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.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
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.
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