Convenience

My church in the states is doing a Lenten study called A Place at the Table. Participants are challenged to address the issues of consumerism, consumption, and over indulgence and in the process to share what we have with those in the developing world. During the week, members are asked to eat a diet similar to what someone in the less developed areas of the world would eat on a daily basis. The money saved will then be used to fund projects in these areas with a focus on access to clean water.
     I loved that my church family was doing this study and asked to be a part of it through doing the readings and providing what little insight I may have from Zambia. Today's lesson really hit home for me. It tackled convenience and boy oh boy have I learned what this word means since being in Zambia. It means having what you want when you want it in the fastest and easiest manner. In a way, it means being spoiled. I've also learned that I took convenience for granted when I was in the states. I now appreciate what this word truly means and I no longer take it for granted.
     Zambia is a wonderful place. There is a cultural richness I haven't experienced anywhere else. The care and friendliness that people show one another is astounding. The joy that comes with merely sitting with someone and chatting is unmatched - it is people-focused and laughter filled. Everyone shares what they have and offers help where they can.
     Zambia is also a country still in development. With that comes certain hindrances to convenience. Towns are typically small and filled with tiny, family run shops with a few chains present. And while grocery stores in Lusaka and Livingstone are fairly well stocked, that same store in my town and others like it probably aren't. It may be out of cheese, fruit and/or vegetables, spices, meat, coffee, or ice cream for months. I haven't seen granola (my favorite breakfast food in my grocery store for a year.) You never know what will be available when you make your monthly or bi-weekly trip to town. It can be rather frustrating, and inconvenient, when, on one of these rare trips, there are no apples or carrots or powdered milk. But even in this I am spoiled, a privileged shopper because I can afford to shop at a Spar or Shoprite (the local grocery store chains). So, even though I may be upset when Spar has no cheese, to put things in perspective, the majority of Zambians I know have never tasted cheese.
     When I first arrived in my village, it was fun to duck into the little shops looking for what I needed or just to explore. With time and the unique sport of catching public transport to get to my nearest town though, sometimes I just wanted a one-stop shopping center. In America there are stores where you can buy everything you need from groceries to clothes to auto parts. Chances are you can even walk into a more specialized store, like Home Depot, and still find everything you need for your weekend construction project. I mention this because recently I co-facilitated an Appropriate Technology workshop and must have visited a dozen different shops tucked away all around town to find all of the materials that were needed.
    There are do many other "convenient " things I could talk about that we take for granted in the states - paved roads, cell phone plans, hobbies - but I think the point is clear. We really do take convenience for granted.
     Zambia has given me a new appreciation for what convenience is. Next time I walk into a Home Depot, Food Lion, or Target I will think how amazing it is that I don't have to visit 12 more stores before I'm finished with my shopping. Hopefully being here also makes me a more conscientious consumer and reminds me that for some families convenience means having to shell peanuts you harvested from your own field so you can eat dinner tonight.

Fields of Gold

I don’t normally do this but I was so impressed by the size of these fields and the amount of labor involved in maintaining them that I’m posting a picture. It’s not that I’m against pictures or anything but they always throw off the text by ruining the alignment and it also takes a lot of time to upload a picture.

This is one of my host Mom’s groundnut (nyemu in Tonga) fields (and this is my Mom!). She has multiple fields, larger than the one depicted, about a 30-45 minute walk from the house. She proudly gave me a tour of this field a few weeks ago and I can’t even describe how much respect I have for Zambians.

This field may not look huge. Coming from Indiana, where the fields stretch as far as the eye can see. But, when you begin to think about how the fields are prepared, planted and maintained, who wouldn’t be impressed and astonished? Preparation and the first weeding is done (in Southern) using oxen to plow and cultivate. This process typically takes a few weeks. After that, it’s all manpower. Everyday from now until April, farmers will  spend in their fields, hoeing row after row of weeds. They’ll also continue planting things like sweet potatoes until mid-March

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Now, take another look at the photo. Imagine having about 5 more fields this size or larger that you manage and maintain using only your hoe and the strength of your back and arms. It’s incredible.

I was also impressed by the diversity in my Mom’s field. Interspersed with the groundnuts are a few rows of sweet potatoes, sprinkled here and there are squash plants and okra.  My Mom has a right to be proud. She’s dedicated a lot of time and energy to her fields. The process of planting a field doesn’t begin and end merely with the planting of a few seeds. It is a process that takes an entire year and many, many steps. From harvesting to drying to storing seeds to preparing fields, planting and weeding it is something that can be seen in daily life throughout the year. I’m starting to realize that I can learn a lot from my community. Things like dedication and hard work, about building your life on the land. I thought I was placed here to teach people improved methods of agriculture. What I’ve experienced and learned is that instead, I am the one learning techniques that I hope to bring back to America and improve my home garden and fields.

The Cycle of Peace Corps

            During training, PC covers what they term “The Cycle of Vulnerability and Adjustment.” There are graphs and tables to help you chart the various cycles throughout your service. I shrugged it off and chased my own thoughts down the rabbit hole when the topic was presented on numerous powerpoint slides. Yeah, training was difficult but I thought everything would be great once I got to my village. I’d be on my own schedule, teaching people, integrating into the community, learning the language (piece of cake!), and sailing through my 27 months of service on gleeful wings of rainbow joy. Or so I thought.

            Recently, I dug up those handouts on the cycle of vulnerability. And, you know what? It’s pretty spot on. I'm in my 12^th month of service, labelled “Acceptance.” This is when your mid-service crisis strikes. You are struggling to fit in, reflecting on your failures, becoming withdrawn and disappointed, attempting to overcome loneliness, and becoming lackadaisical in the pursuit of work.

            Reflecting on this, I’d say PC is pretty close to the mark. Lately, I’ve definitely been struggling with being here, with feelings of ineffectiveness and uselessness in my village. Almost like I’m merely existing here and not being a productive, contributing member of society. I don’t have a lot of contact with other volunteers so looking at graphs and tables reassures me that others are experiencing this same thing (PC had to acquire these statistics and information somewhere, right?) Even if I feel like I’m a terrible volunteer and that I’ll never accomplish anything during my service, at least I’m not alone in these feelings and thoughts.

            The life of a PCV isn’t easy. It’s really tough. We struggle with keeping our spirits up when, for the tenth time in a week we’ve been told we don’t know Tonga/Bemba/Nyanja/other random African language or that we don’t visit our neighbor/headman/school/village that’s 20 kilometers away enough.

            But, looking back at the graph, it suggest that PCVs will begin to feel normal between months 11-15 and that the pace at which projects occur will increase. And for every forced smile in response to not sweeping your yard correctly there are twice that many genuine smiles. So, since PC has seemed to be right on target for each stage of the vulnerability cycle, I’ll trust that they’re right about the whole normality feeling kicking in soon and ride out the storm of my mid-service crisis knowing that it happens to everyone. Even those who though their wings would always be dry and lifted towards the skies.

Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World)

           Internationally, women in many countries do not experience the same freedoms and liberties as women in the United States do. In some instances, women still can’t own land, ask a man on a date, control household money, or decide when they want to marry and start a family. In Southern Province, the land of the Tonga’s, many women is even 2^nd, 3^rd, or 4^th wives. It is common to be told by a man upon the first meeting that he loves you, wants to marry you, or wants you to give him a child. Men are expected to pay a dowry to be allowed to marry. If this isn’t paid in full even after marriage, a woman will be told to return to her parents until it is covered. Many times during conversations where I’m explaining about Peace Corps and the work of the organization and my project and that I’m here alone, people exclaim, “And your husband gave you permission?!”

            As a way to empower and encourage respect of women, PCVs around the world host Camp G.L.O.W (Girls Leading Our World). GLOW is an attempt to instill a sense of self-worth in young girls, to encourage them to respect themselves and their bodies, and teach life skills.  We do this through organizing something like a summer camp for girls between the ages of 11-15 and inviting community counterparts to attend sessions as well.

            In December 2013, volunteers in Southern Province sponsored a camp. For one week we dedicated our time to mentoring 16 girls and 8 counterparts. We covered topics such as self-esteem by providing profiles of successful women like Oprah and Joyce Banda, the president of Malawi. Girls wrote positive things about themselves on flower petals and pasted them in journals that they were encouraged to write in so that they could be reminded of the good characteristics and qualities they possess. The girls also learned about budgeting, healthy ways to respond to peer pressure, healthy relationships, and sexual health. They participated in arts and crafts such as making friendship bracelets as well as doing team-building activities.

            Through programs like GLOW, volunteers touch the lives of young women in their communities. They’re exposing them to ideas and topics that are often avoided because they’re uncomfortable. They’re attempting to raise the next generation of young women into confident, self-respecting teens and adults. In my mind, children are the real way that change is going to happen. Whether it’s worldwide or in a small African village, children are the key to change, development, and to a country that is filled with strong, independent, and creative individuals. It also brings about the topic of the importance of women in society and can lead to mutual respect between genders and within communities and households. A girl who has expectations, confidence, and knows how she wants to be perceived and function within a community can be a strong driving force behind change and development. Lets support our girls as they navigate the obstacle course that is teendom and encourage a sense of pride in being a woman!

The Camp GLOW Song by Amanda Eilefson

Girls are strong

Girls are smart

Girls have big hearts

Oh yeah!

Girls leading our world

Girls leading our world

Two Americans Final Account of Rafting the Zambezi

Over the holidays I had a visitor from the states! Over the course of their stay we went to a few local markets, ate at some tasty restaurants in Lusaka, stayed in my village for Christmas, and went to Zambia's number one tourist destination, Livingstone. While everything we did was pretty fun and definitely a new experience for Ryan, the most outrageous and crazy thing we did was white water rafting on the Zambezi River. I've had numerous volunteers say it is one of the best things they've done in Zambia. Perhaps for those adrenaline junkies, this was an awesome experience. For me and Ryan it was slightly (really?) terrifying and we were glad 1) we only went for half a day and 2) when it was over. Before even signing up I was hesitant. I’ve been rafting once in the states and really enjoyed it but water isn’t my favorite element and I don’t find digging a paddle into foaming, raging water and hanging onto a raft for dear life very relaxing. Ryan is slightly more experienced than me when it comes to white water rafting and was really looking forward to it so it became our one big splurge during his visit.

Rafting on the Zambezi River is considered to be the best one-day white water rafting trips in the world (http://www.zambezi.com/content/white_water_rafting_the_zambezi_river).I didn't know this at the time or else I never would have done it. But ignorance can be a great enabler.

Now most of the time when you go rafting the guides tell you there is a chance you might end up in the water due to your raft flipping or you falling out because of a large wave. A chance, let me stress this, a chance that if your group can’t synchronize or you hit a rapid wrong you might end up in some rough water. When we arrived at the office we were told that we would definitely end up in the water. After being outfitted with helmets and huge life vests we headed to Victoria Falls National Park to begin our half day adventure.

Boiling Pot, just below Victoria Falls, was a churning, raging mess of water. The rafting company was throwing us right into it from the beginning as Boiling Pot is a class 4/5 rapid (classes range from 1 to 6 , 6 being un-runnable). Steeling myself for the worst, I climbed into my raft with the guide, Enoch, Ryan, a family from San Francisco, and a couple from Australia. Let the fun times begin.

With the first attempt at Boiling Pot, everyone except Enoch, me, and the daughter of the SF couple, ended up in the river. The next attempt found Ryan in the water with a dislocated knee (luckily it popped back in by itself but that didn’t really mean it was completely pain-free and hunky dory). At times, throughout the course of the next 8 rapids (we skipped #9 as the water was to rough and high) all we could do was duck down in the raft and hold on for dear life so as not to be thrown into the rapids. Our crew made it through almost all of the rapids without any mishaps, even the one where there was a 5-8 meter drop, until we hit rapid #7, Gulliver’s Travels. Our entire raft flipped, tossing everyone into the river. There’s never been any point in my life where I thought I was close to death but when I ended up in the Zambezi on this rapid I truly thought I was going to drown. All I could do was hold on to the rope that was attached to the raft and fight as best I could from being dragged under the water. Sometimes I’d end up under the raft. At other times I was being dragged like a ragdoll alongside of it. Even when the raft threw me against some rocks I couldn’t do anything but hold on. Letting go for me was unthinkable as I thought I would surely be a goner. When I finally surfaced in slightly calmer water, I was hyperventilating (perhaps having a panic attack?), trying to catch my breath. The guide must have realized I was starting to panic because he dragged me onto the raft and told me to hold on (nope, we weren’t done with Gulliver’s Travels yet). I thought I was scared during my time in the water when we finally reached a calm patch, Ryan was not in the raft. I couldn’t spot him anywhere. With no idea where he was or if he was okay, I tried reining in my panic and questions and stop myself from thinking I was going to see a body floating in the pool where things like paddles were accumulating. After the next rapid our crew regrouped and Ryan was re-united with our small watercraft.

For the last 2 rapids we stayed in the raft and finished the trip with a sigh of relief, happy to be back on solid ground. Although we had quite a trek out of the Batoka Gorge, it was good to be off of the water. While this gave Ryan and I a good story to awe friends and relatives with, we both agreed to never do such a thing again. At least we also signed up for the sunset cruise.

Goats Play Marco Polo

   Does everyone remember the  common kids game, Marco Polo? One kid is "it," closes their eyes, and blindly tries to find the other kids by following their voice as they respond to "Polo!" to his "Marco!" My brothers and I use to play in the swimming pools of the apartment complexes we lived in or in hotels.
   Did you know that goats also play Marco Polo? In the past 9 months I've had ample time to observe goat behavior. The one thing I've noticed most often is that all goats at some point throughout their day of grazing and moving about also make time to play Marco Polo. This is usually accompanied by the participating goats running hither and thither in response to the answers they get from their bleating "Marco!" Mad dashes one way turn into sprints in another direction in a fraction of a second.
   My favorite Marco Polo game to watch is when nanny's and kids play. It goes something like this:
          Kid: "Mom..."
          Nanny: "Maaa...."
          Kid: "Mooooommmmm...."
          Nanny: "Mmmaaaaaaaaaaa."
          Kid: "MMMMOOOOOOOMMMMMM!"
          Nanny: "Maaaa! Maaaa! Maaaaa!"
It continues until the game ends with the two happily reunited.
   I think goats cheat though as they keep their eyes open while they play. They may be in a larger area than a pool but if I ever peeked during a game of Marco Polo, my brothers were quick  to shout, "No cheating!" I guess I'll cut my four-legged forms of entertainment some slack though as it seems like acceptable behavior to all of the other goats and no one ever gets upset over this slight change of rules.

Being Brave

    I can't count how many Americans and Zambians have told me how brave I am for becoming a Peace Corps Volunteer, moving to a remote African village on an often misunderstood continent, dedicating 2 years of my life to a people in a place far from my home. In truth, I don't feel brave. Most of the time I lock myself inside my hut as soon as it gets dark because I'm afraid of meeting my cobra neighbors.
   Maybe PCVs don't realize they possess an uncommon courage no present in others. What we do, while out of the ordinary, doesn't seem strange or selective. Perhaps we have gene DRD4-7R that is linked to restlessness and curiosity in 20% of the population (http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2013/01/125-restless-genes/dobbs-text). We don't see ourselves as unique or brave, though I think every volunteer would admit that the experience certainly is.
   Maybe there is something within us that provides a sense of longing for experiencing the unknown or something new and novel. Certainly my friends in the states never understood my desire to hop trains of free-dive with great white sharks. I'm sure they were even more confused when my reasons for deciding not to do these things had more to do with the fact that trains really are quite noisy and I get mini panic attacks when trying to breath through a snorkel and not with the dangers inherent in such acts as train hopping and diving with sharks.
   So, when people tell me how brave I am, I am always at a loss for words, puzzled by what leads them to say such things. While PC is not for everyone, I'm a firm believer that anyone can be brave and achieve amazing feats. You don't have to live in a hidden corner of the earth to be courageous. Courage is within all of us and bravery is when we rise to meet the challenges that await us. So I say cheers to everyone because while you may think I'm brave, I think you are equally so.