the person responsible for the sports program) always referred to me as the Sports Master but, in reality, he did most of the job. This involved organizing matches, booking facilities, and generally being the person responsible for the overall program. This arrangement worked well. I helped out where I could but, not being particularly familiar with the duties of a Sports Master and only being at the school three days a week, I could not function full time in the position.
Fate, however, had other ideas for my role in the sports program. The teacher responsible had ended up in hospital with quite a serious stomach problem. Since no one else was involved in the sports program it was up to me to either let it die or keep it going, so I took upon myself the mantle of Sports Master. My initial foray into the world of sports masters went fine. With the help of the director I contacted a school and set up a match for Saturday morning. Then I wrote to the appropriate authorities to book the ground. Things were going good. I was two for two. When I arrived on Saturday morning I was surprised to find that our students had even shown up on time. A remarkable occurrence!
Alas, it was not to be. The other team didn't show up. A bitter end to a promising beginning. I will see next week if I attempt it again. I might be limited by our sports infrastructure - the football is now completely dead and there is no money for a replacement or to pay the grounds fees for that matter (so if I do organize a game, I foot the bill). At the same time, I am really keen to get our kids at least one more game. After all, the girls netball team has practised all term three times a week to play two games and one football match. The boys football team has only played three times as well. I think that I probably care more about this than the kids do. After all, as long as they are having fun at practise, that's the important part. Maybe I will use my mighty sports master powers to focus on intramural sports instead - that way more kids can play at less cost to myself and the school. Sounds like a win-win situation.
Fate, however, had other ideas for my role in the sports program. The teacher responsible had ended up in hospital with quite a serious stomach problem. Since no one else was involved in the sports program it was up to me to either let it die or keep it going, so I took upon myself the mantle of Sports Master. My initial foray into the world of sports masters went fine. With the help of the director I contacted a school and set up a match for Saturday morning. Then I wrote to the appropriate authorities to book the ground. Things were going good. I was two for two. When I arrived on Saturday morning I was surprised to find that our students had even shown up on time. A remarkable occurrence!
Alas, it was not to be. The other team didn't show up. A bitter end to a promising beginning. I will see next week if I attempt it again. I might be limited by our sports infrastructure - the football is now completely dead and there is no money for a replacement or to pay the grounds fees for that matter (so if I do organize a game, I foot the bill). At the same time, I am really keen to get our kids at least one more game. After all, the girls netball team has practised all term three times a week to play two games and one football match. The boys football team has only played three times as well. I think that I probably care more about this than the kids do. After all, as long as they are having fun at practise, that's the important part. Maybe I will use my mighty sports master powers to focus on intramural sports instead - that way more kids can play at less cost to myself and the school. Sounds like a win-win situation.
That's the Pits!
A funny story from the life of my host dad. At least it was funny for me, although I cannot say that it was funny for him.
He was at church at a Bible study and was reading Scripture when his cell phone rang. He kept reading and gave the phone to one of the church members to turn off. Instead of doing so, the person took the phone and went to make a call of his own. In the process of making the call somehow the phone was accidentally dropped down the church's pit latrine. I can imagine sitting on the toilet when, from below, the phone starts to ring. Of course the damage to the electronics would be such that this would be an impossibility. Anyways, I found this story mildly amusing. It was seriously the pits for my host dad.
He was at church at a Bible study and was reading Scripture when his cell phone rang. He kept reading and gave the phone to one of the church members to turn off. Instead of doing so, the person took the phone and went to make a call of his own. In the process of making the call somehow the phone was accidentally dropped down the church's pit latrine. I can imagine sitting on the toilet when, from below, the phone starts to ring. Of course the damage to the electronics would be such that this would be an impossibility. Anyways, I found this story mildly amusing. It was seriously the pits for my host dad.
Friday, March 23, 2007
The Raid
I was teaching my Grade 8 computer class yesterday when I noticed the director at the door talking with some police men. I was curious to know what was going on but kept on teaching until the director came up to me and said, "Ah, Mr. Epp. We have a problem." He went on to explain that the police were shutting down the room. Shutting down the room?! I did not understand what could possibly be wrong with the room - it is probably the best kept room in the compound. It turns out that the room that the school was using for its preschool class was not plastered and had no door, so the police were there to shut down the preschool. Since that room had no door, however, they figured they had to find another room to lock down. Discussions had ensued with the director. Originally they were going to shut down a large hall that is used as a classroom and a church. The director was not going to allow his church to be locked up so the only other real option was to lock down the computer room. This left the staff a bit despondent in the afternoon, although some were relieved that the whole school was not shut down.
The room is currently being held as ransom for the school to pay the astronomical fee of K2 million ($500 US). I can't imagine that the school could ever afford to pay such a sum, but they figure that if they can pay K150,000 they might be able to get the room reopened. The school has also decided that it probably won't be able to continue offering preschool. Thanks, city council, for taking kids out of school.
Apparently nursery/preschool inspections have been taking place throughout the city, and the school had expected that their turn was soon to come. If you take a quick look at the compound of Ng'ombe, however, I'm sure that 95% of the nursery schools don't match up with the official standard yet I can't imagine that inspectors are going to shut down every nursery school in the city. It is this seemingly random use of the law that made my MCC Country Reps suspect that this was a case of jealousy - someone saw the school getting ahead and wanted to drag them down to earth. Such an act would not be unknown, but it is an unfortunate indictment of the society that such a cause is even suspected.
It also says something about the city council. Lately the council has been involved in three activities. The first is demolishing "illegal structures" - the houses and businesses of poor people who either can't afford land or for whom there is not enough room in the markets. The second is shutting down nursery schools. The third is bickering endlessly among themselves about firing the mayor for attending the welcoming ceremony for the Chinese president when he was here.
The room is currently being held as ransom for the school to pay the astronomical fee of K2 million ($500 US). I can't imagine that the school could ever afford to pay such a sum, but they figure that if they can pay K150,000 they might be able to get the room reopened. The school has also decided that it probably won't be able to continue offering preschool. Thanks, city council, for taking kids out of school.
Apparently nursery/preschool inspections have been taking place throughout the city, and the school had expected that their turn was soon to come. If you take a quick look at the compound of Ng'ombe, however, I'm sure that 95% of the nursery schools don't match up with the official standard yet I can't imagine that inspectors are going to shut down every nursery school in the city. It is this seemingly random use of the law that made my MCC Country Reps suspect that this was a case of jealousy - someone saw the school getting ahead and wanted to drag them down to earth. Such an act would not be unknown, but it is an unfortunate indictment of the society that such a cause is even suspected.
It also says something about the city council. Lately the council has been involved in three activities. The first is demolishing "illegal structures" - the houses and businesses of poor people who either can't afford land or for whom there is not enough room in the markets. The second is shutting down nursery schools. The third is bickering endlessly among themselves about firing the mayor for attending the welcoming ceremony for the Chinese president when he was here.
Thank You, Ministry, for the Lunch
Last weekend I had the opportunity to attend parts of a three day conference hosted by the Ministry of Education entitled "The First National Conference on eLearning and National Development." The Ministry shipped in its officials, teachers, and students from around the country and there were also reps from industry, NGOs, teaching colleges, and universities. For the most part, from my perspective (and from those in the eLearning industry that I talk with - don't laugh, there are a few), the conference was not particularly useful. There was very little practical thought and a lot of theory that has no bearing to the reality of the Zambian situation.
There were some positives that came out of the conference though. One was the sweet faux leather carrying case with the conference logo. There was also the large number of free bottles of water. The conference itself was held in the prestigious Mulungushi International Conference Center and the room that we used looked very much like the UN Security Council room, right down to the interpreters windows along the side, the horseshoe in the middle, and the table microphones. I presume that the room must be used for whatever international conferences are held in Zambia.
Another bonus was the lunch. Each lunch involved: rice, nshima, potatoes, beef, chicken, pork, two salads, vegetables, fruit, cake, and soft drinks. I can't imagine how much they must have paid for this lavish cuisine; it crossed my mind that for the fraction of the cost of one of the meals Aisha School where I work could have been entirely renovated.
Speaking of Aisha School, the Ministry decided (without consulting us) that a tour of the school's computer facility would be part of the conference. This meant busily preparing the facility and filling it with additional computers for the day to make it look full. The tour went quite well and everyone was very impressed. Some of them were doubly impressed when they discovered that the Ministry has done nothing for the school and hasn't provided so much as a cent in the last six years.
That's the thing about community schools - without them the education system would be a complete failure in the city but the government neither has the inclination or the resources to help them. Children who attend community schools (because the government failed to provide proper educational places for them) are treated like second class citizens in their own country. The government talks a lot of wonderful talk - "we provide grants and trained teachers to community schools" - but none of it is true. Grants rarely come and instead of providing teachers they take them away. The only time the government wants to see a community school is when it pays up the exam fees for its students to write at a government center.
All in all, I think that the highlight of the conference was the lunch. And what a lunch it was!
There were some positives that came out of the conference though. One was the sweet faux leather carrying case with the conference logo. There was also the large number of free bottles of water. The conference itself was held in the prestigious Mulungushi International Conference Center and the room that we used looked very much like the UN Security Council room, right down to the interpreters windows along the side, the horseshoe in the middle, and the table microphones. I presume that the room must be used for whatever international conferences are held in Zambia.
Another bonus was the lunch. Each lunch involved: rice, nshima, potatoes, beef, chicken, pork, two salads, vegetables, fruit, cake, and soft drinks. I can't imagine how much they must have paid for this lavish cuisine; it crossed my mind that for the fraction of the cost of one of the meals Aisha School where I work could have been entirely renovated.
Speaking of Aisha School, the Ministry decided (without consulting us) that a tour of the school's computer facility would be part of the conference. This meant busily preparing the facility and filling it with additional computers for the day to make it look full. The tour went quite well and everyone was very impressed. Some of them were doubly impressed when they discovered that the Ministry has done nothing for the school and hasn't provided so much as a cent in the last six years.
That's the thing about community schools - without them the education system would be a complete failure in the city but the government neither has the inclination or the resources to help them. Children who attend community schools (because the government failed to provide proper educational places for them) are treated like second class citizens in their own country. The government talks a lot of wonderful talk - "we provide grants and trained teachers to community schools" - but none of it is true. Grants rarely come and instead of providing teachers they take them away. The only time the government wants to see a community school is when it pays up the exam fees for its students to write at a government center.
All in all, I think that the highlight of the conference was the lunch. And what a lunch it was!
Monday, March 19, 2007
The National Identity
I suppose that every country has a few items that they are proud of and would like everyone to know. In Zambia, however, it seems like everyone has chosen the same few facts that they like to tell non-Zambians as many times as possible. When you first meet someone it is not impossible, in fact quite likely, that at any pause in the conversation they will ask "Did you know that Zambia is a peaceful country?" or "Did you know that Zambia has 72 tribes?" If one meets three people and has a conversation of any length with these people, it is highly likely that at least two will bust out these "national facts." It seems that those two facts have become fundamental to Zambia's definition of itself, or at least how it likes to define itself to outsiders. Not to say that these things aren't impressive achievements. When your country is surrounded by such pillars of stability and peace like Angola, DRC, Mozambique, and Zimbabwe it is quite something to say that you are a peaceful nation, or that you have successfully embraced 72 tribes peacefully into one nation state.
I wonder what Canada's "national facts" are. I guess one might be that we are a "multicultural society - a mosaic not a melting pot" (at least that is what we tell ourselves). At the same time, I can't say that I've ever felt that the fundamental fact that a visitor to Canada had to know was about our multicultural society. Weather might be another contender. The advantage to living through some cold winters is the ability to impress the world with the conditions you have survived.
By now I've heard the "national facts" a good number of times. I just smile and nod and say that yes, indeed, I did know that. People still find it important to tell me though. I guess they are just doing their national duty and making sure that I am up to speed on what is important to the identity of the country.
I wonder what Canada's "national facts" are. I guess one might be that we are a "multicultural society - a mosaic not a melting pot" (at least that is what we tell ourselves). At the same time, I can't say that I've ever felt that the fundamental fact that a visitor to Canada had to know was about our multicultural society. Weather might be another contender. The advantage to living through some cold winters is the ability to impress the world with the conditions you have survived.
By now I've heard the "national facts" a good number of times. I just smile and nod and say that yes, indeed, I did know that. People still find it important to tell me though. I guess they are just doing their national duty and making sure that I am up to speed on what is important to the identity of the country.
The Shirt Off My Back
This Sunday I visited one of the major local craft markets to stock up on my African craft collection. It was actually quite a successful visit, which peaked when I was able to trade the shirt off my back.
Often venders offer to trade something instead of making you buy it, but this is usually a plot to suck you in and then eventually get the item plus a little money. I, however, was not to be ensnared by such trickery. I was wearing a green golf shirt that was far too big for me and on the verge of being permanently sweat stained. I had another t-shirt in my bag and so when the vender offered to trade I offered the shirt I was wearing. He was interested and then we began the long process of haggling over the price. At first we were looking at masks but after lengthy discussions about the masks (he wanted shirt + money), we moved on to other items. Occasionally I would pretend to walk away in order to get the negotiations going the way I wanted them too. Finally I got him to a small drum and three wire lizards. At this point he wanted my shirt plus K2000 to buy a drink. I, however, wanted this to be a completely bartered transaction. I remembered that I had a little water left in my bottle from lunch. So I offered my shirt and about 200 mLs of water. That deal stuck and I whipped off my shirt and gave it to him right there and then.
Not every day that you can trade the shirt off your back for something!
Often venders offer to trade something instead of making you buy it, but this is usually a plot to suck you in and then eventually get the item plus a little money. I, however, was not to be ensnared by such trickery. I was wearing a green golf shirt that was far too big for me and on the verge of being permanently sweat stained. I had another t-shirt in my bag and so when the vender offered to trade I offered the shirt I was wearing. He was interested and then we began the long process of haggling over the price. At first we were looking at masks but after lengthy discussions about the masks (he wanted shirt + money), we moved on to other items. Occasionally I would pretend to walk away in order to get the negotiations going the way I wanted them too. Finally I got him to a small drum and three wire lizards. At this point he wanted my shirt plus K2000 to buy a drink. I, however, wanted this to be a completely bartered transaction. I remembered that I had a little water left in my bottle from lunch. So I offered my shirt and about 200 mLs of water. That deal stuck and I whipped off my shirt and gave it to him right there and then.
Not every day that you can trade the shirt off your back for something!
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Paying Homage and Other Stories
This weekend I had the chance to take a 5 day trip to accompany my host father on his business in the Copperbelt. Much of the trip was spent following him around doing errands as he takes care of various sets of orphans and the numerous businesses he administers, many for deceased children of his. There were also many very enjoyable moments and some highlights I would like to pass along. The trip was centered in the cities of Ndola, Kitwe, and the small village of Ibenga but we also passed through Chingola, Chililibombwe, Mufulira, Kalulushi, and Luansha - for those of you who like maps.
I should first say that despite being the mining and industrial hub of Zambia the towns are all really nice. I had pictured ugly, dirty mining towns - think 19th century London with its smog and grime and you will get close to what I expected. Instead, I found the nicest towns I have visited in Zambia. Why? This seems to be due to that pleasant colonial policy of not letting black people live anywhere near town. Hence, the houses and buildings in town are all really nice - fit for the Brits, Rhodesians, and South Africans who ran the place - while the dwellings for poor people are all shoved to the outskirts. It may be a downright rotten way to run a country but a great way to build a nice looking town. The result is leafy trees, nice colonial era banks and administrative buildings, and nice houses with large yards that, unlike Lusaka, do not have to be surrounded by ten feet of brick and electric fencing.
The countryside is also really nice. It is very green and unlike the south, is capable of growing trees that stand more than 10 feet tall. In addition to natural vegetation there are also large tree plantations which look just like natural forests. These are quite large and so you can pass for quite long distances with forest on both sides of the road. So much for polluted, industrial paradise.
The first highlight was the Dag Hammerskold memorial near Ndola. He was the UN Secretary-General who was killed when his plane crashed there in 1961 on his way to mediate between warring parties in one of DR Congo's many fights. After 5 kilometers of driving off the main road we arrived at a beautifully treed memorial site. A statue now sits where the plane crashed and a plaque marks the ant hill where his body was found. Everything is very well laid out and there was a nicely built interpretative center at the side. There was even a pleasant and knowledgable guide. Even though I knew nothing about Dag H, I felt a little moved by the facility and the man.
Another highlight was the mines. Unfortunately, being the weekend, we were unable to get a tour but saw among others the wettest underground mine in the world and the second largest open pit mine in the world (both figure are according to my host father). They told us, though, that if we returned an underground mine tour could be ours. Will have to try and work that in sometime.
One reason for the trip was for my host dad to visit his farm. He runs a farm that was left by his late son. It is quite large, especially for Zambia, with three large maize fields that take two months to harvest (manually) with 100-150 workers. All you can see is row after row of maize. Last year they produced 17,000 bags, the year before that was 22,000. This year will likely break both of those marks. To go to the farm we stayed over night in a town called Ibenga. I slept at a farm house of one of my host dad's many relatives in the town. It was great - there was no power and, being the countryside with no towns anywhere nearby, the view of the stars was tremendous. I had no idea that there even were that many up there! It is a neat thing to be squatting over a hole in the outhouse (squatting, not sitting, as there was no seat), by the light of a lantern.
On the way back from the farm I asked my host dad a question about chiefs. Before I knew it we whisked off the main road and were on a bumpy track heading for the local chief's palace. Palace is a bit of a misnomer. The house itself is smaller than a bungalow, and his several wives live in other houses just outside the complex. It does have electricity, though, as a wire is sent out from the nearest town several kilometers away just for the purpose of electrifying his house. We were greeted by one of the wives who then sent for the chief and we went to his meeting place where we were questioned by the chief's attendant. When the chief showed up we remove our hats and knelt on the ground. You don't shake hands with a chief as he is far more important than you are. When the chief gave us the OK we sat down. It was explained that my host dad had a farm in such and such a place (although not actually in his chiefdom) and that we were passing through and felt it appropriate to pay our respects to the chief. Then my host dad gave the attendant some money, and the attendant passed it on to the chief (you don't give it directly, that would be disrespectful). After a brief conversation we left and continued on our way. As it turned out we were interrupting the chief from a funeral (these last several days) for his niece (who died when there was a bike on bike accident with his son). It's not every day that you get to pay homage to your local African chief. I asked my host dad a lot of questions about the chief system on the way home that day and will write more on the subject later.
My host dad has many business interests I had not known of that I discovered on this trip. It was also a very sad trip in lots of ways. He has a heavy equipment rental company that his son had bought with some friends after privatization. His son had ran it quite well and was the majority shareholder but after his death my host dad had the friends run the day-to-day operations because the company is based in Copperbelt, not Lusaka. We were at the business several times and clearly the friends have done a horrible job - the place is nothing more than a pile of rusted metal junk now with only a very few working vehicles and even these were not on the road because the drivers had not been paid. Then we visited a guesthouse in Kitwe which had been run by another son (note that I'm not always sure who are actual biological sons because the word son includes both sons and the sons of your brothers) who worked and was trained in the catering industry. After his death his daughters are trying to carry on the place. Again the business is suffering. My host dad really wants to spend more time on these businesses but he also feels called to his ministry in Lusaka. Several times he pointed out that he would really like to spend more time on these businesses but he needs to do God's work first. Clearly he has made up his mind what is more important to him, but at the same time he also reguarly faces pulls in other ways. I'm sure it is not an enjoyable situation to be in to watch your family's businesses slowly fall apart while not being able to do much to stop it.
Anyways, that was quick summary of our trip. A nice getaway and a great chance to see more of the country.
I should first say that despite being the mining and industrial hub of Zambia the towns are all really nice. I had pictured ugly, dirty mining towns - think 19th century London with its smog and grime and you will get close to what I expected. Instead, I found the nicest towns I have visited in Zambia. Why? This seems to be due to that pleasant colonial policy of not letting black people live anywhere near town. Hence, the houses and buildings in town are all really nice - fit for the Brits, Rhodesians, and South Africans who ran the place - while the dwellings for poor people are all shoved to the outskirts. It may be a downright rotten way to run a country but a great way to build a nice looking town. The result is leafy trees, nice colonial era banks and administrative buildings, and nice houses with large yards that, unlike Lusaka, do not have to be surrounded by ten feet of brick and electric fencing.
The countryside is also really nice. It is very green and unlike the south, is capable of growing trees that stand more than 10 feet tall. In addition to natural vegetation there are also large tree plantations which look just like natural forests. These are quite large and so you can pass for quite long distances with forest on both sides of the road. So much for polluted, industrial paradise.
The first highlight was the Dag Hammerskold memorial near Ndola. He was the UN Secretary-General who was killed when his plane crashed there in 1961 on his way to mediate between warring parties in one of DR Congo's many fights. After 5 kilometers of driving off the main road we arrived at a beautifully treed memorial site. A statue now sits where the plane crashed and a plaque marks the ant hill where his body was found. Everything is very well laid out and there was a nicely built interpretative center at the side. There was even a pleasant and knowledgable guide. Even though I knew nothing about Dag H, I felt a little moved by the facility and the man.
Another highlight was the mines. Unfortunately, being the weekend, we were unable to get a tour but saw among others the wettest underground mine in the world and the second largest open pit mine in the world (both figure are according to my host father). They told us, though, that if we returned an underground mine tour could be ours. Will have to try and work that in sometime.
One reason for the trip was for my host dad to visit his farm. He runs a farm that was left by his late son. It is quite large, especially for Zambia, with three large maize fields that take two months to harvest (manually) with 100-150 workers. All you can see is row after row of maize. Last year they produced 17,000 bags, the year before that was 22,000. This year will likely break both of those marks. To go to the farm we stayed over night in a town called Ibenga. I slept at a farm house of one of my host dad's many relatives in the town. It was great - there was no power and, being the countryside with no towns anywhere nearby, the view of the stars was tremendous. I had no idea that there even were that many up there! It is a neat thing to be squatting over a hole in the outhouse (squatting, not sitting, as there was no seat), by the light of a lantern.
On the way back from the farm I asked my host dad a question about chiefs. Before I knew it we whisked off the main road and were on a bumpy track heading for the local chief's palace. Palace is a bit of a misnomer. The house itself is smaller than a bungalow, and his several wives live in other houses just outside the complex. It does have electricity, though, as a wire is sent out from the nearest town several kilometers away just for the purpose of electrifying his house. We were greeted by one of the wives who then sent for the chief and we went to his meeting place where we were questioned by the chief's attendant. When the chief showed up we remove our hats and knelt on the ground. You don't shake hands with a chief as he is far more important than you are. When the chief gave us the OK we sat down. It was explained that my host dad had a farm in such and such a place (although not actually in his chiefdom) and that we were passing through and felt it appropriate to pay our respects to the chief. Then my host dad gave the attendant some money, and the attendant passed it on to the chief (you don't give it directly, that would be disrespectful). After a brief conversation we left and continued on our way. As it turned out we were interrupting the chief from a funeral (these last several days) for his niece (who died when there was a bike on bike accident with his son). It's not every day that you get to pay homage to your local African chief. I asked my host dad a lot of questions about the chief system on the way home that day and will write more on the subject later.
My host dad has many business interests I had not known of that I discovered on this trip. It was also a very sad trip in lots of ways. He has a heavy equipment rental company that his son had bought with some friends after privatization. His son had ran it quite well and was the majority shareholder but after his death my host dad had the friends run the day-to-day operations because the company is based in Copperbelt, not Lusaka. We were at the business several times and clearly the friends have done a horrible job - the place is nothing more than a pile of rusted metal junk now with only a very few working vehicles and even these were not on the road because the drivers had not been paid. Then we visited a guesthouse in Kitwe which had been run by another son (note that I'm not always sure who are actual biological sons because the word son includes both sons and the sons of your brothers) who worked and was trained in the catering industry. After his death his daughters are trying to carry on the place. Again the business is suffering. My host dad really wants to spend more time on these businesses but he also feels called to his ministry in Lusaka. Several times he pointed out that he would really like to spend more time on these businesses but he needs to do God's work first. Clearly he has made up his mind what is more important to him, but at the same time he also reguarly faces pulls in other ways. I'm sure it is not an enjoyable situation to be in to watch your family's businesses slowly fall apart while not being able to do much to stop it.
Anyways, that was quick summary of our trip. A nice getaway and a great chance to see more of the country.
International Women's Day
It has surprised me a little the important role of females in my experience here. In fact, it seems that this term has been particularly dedicated to the advancement of the "girl child." Between becoming a netball coach and having a club that once was mixed but, to my surprise, became all female, this term I have had a lot of interaction with girls outside the classroom space. Combine this with my indignation of the horrendous state (from a western perspective) of gender-issue awareness (let alone equality!!) and the result has been an issue that I care quite a bit about, one that I would not necessarily would have guessed would have been a focal point of my activity when I began my positions. Gender inequality is a disaster here that has resulted in such tragedies as high abuse rates and the growth of HIV/AIDS. Yet it is also not an issue that any one talks about with any seriousness.
In my Grade 9 Civics class the unit on gender issues happened to coincide with International Women's Day last Thursday. The curriculum developers should be commended for having such a unit, although it should be pointed out that it takes up all of two pages in the textbook (compared to four dedicated to the Commonwealth [what a useful, relevant organization that is], for example). Nonetheless, the two occasions gave me a chance to have a good talk about gender issues in class. This was in a class where only weeks ago I had been told that a woman could not possibly be president of Zambia because they were weak, emotional, and would be disrespected so I felt that such a conversation was long overdue. I took the materials the textbook gave me and went far beyond, trying to draw on other problems that face women besides the largely unrelevant list of discriminatory laws in Zambia (for example, a woman is not allowed to work underground or work in a factory at night). I would like to think that the message hit home for some people. I saw the girls nodding their heads in agreement quite frequently - clearly they had experienced, or knew of people who experienced, the things that I was talking about. To make it clear that I wasn't just a westerner beating up on Africans I also used western examples to illustrate that this was a world, not a Zambian or African, problem.
There was also quite the debacle from the government this last week on the issue of International Women's Day, which fell on Thursday. On Tuesday night the government broadcaster released a press release saying that the cabinet had just held a meeting and declared that Women's Day would henceforth be a national holiday starting this year. Just as people heard of the declaration, the government decided twenty-four hours later to withdraw the holiday and proclaimed that it would start next year. This did make significantly more sense than calling a holiday two days before the event, but flip-flopping hardly helped. Some people took the holiday, others didn't.
Should it even be a holiday? As important as women's issues are here I can't see a holiday helping much. Except for making it easier for the few thousand people who participate in or watch one of the Women's Day activities (a march past the president of women) to take the day off work it really won't make a speck of difference. Zambia has a way of making vast national statements that pay lip service to ideals that in practice make no difference. For example, Zambia is officially a "Christian nation" but I can hardly see how this has helped the behaviour of its citizens become more Christian. In addition, the 12th of March is already a holiday - Youth Day. So to have a holiday on the 8th and then one on the 12th will be nothing but a mess. For example, this year there would have been a holiday on Thursday, then people would have worked on Friday, then had the weekend and a holiday on Monday. Women's groups are very happy about this pronouncement, I guess because they'll take whatever good news they can get. I can't see, however, that the guy who gets the day off work to go hang out at the bar will think of how important women's issues are when he downs his fifth chibuku. I guess I should wait and see and withhold judgement till then but I just can't imagine it will do much good.
In my Grade 9 Civics class the unit on gender issues happened to coincide with International Women's Day last Thursday. The curriculum developers should be commended for having such a unit, although it should be pointed out that it takes up all of two pages in the textbook (compared to four dedicated to the Commonwealth [what a useful, relevant organization that is], for example). Nonetheless, the two occasions gave me a chance to have a good talk about gender issues in class. This was in a class where only weeks ago I had been told that a woman could not possibly be president of Zambia because they were weak, emotional, and would be disrespected so I felt that such a conversation was long overdue. I took the materials the textbook gave me and went far beyond, trying to draw on other problems that face women besides the largely unrelevant list of discriminatory laws in Zambia (for example, a woman is not allowed to work underground or work in a factory at night). I would like to think that the message hit home for some people. I saw the girls nodding their heads in agreement quite frequently - clearly they had experienced, or knew of people who experienced, the things that I was talking about. To make it clear that I wasn't just a westerner beating up on Africans I also used western examples to illustrate that this was a world, not a Zambian or African, problem.
There was also quite the debacle from the government this last week on the issue of International Women's Day, which fell on Thursday. On Tuesday night the government broadcaster released a press release saying that the cabinet had just held a meeting and declared that Women's Day would henceforth be a national holiday starting this year. Just as people heard of the declaration, the government decided twenty-four hours later to withdraw the holiday and proclaimed that it would start next year. This did make significantly more sense than calling a holiday two days before the event, but flip-flopping hardly helped. Some people took the holiday, others didn't.
Should it even be a holiday? As important as women's issues are here I can't see a holiday helping much. Except for making it easier for the few thousand people who participate in or watch one of the Women's Day activities (a march past the president of women) to take the day off work it really won't make a speck of difference. Zambia has a way of making vast national statements that pay lip service to ideals that in practice make no difference. For example, Zambia is officially a "Christian nation" but I can hardly see how this has helped the behaviour of its citizens become more Christian. In addition, the 12th of March is already a holiday - Youth Day. So to have a holiday on the 8th and then one on the 12th will be nothing but a mess. For example, this year there would have been a holiday on Thursday, then people would have worked on Friday, then had the weekend and a holiday on Monday. Women's groups are very happy about this pronouncement, I guess because they'll take whatever good news they can get. I can't see, however, that the guy who gets the day off work to go hang out at the bar will think of how important women's issues are when he downs his fifth chibuku. I guess I should wait and see and withhold judgement till then but I just can't imagine it will do much good.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Do Africans Eat Dessert?
This question was asked of me at a farewell party this summer and at the time I failed to come up with an answer. I can now answer this definitively. No. After living with a Zambian family for several months now we have had dessert one time - custard. Another time I thought we were having custard - it looked exactly the same, was served in the same bowls, and I had seen the custard box around earlier in the day. I took a big spoonful, expecting to savour a delicious custard, and ended up swallowing chicken soup. What a disappointment!
This is not to say that people don't eat sweet things. They just don't do it after supper. Any other time of the day is OK but they never really do it during a meal.
I have taken some steps to rectify the problem. For one, I made brownies the other day and my host family can't get enough of them so I've made them several times since. They are also hooked on garlic bread - it is interesting what things really catch on. I guess I'm just trying to bring dessert to Africa one brownie at a time.
An aside completely unrelated to sweets:
My apologies for not saying anything for the last week or so. We've had no power for a length of time and then the internet of several service providers in Zambia was down for a couple of days. It finally came back today. Thus is life.
This is not to say that people don't eat sweet things. They just don't do it after supper. Any other time of the day is OK but they never really do it during a meal.
I have taken some steps to rectify the problem. For one, I made brownies the other day and my host family can't get enough of them so I've made them several times since. They are also hooked on garlic bread - it is interesting what things really catch on. I guess I'm just trying to bring dessert to Africa one brownie at a time.
An aside completely unrelated to sweets:
My apologies for not saying anything for the last week or so. We've had no power for a length of time and then the internet of several service providers in Zambia was down for a couple of days. It finally came back today. Thus is life.
The Future
I have some news for the future to report to everyone. I have accepted an offer from Queen's University in Kingston to do my MA in History. This is a pretty exciting choice for me and I am looking forward to it beginning in the fall.
One thing that I have spent a little time doing lately is thinking about the end. This has been brought on both by this Queen's business and by receiving the details for my flight to Akron for July. I have to admit that at this point I am not particularly looking forward to leaving. There are a few reasons for this. For one, every day here is filled with tremendous meaning and purpose. I wake up and I get to go to work at a place I enjoy, doing work that I find important, and get to see some of the impact of that work as people gain skills and become more comfortable with different tasks. I will also miss the tremendous reception that I have received here. No where else will people clap in excitement when I show up or come running to meet me in large numbers. I have also really gotten to like working with the students that I work with now. My new Grade 8 class was a bit rambunctious at the beginning but since have settled down to an appropriate level yet are still very enthusiastic and eager. I have gotten to know a large number of them outside the classroom as well which has added to my experience. So I will miss my students and fellow staff members as well.
Fortunately there is a long time till the end. On the other hand, this term is almost done and I'm not even here for the full next term. I know full well how quickly the time flies by and it is saddening to think that the end is, if not on the horizon, then just beyond. It is also nice to have a concrete and exciting plan to look forward to after Zambia. I won't be going back to an empty nebulous of not knowing what to do.
One thing that I have spent a little time doing lately is thinking about the end. This has been brought on both by this Queen's business and by receiving the details for my flight to Akron for July. I have to admit that at this point I am not particularly looking forward to leaving. There are a few reasons for this. For one, every day here is filled with tremendous meaning and purpose. I wake up and I get to go to work at a place I enjoy, doing work that I find important, and get to see some of the impact of that work as people gain skills and become more comfortable with different tasks. I will also miss the tremendous reception that I have received here. No where else will people clap in excitement when I show up or come running to meet me in large numbers. I have also really gotten to like working with the students that I work with now. My new Grade 8 class was a bit rambunctious at the beginning but since have settled down to an appropriate level yet are still very enthusiastic and eager. I have gotten to know a large number of them outside the classroom as well which has added to my experience. So I will miss my students and fellow staff members as well.
Fortunately there is a long time till the end. On the other hand, this term is almost done and I'm not even here for the full next term. I know full well how quickly the time flies by and it is saddening to think that the end is, if not on the horizon, then just beyond. It is also nice to have a concrete and exciting plan to look forward to after Zambia. I won't be going back to an empty nebulous of not knowing what to do.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
The Five Worst Smells in Lusaka
1. Grade 7 Classroom, Chimwemwe Trust School
Add 65 adolescent kids + one small room + little ventilation + kids sitting three to a desk + hot weather and what do you get? One heck of a stink. This pungent odor is not something I look forward to when I go into their room for their weekly computer lesson. One can fall victim to the stench even when not in the room - just standing in the vicinity is dangerous as the odour oozes into the nearby passageway.
2. Toilets, Aisha School
Well the word toilet may bring up the wrong connotations because there is nothing that would resemble a western toilet any where near the facility. Think more of a hole in the ground, usually with the remains of a kid's poop lying around the edges and then with urine all over the floor. Now mix that with some hot days (every day) and one can imagine the overwhelming nature of this odour pollution!
3. Gold Band Margarine
Zambians buy crappy margarine. Most aren't too bad - they may go by names like "Medium Fat Spread" (can you imagine that selling well in Canada? At least, I guess, it's honest) and will at least add some reasonable fascimile of margarine taste to bread. Then there is Gold Band. That stuff smells so bad that I can't stand to have it open on the same table as me. When I used it (I have now stopped, preferring plain bread to that stuff) I would hold it out as far away from me as I could and then get as little as possible on my knife to put on the bread. Then I would quickly make sure that the lid was shut. Finally I could breathe again. There was still the problem of the margarine on my bread, but at least that was in a small enough quantity that I could manage.
4. Garbage containers
Most people just throw their garbage wherever the spirit leads them and there are lots of impromptu garbage dumps around. Occasionally one finds a city council garbage bin. This is a great idea, except that I can't say that I've ever seen evidence that they are emptied. The garbage just piles up higher and higher and then spreads to the surrounding area. There is one downtown that is particularly pungent. Again: Garbage + Heat + Time = GROSS
5. Me
Well, not all the time. But I do know that from time to time I am contributing to the body odour problem that this city has. The problem is this. Some mornings I wake up with too little time to bathe and then, even if there is time, there is no water in the bucket. If this happens a few days in a row (or if there is no water at all for several days) then I go without a bath. Combined with wearing trousers and long-sleeved tops, cycling for two hours a day, and participating in the occasional sporting event and I build up a bit of a stink. I am by no means the worst. Not even close. But I do admit that my standards of cleanliness are well below former standards.
Add 65 adolescent kids + one small room + little ventilation + kids sitting three to a desk + hot weather and what do you get? One heck of a stink. This pungent odor is not something I look forward to when I go into their room for their weekly computer lesson. One can fall victim to the stench even when not in the room - just standing in the vicinity is dangerous as the odour oozes into the nearby passageway.
2. Toilets, Aisha School
Well the word toilet may bring up the wrong connotations because there is nothing that would resemble a western toilet any where near the facility. Think more of a hole in the ground, usually with the remains of a kid's poop lying around the edges and then with urine all over the floor. Now mix that with some hot days (every day) and one can imagine the overwhelming nature of this odour pollution!
3. Gold Band Margarine
Zambians buy crappy margarine. Most aren't too bad - they may go by names like "Medium Fat Spread" (can you imagine that selling well in Canada? At least, I guess, it's honest) and will at least add some reasonable fascimile of margarine taste to bread. Then there is Gold Band. That stuff smells so bad that I can't stand to have it open on the same table as me. When I used it (I have now stopped, preferring plain bread to that stuff) I would hold it out as far away from me as I could and then get as little as possible on my knife to put on the bread. Then I would quickly make sure that the lid was shut. Finally I could breathe again. There was still the problem of the margarine on my bread, but at least that was in a small enough quantity that I could manage.
4. Garbage containers
Most people just throw their garbage wherever the spirit leads them and there are lots of impromptu garbage dumps around. Occasionally one finds a city council garbage bin. This is a great idea, except that I can't say that I've ever seen evidence that they are emptied. The garbage just piles up higher and higher and then spreads to the surrounding area. There is one downtown that is particularly pungent. Again: Garbage + Heat + Time = GROSS
5. Me
Well, not all the time. But I do know that from time to time I am contributing to the body odour problem that this city has. The problem is this. Some mornings I wake up with too little time to bathe and then, even if there is time, there is no water in the bucket. If this happens a few days in a row (or if there is no water at all for several days) then I go without a bath. Combined with wearing trousers and long-sleeved tops, cycling for two hours a day, and participating in the occasional sporting event and I build up a bit of a stink. I am by no means the worst. Not even close. But I do admit that my standards of cleanliness are well below former standards.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
The Hills Are Alive With the Sound of Music
Thought some of you would like this title, but it is also apt because Lusaka is both hilly and full of music. In fact, one of the things I love about this place is the sounds. All kinds of sounds are interesting - just as the sights and smells differ radically from life in Canada, the sounds are also different. I often wish I had a tape recorder along with me so I could record some of these moments, take a "photograph" of the audio world. Alas, I don't have the technology, so I will have to resort to reporting on it, in particular music.
I regularly hear music, even when just biking to school. There are often church choirs, or funeral gatherings, singing, practicing, and praising God. If it has been stereotyped that Mennonites can sing well, the same can be said for Zambians. When I listen to the choir at church I often think that this group could easily be recorded and sold on a CD. Every church I've been to - I think I've been to six different denominations now - had wonderful singing. Some sing acapella, others with the accompaniment of a keyboard but the sound is always wonderful. The combination of powerful bass voices with soaring sopranos, usually accentuated by some ululations from the audience, combine for a wonderful listening experience. The singing portion is definitely my favourite part of the church service. Although I have no idea what we are singing about (I presume its about God, but that's about all I know) I do recognize good music when I hear it.
Zambian pop music, the stuff that people listen to most on the radio (although gospel music also has a very strong presence) all sounds basically the same. High on artificial synth music, low on anything to do with an instrument. When describing Zambian music to one colleague I was listing the different major musicians and after each I concluded that "he sounds like K'Millian." K'Millian is, from what I can tell, the IT performer on the Zambian scene. I have purchased a small collection of the most popular singers which I will bring home in order to relive my Zambian days. At some point I will get some church music to round out my collection.
The sound of music then is one of many on the list of defining experiences this year. To walk down the street and hear choirs practicing, people on the back of a truck singing for joy or sadness, and to hear music pouring out of churches throughout the city has been an unforgettable experience.
I regularly hear music, even when just biking to school. There are often church choirs, or funeral gatherings, singing, practicing, and praising God. If it has been stereotyped that Mennonites can sing well, the same can be said for Zambians. When I listen to the choir at church I often think that this group could easily be recorded and sold on a CD. Every church I've been to - I think I've been to six different denominations now - had wonderful singing. Some sing acapella, others with the accompaniment of a keyboard but the sound is always wonderful. The combination of powerful bass voices with soaring sopranos, usually accentuated by some ululations from the audience, combine for a wonderful listening experience. The singing portion is definitely my favourite part of the church service. Although I have no idea what we are singing about (I presume its about God, but that's about all I know) I do recognize good music when I hear it.
Zambian pop music, the stuff that people listen to most on the radio (although gospel music also has a very strong presence) all sounds basically the same. High on artificial synth music, low on anything to do with an instrument. When describing Zambian music to one colleague I was listing the different major musicians and after each I concluded that "he sounds like K'Millian." K'Millian is, from what I can tell, the IT performer on the Zambian scene. I have purchased a small collection of the most popular singers which I will bring home in order to relive my Zambian days. At some point I will get some church music to round out my collection.
The sound of music then is one of many on the list of defining experiences this year. To walk down the street and hear choirs practicing, people on the back of a truck singing for joy or sadness, and to hear music pouring out of churches throughout the city has been an unforgettable experience.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
The Challenge of Teaching
One of the major challenges I have found in teaching is the wide range of skill levels possessed by the students. In my Grade 8 class, for example, there are some that are very intelligent and grasp everything right away. There are others who can't read. There are only a few at the top end, quite a few in the middle, and then some at the bottom. This leads me to wonder: to whom should I be aiming my instruction at. If I aim only at the top end then most of the class will flounder but the top end, who actually have a chance of passing the exams next year, will be well prepared. If I aim at the bottom end, I might be able to bring them up a little bit but they still won't pass and the top end will be left bored.
I still haven't quite developed a consistent answer to this question. Probably in effect I am aiming at the top end and the middle or upper middle of the class. I have to, after all, make some progress in the curriculum and can't go over the same things over and over again. Nonetheless, I often wonder if I should be doing more for the other kids as well or if this would not make much difference in the end anyways.
I still haven't quite developed a consistent answer to this question. Probably in effect I am aiming at the top end and the middle or upper middle of the class. I have to, after all, make some progress in the curriculum and can't go over the same things over and over again. Nonetheless, I often wonder if I should be doing more for the other kids as well or if this would not make much difference in the end anyways.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
When the Sun Shines
The sun is shining again after a month of frequent rain making me a very happy person. Rainy season is not technically over yet - rains will continue off-and-on until March - but it is certainly slowing down and it is a very welcome change. It is wonderful to wake up in the morning and see nothing but brilliant blue sky, especially after waking up every day to the drudgery of endless miles of dark grey cloud.
The sunshine has also had many very practical applications in my life. I can take my bike to school every day again instead of having to weigh the odds of rain and choose to take the bus. Another perk is that the muddy roads that resulted in slow travelling and dirty trousers have now dried up and are passible again. Some roads had turned into large lakes and you had to cling to a very narrow mud path around the edge, fighting for space with vegetation and other pedestrians, while trying to avoid slipping into the murky waters.
The sun also puts me in a much better mood. After weeks of cloud I found myself a little grumpy and I think it might have had something to do with the weather. With the sun in the sky nothing can bother me. For the first few months after I arrived in Zambia I hardly saw a single cloud. I almost had to remind myself what they were when they started to appear. I'm really looking forward to going back to that picture perfect weather for the rest of my stay - especially when it starts to cool down a bit in a couple of months.
The blue sky here is wonderful. It has a depth and texture all its own. When you look around and see nothing but but blue and try and stare into it for awhile, I am made very aware of my finite smallness. That may sound a little cliche, but its the truth.
Its another sunny day, which makes it another good day in the life of Stefan.
The sunshine has also had many very practical applications in my life. I can take my bike to school every day again instead of having to weigh the odds of rain and choose to take the bus. Another perk is that the muddy roads that resulted in slow travelling and dirty trousers have now dried up and are passible again. Some roads had turned into large lakes and you had to cling to a very narrow mud path around the edge, fighting for space with vegetation and other pedestrians, while trying to avoid slipping into the murky waters.
The sun also puts me in a much better mood. After weeks of cloud I found myself a little grumpy and I think it might have had something to do with the weather. With the sun in the sky nothing can bother me. For the first few months after I arrived in Zambia I hardly saw a single cloud. I almost had to remind myself what they were when they started to appear. I'm really looking forward to going back to that picture perfect weather for the rest of my stay - especially when it starts to cool down a bit in a couple of months.
The blue sky here is wonderful. It has a depth and texture all its own. When you look around and see nothing but but blue and try and stare into it for awhile, I am made very aware of my finite smallness. That may sound a little cliche, but its the truth.
Its another sunny day, which makes it another good day in the life of Stefan.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Failed System Fails Failing Students
There. Just wanted to see how many uses of the word "fail" I could throw into one failure of a title. It was for good reason, however, as the Grade 9 examination results from November have just been announced, and in Lusaka only 27% of students have progressed to Grade 10.
I have been feeling a little bit of pressure this term because I am now teaching an examination class - Grade 9 Civics. At the end of Grade 7 and Grade 9 there are mandatory exams. If you succeed you go on to the next grade at a government school. If not, then you either drop out of school, try again next year, or try and find a school that will take you. So, teaching one of these classes means that if I don't teach well then the future of kids could well be ruined. Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration but teaching Grade 9 is a different beast than Grade 8 or Grade 10. I needn't have worried. With the results that are coming out I now realize that no matter what I do very few of my students have a hope of having even a chance of progressing to the next grade.
There are two problems with the Grade 9 exam. First, it is made impossibly hard for most students because there are not many Grade 10 places to put successful exam writers. Secondly, most students have very little knowledge for the exams even if they study hard. Partly that's because many of them have very poor English skills.
The national progression rate this year was about 37%. Lusaka was by far the lowest province at 27%. This doesn't mean that city kids are stupid - it just means that there are fewer places to put them so the standards are much higher. Progressing has absolutely no relation to passing the exam. A pass is considered to be 240 of 600. Progression in Lusaka was 336 for girls and 376 for boys (in order to encourage female education). It is not terribly encouraging that only a quarter of students were able to get slightly over 50%.
The story was not particularly good at the schools where I work. One had 7 of 60 progress to Grade 10. Last year that school had 5 progressions out of 40 kids. At the other school the number 4 progressions out of 60 pupils has been used (but someone else told me they hadn't actually gone for any results yet). The same person that told me 4 of 60 also mentioned that only 11 kids in the whole examination centre progressed out of 600+ kids. Ouch.
It must be a scary time for Grade 9s - preparing for a nearly impossible exam that you will pass only if you are among an elite lucky few. A crazy system it seems to me, but I guess one indicative of the limitations placed on the education system by a lack of places in secondary schools and the poor quality of education that most kids receive (especially among the urban poor and in rural areas).
I have been feeling a little bit of pressure this term because I am now teaching an examination class - Grade 9 Civics. At the end of Grade 7 and Grade 9 there are mandatory exams. If you succeed you go on to the next grade at a government school. If not, then you either drop out of school, try again next year, or try and find a school that will take you. So, teaching one of these classes means that if I don't teach well then the future of kids could well be ruined. Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration but teaching Grade 9 is a different beast than Grade 8 or Grade 10. I needn't have worried. With the results that are coming out I now realize that no matter what I do very few of my students have a hope of having even a chance of progressing to the next grade.
There are two problems with the Grade 9 exam. First, it is made impossibly hard for most students because there are not many Grade 10 places to put successful exam writers. Secondly, most students have very little knowledge for the exams even if they study hard. Partly that's because many of them have very poor English skills.
The national progression rate this year was about 37%. Lusaka was by far the lowest province at 27%. This doesn't mean that city kids are stupid - it just means that there are fewer places to put them so the standards are much higher. Progressing has absolutely no relation to passing the exam. A pass is considered to be 240 of 600. Progression in Lusaka was 336 for girls and 376 for boys (in order to encourage female education). It is not terribly encouraging that only a quarter of students were able to get slightly over 50%.
The story was not particularly good at the schools where I work. One had 7 of 60 progress to Grade 10. Last year that school had 5 progressions out of 40 kids. At the other school the number 4 progressions out of 60 pupils has been used (but someone else told me they hadn't actually gone for any results yet). The same person that told me 4 of 60 also mentioned that only 11 kids in the whole examination centre progressed out of 600+ kids. Ouch.
It must be a scary time for Grade 9s - preparing for a nearly impossible exam that you will pass only if you are among an elite lucky few. A crazy system it seems to me, but I guess one indicative of the limitations placed on the education system by a lack of places in secondary schools and the poor quality of education that most kids receive (especially among the urban poor and in rural areas).
Monday, February 19, 2007
Coaching Career Off to Poor Start
A week ago we discovered that the inter-school leagues were about to start and so last week we set about training our players in boys football and girls netball. I have been working with the netball team (despite the fact that I know nothing about the game except what I was able to garner on Wikipedia) and we had our first training session on Wednesday. After the practice I was feeling pretty good about the team - some people were good at defence, we had some good shooters, and it seemed like we could pass well. Boy was I wrong.
Things got off to a bad start in our first game on Friday when our players didn't know how to line up at the beginning of the game. Lots of them had never played before, I myself didn't know, and hadn't thought to tell them. The other team ran circles around us from the first whistle to the last and the final score was nothing less than a 15-0 thrashing. This may seem bad but first it has to be put into perspective: we had raw rookies in Grade 8 playing against players with several years of experience in Grades 11 and 12. The league system is so bizarre that instead of matching schools up against opponents with similar grade levels, we are stuck playing secondary schools. As a result the other team was taller, faster, better trained, and even had nice uniforms!
A question that many might have is what is this game netball. Basically netball is to basketball what ringette is to hockey - a game invented for women to play in an era when women weren't supposed to play real sports. Each player has assigned zones where they can go, you can't dribble (have to pass right away), only certain players can shoot and must do so within a "shooting circle" and the hoop has no backboard. That's netball in a nutshell.
So we'll go back to the drawing board this week and try and improve some of the fundamentals - passing under pressure, getting open, playing defence, where to stand. Hopefully our opponents next week will be of a similar grade level and we have a chance to play a decent game, otherwise another thrashing is in our future. The team is fun though and the game is actually not so bad once you get into it - after all I like pretty much any sport that involves a ball and two teams.
Things got off to a bad start in our first game on Friday when our players didn't know how to line up at the beginning of the game. Lots of them had never played before, I myself didn't know, and hadn't thought to tell them. The other team ran circles around us from the first whistle to the last and the final score was nothing less than a 15-0 thrashing. This may seem bad but first it has to be put into perspective: we had raw rookies in Grade 8 playing against players with several years of experience in Grades 11 and 12. The league system is so bizarre that instead of matching schools up against opponents with similar grade levels, we are stuck playing secondary schools. As a result the other team was taller, faster, better trained, and even had nice uniforms!
A question that many might have is what is this game netball. Basically netball is to basketball what ringette is to hockey - a game invented for women to play in an era when women weren't supposed to play real sports. Each player has assigned zones where they can go, you can't dribble (have to pass right away), only certain players can shoot and must do so within a "shooting circle" and the hoop has no backboard. That's netball in a nutshell.
So we'll go back to the drawing board this week and try and improve some of the fundamentals - passing under pressure, getting open, playing defence, where to stand. Hopefully our opponents next week will be of a similar grade level and we have a chance to play a decent game, otherwise another thrashing is in our future. The team is fun though and the game is actually not so bad once you get into it - after all I like pretty much any sport that involves a ball and two teams.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Caterpillar or Termite?
I've eaten a few strange things lately so I thought I should provide an update on my recent swallowings.
Awhile ago I had fried termites - known as inswa. This was actually pretty tasty. The primary taste is oil and salt with a little crunch. These I had absolutely no problem eating and actually quite enjoyed myself in the process.
More recently I had caterpillars. These are bought dried, then soaked and fried. They were really chewy and almost reminded me a little of black licorice. I didn't particularly enjoy them although they weren't horrible either. I was a little disappointed though, when after finishing my first helping of caterpillar, my host dad gave me a second helping.
One not particularly Zambian delicacy that I have eaten a lot of lately is soy chunks. I guess this isn't exactly a weird food as such but it is something new to my diet. At work the staff is provided lunch and often it is nshima with soy chunks. These chunks look kind of fleshy to the point where the first time I ate them I thought for awhile that it might be chicken and then thought it might be mushroom. Once again, salt is the primary flavour and they actually taste alright. They had better be healthy too, and are presumably quite cheap considering they are being used for large scale staff feeding. It was certainly a step up from the dried fish we had the first week.
Now compare my list of weird eating items with the responses given to my be the kids in my Bible/games club when I asked them if they had ever eaten any weird foods. Almost all of them said that the weirdest food that they had ever eaten was pig. Pig?! They also almost all declared that pig was their least favourite food. I guess this shows the contrast - for me pork products are completely normal and caterpillar is quite bizarre whereas for them it was the opposite.
Awhile ago I had fried termites - known as inswa. This was actually pretty tasty. The primary taste is oil and salt with a little crunch. These I had absolutely no problem eating and actually quite enjoyed myself in the process.
More recently I had caterpillars. These are bought dried, then soaked and fried. They were really chewy and almost reminded me a little of black licorice. I didn't particularly enjoy them although they weren't horrible either. I was a little disappointed though, when after finishing my first helping of caterpillar, my host dad gave me a second helping.
One not particularly Zambian delicacy that I have eaten a lot of lately is soy chunks. I guess this isn't exactly a weird food as such but it is something new to my diet. At work the staff is provided lunch and often it is nshima with soy chunks. These chunks look kind of fleshy to the point where the first time I ate them I thought for awhile that it might be chicken and then thought it might be mushroom. Once again, salt is the primary flavour and they actually taste alright. They had better be healthy too, and are presumably quite cheap considering they are being used for large scale staff feeding. It was certainly a step up from the dried fish we had the first week.
Now compare my list of weird eating items with the responses given to my be the kids in my Bible/games club when I asked them if they had ever eaten any weird foods. Almost all of them said that the weirdest food that they had ever eaten was pig. Pig?! They also almost all declared that pig was their least favourite food. I guess this shows the contrast - for me pork products are completely normal and caterpillar is quite bizarre whereas for them it was the opposite.
The Evolution of My English
Zambian English has many subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, differences from Canadian English. The longer I'm here I increasingly take on characteristics of speech that will be very unusual upon my return home. For example:
1. I am now trained to commence every conversation with a "How are you?" and to answer reflexively "I am fine." I am thrown for a loop if this is not how a conversation starts and it takes me a little while to regain my footing.
2. I repeat words a lot. For example: "Do it fast fast" "yes yes yes" "thank you thank you" etc. My host dad and the headmaster at Chimwemwe do this and I presume that that is where I picked it up.
3. "staying within" (not going far), "this side" (here), "that side" (there) - I think I've commented on these before
4. "I am asking for a..." I have only done this a few times now but it is a slippery slope. Instead of saying "May I please have a..." people use "I am asking for a..." I thought that that was really strange at first, but I find myself doing it occasionally.
5. I am getting better at speaking really slowly - especially in class. That took some work.
6. When doing internet lessons I would be spelling out a website address and when I side "o, r, g" I found that students were hearing "o, i, g". So I've adapted the pronounciation of r to more like "ara".
7. I've picked up a little bit of an accent sometimes, especially when speaking with Zambians. Fortunately, I still have some skills to turn it on and off, but these gradually are fading little by little.
So there you have it. Just think, I still have five more months to lose all sense of what Canadian English is about.
1. I am now trained to commence every conversation with a "How are you?" and to answer reflexively "I am fine." I am thrown for a loop if this is not how a conversation starts and it takes me a little while to regain my footing.
2. I repeat words a lot. For example: "Do it fast fast" "yes yes yes" "thank you thank you" etc. My host dad and the headmaster at Chimwemwe do this and I presume that that is where I picked it up.
3. "staying within" (not going far), "this side" (here), "that side" (there) - I think I've commented on these before
4. "I am asking for a..." I have only done this a few times now but it is a slippery slope. Instead of saying "May I please have a..." people use "I am asking for a..." I thought that that was really strange at first, but I find myself doing it occasionally.
5. I am getting better at speaking really slowly - especially in class. That took some work.
6. When doing internet lessons I would be spelling out a website address and when I side "o, r, g" I found that students were hearing "o, i, g". So I've adapted the pronounciation of r to more like "ara".
7. I've picked up a little bit of an accent sometimes, especially when speaking with Zambians. Fortunately, I still have some skills to turn it on and off, but these gradually are fading little by little.
So there you have it. Just think, I still have five more months to lose all sense of what Canadian English is about.
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