After two years of cooking over charcoal on a brazier the size of a frying pan, it is glorious to have a kitchen. The refrigerator is apartment size, but enables us to buy and eat meat. We opted to continue to drink room temperature water so that we could shop for fresh foods once per week only. The stove/oven resembles a microwave oven in size and having the door open the oven. The 2 burner stove is directly on top of the oven. The unit sits on a small table which I brought down from my hut in the village. I was so disappointed when I discovered that only one of the burners worked. I was really looking forward to expanding my cooking beyond one-pot meals so I bought a two burner hot plate and am happy. The oven bakes pretty hot so is ideal for homemade bread. To my great relief, my cake pans fit inside. It probably uses less electricity than a big oven. Then the whole unit shorted out and we had to buy a replacement last Saturday. Maybe it was worn out from all the baking I have been doing, including bread. So now I am baking and cooking on a brand new unit.

At work I have been revising the Peace Corps cookbook called "Where There Is No Take-Away". It has been great to add tips and correct recipes. Last night I baked the corrected brownies recipe and it received approval from my official taste-tester and roommate.

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The apartment has a meter to measure the units of electricity that we have to pre-pay and then load. Next week we will walk over to the nuclear plant owner and plunk money down for another 45 units.

We lost electricity last Friday night, so went to bed early and read by candlelight. We just went into the village mode. However, through my window I noticed that the apartments across the courtyard all had lights. Next morning I checked with a neighbor who was watching TV. Her husband came down and immediately located the problem as a tripped fuse switch on our meter. Like any new resident, we have to learn these things.

Yes, you are seeing correctly: Lusaka has it's very own nuclear reactor located in the center of town. Thankfully, the power company no longer uses it but relies on hydroelectric sources instead. The edge of the building you see in the right side of the photo is a brand new shopping mall. Nice backdrop! I have used the tower to fix my location while navigating the new city since it is not far from where I live and visible from afar!

Every weekend, my roommate, Laura and I have explored the town by foot (of course). We just get on Cairo Rd and ask people where something is located. Not only are the pedestrians happy to stop and tell us, they often want to walk and show us. I love Zambians.

One of our first outings was to the local market of Kumwala. It was a maze of shacks with mud streets. The Saturday we went, it had just rained and every path was flooded. There is very little drainage in the city and it rains hard here so Lusaka streets flood regularly. Anyway, back at the market, the word "plague" came to mind and we couldn't wait to get out of there as we clung to the high ground. I have since gone back when it was dry and explored. We bought linoleum flooring, Christmas decorations, sewing supplies, dry fish for catfood, and "Cheeky Chili" which were so much more available there than in the supermarkets.

I have had three occasions where a stranger has touched my skin in passing like they were just checking out what I was made of. That surprised me because I had never experienced that in the rural areas where I might have expected to be the oddity. Very recently, I lost my wallet on Cairo road. Peace Corps security officer took me to the police station to make a report and then to the bank to get a new bank card. The next day I got a call from Peace Corps that a stranger had driven over there to return the card and ID papers. Somehow the wallet and cash went missing (surprise! but the important stuff was returned across town.

I spent two afternoons tracking down the store that supplies satellite TV. I had planned to subscribe over the holidays if it was affordable. It isn't. I was told that our TV was ready for the service but it wasn't. The converter box needs to be upgraded and the channels we wanted to watch were of course only in the most expensive package. So now we are watching movies that Laura has on her computer's hard drive. I still get a thrill over having electricity 24-7.

We have continued to have a good experience living in our 3 story apartment building which faces an identical building, separated by front lawns and sidewalk. The children make happy noises on the front yard all day long. The ice cream man peddles his bicycle freezer daily up the sidewalk ringing a cow bell. There were 3 weeks of fireworks which was annoying but it stopped at a reasonable hour at night. We learned more about the history of the buildings, too. They were built by the African National Foundation (ANF) for anti-apartheid South Africans to work from. This explains why my 84 year old landlady is a South African Chieftainess (Zulu) and why our front door reads African Heritage House. Because of the dangers of becoming targets of violence, names of ownership or occupancy were never written down so most people stayed rent-free and ownership disputes had to go to court on a case-by-case basis. The original occupants knew one another and had lawn parties on Friday nights. The flats have since been rented to strangers such as Peace Corps. (smiley) We are having some difficulties with bill payment. I moved in on Dec 2nd but Peace Corps couldn't pay until the 26rd so I scraped together half of the quarter's rent because I wanted to move in right away. I paid the remainder on Dec. 26th. The landlady was not happy to say the least. On the 30th we got a 2 day shut-off notice for our water. I had given the landlady the money already so I sent the bill to her and talked by phone. On the 30th she left a rose bouquet and cake inside our apartment with a card. Two days later, our water was shut off so I paid it and sent her a text because she was planning a holiday visit to South Africa. Luckily they reconnected the water the same day so nothing was lost but an extra K100,000 and time off of work. Other than those issues which hopefully we can sort out by the next payment due, we love the furniture, kitchen, bath, etc and wouldn't think of moving. Cleopatra, our African Queen Cat came to live with us toward the end of December. By that time, we had all the mosquito screens on the windows so she could be an indoor cat for a week of acclimatization. She was calm and happy from the start. Luckily her real owner had her fixed so I don't have to do the kitten routine. The cockroach population has also receded partly due to her, I think, and the other part to cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. We know they can always run back and forth between apartments so will probably never be totally rid of them.

Now that I live in Lusaka I am expecting--and getting--a lot of Peace Corps Volunteer visitors. So is Laura. Hers are from Eastern Province and mine from Northern so we are becoming acquainted with a lot of new folks. Some are passing through for vacation. Others actually want to visit. On Jan 2 I had 4 camped out in the living room (tent, couch and floor) and one on the spare bed in my room. They were happy to have a free bed for the night. They are expected to help with food and drink but that is all. I kind of like cooking still. I made cakes, cookies, biscotti and bread in the little oven. The volunteers are so appreciative of anything. They are low maintenance visitors.

On January 1, Barb and I went to Munda Wanga, the animal sanctuary in Lusaka. These are rescued animals who are eventually turned back into the wild. Can you see the Cheetah under the sign?

It was an inexpensive way for two volunteers to get up close and personal with the animals who live in Zambia. Since I didn't get to see Zebras or Lions on the safari in Chobe National Park, I was very happy to get the snaps of these beautiful animals, albeit behind wire fences.

The Zebra who was MIA at Chobe Safari

Of course the Warthog, aka PUMBA, delighted us.

The camels were a surprise but they were rescued. Someone tried to introduce them as work animals but the Zambians did not take to them. As you may already know, they are very useful in Sahara region of Africa. Just shows you how large and varied the continent is.

Where ARE we? What is this greenery?

Then we came upon this poor tortoise on his back with his soft side under the hot African sun and watched to see if he could right himself. After observing another turtoise (sibling?) give him wide berth while passing him, I thought WWZD (What would a Zambian Do?) So I went looking for and found a long bamboo pole to reach him over the barrier and flip him upright.

Rescued tortoise. Can you see the mud on his shell?He stayed withdrawn for only seconds before taking off to Mama Tortoise who was sunning herself on a nearby rock. You can actually see clumps of mud on his back from his struggles. I tried to upload a video of his attempts but it is too large a file for our system.

Sun bather

Then we proceeded to the cafeteria and botanical gardens which are also housed in Munda Wanga.

The first thing we checked on upon arrival at Munda Wanga was the availability of eating crocodile for lunch only to be told that they sold out the day before. When we came back to order later, we learned that there was ONE crocodile steak. Hopefully, it wasn't one of the rescued crocs we had just visited.

Sibling Rough housing

Along with 100 other pedestrians, I walk 5 blocks in the industrial area to get to work on Lusaka's busiest street-Lumumba Rd (which only sounds like a dance but is really a slow crawl). Luckily I don't have to cross it cuz that is done on the run.

Here is Beatrice, my main boss. Even she uses her personal laptop at work. She found the apartment and hired me and told me that I will work in all departments.

This is the doorway to my office which I share with Gladys. Last Friday, we were told to take the whole week off while the managers (like Beatrice) had a retreat but I didn't make any plans so am coming to work anyway. You can tell by this posting how hard-working I am. Here I have free internet.

Our buildings include the warehouse where my office is to the left in the picture below. Trucks can drive in through the garage door. Luckily for our lungs, that has only happened once since I started working here.

Next picture is the front wall mural outside our office. The major focus this year will be the nutrition of the fetus and child until age 2--aptly called First 1000 Days Campaign. This will include maternal nutrition during pregnancy and breastfeeding. I am really glad we are addressing these critical first 1000 days. Zambia has 48% stunting rate which is irreversible and impacts the child's learning capacity for life.

I have been assigned the task of writing the nutrition guidelines starting with General Nutrition.

This is an attempt to explain the concept of extending service after the basic 2 years of Peace Corps. And then I will answer your questions as to What I am now doing?

Extension is an additional one year (13 months including one month of mandatory home leave--like that adjective is needed) of service in Peace Corps. The volunteer needs to apply to the country where he/she is serving and be approved based on track record and country budget.

Once approved, the PCV finds her own job possiblitities: she can extend in her own village or another location in the country. That involves interviewing with the organization. Then Peace Corps sees if they can write an agreement with that org: who pays for what. Generally the org pays for housing and Peace Corps continues to give the monthly stipend, insurance and plane ticket.

In my case, I knew I had an additional year to kill before I qualified for Medicare but I kept my mouth shut until a year into my service. I applied to PC and was accepted with 3 references. I wanted to work in my own field of nutrition rather than general health. It wasn't hard to find something because every organization has a nutrition component and I had done some work for AfriCare and partnered with World Vision, etc. But my Coordinator advised me to go to the National Food and Nutrition Commission. I stopped in the office to make an appointment for an interview, talked with the Deputy and Director and they expressed interest in me from the get-go.

I was very excited because this is an "autonomous" policy-making division of the National Health Department. They work with EVERYBODY in the country--other branches of the government like Agriculture and most Non-Governmental Organizations (NGO). It also was my comfort zone to stay in government.

Here is their website link on the blog if you are interested to see more details. www.nfnc.org.zm

I helped them write my job description since they hadn't had a Peace Corps Volunteer before. That was fun. Anyway, when I showed up, they said they needed me to write the nutrition guidelines for Maternal Nutrition, Child Nutrition, PD Hearth (done!!), HIV positive people, and Micronutrients. Well, after my home leave of 6 weeks and some time off to settle the housing issues, I really only have 9 months of work to accomplish this. The first week on the job I attended two workshops which they were sponsoring--one for the radio communications personnel and the other for the Iodine Deficiency Taskforce strategic plan. After a week of meetings I was ready to get to work so I picked Iodine as my litmus paper. The 8-5 day was hard to get back into. It took two weeks to do the on-line research and historical review of Zambia's salt fortification program. Now I submitted the paper to my two bosses and the point person on the Iodine committee. We'll see how it goes. The internet connection has been the only drawback: it keeps cutting out during search or download or attaching. My co-workers are very welcoming--no surprise there. They are so hard-working. On Monday I found that several had worked all Saturday to finish a report. Meanwhile, we sponsored and open-house for our new apartment. Hopefully I won't be pulled in on the weekends or to go to too many more workshops unless I am presenting (HA!HA!) I don't do windows, either. Hhmm. I sound like a retiree! I am going to shoot for a paper a month and then spend the rest of the time getting feedback and revising.

While many readers are located in the northern hemisphere and celebrating the winter holiday season with snow and cold, I just want to remind you that is rainy season--the Zambian summer--here in southern Africa. Everything is green and growing. For me, mushrooms typify the spontaneity of the earth during rainy season. They just pop up in the middle of nowhere or the middle of everywhere--like my yard. They are brown or white, big or little. These from the side of the road were polka dotted.

We see them the size of an umbrella or so small that it takes hours to cut and clean. They can delight the palate or kill you. The season doesn't last very long so I try to buy and cook as many as I can while they are poking their heads up. My favorite is grilled with olive oil and fresh tomatoes on toast.

Celebrate mushrooms as the promise of rain!

After 6 glorious weeks of home leave with family and friends in the US and Granada I returned to Lusaka airport on an overnight flight from London.

My accommodations for the first 8 days were in a "Lodge". With nothing much to do, I designed this lamp in honor of "the Christmas Story" movie:

The apartment had just been found but Peace Corps needed me to sign the lease and pass the security check. In the meantime, I purchased the lamp for reading at night. The rain boots were a purchase in the US to prepare for the rainy season which is just starting. We call them "gum boots" here. I was surprised that they are very popular in the States right now, too.

On Monday, I started commuting to my new job with National Food and Nutrition Commission on the other side of town. I walked to the Peace Corps office every day asking for a ride. Naturally, that kept everyone focused on moving me over there--so it had the desired effect.

On Thursday I got in to see the place. Outside, the two apartment complexes reminded me of city high rise, but visitors subsequently said they are just like off campus apartments. Anyway, it is on the ground floor with bars on the windows and back porch. Being a south-sider, I will admit to being quite nervous about noise and security. The front door has lettering on it: "African Heritage House Lat 14"

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Inside the door, the foyer opens to the dining/living room and out to the narrow patio which is where we haang our laundry to dry. The patio and windows and doors all have bars on them as we are in the industrial area in a 3 storey walk-up on the ground floor. (Yikes) My south-side Chicago hackles were up when I saw it first, but .... so far it is very quiet at night.

The bathroom

Pretty bwana digs for Peace Corps!

When an American signs up to serve in an international organization--be it church, government, or private--she ususally receives training about the culture to which she is being sent. This includes more than language. Food, greetings, body posture, eye contact, gestures are all important signals. Sometimes we don´t agree with the custom, but know that we will offend our hosts if we ignore their customs. She is prepared and knows that things will be different.

After years of study and adaptation, it is time to come home. This poses a frightening prospect because now she is aware that her world view has changed. We have bought into some of the new customs and find them very useful to live by. We have lost some of our old priorities and know that our ´´old´´ family and friends don´t know what changes they will find in us. We worry if our relationships will suffer, if we will have to pretend or compromise our new values in order to fit in. The reality is that we will never be the same. No one seems to be around to teach, train, or prepare us for re entry into our old culture.

I personally experienced this reverse culture shock after spending 5 years in Papua New Guinea with my husband and 2 children. The transitions hit each of differently. My husband, an Argentine citizen who lived in India for 19 years, had experienced entering 3 different cultures, our young son and daughter only knew that of our life in PNG. I was the changed American adult coming home with a family to raise. It hit me very hard that America was so materialistic and pressurized. It seemed that our little nuclear family was buffetted by many opposing values and ideas. I longed for the simple, honest life we had lived in the bush. Why does knowing the name of every actor, movie and brand name have such great importance? I could care less. Where were the like-minded Americans?

Now I have left my family and friends behind to live for over 2 years in Zambia. Although we are very diverse, I find the Peace Corps Volunteers to have so much in common. We brag about travelling in the back of an open-air truck and how far they can bike, how we can adapt to washing in a bucket and using candles at night for light. And we all express the same anxieties about going back to America. Yes, we will love the comforts but will never take them for granted. Can we keep up the fast-pace of a lifestyle whose value we can now question.

Re entry with new eyes. It can be laughable, too. I forgot what American money looked like when I landed in Hawaii after 3 years in PNG and held out my palm to allow the cashier to take the coins she needed to pay for our drinks. I drove about 45 mph and had to get used to being behind the wheel again after years of not driving after serving in Zambia. Portion sizes and body sizes seem too large. Stores too big, choices too many, life too soft. There is the thrill of old favorite tastes and sounds--maybe no longer the favorite. The lawns are so manicured and houses so well kept and rich. People don't greet strangers and don't look at one another. Phones are more important than people. Life is fast. Americans are good people, generous, and it is nice to not be stared Well, not too much.

Here is a video of the St Paul Choir of St. Francis Church in Mpepo (my village).

Today I logged into the statistics and read that my blog has topped 7000 views. I wish to thank each of you visitors. You live in all parts of the world. Obviously there are many people who are not self-absorbed and who are interested in Peace Corps and/or Zambia. The 3rd goal of Peace Corps is to bring our host countries back home. This is why I write about what I have experienced and learned on this incredible journey.

If you are a regular visitor, you now have the option to subscribe to e-mail notifications of the blog post. This can save you time and trouble of checking for new postings.If you are new, I would like to explain that this is not a journal. The posts are topical. You can expand the side bar and click on titles of interest to you.I have one more year of active blogging. During this time I will be in the capital of Lusaka, so I will have more access to blogging but my view will be urban, not rural. Since 48% of the population lives in towns and cities, Zambia is touted as the most urbanized country of Africa. This surprised me because I stayed so rural for 2 years and hope to represent that world view in my new work. However, there will be new discoveries.....

When did the concept of theme parties start? Who invented this Halloween all year round custom? Normally we are a hard working group of volunteers in our respective villages. However, we need to come in to the Provincial resource center for supplies, computer work, and get-togethers like birthdays, American holidays, etc.

We can cook in a kitchen and eat together as "family".

The first time I was at the Provincial House when the Volunteers wanted to celebrate an occasion, they picked and announced a theme-- "ABC" Anything But Clothes Party. I imagined that everyone was going to show up naked and attended in my regular clothes (having excused myself based on unfamiliarity with the custom). But I wasn't about to miss it for the world. Thankfully, everyone came dressed in gunny sacks, plastic bags, etc. Very creative. Some a little scanty, but -Hey-if you got it, flaunt it.

Eventually I caught on. Below are some pictures from our last one to celebrate our Close of Service (COS)--Super Heroes was the theme. Some of the heroes I don't recognize because they are after my own kids were little. Only the old folks will recognize Super Woman--the sequel (without the bare midriff or speedo)

RAP/CHIP10-12Northern Province Super HeroesToasting Chip09-11As the night heats upThe dancing begins

Zambia is a land locked country but has 40% of all water in southern Africa. Rainy season lasts 6 months of the year and the plentiful rivers, waterfalls, and streams run all year round.

The common farming practices include forming beds which are elevated with trenches in between so that rain can run off easily. Most farmers only plant during rainy season so there is a time called hungry season when nothing is growing even though the weather is conducive to year-round planting

Above are Eunice and Bupe, preparing the garden for dry season planting. Below in the neighboring garden is Mr Kapandula doing the same with the help of his eldest son. Large families ensure help in the fields where manpower is all these small scale farmers use. Their only tools are axes and a hoe.

Because these two industrious farmers plant during dry season, their gardens are located along a stream. Every two days they must bucket up water from the stream and deliver it to the garden beds which have a small ridge to hold the water inside. Eunice told me that it takes 8 buckets per bed. She starts out at 5 am daily so she can be at work by 9 am.

Being very good, hard-working small-scale farmers, they manage to grow maize, tomatoes, greens, onions, cassava, millet, beans, cabbages, okra, soyabeans. They fertilize and use pesticides.

In the picture above, the Headwoman of Mukaka Village and her sister are working in the Chief's garden--the duty of all faithful citizens in the chiefdom. Below you see Mrs Kapandula harvesting the greens and washing them in the trench to take to market for sale.

Below is Eunice's daughter harvesting and taking the produce to the market. All these people pictured are HIV positive. They inspired me to write a grant to obtain irrigation pumps to carry the water from the stream to the garden beds. We submitted the grant to PEPFAR (the US President's program to help HIV victims.

On August 23rd--just 2 days before leaving the village--the pumps arrived from Lusaka and we presented them to 4 groups of people living with HIV/AIDs. That is Eunice and Bupe to my left and 80 members of the 4 groups were present.

We demonstrated how to assemble the portable pumps and how to operate. They are portable and are powered by peddles, making them very appropriate technology for rural areas. Below you see the blue hose carrying the water from the pump to the beds while being peddled. Behind is the source of the water--a stream. Note that the peddling farmer is a woman--not unusual.

The 30 foot hose delivers to the furthest bed in the garden while members watch on.

Each year, Peace Corps submits a story of a successful grant. Our pump project was selected and submitted to Washington DC this year.

Eunice is mybest friend in Mpepo and main counterpart. I came to know her through the clinic where she volunteers as anadherence counselor, helping the HIV positive people of our area to obtain andtake their medicine correctly. She also co-coordinates 3 STAR Circles, which isa group who seeds to learn positive living skills, for example: villagebanking, community gardening, nutrition. Unlike many people inflicted with HIV.Eunice is very open about her status, thus being a model for positiveliving. Eunice is very active in the Seventh DayAdventist Church, and served as their treasurer for 5 years.

As we worked in the same office together atthe clinicr, we had the opportunity to talk weekly and found the not only couldshe understand my accent, she was a very open and direct person in herspeech. For example, she didn’t hesitateto tell me about the detrimental beliefs in witchcraft which keeps people fromseeking medical treatment. She wasmarried to a man from Zimbabwe and lived there for a time so her world view isbroader than most villagers. She isvery trustworthy with money. Besidesbudgeting her own money exceptionally well (the staff even ask her for loans!),she is a good guardian of the STAR Circles and Church’s monies.

When Ineeded to choose someone to bring to a PEPFAR (HIV) training, Eunice was myfirst choice. Together, we founded anumbrella organization to plan and coordinate HIV prevention efforts in Mpepo,we wrote two grants—one for World AIDS Day 2010 and the other for Hand Pumps for the Star Circles’ community gardens.

The vegetablegarden is Eunice’s favoriteget-away: she goes before work andwaters or hoes or weeds or plants all year round. In addition to thetraditional vegetables of kale, tomatoes, onions and okra, Eunice planted the lettuce seeds which weresent to me and harvested seeds to continue to supply the Peace Corps Volunteerssalad. She is the best farmer I know.. During the dry season, she must scoopup 8 buckets of water from the nearby stream for each bed planted. It was my visits to her garden which gave methe idea to introduce irrigation pumps for people with HIV.

Beforeleaving the village, I asked Eunice to write her life to share with you on myblog. This is what she wrote:I am EuniceChikoye, a widow with five children: oneboy and four girls- Zambian by nationality living in Mpepo village, MpepoChiefdom, Mpika District in the Northern Province. I am 54 years old and living positively,which means with HIV virus. My husbanddied 21 March, 2004 after a long illness and suffered from TB. He was tested for the virus: unfortunately,he died before knowing his status, although he suspected it. The situation did put me in suspicion and thisthought forced me to get tested before my husband died. After his burial, Iwent back to the hospital and received the results. I was told that I was HIV positive and askedto be put on ARV drugs. Unfortunately, Icouldn’t manage since I needed to pay K40,000 ($10) every month for thedrugs. I had no one to support mefinancially so I waited until he drugs became available for free in 2005.My oldestdaughter had by then completed school and teacher’s college and began tosupport me financially for my transport to and from the hospital forrefilling. The entire family has beenencouraging and reminding me to take my medicine at the right time. The children also help with the work at oursmall farm and garden. My youngest 2girls are still in school. I worry thatI cannot produce enough income fo save something at the bank. They are very bright so I worry about beingable to pay their school fees for higher education. Being a small scale farmer I wish otherpeople to come in so that my children will be able to finish school and thiswill be for their freedom in live and the prosperity of the nation. I am agarden farmer and hope to go into poultry farming. This needs manpower and a good financialstanding. That is why I am appealing toanybody to assist me in this journey in order to cross the bridge to the otherend. May God open windows for me and myfamily.

I call her "Mpundu" which means "twin" in Bemba because we share some strong similarities: she is born one month after me, is retired, a widow, works as a volunteer, was a teacher, and is very involved in the Catholic Church.

Doris is one of the first people I met since we share an office at the clinic. She speaks fluent English and Bemba, being a retired school teacher. She has recently built her own home where she is raising two grandchildren. She also has a farm about 10 km from our village. There, her widowed daughter-in-law lives and works.

Early in my service, Doris let me accompany her on a home visit to one of her HIV clients who hadn't come in to the clinic for her medication. Doris is an adherence counselor. The bike ride was along the bush path and Doris' tire had a flat which we tried to repair but it wouldn't hold the air so we walked some of the way. When we arrived at the home of her client, she found the reason for her not coming in--she couldn't walk due to deep open wound which wouldn't heal. The hospital in Mpika wanted to amputate her leg but she doesn't want that. In addition, she was experiencing diarrhea. So I gave her some dietary tips (protein and low fat suggestions). We also arranged for her mother to come and pick up her ART's the next day.

After leaving that home, we two old ladies limped back with the flat tire to Doris' farm. While her grandson tried to fix her tire, we sat inside and ate caterpillars--my first. I only ate one while she scooped up a bag full to take back with her.

I asked Doris to use her down time at the clinic to translate the antenatal classes. This will hopefully help the facilitators in their presentations given to the pregnant women. Most materials in Zambia are printed in English which has very limited use in the village. Doris' language and teaching skills are invaluable. So being the hard-working person she is, she took the flip charts home to work the translations there. Now I have submitted her work to Peace Corps so that all the health volunteers can benefit in their Bemba villages.

She is the sacristan at church so she attends the board meetings, prepares the altar, washes, sews and repairs the vestments and altar cloths. She is also involved in the women's organizations which meet after church on Sunday.

I worry about Doris' health. She has lost so much weight and has so many people dependent on her. I am always reminding her to rest, to say "no" to requests to cook and sew for the church functions, etc. We enjoy each other's company, though. Recently she she accompanied me as we escorted Eunice, our mutual friend, to her home. We created quite a stir with our big, floppy hats.

Before leaving my service in Mpepo, I asked her to share her life in writing for this blog. Here is what she wrote:

My name is Doris Chitambo Chanda. I am a Zambian woman agen 62. Being the third and eldest in the family ofeleven children, I did not go farther than secondary education. I was married to a teacher who was working onthe Copperbelt Prince. When I had fourchildren with him, he was sent to work in the rural area, where I found lifedifferent and difficult as a full house wife. When my fourth born was two years old I decided to go for a teachertraining college. Leaving the smallestto be looked after by my parents and the other three by their father. Knowingly somehow I was risking the lives ofmy children, by depriving them of parental love, I went to college andcompleted the two year course.When I joined my husband and children for work. I had three more children. The year the first three children were intheir secondary classes and one was plmpleting, my husband was found to have TBand was given early retirement as a teacher and he stayed a long time in hospital. After his discharge we came to his home inthe village of Mpepo. There I taught atthe Basic School and looked after the family. After three years there my youngest child died. Three months later my husband also died. While a widow and still in sorrow, I thoughtof getting a medical check up because I was feeling ill. It was then that I found out I was HIVpositive. It was 2003 when I became veryill and was taken to a big hospital—VTH. There the test showed that I had TB just like my husband. Fortunately I was treated and put on ARV’s(for HIV). It was not easy for mebecause these medicines were only sold at a few hospitals in 2003. So besides buying my medicine which wascostly, I had three children to educate and three others pursuing colleges. I was in a fix and my health wasbad. God willing, I struggled to work inthis state until I retired from teaching in 2005.I am currently a peacant farmer. My positive HIV status makes me a role modelin the community, expecially with other people living positvitly. I am a trained counselor and facilitator forSafe Motherhood.Now that I am a small scale farmer and only raise enough fora consumption for a family of 5. I am raising two granddaughters who areorphans.

I do not make much money to sendto my two sons in college. I am askingfor any aid from any organization which can enable me to have and reaise moneyto educate these children even when I will be no moreFaithfully yours,

Dpris C. ChandaPO Box 410685Kasama, Northern Province-Zambia

Here I sit in the thriving metropolis of Kasama with my cup of Kasama-grown coffee and my netbook powered by electricity. My comfort is marred by nostalgia for my beloved village of Mpepo where I worked since Sept 29th, 2009. Let me just review the last few days prior to leaving it. I returned early on Sunday morning from Mpika in order to attend church services in the village and say good-bye and thanks to my church community--St Francis Catholic Church

The chairperson of the church council agreed to let me "address the Christians", but when the time came and I went to the front, I found that I couldn't control my emotions and the only words I could get out were "Good-bye" and "Thank you." It was a total meltdown with some of the congregation joining in with tears of their own. As it happened, the part-time priest was there and we had Mass. He addressed me in English, thanking me for my weeekly attendance and help with the choir (don't worry--I didn't sing). Then he had me come back up and everyone who wished came up to shake my hand or hug me as they saw fit. (Hugging is NOT a Bemba tradition so that was very moving--more tears.)

On Monday, I packed up my office and my belongings. Eunice and I also went to the market in preparation for the next day when we would serve a meal to our visitors and cookies with "monkoyo" to the members of the STAR Circles.

Tuesday morning, Sally Rose arrived from Peace Corps Lusaka with the 4 irrigation pumps to be presented in the garden (see separate posting).

On Wednesday, I started the day by cooking pancakes for my 3 friends who arrived shortly after 6 am to prepare a feast for the farewell party. I discovered that my camera lens would not open and so I don't have any pictures to show you here. Too bad that I can only jodescribe this wonderful party.

After breakfast, Belinda killed 5 chickens by cutting their throats. She offered for me to participate, but I settled for watching ONE sacrifice. I did join in plucking the feathers, then cutting the vegetables. By noon, the food was cooked and we were handed the 10 point agenda by Mr Mobita, my neighbor and the clinic's Environmental Health Technician. There were speeches, games, singing, dancing, a DJ, an MC, gift presentations and I was subjected to a 10 question focused interview. The guests included my neighbors, counterparts, the Chief's wife (who called me her best friend), representatives from church, and the entire St. Paul's choir. Luckily, I had been briefed and prepared the answers to the questions: What was my happiest and saddest days? How do I find Zambia? Which Zambian did I find the most friendly, the most religious, the most hard working? Am I happy? and leading off was the description of my life including education and professional experience. I told them that they will wish I was 25 so my answers could be shorter. Luckily, I was in control of my emotions this time as I concentrated on the interview.

The choir sung and played the homemade guitars which Antonio (my son-in-law) paid for. Finally we all ate. I served cakes which I made in Lusaka and we started dancing. Darkness fell so we left for the night.

Thursday, my closest friends came and helped finish cleaning up and bringing all my stuff into the yard to load onto the Peace Corps cruiser which arrived after 10 am. I had a chance to give them all "rememberences" such as my coal iron, my radio and my mirror. I left the village for the last time as a resident with many loving friends and neighbors. I will always cherish the time I spent in Mpepo.

My hut is made of local materials such as mud bricks which have been baked in a homemade kiln. Then they are cemented together into three rooms.

Wooden poles serve as rafters and thatch is laid over for the roof. Because of the rain, Peace Corps requires a layer of plastic over the thatch and another layer of thatch. Cement floor is in my hut but traditionally the floors of Zambian huts are packed dirt.

It didn't take long to realize that the termites were going to literally eat me out of house and home so my first major project was to smear cement over the inside of the walls and then cover that with a layer of lime (or whitewash). I am happy to say that that fixed the problem on the walls.

However, they still climb up the interior of the bricks and eat the wooden rafters. I had the poles treated with black medicine but they are so tiny they eat the untreated area facing the thatch. Periodically, I bang on the poles with my broom handle so they fall off into my face, hair, floor, clothes. This is a "spring cleaning" project which I don't enjoy.

Chitenge material covers the inner door openings. These were my first sewing project with my new treadle sewing machine purchased in Lusaka.

My couch was made by a local carpenter with hand tools while I sewed the cushion covers. The living room also contains my sewing machine, two chairs, and my bike.

In the bedroom, the bed is sealed with an ITN (insecticide treated net) to keep out malaria mosquitoes. At the foot there is a suspended dowel rod for my closet. Over the top of the bed net and closet is more plastic sheeting to keep out the rain of termites and water.

A wooden book shelf hold supplies, shoes, and books while a plastic stack unit holds the folded clothes. On the floor is a strip of linoleum which helps to keep dust and cold out but makes dirt visible so I can easily clean them.

The storage room hold all my supplies for cleaning, cooking and eating plus my water tower topped with a filter. Drinking water is treated with chlorine and run through the filter. An additional tank holds cooking water. Two 20 liter gerry cans are used to pump water from the well and store the cleaning water. It is in one of these containers that I distill the banana mango wine.

Outside are separate structures made of bush materials: a kitchen where I cook and receive visitors (Zambians do not enter one's house). The kitchen is called an insaka. I built a small brick oven so my charcoal brazier is off the ground while I sit on a low stool and cook. Next to it is a big bag of charcoal which I buy from the locals. They are good at making charcoal from the forest and transporting it on their bicycles. I bought some stools for my visitors from a local wood carver.

the outhouse, I have a very nice outhouse. It is big and light and airy. I even store the garden tools there.

and a bathing shelter which is just walls and a floor. You can read about my bucket baths taken under the stars in other posting. Attached to the bathing shelter are the grass walls of my kitchen garden.

This consists of 6 small rows of plants which I double dug, and use my grey water to maintain during the dry season. Here I have successfully grown bananas, pawpaw, okra, tomato, pumpkin, watermelon, basil, green beans, green peppers, and pineapples. The chickens are constantly poking their way through the thatch and digging nests in the soft wet earth. GRRR. The door is a lean-to which closes the opening to the garden. Both door and walls are always needing repair. Bush materials are cheap but don't last very long.

The back and sides of the hut are open fields. Very pastoral. I planted mango, guava, avocado and apple trees in the yard as my fight against deforestation. I love this place.

August is the month that villagers bring in their dried and shucked maize (amataba) in sacks, There it is weighed and transferred into government sacks.

They are then paid by our Agricultural worker, Newton. Corn is heavily subsidized by the government and the single biggest source of income. Most villagers don't have bank accounts and budgeting is often difficult to spread over 12 months. If they sell their whole crop to pay debts, they will later have to buy the maize to feed their family. Maize is the staple food of Africa and used as a flour, a cereal grain, and a vegetable. Since it lacks the amino acid Tyrosine, it needs to be combined with other foods like cassava to be effective as a protein source.

Each year I have lived here, the piles of corn have grown, showing that the farmers see the earning potential of this crop. It is rumored that last year's crop has not yet been sold by the government but the hunger and drought in Somalia and Kenya should be a boon to this year's corn crop.

The most amazing part of farming in Zambia is that the farmers do everything by hand, using a hoe (ulukasu) and a knife. It is no wonder they are so strong--or is it a blessing?

If they had access to better tools, they could expand their farms and increase their yields. One example would be the introduction of cattle for plowing. Another example is installing irrigation systems which don't use fuel. During my service, I wrote a letter of application to the Heifer Foundation for a pair of cattle and the knowledge to take care of them. I also wrote a grant for 4 hand pumps to irrigate the fields during the dry season. They were presented to the STAR Circles( HIV effected persons) during my last week in Mpepo.

You can now get the new blog posts by e-mail rather than checking my blog. I added that feature to the main blog page. You need to sign up with your e-mail address for this to work.

It is official: Our country director has called the close of service (COS) on September 2nd for my intake. This is 3 weeks early to clear out the COS folks from Lusaka during elections.

I, on the other hand, am committed to training the newbees from Sept 12-Oct 9th in Chongwe (outside of Lusaka) so my schedule will not change. (Famous last words)

Peace Corps will "pull" me (a well chosen phrase) from my village on August 25th. We will say our goodbyes to Northern Province on Aug 26th and head down to Lusaka on Aug 27th. This will be the hard part and conclusion of the two years in Mpepo serving as a health volunteer.

Hopefully, my airline ticket has already been purchased to bring me to my family, friends, and classmates in Chicago and Granada areas flying out to America on Oct 9th.

After that, I am expecting to return to Lusaka as an PC extension volunteer for one year (to Sept 2, 20112?) The detail of this extension are not clear, but it will be with the National Food and Nutrition Commission. They are affiliated with the Ministry of Health and have produced the "Food composition tables" and "Improved Complementary Foods brochure for Breastfed babies."

I am very interested in helping with their training and publishing programs country-wide and even interfacing with their partners. Working for them at the national level is exciting and familiar to me. I will of course be posting the activities after I return in November.

Lake Tanganyika is an African Great Lake. It is estimated to be the second largest freshwater lake in the world by volume, and the second deepest, after Lake Baikal inSiberia;[3] it is also the world's longest freshwater lake. The lake is divided among four countries – Burundi, Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), Tanzania and Zambia, with the DRC (45%) and Tanzania (41%) possessing the majority of the lake. The water flows into the Congo River system and ultimately into the Atlantic Ocean.--taken from Wikipedia.

After our Nutrition Workshop concluded, three of us-Barb, Cheng and myself--hitched up to Mpulungu so we could see this famous lake before I left Northern Province.

We checked into a cute little chalet run by a Zambian woman, Charity, who gives PCVs a budget price of K35000 per night per person ($6) . We then found a fisherman who would rent his boat out to us for the day. Since we were there during the full moon, he would not be able to fish anyway.

He charged us K500,000 ($90) for the whole boat for the whole day. And he brought along all the male members of the family, it seems, to be his crew.

We crossed over to where there were two sand beaches where we enjoyed the views and waded in the water and ate our packed lunch.

While the family looked on.

We had a great time, arriving at sunset.

The boat even dropped us off at a bar on the beach. Now there was a grand finale!!

The 22 participants of the March Workshop returned to their respective villages and prepared for Child Health Week. During that week they weighed all the under 5 children and measured the upper arms of the underweight kids using MUAC tapes. The information on weight and MUAC provided them with analysis of how many children were wasted or stunted. Next they visited the homes of the normal weight children to learn the feeding and caring practices which promote good health.

That brings us to our second 2 day workshop. We reconvened in Kasama and reported our experiences in training health volunteers in using the MUAC tapes and in interviewing families. One of the attendees had translated the material into Bemba in writing. The use of the MUAC tapes were to be standard procedure so the training was good for the health clinic staff. Sharing the reaction to a new program is always varied, but most communities were very excited to address the issue of child malnutrition.

We then began to plan the educational sessions which will be held for 12 consecutive days with 6-10 underweight children and their caretakers. For this we divided into groups and developed recipes using only readily available foods to teach at our Hearth (called Ishiko) sessions.

The groups also developed Health Talks based on behaviors which promote good nutrition: Family spacing, budgeting, seasonal calendar for gardening, and child feeding practices. Lastly we brainstormed all the child-centered activities we knew in Bemba and English like “Ring around the rosy” and “This little piggy”.

The workshop concluded with the awarding of certificates. The participants went back to train mothers who will host the sessions and I will analyze and publish the recipes, health talks, Bemba translations and list of child-centered activities . The manual will contain the work of our workshop.

No, the title does not indicate my second childhood, although I feel that I am going through it while experiencing the Peace Corps euphoria. TOT is short for training of trainers-a common phenomena here in Zambia. All last week 20 trainers representing Health and Language were working through the July 4th holiday and a Zambian holiday called "Heroes Day. We were preparing for the new group of 36 Health Volunteers expected to fly in toward the end of July and undertake 11 weeks of training. Three of us volunteers will divide that time away from our villages so that the trainees and even the Zambian trainers can benefit from the experienced American's perspective. It felt good to reunite with our trainers in the same buildings I was prepared for village life. Pictured is a presentation in the open air gazebo. The blinds are lowered to protect us from the winter cold and blowing dust. Our sessions centered around facilitation skills. Of interest was a DVD about the Millennium Generation (or genY). The info explained alot of the behaviors I observed while working with young people. Wish I had seen it when I was the internship director but it was good to know while surrounded by all the 20-year-olds in Peace Corps. It felt good to be back as a trainer and not worry about passing my Bemba simulation exams. My "bamayo" with whom I lived those 9 weeks so seemingly long ago came to visit. Now that I own a netbook, I could show her all the photos I had taken while living with her. While in Lusaka I printed 39 photos of my village to give out before leaving them in 2 mos. I can almost hear the timer ticking down the days....

Twice a year--usually in June and November--the Ministry of Health sponsors Child Health Week. During this time the children under 5 years of age are weighed, immunized, and given a Vit A supplement and a deworming pill. All but the last two are also carried out at the monthly under five clinics. However, I think because of the free Vit A and deworming pills, we see children who are rarely seen. It is common to serve 80 children in a day at each village. The Mpepo RHC has 11 outposts so we need 3 teams of workers per day to complete the work in a week.

Although I normally avoid direct service because it takes me away from development work and training, I always participate in Child Health Week if Peace Corps does not schedule a meeting during this time. It is a time to see the level of child malnutrition (47%--mostly stunting from lack of protein). It is a time for me to observe and train the child health volunteers on techniques, like zero the weighing scale with the bag hanging on it. It is a time to correct the age calculation and weight plots in the child health card. It is a time for the mothers to see that I am tangibly working! They laugh at my pronunciation but they get a bit of advice on feeding their children peanuts, beans and eggs. I am in my comfort zone with the screaming mob of toddlers and their frazzled mothers. It reminds me of WIC and the need to address child nutrition worldwide. I am so frustrated that I can't communicate better in Bemba but the staff who translate for me are also learning what to tell the mothers about feeding their children or taking them to the clinic for sick care.

While the clinic staff have 2 motorbikes to ride, I leave early to bike back and forth to the health posts. This past week, I had Peace Corps visitors on Monday and Tuesday so I worked at the home base clinic those days which is much more boring. I didn't rack up the biked miles which I usually do during CHW.

The wedding preparations included obtaining goats and chickens , making the Monkoyo (a drink fermented for 2 days from roots)

My Bamayo and mother of the bride, Vainess. Since she is a widow, she had to arrange all the bride price, training of the bride, and wedding food herself. There were a number of negotiating parties who came to her house to ask for her daughter and to arrange the conditions.

Some of the bridal party carrying their gifts on their heads. This was a traditional wedding so there was no church service. A truck arrived the night before around 11 pm carrying the young people of the groom's village.They sang and danced and eventually kidnapped the bride who left under a chitenge (cloth) behind her grandmother, who was the accomplice. Together, they were driven back to the groom's village and kept in a separate house. The grandmother was a chaparone to ensure the separation. The bride cooked and cleaned for her in-laws after they paid her.

Here is a guest dancing up to the gift table to leave his present and explain how to use it. The wedding party are seated in front and dressed in western clothes.

Now the bride and groom cut the cake. There are no pictures of the bride's face. She is trained to look down the entire time as a good wife should always be submissive.

It has happened to me twice in the past month. We are driving along Kasama road at 100 km per hour and the driver gets a hand signal from a pedestrian like a tumble motion. The first time, it was Ba Lamek, our Peace Corps driver. He quickly pulled over and shot out of the driver's side to run back. However, he came back slowly and empty-handed. He proceeded to explain that he ran over a mole crossing the street. They come out of their holes at this cold time of the year. They are quite delicious to eat, he explained. A pedestrian beat him to the dinner entre (called "relish"). The second time I was a passenger in a minibus just behind the driver and on the same bench as his conductor. When we pulled over and the conductor jumped out, I didn't even look around since this is routine to pick up the 20 something passengers which cram into the van. However, the conductor climbed back in his seat with a dead tan mole dangling from his hand. I instinctively jumped away like I could escape through the side window and made a small yelp sound. That was hilarious to everyone in the bus but the driver quickly instructed the front passenger to open the glove compartment and they tossed their roadkill inside.

Immediately after I had my dental appointment in Lusaka, I taxied over to Lusaka's bus terminal--always a crazy hub of activity. There I found that the busses were sold out for the next two days. Reason: Having been out of my village for 3 weeks already, I told the taxi driver to pick me up at 5 am the following morning and to deposit me on the hitchhiker's spot outside the city on the Great North Road (a 2 lane asphalt road which takes me 620 km to Mpika.

All the other volunteers seem to prefer hitching to the 12 hour bus trip and encourage me to wait for a good vehicle. During the predawn glow, I was afraid I wouldn't be seen or worse--run over, so I was pleasantly surprised that an SUV pulled over after only about 10 minutes wait. He can take me to Kapiri where I can get another hitch or even take the the train. All is well until he stops for fuel only to find out that the town of Kabwe doesn't have any. So he arranges for me to transfer to a local minibus and uses my money to pay for it. I have grave reservations but finally agree as it is a "timed" bus and Kapiri is only 50 km away. It is the local bus which stops every 10 meters of course, but we manage in a reasonable amount of time.

Now I find myself on the side of the road once again, hand waving the passing vehichles. For a second time, a nice SUV pulls over and picks me up a matter of minutes. They can take me as far as Mpika which would have been great......BUT they had to stop in Mukoshi for the brother to register his daughter in High School. When we stop for that, there is a problem and they have to come back later. So now the driver refunds part of my money and I am on the side of the road again. This time I wait 4 hours before I get a family in a nice car going all the way past Mpepo (my village). Yay! After 12 hours I am home! Cost of hitches combined: K130,000. Cost of bus ticket K130,000 Intestinal anguish--priceless!

I arrived at the corner gas station near Peace Corps Office in Lusaka at 7:00 am looking for a quick breakfast. They are closed! I then made a pass around all four corner shops, a bakery and a grocery store only to find all of them closed as well. After going full circle, I found the original gas station now open. Low and behold there is an expresso machine on the counter--but no accessessories like those little mugs around it. So I ask the counter girl if it is working and she replys "Yes". I order my coffee black so I can savor a good cuppa Java. She is doing her thing with a cup under the steamer jet as I get out my money and when I look back up she has a can of instant Ricoffe which she is spooning into the cup. I ask if she just made me Ricoffe and she replies "Yes". So I guess the machine is used as a VERY expensive way of boiling water.

In part 3 of our journey, we returned the rental car after 3 days and headed for the city of Capetown. Here I am standing guard in the Castle (fort, really) of Good Hope with the city skyline and Table Mountain poking up.

On Sunday, we went to St George Cathedral where Desmond Tutu presides. It was the first Anglican Mass I remember attending and the service was so similar to RC that we had to check the title on the Anglican prayer book to be sure. After church we took a walk in the park where we encountered this statue of Cecil Rhodes--Englishman. Zambia used to be called Northern RHODEsia before 1961.

After this we celebrated my 64th birthday at the backpacker''s hostel with a bottle of bubbly, then headed for the beach on the ONLY warm day of our trip. Perfect timing.

We got plenty of photos of the World Cup Stadium which are still on my camera. I don't know if I will be able to upload them since I am in the Johannesburg airport ready to board the plain and leave high-speed internet behind. Trying to get my last pics up for awhile.

While on holiday in South Africa, I have found the high speed radio service here has made it possible to upload pictures more easily on the blog. Trying to take advantage of that perk, I have gone back into some old postings of mine and added some more pictures. If you are a follower, you may want to take a peak at the last 15 posts again to get a better visual of life in Peace Corps Zambia.

Does this look like Africa? With the Dutch name of Franschoek, this wine country is dominated by Hugenot (French) settlers in South Africa.

It is winter here so we need a fire and even jackets in addition to wine to keep us warm.

If that wasn't enough, we even got to taste Belgium chocolates!

All our adventures were made possible by renting a Tata.

After 48 hours and 4 tours ending with a champagne tasting, we headed for the airport to return the car and move on to the next wobbly leg of our journey.

On April 19 the 8 Mpika Peace Corps volunteers met with Mark Storella, the US Ambassador to Zambia. We are standing in the doorway of Bayama's restaurant where we had a very relaxing conversation and buffet lunch.

Above is a picture from our 29 km bike ride to the Cape of Good Hope. This section of the highway is a favorite hangout of the baboons.(Grooming each other behind Suzie)

Suzie flew down to meet me in Capetown on Good Friday. Her flight arrived two hours after mine and we were picked up by Quayside Hotel van and driven to Simon's Town-the South African Naval port in the South Penninsula. We stayed there for 5 nights and enjoyed the luxury of a very developed area. Imagine me seeing myself in a mirror, getting a hair cut, giving ourselves pedicures, eating fresh seafood, and having a minibar in the room! Here is a picture from our hotel window.

On Saturday we went to the Easter Vigil service at a tiny Catholic Church--the predominate religion of this area being Dutch Reformed Church.

Being in the harbor was a great experience, although it is winter and Capetown is in the temperate zone, so it was too windy and cold (for me) to swim or sunbathe. Coming from Chicago Spring, Suzie thought the temps were very moderate.

Penquins and otters also sunbathe just off the coast on the rocks of this harbor. The stand-alone rock formation is called "Noahs Ark"

Here is close up of the penguins. They are called "Jackass Penquins" because of the noise they make, but are quite small in size

As I write this we are leaving the Southern Penninsula and headed for wine country. Stay tuned.....

I have just joined the ranks of volunteers who have biked 60 km for nothing. (Sigh)

The Neighborhood Health Committee in Manshya East wanted to go through the Health Education training program. They are located 30 km from the clinic, so I biked out to meet with them and we drafted a schedule. On the first day of training, the facilitator couldn't go because the battery of his motorbike was flat (he didn't start checking on it until the day before) so I biked out to teach myself. The village does not have cell phone (or network) coverage. When I asked for an escort at the turnoff from the road to the bush path, I found that they only accompany people one time and I had used up that hospitality on my first trip two weeks prior. So I proceeded the last 7 km of bush on my own, stopping the few pedestrians on the path to verify that I was still on the right path. I eventually made it out to the Child Health Worker's home by accident only to find out that the group decided they could not meet until the following Wednesday. They just didn't bother to communicate that to me. However, my host was very hospitable and gave me a chair, a glass of water, an ear of fresh corn, a tour of his garden. When I was rested, I began my journey home hoping that the next trip would not be a waste. Well, this sort of experience keeps us in shape anyway. Another good aspect is that rainy season is over and the path was dry.In fact I enjoyed the greenery and butterflies along the way.

So last night we had the COS party for the intake which preceeded my own. These volunteers have been in the Education and Agriculture Programs for the past two years. There are 5 who are leaving Zambia in a few days. The theme of the party was cowboys, indians, ninjas and pirates. This variety makes it easier for us to hit the thrift shops and put an outfit together. Coming from Arizona, I actually had the beginnings of a Native American costume. 28 of us came up to Kasama to give them a send off. We cooked (I brought cabbages and basil from my garden) and ate and then danced. It was great fun. It is so easy to plan get-togethers here with our Provincial house.

Now my intakes become the "seniors". I have finally grown into my description. I have felt a sadness because these are the people who helped us shop and showed us the ropes when we arrived in Kasama. I am grateful to them. I am also sad because it means that our time here is also limited. There are many projects to complete. The stress is on....

Since my last anticipatory blog posting, I came down with Malaria. Now that makes me the expert on the subject. It started with a general "I don't feel right" feeling on the morning I came back to my village. By the time I stepped out of the cruiser which picked me up, I knew I was feverish. The 15 min walk back to my hut was the longest ever and I went straight to bed without cooking or unpacking. That evening a fellow-volunteer arrived for a planned visit and she found me too sick to get out of bed. Being very understanding, she cooked supper and went back to her village the next day. That was a god send to have someone there. I called our medical phone number in Lusaka, who determined that I had missed taking my prophylactic medication on time and had a full blown case. I started taking the antimalarial Coartem from our first aid kit. Turns out that the meds had expired last Oct but still brought down the fever in 24 hours. The diarrhea continued for about 4 days and kept me close to home. By Thursday I was back at work but had a new understanding for the patients who walk in to the clinic to be treated for Malaria. I could barely get out of bed let alone sit in a waiting line on the clinic porch. The treatment really works, though and I now have my phone alarm set so I don't forget to take my preventive medication. The virus causes the red blood cells to break down leaving you quite anemic It also inflames the intenstinal lining which causes diarrhea and intestinal blood loss (not to mention the hemorrhoids). The long term treatment is to build up ones red blood cells by eating high quality iron sources of food, like red meat. Since I am in Kasama for a week I will be able to tank up. I did manage to buy impala and eat it for two days Without refrigeration, it was a bit risky and I shared it with my neighbors and the cats. The test of my renewed stamina came the following week when I biked 40 km round trip for a planning meeting in my furthest village outpost. I was exhausted but triumphant when I got home. The neatest thing was that my counterparts came to check on me the next day to see if I made it. I am well cared for here and feel like I earned the red badge of courage. PS The malaria totally made me miss the InternationalWoman's Day celebration which I talked about in my last post. I never left the bed that day.

Tuesday, March 8 will be International Women's Day. I am looking forward to a celebration in Mpepo similar to last year: In the morning, I will meet with the female teachers and we will discuss gender equality in Zambia. In the afternoon, we will join the other 300 women of Mpepo who gather in a church--this year the United Church of Zambia--where we will sing and dance and pray and give talks. I have already been assigned to talk on HIV. My plan is to emphasize the need to make decisions about our own health. I am debating whether to include a female condom demonstration in church. The men will hopefully cook for us again like last year--a VERY unusual treat. Maybe this year they will take the time to wash the greens before cooking them, but their hearts are in the right place!

Tues, March 1, marks 50 years since the announcement of Peace Corps founding by John Kennedy on the steps of the U of Michigan. Of the many events planned, the international staff can choose to be a volunteer for a day. To this end I issued an invitation to any Lusaka staff to stay with me in Mpepo for the day and Sally Rose accepted the challenge. She will draw water from the well, cook on a brazier, and talk to girls at school about Club Glow. I just hope she owns a pair of comfortable shoes!

It is thrilling to celebrate this occasion in the bush! Here I am in the birth place of homosapiens, jazz and soul! Pinch me, somebody! On March 1, 1961 I was in Washington DC for our 8th grade class trip.

Here I am in my village writing this text in word. When completed, I will copy it. Next I will copy it to my blog after connecting to the internet via a little modem or (stick) in the same way I connect by phone. I preload the airtime the same as a “to go” phone. If you are reading this, it means I am successful. You won’t have to wait 2 or more weeks for a reply to your comments If you are reading this, it worked

Zambia has electricity in towns. There are power outages at inconvenient times but it is still what draws me to come in from the bush. Here I can cook on a stove, work on a computer, and take a hot shower--all powered by electricity.

Meanwhile, back at the Mpepo Rural Health Center there are 4 large solar panels mounted on the tin roof. One is for the lights on the porches of the hospital. One is for the radio communication with the Ministry of Health and other emergency situations, and two are powering the refrigerator which holds our vaccines and medicine. Less than 1/4 km away power lines run through our village originating at the waterfalls and ending at the Chambeshi transformer. This set-up was installed and donated to Zambia by a private company. The lines are currently not connected to any institution or house as we await the government and electric company who and how to pay for connection and delivery--infrastructure-- is the buzzword.

I brought a Solio solar charger with me from the states to charge my phone. It works very well even in the rainy season. The villagers pay a fee to charge theirs at the clinic or tuck shops which also have solar panels. I was recently gifted with a solar light bulb from Barbara--another volunteer--sent to her by an NGO in the States. I hitched it to a long pole which I tuck into the thatch so the bulb hangs out in the sun during the day. After supper I take the pole and tuck it in the thatch inside at night. I call it my bulb on a stick.

Now that I own a computer I have been very happy but a little frustrated about having to come to Kasama to work on it. None of the existing panels generate enough power to charge the netbook-sized laptop. When I bought it online from Walmart, I researched the solar set-up needed to purchase in Zambia and found it cost prohibitive. The panel alone cost more than the computer. That needs to be connected to a car battery which holds the charge which is connected to an inverter which regulates the power which is connected to whatever you want to charge. (I may have left out a hip bone connection) You can imagine my excitement when I arrived in Kasama and learned that a fellow volunteer just found and bought the set-up for a fraction of my store estimates. Yesterday Barbara and I walked out of town to the local market and bought the same set-up as he. I got installation instructions from the other volunteer. If it works, I will be writing my next blog post from Mpepo.

PS: the new banner picture on my blog is a photo of a rainbow over my outhouse and the windmill at the rural health center.

We have lots of them and they are adorable. Zambians have a saying that you don't have a family until you have five children. Large families in this society poses obvious problems of providing food and education. In 2006 World Vision found 50% malnutrition rate in Northern Province. They implemented a program through Africare's Rapids program called Positive Deviance/Hearth. Started in 1980 in Haiti, PD Hearth is a community-based behavior change approach to rehabilitating malnourished children in countries with limited resources. The premise is: if some families raise healthy children, we can duplicate their behaviors through educating families of malnourished children. It is like the legend of Stone Soup where the community helps one another.

Check out the Dec post formerly entitled "Food..mmm" is now rightfully labeled "Caterpillars-Yum! More info has been added about this unusual calcium source.

I want to start this post with two disclaimers: 1. This is just one female volunteer's views. I don't represent Peace Corps or the US Government 2. This is not a finger-pointing exercise. I am very aware of the recent 20/20 special and other investigative reporting about PC and want to weigh in on the issue.

Being a woman has its dangers. There is always an inner voice questioning motives, actions, words, in any new encounter with the opposite sex. Defensive skills are inherent in being a woman. We have a sixth sense for hidden meanings. Now add to that the Peace Corps situation of living alone in a different culture and where local government has a felt need to work in gender equality. Whoa! This poses many potential dangers. It didn't take a 20/20 special for me to think about these. In fact, I chose not to join Peace Corps when I was in college because of them and during my PC phone interview I asked about the safety of women living alone.

My own decision to join PC was sealed by the belief that my advanced age would protect me. I have discovered that to be true. Age is respected. While discussing the respectful nature of Zambians during a ride I got through hitch hiking (the safest mode of transport), the driver openly admitted that his own attitude toward me changed when he realized my age. I can see the difference when I am in the company of the young female volunteers walking in town. They are approached and treated differently than I. At times I pose as their mother to counter the unwanted attention. Some have reported weekly marriage proposals. I can only imagine how tiring it would be to continue working in a positive way while fending off inuendo and verbal propositions. I truly admire their strength and bravery.

During training we were given a "rap" sheet of crimes against volunteers complete with breakdown and trends. I am happy to report that theft, not rape, was the number one crime in Zambia. I also know that our Safety and Security officer is ranked "very supportive" by all volunteers and he acts very quickly and decisively on reports. I just wanted you who personally know me to not worry.

I also want to express my admiration for young women Peace Corps volunteers.

My counterpart and I biked to a nearby farm (15 km) where the Star (Society tackling AIDs through Rghts) Circle was working in their community gardens. It was one of those amazing days which are just full of discovery and positive vibes. The weather was conducive to biking--between rains and cool. The scenery was lush green (not at all like the picture above which was taken during dry season). The best scenery were the butterflies. They were so varied in size and color and flitting in front of us like they were thumbing their noses, saying "NaNaNaNaNah Nah! We are the ones that got away!" They knew I was cheering for them as catepillars in November when their cousins got caught and eaten. I always rooted for the ones who would make it to the other side to entertain us with their beauty. One even let me observe her at close range drinking deeply of the nectar of the flower stamen from which she hung all relaxed--probably in a sugar coma.

We arrived during the Star Circle meeting when the treasurer and president were giving out loans to buy seed and fertilizer to members who paid back their first loans. As this was occuring one-on-one, the other members were hoeing the fields. The treasurer asked if it was true that I would help them get a hand pump to irrigate their fields during dry season. I said "Yes" and raced up here to Kasama (not by bike) to write a grant for them. Since the members are all touched by HIV--either living positive or survivoring family of AIDs victims, they can get help through PEPFAR--the US Presidents' AIDs fund.

The chairwoman invited us to her home for a drink made of corn (I know, I know). I was shocked to see a cool grape arbor and many potted plants in the yard and then learned that her husband had been to Italy and Switzerland when he worked for an international company. He even brought back a grape vine which grew well and bore fruit. These people have vision and will be very valuable in teaching their members better farming methods. I am excited about supporting their work. It is a priviledge to live this close to the Zambians and witness their progress.

2011 marks the 50th Anniversary of Peace Corps! 1961 was a very good year for me and the USA. I graduated from 8th grade and joined a missionary order to come to Africa. Later I heard about the Peace Corps. It fit right into the "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country" which the Kennedy promoted. As a young idealistic person, it was an exciting concept. Since college graduation was a prerequisite to joining, I didn't give it much thought for a number of years. When college graduation came around for me I had only one thought-to get married so I would have a travel companion. So that is what happened and we travelled through a different organization. Now I am so proud and happy to be in Peace Corps during the 50th Anniversary. Visit the website for activities. I don't need any more activities to put me in the celebratory mood. Sargeant Shriver's recent death is underlining this as a memorable year. The end of an era. Be a part of it!

Bear with me, folks. If you sit in front of American TV, you listen to copious oblique commercials about the comfort, absobitancy and shape of feminine products. I want to write about places like Zambia where there are no paper products or Motrin and girls stay home from school 3 days per month unless they are timed for 2-day weekend periods. Not. That amounts to missing 6 weeks of school in 3 years of adolescence.

Our recent Camp Glow's craft time included time for the girls to sew sanitary pads from towels and chitenges. One participant rated that as her favorite activity on her evaluation at the end of the week.

The sister of another Peace Corps Volunteer learned of an American NGO called Days for Girls who is aware of the connection between sanitary supplies and staying in school and who graciously donated a kit for each girl. The kit consists of a machine sewn holder (not the garter belt of olden days) cloth pads, soap and washcloth, a ziplock bag, and a new pair of panties all encased in a cloth carrying sack with drawstring. I am quite excited about having a little hygiene session with the 2 girl leaders from my village. We will discuss a way that all the girls can sew pads in the after school club for girls which we plan to establish.

Time for writing my quarterly report for Peace Corps so I am writing my blog as a typical avoidance technique. December was the most hectic month of service. World AIDS Day activities kicked it into high gear. Immediately following was the week long girls' empowerment camp in Lwitikila. At least we had a working team which made the project very smooth and successful. The end of the month was the culmination of the year long health training for the Neighborhood Health Committe. e. They are so impressed with their certificates that people are coming out of the woodwork asking for one. We may have to repeat the series this year. Who knew that a piece of cardstock would be such a motivator!

Immediately after Christmas I started planning for a Childhood Malnutrition Intervention Workshop to be held in March. Look for a separate blog called PD/Hearth. Because I am the trainer and the topic is nutrition for under five year olds, I am really psyched...I don't think the last year of my service will fizzle but like many, I am just hitting my stride!

Living in Africa translates into descriptions of lions, elephants, giraffes, zebras, hippos. I am writing to report on the 5 most frequently-spotted animals in Mpepo--cats, termites, chickens, snakes, and goats.

Kalulu is pregnant again. I couldn't get a sedative from the Mpika vet so I could transport her for her operation. This is tiring enough news except her kitten, Isa, is also pregnant for the first time and hanging out at my house even though she belongs to my neighbor. Between the two of them, they consume a load of fish per week. I am not looking forward to both delivering their kittens in my hut so I instructed my neighbor to feed them at her house while I am away. Hopefully, Isa will get the homing device straight.

I need the cats around as this is snake season again. I hired a man to slash my grass because I couldn't keep up with my push lawn mower which feels like a toy when it comes to the elephant grass. Anyway, now that I have a lawn again I can see no less than two snake holes in the yard. Since I don't want a rerun of last year's black cobra in the insaka incident, I am not cooking eggs for the rest of the rainy season.

So far my efforts to keep the termites at bay is working well. The medicine in the rafters and cement on the walls are doing the job. They happily munch my outhouse and shower and insaka walls, but that is better than my hut. When the other volunteers camped on my lawn ONE NIGHT, the termites tried to eat their tents! So busy!!

Likewise the gardent walls are keeping out the chickens. The lettuce and sunflowers are my indicators. I have planted watermelon, squash, tomatoes and basil and hope the daily rains start in earnest so I don't have to keep watering them. They are sprouting as I type.

Last but not least,, the goats are now tied up since they can eat grass and don't need to roam for their food. Even though the rains were heavy in December, it has been dry the past 2 weeks and some of the maize and other crops are not sprouting well. That is why I stick to my kitchen garden close to home.

Speaking of which--flash bulletin--I bought a small netbook computer online and just got it brought to me by a PCV. This means I won't have to stand in the queue for the one PC at the house. Now I can type and Skype to my hearts content when I am here at the Provincial house. Yipee See you online!!

Termite damage prior to cementing walls.