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.
Monday, May 14, 2007
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.
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