Who knows what development means? Please raise your hand.

      Before volunteering in Peace Corps, I had no idea what international development work entailed. It is an abstract idea that I couldn't explain to my friends, family, or even myself although I regurgitated the description of the project to those who were curious. After seven months in country, I'm still no expert on development but I have a much better idea of what sustainable development means and how to go about achieving it. I may even be able to explain it to you now!
     In America, we don't often think of what development is or how to go about achieving it. It so inherent in our culture. America already has the foundation for industry, markets, education. We merely expand upon the structure that is already present, which in one way is a hindrance as it makes starting new businesses and developing new ideas more difficult. But, how do you build something that doesn't exist yet especially when you're coming from a country where the idea is already established, the infrastructure already built...meaning, you haven't the vaguest idea of how to begin. This is one reason I struggled with the idea and definition of development before completing Peace Corps training and living in my village. I've never developed anything. At least, not in the sense that development workers do.
     Recently, the LIFE 2013 Peace Corps volunteers attended technical training and a Project Design and Management Workshop. During this time, my definition and understanding of development and what it means, especially in a rural setting, was solidified. The training and workshop helped me define my goal for Peace Corps service. While most volunteers spearhead a large project during their time in-country, something that will be recognized and appreciated by Peace Corps and the community in which the volunteer lived and worked even after they're gone, I wonder how sustainable the project is. Most projects are ideas generated by the volunteer to meet a need they have observed in the village. This makes the motivation and drive for the project directly connected to the volunteer and their presence. While the community may be involved in the construction of whatever the PCV may have in mind, it isn't owned by them. What do I mean when I say that a project is "owned" by the community? To me, it means that the members of the community have identified  a need in their area and agreed to address it, they are passionate about improving their village in the way they see fit, they have the motivation and dedication to see the project begin and continue with it until its' completion. They have a sense of ownership over the idea, they see a benefit in remaining steadfast and moving forward, and they can take pride in the outcome. It will be something they want to protect and showcase.
     Oftentimes volunteers want to see observable, tangible changes in their villages within the 2 years they serve. They want to know that they created something and didn't dedicate years of their life in a foreign country with no end result. While the projects typically do benefit a community, I wonder how much the community learned about developing itself, about relying on the skills, talents, and ideas of its' people. It's wonderful to see motivated and enthusiastic volunteers bringing change to their communities and even if the projects don't survive, the village still remembers their volunteer thus achieving the second goal of Peace Corps (promoting a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served). But, what I've learned during the 7 months I've been here is what I truly want for my village. I want to empower them, to teach them how to build the things they want, how to bring about development to their rural community long after I've gone. I want to teach them what I know about capacity building, about community development, identifying projects, and defining goals and then how to achieve them. I want them to be able to do what I do and have the knowledge I have. Perhaps I'll never have a remembrance, a memento commemorating my time here, but if one person learns that they themselves are a powerful force for change and have the tools they need to make those changes occur, then I'll be happy to be merely Milimo, the first PCV in Nalube.

Voyage of the Mini S.S. Minnow

Lake Tanganyika - the second deepest lake in the world and the most biologically diverse. This is where I’m spending my post IST (In-service Training) vacation. Mpulungu, only port town in Zambia, is much like other Zambian towns. Small shops line the main road selling a variety of goods and necessities like biscuits (cookies) or shampoo. There’s a market near the water that is packed with people, the shore lined with boats, and smelling of fish and salt.

                Excited to get out on the lake and in the water, the group of PCVs that made the trek up north from Lusaka rented some boats with the intention of rowing out to a nearby island. I climbed into the boat that looked more reliable, meaning the bottom wasn’t filled with water. I should have known when they only wanted 3 muzungu’s in the boat and 5 in the other that I’d probably chosen the wrong one. As the Zambian crew, one man in the bow and one in the stern, pushed off from shore with their apprehensive flock of PCVs, I was certain we were going to capsize at any moment dumping me and all of my precious electronics into Lake Tang. As water began pouring into the boat from the seams in the boards, patchily plugged with bits and pieces of chitenge, I began to think we may also sink. I’ve been jumping off boats and docks in the Midwest all of my life and can hold my own in the water so aside from possibly  ruining my camera/ipod/phone by accidentally ending up in the lake, I wasn’t too concerned…until we spotted a crocodile. Yep, a crocodile. I’d heard rumors of crocs in the lake but thought they would be a rare sight and not encountered on this little adventure.  Now the stream of thoughts in my head have quickly been consumed by, “capsize, sink, Lake Placid, capsizing sinking crocodiles crocodilescrocodilescrocodilescrocodilescrococrocscroc…”

                All ends well though as the boat neither capsized nor sunk, the crocodile did not pursue and attempt to eat us, and we arrived at the island. We spent a blissful hour dangling our feet in the greenish-blue water and gazing out over one of the most beautiful and least visited areas of Zambia. 

Sweeping the Yard

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  It's a chore in Zambia that all the women do, normally each morning. The "yards" are typically just bare soil/sand so, to integrate into the community & participate in a piece of Zambian culture, I too sweep my yard.  There can be no wind but the minute I begin, huge gusts will pop up & continue throughout my sweeping endeavor.  Add to that the hard, cold fact that no matter which direction the wind is blowing, when I adjust my position so I am sweeping the dust clouds away from me, the wind changed & all the dust comes right back in my face.  Without fail this happens. Sometimes I swear the wind is even going all directions at once, engulfing me in a dust cyclone & coating me from head to foot in dirt.  Add this to the fact that I'm also sweating & it's a guarantee that I'm now filthy, and this is how I start the day (about twice a week as I'm really very lazy.)  The most annoying thing though, more than wind or being covered in small soil particles, is when I've finished the task, feeling very accomplished (yah me! I've just swept an area the size of a hotel pool with a broom made of twigs)... and a chicken walks through my yard.  I'm going to be eating chicken tonight!
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  12:10


• Wednesday

They Call Me Milimo

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  That's what the Zambians in Nalube village affectionately call me. Milimo, meaning "work" in Tonga. They expect a lot which is exciting because it means they are motivated, enthusiastic, curious, & eager to learn what they can from me & future volunteers. The week has been full of visits - to people's homes where they insist you take some sweet potatoes or groundnuts home, to the clinic to say hello, or to the market to buy phone minutes or coffee (sadly, unavailable in the village). I often here people call "Milimo" while out walking the fields or bush paths. It is friendly & familiar. So, when i return home, don't be surprised if I've forgotten my given American name & instead tell you to call me Milimo - my affectionate rememberance to the people of Nalube.

Cultural Day, Swear-in, and Southern Province!

Within the last week I have passed all my exams, finished training, bid farewell to my host family, took the oath to become a Peace Corps Volunteer (which I am fairly certain is the same oath that military members take), gotten lost in Lusaka, traveled to Southern Province (SoPro), and gotten most of my house shopping done for posting (when I get dropped at my village!). 

What do you get when you have 22 PCTs camping out a day before graduating?  A very hectic morning (don't worry, I know my jokes aren't humorous but they make someone smile anyway...Mom at least)!  In preparation for cultural day the PCTs had to cook and bake food for 100 people (our host families and village and PC officials as well as the chief).  There was dancing that everyone participated in - even if we weren't prepared ::cough cough::  (me, I wasn't prepared but if I  had known I would have to dance around and sing in front of my family and 100 people I would have practiced so as not to be as embarrassed).  There was an exchange of gifts and then farewells.  It was back to The Barn Motel thereafter, but not until our bus broke down - radiator trouble.  We eventually made it after the PCTs valiantly sacrificed their water for the cause.

Two days later, we became official Peace Corps Volunteers - basically a graduation for us.  It was held at the ambassador's house and consisted of a light breakfast, swear-in, and a light lunch of samosas.  This was the last night for all of the PCVs to be together after 12 weeks of seeing each other every day, supporting each other through sickness and aggravation, and just being in our protective American bubble with people that share our culture and are experiencing the same roller-coaster that is Peace Corps service.

So now, I am at the Provincial House (Peace Corps house) in SoPro waiting to be posted.  Has been nice to relax, read, eat familiar food, and take showers.  I am excited to be at my site, though.  Being stuck in a something like Limbo since being in country has been stressful and I am ready to be somewhere on a semi-permanent basis (2 years if fairly permanent I suppose).  Building relationships with the Zambians in my village, gaining development experience, and basically constructing a life in the African bush has been a long time in coming.  Hopefully posting will be Wednesday (when I get Napoleon, my cat!)!  Then it is 3 months of isolation in my village! 

New Address

Nicole will be moving around the 1st of May to her new site and she will have a new address, you can start sending her mail to the new address now.

Nicole Parker
PCV Zambia
P.O. Box 630569
Choma, Zambia

In the last letter I received from her she said to post this in her blog.

It's about 4pm, or in Zambia 1600 because they are on military/24 hr time.  I'm sitting in my customary place.  If you find a picture of the house on FB (it's the long one with the weird wooden structure, which is used for storing corn, in front of it)  I sit on the left side of the door when facing the house.  It's shaded for most of the day and gets a nice breeze. Bamaama normally sets up the brazier on the opposite side of the door & takes up residence.  Right now she's making fritters, I think.  We frequently chase chickens out of the house as the door is typically left open & they just wander in.  Okay, it's not fritters... I've no idea.  Don't think she's made it for me before.  This is the picture of Zambia that I want.  A candid shot of Bamaama looking, moving coals about, measureing out oil, and little bro sitting on the stoop licking the bowl the held the batter.  No matter where you go, some things are the same .  Giving the cookie bowl to a child, preparing dinner for the family.  The difference is in the way we do all of the daily activities.  For Americans it takes only a few hours or minutes each day to prepare and eat our meals or go to the store.  For Zambians it's an all day process.  Things like a trips to the store are a planned, all day affair.  Cooking is endless.  Providing breakfast, lunch, and dinner is what occupies most of the day.  With things like laundry, pulling weeds, and sweeping thrown in.  I think she's making bread...or a cake.  Still not sure but she's put a lid on the pot & placed coals on top and underneath it.  It will be a surprise