21 November 2011Kasanka Weekend, Part 1: Bats!

Shaun and I and three fellow PCV pals headed to Kasanka National Park this past weekend to see the world's largest mammal migration. Every year late-October to early-December, millions of fruit bats (yep, bats are mammals) migrate from their homes in central DR Congo to roost in the forest of Kasanka National Park. They come here, where food is plentiful, for about 6 weeks each year to give birth to their young. Anyone interested in doing a PhD research study on these bats is welcome to contact the folks at Kasanka: we were told scientists do not yet know where exactly in DR Congo these bats live or where they go after their holiday in Zambia.

To learn more, check out this link: http://thebestofzambia.com/leisure/activities/national-parks/kasanka-national-park/. Here's an excerpt from that web page about the bat migration seen at Kasanka:

Kasanka National Park is best known for the bat migration. In late October each year large numbers of gigantic straw-coloureded fruit bats gather in a small area of Kasanka National Park Mushitu swamp forest near the confluence of the Musola and Kasanka Rivers. The number of fruit bats in this gathering can be as many as 10 million and they migrate to Kasanka from all over central Africa. At twilight bats fill the sky in all directions for twenty solid minutes as they leave their roost to feed though the night on abundant seasonal fruit of the miombo woodlands. This event is one of Africa’s most amazing and unusual wildlife spectacles – never forgotten by those lucky enough to witness it. This bat migration has been the subject of intense interest from scientists. The bats remain in the area for only six weeks to feast on mangoes that ripen at this time of the year.

We'd heard about the bat migration early on in our service and have been interested in checking it out. Shaun did bat research in Oregon and Kasanka is sort of in our backyard, being situated between Luapula and Central provinces. Last year at this time we were still in Community Entry, the 3-month period at the start of a PCV's service in which they are to stay put, make connections and integrate into their community. Next year, we'll have closed our service by the time the bats come to Zambia, so this year – 2011- was our only chance. And here I should give our big thanks to our friend Ashley who made all the arrangements for the trip and allowed us to tag along.

Saturday morning, we got up at 05hrs and by 0530 we were on our way to the taxi “stand” to get a taxi from Mansa to the Musaila junction. At 0545, we were already sweating from the heat. It's that time of year.

We got a ride with a man named ba Peter, who we later learned was a science teacher a Mansa High School. He works as a taxi on the weekends to earn extra cash for his family. He was a very nice gentleman – and an safe driver- and he invited us to stay with him and his family anytime we need a place to stay in Mansa. This is just another example of how friendly and inviting Zambian people can be.

Ba Peter dropped us off a the Musaila junction and as we piled out of his car with all our backpacks, a crowd of amaguys surrounded the car trying to help us get our next ride (their motive is to get a cut of the bus ticket we might buy). Instead of taking the bus, we negotiated a hitch with a man and his son in the back of their large canter. We jumped in and became part of the cargo they were transporting. Although we were just going to Kasanka, the other items were headed for Nkonde in Northern province. The open-air, moderate-speed, roomy hitch was preferable to the crowded, hot, smelly bus. It was also about 15,000 Zkw cheaper per person.

In the back of the canter truck, en route from Musaila to Kasanka. From left to right: Vanessa, Ashley and Garrett.

It was preferable while the canter truck was moving and uncrowded. Somewhere about halfway to our destination, the canter began stopping often to pick up more hitchhikers. With more hitchhikers, you have more people and luggage in the back of the truck- crying children, smelly fish and chickens, drunk men. You also have more people who want to stop at each roadside market to buy fish, vegetables and other items from the banamaayo (women) selling their goods. Shaun was one of those folks who bought fresh fish at the Luapula Bridge- six fish for 20,000 Zkw ($4 USD). At one point, the canter truck was stopping, literally, every kilometer. By then the sun was on the other side and beating down hot on the back of the truck. What seemed like a good hitch turned into a crappy one. This is a basic a rule of life and transport in Zambia: you're luck can change at any time, for better or worse.

Banamayo (women) selling fish at Luapula Bridge.

The back of the canter truck, where we sat for hours on a hitch from Musaila to Kasanka. As you can see, things got much more crowded.

Our favorite quote of the day came from this canter ride, at one of the stops, in Mpelembe in Serenje District. We stopped at a small town to pick up a group of hitchikers. There were a lot of other people at the roadside who were delighted to see mzungus (white people) in the back of the canter. They crowded the canter remarking about the white people (us) in the truck. One of the men greeted us and struck up a conversation. The conversation took what seems like the inevitable turn of him asking us for money. When we asked him why we should give him money he said, “because you are white man and you give every Africans money.”

After six hours in the back of this truck, we finally made it to Kasanka, where we jumped off and ran into the shade as fast as we could. It's worth noting making that same journey in a Landcruiser takes about 2 hours. It's also worth noting that at no time did the bus to Kasanka pass us, which means that we made better time than the folks on the bus. On the bus, maybe we wouldn't have been sitting in the sun, but we also might have been sitting one-and-a-half or two butts to a seat, plus holding our big backpacks- and Shaun's fish- on our laps.

When we got to Kasanka, we checked in at the main entry gate. For 120,000 Zkw ($25 USD) per person, Wasa Lodge sent an open-top jeep to pick us up at the gate and take us to the camp site, about 20km inside the park. We hopped in the jeep and marveled at the comparative luxury- one seat for every person, plus space for our bags and our feet to fit under our seats. The head of the lodge, was the one who picked us up with a warm welcome and drove us in. The ride through the park was beautiful: green, lush, forested, shady, trees forming a canopy across the small dirt road, little purple flowers popping out of the forest floor. We all wondered if this is what our villages looked like decades ago before deforestation's effects became as pronounced as they are today.

On the ride, we saw baboon families galloping on the forest floor and climbing up and down the trees. We stopped at a clearing to see puku and the elusive sitatunga antelope. We even passed a small pack of about 6 warthogs running through the forest.

Finally, we reached the shaded campsite. There is a bathing shelter with a jerry-can-cum-shower, a pit latrine with commode and a nice little insaka to cook and eat food. There was black plastic where the bamboo walls used to be on the pit latrine. A week earlier elephants had come through the campsite and sort of demolished the walls. Oops.

The fancy pit latrine/ long-drop toilet.

The bathing shelter

Our tent in front of the insaka where we'd take shelter from sun/rain or do our cooking/eating.

A view of the pit latrine (foreground) and bathing shelter (background)

The river and pontoon crossing was just a minute-walk away from our campsite. After getting our tents set up, we went to the river to fill our water filter and explore a bit. Within 5 minutes of us arriving at the river crossing and discovering the pontoon, an armed guard (rifle slung on his shoulder) came from the other side of the river to cross. We greeted each other and asked him about elephants. He didn't speak English well and he seemed confused when we tried speaking cibemba with him, so we didn't learning much, other than he'd seen 7 elephants that day.

A view of the road and tracks leading to the pontoon river crossing

Ashley and Garrett onthe pontoon, pulling the platform to the side

A view of the path from our campsite to the pontoon river crossing.

The afternoon had become so hot and we all felt so dirty after our long hitch, we couldn't resist jumping in the water at the pontoon crossing. A couple of us even brought a bar of soap and bathed in the river. Shaun brought his fish down to the river and started cleaning them for dinner. We learned the next day all this was unwise. One of the guards told us there were “plenty” of crocodiles in that river not far from the pontoon. Yikes.

Later in the afternoon, toward dusk, we decided to do some more exploring on the other side of the river. We took a little nature walk along the vehicle path that meanders through the open pastures. We saw a couple herds of puku grazing and being puku, but that was it. In retrospect, we probably just missed running into elephants which is actually a good thing seeing as we were wandering without a guide or armed scout. The sun from the day must have really zapped our decision-making abilities; I truly don't know what we were thinking.

That evening, the guards brought wood and we made a campfire. We made dinner, enjoyed wine from the box we'd dragged along with us, told stories and listened to music from our MP3 player and little portable speakers.

At one point, I heard a splash from the river and then a few minutes later we heard a hippo's call. It was close and I got spooked. I immediately stood up when it called again and one of us pointed out that “hiding in your tent isn't going to give you any protection.” We all had a good laugh and reassured ourselves that the hippos weren't going to come up to our campsite. And, as far as we know, they didn't. However, that night after we all crawled into our tents, we did hear what sounded like the vervet monkeys, baboons or bush babies in the trees above our tents.

We were all very careful not to have any food in our tent, and the food we did have we gathered altogether far from where we were sleeping. We left it on the ground instead of tying it up in a tree, figuring that if we put the food in the trees the monkeys and baboons would be more apt to help themselves. We must have guessed right because when we awoke to next morning, nothing had been disturbed.

The next morning, we all awoke to the early sunlight. We made a fire, boiled eggs and sipped some instant coffee one of us has brought along. We were at our leisure, as our “bat walk” wasn't scheduled until 1400.

At 14:45 (in true Zambian punctuality), our guide showed up at our campsite and we headed out on our trek. We walked through the fields of the park with our guide and an armed scout. We thought we would see elephants, but we just saw their tracks leading to the river. Our friends who had visited Kasanka a few weeks earlier had seen many elephant. We thought we'd see hippo and crocodile in the river, but we just saw water. We did, however, pass several herds of puku and we got close looks at the forest and trees. We came upon one tree that produces a fruit that makes the monkeys and elephants drunk when they eat too much of it. We also passed a research area where a woman is doing research on the baboons who live in the forest of Kasanka. Kasanka is apparently friendly to researchers.

(Pictures to come, when the internet connection improves: PB200089, PB200091, PB200096, PB200097)

As the afternoon grew late and the sun lower in the sky, we came to one of the bat tree hides, the Fibwe Hide. This tree hide was tall- about 20 meters tall if my memory is correct. Imagine climbing 60 feet up a tree on a ladder and to a platform made by Swiss Family Robinson and you'll get an idea of what this was like. Although we'd been told the hide was recently rebuilt after wildfire destruction, the climb up was rickety and long with rusted nails holding termite-worn wooden steps in place. While climbing these, I couldn't help thinking of Shaun's parents nightmare climbing the PCT ladders.

We all took a lot of deep breaths and gave each other encouragement- and we all made it to the top platform where we had a beautiful view. We spent about 20 minutes at the top platform and then decided we'd better head down before it started to get dark. We wanted to get down in the light, but we also wanted to see the bats fly out of the forest at dusk. I learned later than some guides take their clients here in the dark before dawn to see the bats come back to roost in the forest. That further proves my theory on life: it could be worse!

(Pictures to come, when the internet connection improves: PB200099, PB200103, PB200106, PB200120)

After climbing down and congratulating ourselves on surviving unharmed, we headed to the bat viewing spot. This was a small seating area (2 wooden-plank benches) in a field across from the forest where the bats roost. We were told about 8 million bats were roosting in that forest, which is only a few square-acres. We sat and waited for the sun to fall. As we waited, we noticed a slowly swelling sound of rushing water. In fact, that was the sound of millions of bat wings flapping as the bats in the forest got ready to go out for their nightly fruit forage.

(Pictures to come, when the internet connection improves: PB200126)

As the sun got lower and the sky became pink and purple, we could see the bats start circling above the forest where they were roosting. In turn, they'd circle and then fly off into the distance. First there were hundreds, then there were thousands, then there were tens of thousands flying out of the forest and off into the night sky. Below are some pictures, but they don't capture the enormity of the experience. Unfortunately, due to the lack of light, I also wasn't able to capture the bats when their numbers peaked.

(Pictures to come, when the internet connection improves: PB200128, PB200132, PB200133,PB200135, PB200138)

After the bats had all flown out of the forest, over our heads and off into the night, we headed back to our campsite. Fortunately, we got a ride back in the Lodge's jeep. The night ride was actually cold- we covered up as the wind made by our speed in the jeep whished by. Thrilled by the massive numbers of mammals we had just seen, we rode back in good spirits, laughing (with mouths covered due to bugs) and smiling.

We were not looking forward to having to gather wood and start our cooking fire in the dark, but as we got closer to the campsite, we realized that might be a necessity and we started mentally gearing up for it. So, you can imagine our relief to see a warm campfire burning when we did reach our campsite. The guards had started it for us while we were on our Bat Walk.

That night, we made a pot of curry lentils and again enjoyed our boxed wine. It being our last night, we tried to enjoy as much of the wine as we could so as not to let any go to waste... which led to a fun night singing and dancing around the campfire to all manner of songs on the MP3 player. Nevermind about those hippos, crocs and things that go bump in the night, wink.

The next morning came early, but we were ready to head out. The Lodge's jeep came to pick us at the campsite around 0630, which we had requested because we wanted to get an early start on the day of hitchhiking. The jeep came on time and we all piled in to be driven to the Lodge office where we paid for our stay and other charges. The bill was for all of us and came out to near 5,000,000 Zkw ($1,000 USD)- which we expected. Since the largest Zambian note is 50,000 Zkw ($10 USD) we collected a huge pile of money on the counter. We had to count and recount the pile 3 times to make sure we'd got it right- hahaha!

After paying up, we were on our way out to the road. Our driver was a Londoner who was in Zambia and at Kasanka for about 6 weeks to help with the bat migration tourists and tour guiding. He was a friendly, good-humored fellow. What we laughed about was that he stopped every couple minutes on the drive to look up a bird or photograph a flower or tree he saw. On the first day, our ride from the entrance to the campsite was about 30 minutes. This ride out was close to an hour, which normally wouldn't have been a problem, but we were anxious to get out on the road to start hitching. The early hitcher gets a better ride.

Here's the link to our Facebook album for our October 2011 in Zambia:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150536529794896.476304.508904895&type=1&l=8d0b664a51 - Enjoy!

It's hailing, yes hailing, in Mwense this afternoon.

Shaun and I have come down to the boma today to meet with the Mwense District Women's Development Association at their office in the boma. I am sitting in their office now and the hail pounding on the metal-sheet roof is deafening. It's so loud that covering my ears isn't keeping the pain of the noise away. I need to leave the office. Luckily, there is a small walkway outside where I can stand and not get as pelted by the hail as if I were standing under the mango tree outside. This walkway is still under metal sheets, but the sound has somewhere to go, rather than just bouncing around the office walls and into my eardrums.

Even out here on the covered walkway, where all of us have gathered, stray pebble-sized balls of ice pelt us. I am in the middle of this walkway, but Shaun is on the end near You And I Restaurant. He is laughing as he gets hit by the ice pebbles bouncing off You And I Restaurant's roof and onto him. The whole scene is incredible: what was just 20 minutes ago a brown, dusty ground in front of the office is now a wet, puddled clay mud carpeted in ice pebbles, little clear pebbles of ice. And just 20 minutes ago, we were sweating and fanning ourselves due to the typical and very high temperatures the end of dry season brings. Literally, when I arrived to the office after lunch it was over 100F, and now there ice is falling from the sky and covering the ground. During the hailstorm, men hide under the metal sheets at You And I Restaurant

During the hailstorm, a view of the mango tree in front of the MDWDA office in Mwense.

As strange as this seems, it is actually quite normal. It wasn't until the hail started that I realized this same phenomenon happened this time last year. I don't know the scientific reason why the first big, hard rains of rainy season bring hail, but our Zambian friends tell us this happens every year at this time. I see it as is the clashing of seasons: as the hot dry season is coming reluctantly to the end of its reign, rainy season forces its way to power. There are days like today when aging dry season flexes its muscles making it unbearably hot, causing rainy season to respond (to our delight) with a thundering, stormy, cooling downpour. It makes me think of a scene I once saw on a game drive: a lion and an elephant exchanging roars and trumpets as pride and herd passed on a slender riverbank.

Rainy season had better seize that throne, or we're a bit screwed. No rain means no water for gardens, crops and fish ponds, which means no food or income. Rainy season had also better force out dry season because the rain is the only thing that cools things down. And we really need things to cool down- it's really, really hot.

Our counterpart, ba Godfrey, is currently hosting a woman and her infant child at his house. We had met the woman the other night, but she was very hesitant to greet us. We had assumed the woman and child were relatives of ba Godfrey's. It wasn't until yesterday we learned that in fact our counterpart did not know this woman much at all. He'd met her while he was in Mwense boma the other day checking on when fertilizer would be coming in.

The woman lives in Lukwesa, about 35km away. She walked, with bare feet and her baby on her back, to Mwense boma, where she is awaiting the judgment about her husband. A few days ago he was arrested and thrown in jail for (allegedly) stealing goats. Her husband, allegedly, set up trails of maize and other food that would lure goats into his house. As most people in these parts do not house or tie up their goats from May to December, goats roam free. So eventually, some goats came across the food laid out for them and followed it straight into the man's house. When the goats were inside, the man would shut the door and lock them in. Then, he slaughtered the goats for food to eat or sell.

Ba Godfrey told us that in Zambian culture, if he meets someone in need of shelter for a night, he must help that person by providing a place to sleep for a night or two, if he has one. Ba Godfrey and his family are good, generous people so they naturally offered this woman a place to sleep at their home in Chebele while she waits for the judgment against her husband. The judgment should come in the next couple days, and then she'll head back to her home Lukwesa.

I should add that in Zambian tradition, while ba Godfrey and his family have the social obligation to take in strangers in need, they also have the prerogative of saying, “OK, we've hosted you a few days. Next time you need a place to stay, you need to ask another family in the community because we can't support you all the time. We have our own family to support, house and feed.” When ba Godfrey added this bit to the end of his story, I thought it sounded quite reasonable and reminded me once again of the practical side of Zambian culture.

Today was supposed to be the third and final of a Poultry Production Workshop we're facilitating for a Women's Group (at Road's Camp just outside Mwense boma). Sadly, tragedy has struck so we've postponed today's meeting until after the Independence Day holiday (24 October). We learned this morning that the mother of one of the women in the group had passed away sometime in the night. So, the family and community is grieving today. They will hold the funeral today and bury the woman's body this afternoon. I don't know what caused the woman's death, but perhaps solace can be found in that she was a mature woman who'd lived a full life, able to watch her children grow into adults and have families and children of their own.

Today is Friday, and since the week began we've learned each day of the death of a loved one of folks we know here. Perhaps most startling have been those deaths of a baby and a young girl here in Chebele.

On Monday, a friend ba Sally^, who lives in Mwense Central, stopped to greet us on her way to visit her granddaughter, who lives on the other side of our community. The girl was about 13 years old and attended Grade 5 at Chebele Basic School. She had been suffering for 7 years from tapeworm. Her symptoms started with pain in her stomach and grew pain throughout her body and she was now unable to eat or drink.

For most of those 7 years, the girl's parents refused to go to the Mwense Stage II Clinic just 5 km away. They preferred to use traditional medicine and practices to help their daughter. Unfortunately, these did not cure her. Finally, after years, the family took their daughter to the Mwense Stage II Clinic, only to find that at that point the tapeworm had grown so strong there was nothing the clinic could do. The clinic staff scolded the family for not bringing the girl in much sooner. The girl's condition and prognosis were so poor that the clinic staff refused to refer the girl to Mansa General Hospital, saying there was nothing that could be done there for the girl either.

On Monday when our friend visited her granddaughter, the girl was still alive. On Tuesday, we returned home from our programs in the evening to a grieving community because the girl had passed away.

On Thursday, we returned home in the afternoon to learn that a funeral was in progress for a year-old boy who'd died early that morning. We asked what had caused the death, but our neighbor said he didn't know. Just then, the funeral procession passed by our house. The procession looked to have been 40-50 men, and at the head of the group were three men carrying a small coffin, about a meter long and covered in a blue and orange chitenge. They were singing in Cibemba as they walked to the cemetery in Chebele to bury the coffin. As they passed, we all sorrowfully sat down, following Zambian custom, to show our respect for the dead and for the grieving family.

Typically, it is the role of the men to build, carry and bury the coffin during a funeral ceremony. It is the women's role is to gather with the bereaved family around the dead body, either inside the family's home or in a church, crying and wailing together. Unfortunately, Shaun and I have attended several funerals in our village, and I can tell you from experience it is a sad, sad thing. It's also a bit jarring for a westerner because the Zambian customs surrounding funerals and grieving are so different from ours. It seems the grief that we westerners internalize or process quietly over a period of time, Zambians externalize and process loudly, together, for just the day of the funeral and then life seems to go “back to normal.”

^ ba Sally is not our friend’s true name. I have changed it here to preserve her anonymity.

Welcome! Today's blog update is brought to you from the comfort of our little house in Chebele village. It's about 10:30a and Shaun and I are just puttering about today- quite typical of our free days in the village. I am able to type up this blog entry thanks the long battery life on our handy little netbook, and also thanks to our “Zam-tricity” set-up. We have a car battery that we charge each month in the boma, and when I hook up our inverter and plug the netbook into the inverter, I am able to maintain a charge and use the computer. Cisuma saana! (“Very good!” in Cibemba)

I've spent the morning tackling the mountain of laundry we have spilling out of the dirty laundry Zam-bag, which is like a big re-usable grocery bag that zips up, hanging on the wall. (I hang it on the wall to keep creepy-crawlies and slitherers out. So far, so good.) I do all our laundry by hand, a chore I enjoy because it gives me some quiet down time (Shaun is usually elsewhere when laundry-time comes around, hahaha!). Also, splashing and scrubbing in the buckets of water keeps me cool on our hot, hot days. I am also lucky because we have little helpers always ready and willing to earn 500 Zkw (10 US cents) to fetch me a container of water, so I don't have to trudge back and forth to the stream with the laundry.

After washing and rinsing the laundry, I hang it out on the line to dry in the bright sunshine and warm breeze coming over the forested hills behind our house. The remaining, dirty water I dump out on the dry, sandy area of our front “yard” to help keep the dust down. If there are little ones around, sometimes we joke with them that it's “infula” (“rain” in Cibemba), and Shaun and I will sprinkle the water on them. The kids scatter as the giggle with delight. Last week, I did laundry was on an exceptionally hot day, so when we played “infula” it turned into a huge, hilarious water fight between Shaun and an army of kids from the village. We must have had 25 children running around our house laughing and splashing water on each other- and especially at Shaun. They were even running to the stream and back to get “ammunition”- it was great!

Shaun and I, with the help of our friends fellow PCV Jessica and Zambian counterpart ba Chastity, facilitated a 3-day Poultry Workshop for a Women's Group at Road's Camp in Mwense boma. This group of consists of about 20 women who live in the Road's Camp community. The women are mostly married women, but there are four who are unmarried- none are widows. Ba Chastity introduced us to the group a couple weeks ago. She arranged an introductory meeting where we all met and discussed the group's activities, needs and how Shaun and I can help. In our meeting, we learned the following:The group has been keeping broiler chickens for sale for under a year, perhaps just six months, but they have never been formally trained on keeping broilers and the business thereof. They purchased the chickens (about 150 to start) and raised their start-up capital (for initial feed, opening a bank account, building houses, etc.) through a loan provided by a local government office (I believe the Office of Community Development).On their first round, they purchased 150 chickens and necessary commercial feed from Mansa, raised the broilers for 6 weeks and then sold them for 30,000 Zkw ($6 USD) each. The group said they lost a lot of money on their initial round for 2 major reasons: selling on credit and spending too much on feed.

When they sold on credit they found that many folks simply did not follow through on payment. So essentially, they gave away for free chickens that were sold on credit. The group learned a very valuable lesson with this and has since enacted a policy where they do not sell on credit. They sell on a cash basis now which seems to be working well.

While the group was able to solve their first problem, they were stumped as to how to solve the feed problem. They knew they were spending too much money on feed, which they have transported up from Mansa. However, they were also unsure how to cutback, or if they reasonably could, without damaging their product- the chickens.

Based on this information, Shaun and I designed a workshop around the basic necessary knowledge about keeping broilers and how to resolve the business problems they were facing. The women asked that the workshop be facilitated over 3 morning sessions, and Shaun and I had an 3-day opening in our schedule the following week.

To ensure maximum participation, we let the women set the schedule, knowing our availability, and they decided upon the following Wednesday-Friday 08hrs to 12hrs. Having worked in Zambia for over a year now, I was a bit skeptical about the 08hrs start time, as it seems things never really get started until 09hrs or 10hrs. Nonetheless, we agreed, understanding that the women may need more flexibility when the workshop actually happens. Afterall, they have households to run, husbands to ready and feed before work, and children to bathe, dress and feed before school.

Shaun and I with the women's group in front of their very nice chicken house.

Fast-forward now to the following Wednesday: the first day of our workshop... We arrived at 08hrs at the compound where a few of the women stay. We found only to find 3 women present, but busy sweeping and dressing children- not at all ready to begin the day's workshop. I laughed to myself, as Shaun, Jessica and Chastity and I took a seat in the classroom and pleasantly chatted amongst ourselves until the whole group had arrived. We started at 09:20.

This wasn't a problem for us, and I do not mean to present a negative image of the ladies. I point it out only to provide an illustration of how Time is a very different thing in the U.S. than it is here in Zambia. I have also had Zambians arrive at 07hrs for meeting that isn't scheduled to begin until 08:30. I believe the term for the way Zambians view time is “polychronic”.

Anyway, at 09:20 we launched into our Poultry Workshop. As is customary, we took the next 10 minutes setting the time table for the workshop, so everyone present can agree more realistically on what they can commit to. We decided we'd meet Wednesday to Friday from 09hrs to 12hrs and we elected Irene^, one of the women, as timekeeper. Then we spent another 10 minutes coming up with the “norms”, or rules, we'll follow during our workshop: phones on low volume or vibrate; reduce classroom movements; respect everyone's contributions; keep time; speak through the chair (which is the equivalent of raising your hand to speak).

Following this, Shaun launched into a “theory” session about chicken nutrition, housing, egg-layers, laying periods and cycles, using your own layers to produce your next generation of laying hens, etc. After the “theory” session, we went out to the chicken house to observe the groups' current feeding regime so we could make recommendations the following day. We observed the women filling a bucket of feed and then filling the feeders, which hang down from rafters in the chicken house, until each feeder was full. However, they did not measure out the feed to know how much they were providing our how much filled the feeders.

Thursday we were on schedule, starting just after 09hrs. We started the day with a “practical” session on daily feed requirements and measuring the feed given to the chickens. Using the Agromisa and CTA guidelines for small-scale chicken-rearing in Africa, we calculated that their flock would need 15kg of feed per day. So, we decided they will need to measure out 15kg of feed per for each day. This is a change from their previous, non-standardized method of simply filling the feeders until full.

To measure the feed, I taught the women how to measure out their feed using a “village scale.” This is my favorite trick to teach rural Zambians- it is so simple to create and learn, and people seem to feel empowered to learn it. All you need is:

a liter of watera lightweight container for the watera stick strong enough to balance 1 kg on either sidea fulcrum of some kind (chair back, post, etc.)a plastic bag to hold whatever you're trying to measure.

Since 1 liter of water weighs 1kg, you fill your lightweight water bottle with 1 liter of water. Then you hang it on one end of your stick. Using the chairback or post as your fulcrum, hang the plastic bag on the other end of the stick, and then fill the bag with what your measuring, in our case, chicken feed. When the liter of water and the plastic bag balance, you've got 1kg of feed! If you want to measure more than 1kg at a time, use a bigger lightweight water container, more liters of water and a bigger stick (wink).

Measuring feed using a "village scale"

Measuring feed using a "village scale". That's my excited mzungu hand saying "we've reached balance!"

This addressed the women's problem of giving the chickens too much feed, thus losing a lot of profit. They brought out their normal feed daily ration, and we measured 15kg from that. There was an enormous mound leftover, which represents wasted food, and their wasted profit. The women were very excited to see this very tangible illustration of why they were losing money and how to solve the problem. They understood the scale and measuring really well; they were all smiles at the end of the lesson!

After this, we moved back into the classroom for a lesson on record-keeping. Record-keeping is essential to running a successful business, big or small, and it is a skills very few in Zambia understand and practice. We talked about keeping 2 types of records for the group's operations: daily records and financial records. The daily records record daily activities and other things that relate to the daily operations of the poultry business: feedings, illness, vaccinations, inspections, other official visits, flock size, etc. The financial records record expenditures, sales, other income, and provide the group's financial balance.

To get the group started right away, I purchased 2 notebooks in Mwense boma for 10,000 Zkw ($2 USD) each and gave them to the group. As Peace Corps Volunteers, we provide knowledge, not things or money, as a means of contributing to sustainable development. So, I do not usually give things to the people and groups we work with, but I didn't want these women to have any excuse for not keeping records! The women were very appreciative, clapping and whooping and thanking us for the workbooks. It was a very warm feeling.

This session led us up to noon, when we knock off for the day. The women were so impressed with the lessons they treated us to a delicious lunch of “ubwali wa mataba” (maize nshima), ifisahi (vegetables, in this case bean leaves and African eggplant, cooked with pounded groundnut meal), and rape (a green leafy vegetable, usually pan-cooked with oil, tomatoes and onions). As we were their guests of honor, the women prepared the meal for us and set a table in the nicest room in the house, the dining room, and left us to eat by ourselves. Meanwhile they all ate together sitting on a reed mat in an entirely separate room. This is the custom popularly observed in rural Zambia- men and guests of honor eat in the nicest room or place available, while the women and children eat together, usually sitting on the floor, in another room.

Sadly, our session Friday was cancelled because the mother of a woman in the group had died in the night. So, the family and community is in grief. They will hold the funeral today and bury the woman's body this afternoon. I don't know what caused the woman's death, but perhaps solace can be found in that she was a mature woman who'd lived a full life, able to watch her children grow into adults and have families and children of their own. We have planned to resume and wrap up our workshop with a session on Business Planning and Cashflow Management in November, when Shaun and I have time available once again in our calendar.

^ real name not used to preserve anonymity.

* * *Shaun and I are in Chebele to promote and teach rural aquaculture, but I find there is as much a need in this area to educate folks about keeping chickens. It still amazes me how many people here keep chickens yet seem to have little understanding of how to fully utilize them. Chickens are very popular to eat and to keep, even to buy and sell, but what in The States we'd consider basic knowledge is lacking here.

No one in our village sells or eats eggs, which are a great source of protein, fats and vitamins- things noticeably and detrimentally lacking from local diets. There are no chicken houses in our village, and these could easily be built out of locally available material (sticks and grass, the same things they use to make insaka roofs and bathing shelters). These houses would provide a localized place for hens to nest, allowing easy egg collection, and for collecting manure to use on fields, gardens and in fishponds. Many free-roaming chickens are snatched by predator chicken hawks or die from Newcastle disease, for which there is a free vaccine available at the Ministry of Livestock district office just 4 km away. However, the vaccine is not widely administered. Last year, a pastor in the boma lost 39 of his 40 chickens to Newcastle disease- that's 39 nutritious family dinners or 1.17M Zkw ($234 USD) when sold at market price of 30,000 Zkw ($6 USD) each.

Another notion has occurred to me in facilitating these chicken workshops and analyzing the business of keeping chickens, especially broilers. Granted, poultry rearing is slightly more capital-intensive than fish farming. However, keeping broilers seems less labor-intensive than fish farming, and selling a batch of broilers every 6 weeks seems to bring in more household income, and more often, than fish farming- which runs on a 6-month harvest cycle. So, while there is a higher barrier to entry (i.e. more start-up capital required) to a small broiler operation, the resulting profitability for keeping broilers is much higher per cycle and per year than keeping fish on the village level.

This is not at all to say that fish farming should be abandoned. Fish are a very popular relish (i.e. side dish to the staple nshima) and there is no end to demand for it. Zambians LOVE their fish! (Slightly more than they love to eat chicken). Also, fish present a varied source of protein, vitamins and minerals that is important to the Zambian diet. I just mean to point out that perhaps the rural populations could be well served by putting more effort into poultry training than we currently see in our community.

Ba Kelvin's new business has made me also ponder the secondhand industry in the United States. Back in the U.S., I made regular donations to the Goodwill GoodNeighbor Stores in Fullerton and Brea, an example set by my Grandma Pat. I would donate “old” clothes, shoes, small kitchen items and other household goods I had purchased but grown tired of or wanted to replace with something new- or I just realized I'd accumulated too much stuff to fit in closets, cabinets and pantries. When I was a student or otherwise on a tight budget, I shopped Goodwill's GoodNeighbor Stores for clothing, furniture, kitchen supplies- even party decorations.

While seeing the validity in criticisms of Goodwill, there are still several things I like about it: it seems to provide services to many factions of American society. First, it's a place for wealthier Americans to discard unwanted, gently used stuff accumulated through impulse purchases, gifts, and a general addiction to “consumption” or “buying things we don't need”. This has become an fascinating and inextricable part of American culture, psychology and economy that to knock or condone would be an entirely different blog entry.

Secondly, donations to Goodwill, and the resulting revenue, provide local employment at GoodNeighbor Stores for folks of limited skills and who haven't found employment elsewhere. At the stores I've shopped, some of employees are disabled and others older folks bridging the gap between income and expenses. Reflecting on it now, I imagine these folks had limited employment opportunity, but bills and expenses like the rest of us. And besides the financial resources employment brings, we all at some level crave the sense of empowerment and accomplishment found in employment.

Goodwill stores also present a low-cost option for low-income community members- struggling familes, students, pensioners, etc.- to purchase basics and even little luxuries.

Additionally, the unwanted items donated to Goodwill are things not going into landfills, which have become overburdened in many parts of the U.S. Thus, Goodwill provides a recycling service! Goodwill's website states that it, “receive[s] more than 500,000 donations every year and divert[s] over 13 million pounds of goods away from local landfills.”

Finally, there are the things donated to Goodwill, yet that do not sell. According the Goodwill's website, these items: “are sold to salvage merchants who ship the material to third-world countries where jobs and wages are created through sorting and selling these items.” And this circles back to our friend ba Kelvin and his new success as a “salaula” retailer.

In fact, at any market in Zambia, from Lusaka to Mwense boma to Lukwesa, you'll see secondhand clothing being sold and quite a lot of it. Here in Zambia, secondhand clothing, or “salaula”, has become an industry of serious economic importance, as evidenced in ba Kelvin's recent success. Critics of the development of this industry in the developing world claim that the availability secondhand clothing from the developed world suppresses and eventually destroys local textile industries. Perhaps Zambia serves as a case point: secondhand clothing is very popular here and the textile industry, as I understand it, is effectively defunct.

During Pre-Service Training, my Peace Corps Cibemba Language-Culture Facilitator, ba Golden, taught me that “salaula” comes from the Cibemba word “ukusala” (to chose, to select). “Salaula” refers to the secondhand clothing one buys in the market- one must rummage through a pile of clothing and chose the pieces he wants to buy.

Here in rural Zambia, everyone in our village wears salaula, as does everyone is all the other villages I've visited. It's very popular- we often see adults and children alike wearing T-shirts from small American sports teams, 5k runs, or schools. In Mansa, I once passed a youth wearing a “Newport Swimming” sweatshirt. Our friend ba Frinch's favorite shirt is a green polo shirt with an anchor and the name Ron embroidered in gold. Even as I type this, there is a group of children playing “njuka” (cards) on our front patio. They are all wearing salaula: a faded, torn “Hornets '08” T-shirt; a drab-colored children's U.S. Army T-shirt with big holes around the collar; a ragged, torn nightshirt (worn as a dress) that says “Some Bunny Loves Me”; a yellow “Belle” Halloween costume dress that now is held together by a few threads at the seams. These are salaula items that have likely been passed down from big sister/brother to younger.

Now, all this secondhand clothing in Zambia certainly does not come solely from Goodwill, but I'd wager a significant portion does. There is a book on this topic which I am interested in reading: Salaula- The World of Second-hand Clothing and Zambia, by Karen Tranberg Hansen (ISBN-10: 0226315819, ISBN-13: 9780226315812). If anyone has an extra copy lying around, feel free to send it my way. Of course, I will keep browsing the salaula book stands for the title, as well.

Our good friend, ba Kelvin, stopped by our house today to tell us that he has moved from our village, Chebele, where he was raised, to Lukwesa, another small town in Mwense District about 35km from Mwense boma. Kelvin is single, about 23 years old, finished Grade 12 a couple years ago, speaks great English, and is very intelligent. Despite all these fine characteristics, he did not score well enough on his exams to be admitted into college, the main path to formal employment. So, he has moved to Lukwesa and started his own business selling secondhand clothing, called “salaula” here in Zambia.

He is doing surprisingly well: he confided in us that he's bringing in 1 million Zkw a week ($200 USD), 300,000 – 500,00 ($60 – 100 USD) of which is “profit”. By “profit”, he means revenue above all expenses, excluding his own labor; like many small businesses in Zambia, he does not consider his own labor as an expense. That said, he's making more money than a Peace Cirps Volunteer earns from his stipend, which is commeasurate with what a school teacher earns.

Kelvin earns his money by travelling to Lusaka where he buys secondhand clothing from mostly Chinese, Indian and Zambian merchants at Kamwala Market. Kamwala Market is the huge open-air market in Lusaka where all manner of goods are exchanged. Kelvin visits different “salaula” merchants there and picks out clothing he thinks the people of Lukwesa and Mwense will want to buy. He spends about 500,000 to 700,000 ($100 – 140 USD) on clothing- shirts, dresses, skirts, trousers, shoes, etc. Then, he transports his merchandise up to Lukwesa (by Peace Soldier or Juldan buses), where he sells the clothing at the Lukwesa market. His customers are mostly fellow Zambians who live in Lukwesa and nearby villages, Mwense boma (the capital of Mwense District) and Kazembe. He also has a large Congolese customer base who cross the border (the Luapula River) at Lukwesa to purchase goods for less than they cost in DR Congo. These Congolese customers either use the items for themselves or they turn around and sell them for a profit in DR Congo.

I find this story of Kelvin's recent success very encouraging- as does he!- because Kelvin comes from a large, poor, not-politically-connected family in an impoverished rural village. Just eight months ago, after he did not get into the trade college in Mansa, he seemed to have resigned himself to being “just a farmer”- his words.- as that was the only other way of life he'd been exposed to. However, now he's widened his view and his perception of what's possible for him.

I think the secret to Kelvin's ambition, creativity and success comes from his father. Kelvin's father, ba Godfrey, is a pioneering and committed fish farmer in Chebele. He is quick to take on modest experiments with new income-generating farming practices (like conservation farming, rice farming, fish farming and beekeeping) and then scale them up as he sees their profitability. He is also one of the few fathers ensuring every one of his 7 living children are educated through Grade 12, which means he works very seriously to raise money for school fees. He is faithful to his wife and family, abstains from alcohol (“problem” drinking is an underaddressed issue in Zambia), and is constantly seeking information about nutrition, HIV/AIDS prevention, sanitation and other issues that ail the community.

I look at Kelvin's budding entrepreneurship and see an evolution of ba Godfrey's diligent commitment to build a better life for his children. This, along with his positivity, is the foundation Kelvin, consciously or not, has used to build his business. He is not hindered by obstacles, but encouraged to find alternative opportunities. Starting his salaula business is a case in point- rather than giving up on a career when he could not get into college, he has created his own employment- and found himself on a path that could potentially bring more prosperity and freedom than working for someone else would.

When we were back in The States last, we got a lot of questions about how we get around Zambia and how we get to our village. So, I thought I'd tell you about our latest transport adventure this past week traversing the country, from south to north.

When planning our travel time, we give ourselves 1 full day for each leg our trip. In this case, we gave ourselves 4 full days to travel from Livingstone and Victoria Falls at the southern tip of Zambia to Mwense in Luapula Province in the north of Zambia. Our plan looked like this:

Monday, Day 1: Livingstone to Lusaka (capital city)Tuesday, Day 2: Lusaka to Serenje (Central Province)Wednesday, Day 3: Serenje to Mansa (capital of Luapula Province)Thursday, Day 4: Mansa to Mwense and then to our village, Chebele

Often, we don't need as much time as we a lot for our travel, but we've learned after a year here that anything can happen so it's best to allow yourself time for contingencies.

On Sunday afternoon, Shaun went into town (Livingstone) and bought us tickets for Mazhandu Bus Company's “luxury class” bus to Lusaka leaving Monday morning at 09:00 and arriving in Lusaka around 15:00. This exceptional Zambian bus company is safe, clean, comfortable, on-time and requires tickets to be purchased and seats reserved a day in advance (all of which is a refreshing rarity in Zambia). Tickets for this trip were 100,00 Zkw (about $20USD) each.

We could hitchhike from Livingstone up to Lusaka instead of paying for a bus ticket because there is a lot of transport/traffic on that road. However, so far we've enjoyed the certainty of riding Mazhandu. We know we have a reserved seat on transport that departs at 09:00, which means we can have a relatively leisurely morning with breakfast rather than having to get to the road by 06:00 to flag down vehicles. We also know the bus will take us all the way to our destination (Lusaka, or even further north to Kapiri-Mposhi or Ndola), compared to the crap-shoot of hitching, where we may need to hop in several vehicles to get to Lusaka. Lastly, we feel pretty comfortable and safe in Mazhandu buses. But again, let me stress this is one of the rare instances where we prefer taking a bus in Zambia over hitchhiking. I'll go into this more in a bit.

So, on Monday we awoke around 07:00 to thunder and rain, finished packing up, breakfasted leisurely and sipped our tea, caught up on the morning's news. At 08:30, we strolled from Jollyboys Backpackers over to the bus station. We bought some cheap and fresh oranges, apples and bananas from the stand next to the bus, placed a small bag in the luggage storage under the bus, boarded and took our reserved seats. At 08:50, the bus driver honked the horn in a “all aboard” warning call. At 08:55, the conductor made sure the last 2 passengers who weren't already on the bus were herded on and into their seats. At 09:00 we were on our way as it lightly showered outside. We passed the time reading the news on our phones, watching the countryside villages and farms of Southern Province go by, cat-napping and reliving our adventure in Chobe National Park. At just after 15:00, we rolled into the bustle of Lusaka Inter-City Bus Station.

Upon arriving to Lusaka, we de-boarded the bus struggling through a small army of taxi drivers crowding the door to be the first to greet passengers and snag some business. We grabbed our small bag from under the bus and began negotiating with taxi drivers as we walked out of the station. We talked to 6 or 7 taxi drivers before one accepted our price of 25,000 Zkw ($5USD) to take us to Manda Hill, the very big and very “western” fancy shopping mall in Lusaka. There we treated ourselves to a burger, salad and iced coffee at the restaurant Mugg N Bean- yum!

Our next stop was Mogal Guesthouse where we spent the night. Mogal is convenient because there is usually a room available (albeit pricy at 100,000 to 150,000 Zkw per night), and it is close to the Peace Corps office, bunkhouse and Volunteer Lounge as well as various grocery stores and restaurants. Mogal also has a karaoke rooms that are a lot of fun. We could have requested to stay for free with one of the Lusaka households that participates in Peace Corps' Lusaka Homestay program. However, that required a level of forward-thinking we were lacking and Shaun likes Mogal because there is a puppy there he can play with.

Tuesday morning, we awoke at 06:00, showered, packed up and we checked out and on the road hailing a taxi by 06:30. The taxi took us to the petrol station near Olympic Stadium on the north side of Lusaka. We grabbed some buns and softies, and we stood at the side of the road for an hour trying to flag down a vehicle to take us 4 hours north to the Kapiri-Mposhi junction. Of the 40-50 vehicles that passed us, a handful stopped while most went by either not acknowledging us or signaling that they were just staying local. Most of those who stopped we either not going as far as Kapiri-Mposhi or they wanted too much money to take us (one driver suggested the unreasonable amount of 120,000 Zkw- $14USD- each for the ride; we declined and walked away).

Around 07:30 a graying Zambian man in a clean, well-maintained Toyota Hulux headed to Ndola pulled over and invited us to join him to Kapiri-Mposhi. He was alone in the vehicle and there was plenty of room for us and our bags in the backseat. The man, we learned, was named ba Boas; he is a medical doctor educated at University of Zambia in Lusaka and now living and working in Botswana. He is well-traveled, having visited and lived in several European countries and African countries. He grew up in Lusaka and his parents, though of very modest means, tried to give him western-style education and very much encouraged him in school. We had a wonderful ride with him, discussing the differences in American and Zambian cultures, methods of education, even parenting. The hitch transformed into a fascinating culture exchange- one of the many reasons we prefer hitching to riding the bus.

There are other benefits to hitchhiking instead of taking a bus, aside from rich cultural exchange and good networking opportunities. When hitching on more well-traveled roads we often can get rides in newer and maintained cruisers or trucks. Buses are usually old, beat-up, over-packed and overweight. Buses also tend to break down and it's very unlikely for passengers to have tickets refunded. When hitching, we talk to our driver when negotiating the ride which also allows us to gauge his state of sobriety. We hardly ever get a chance to know who is driving a bus we're on until we are on the road- and intoxicated driving is a problem we've seen in Zambia. Lastly, hitches are often free or a small cost, whereas with buses one must pay, whether the bus makes make it to your destination or not. Our friends found this out the hard way about 6 months ago when their bus broke down in the middle of the night. They were forced to sleep on the side of the road in the bus and start hitching at first light the next morning 900+ kilometers to Mansa.

But I digress...

After getting dropped in Kapiri-Mposhi we got the name and number of our new friend to connect with him if we find ourselves in Botswana again. We had lunch at the shwarma stand and then got back on the road to hitch again. We'd figured we hitch a ride to Serenje, a couple hours north of Kapiri-Mposhi, and then stay the night in Serenje. And after a short time after getting to the road, a South African miner friend of ours, who we'd gotten a ride with back in July, drove by and stopped to give us a lift to Serenje. So, we hopped in the back of his truck and away we went.

It wasn't until stopping at the petrol station in Mkushi that our friend mentioned he was driving all the way to Mansa, and he'd be happy to bring us all the way back to the Peace Corps Provincial House in Mansa. This was a big win for us. Not a lot of traffic heads to Luapula Province or Mansa which means we usually end up waiting a long, long time at the turn-off to Luapula (called Tuta or “potato” junction). So, we usually plan to stay a night in Serenje so we don't risk being stuck at that empty junction anytime near dark. In fact, this last time when we came up we saw a total of 7 vehicles on that road- counting vehicles going BOTH directions.

So, we rode with our friend Leigh from Kapiri-Mposhi 6 hours to Mansa. Leigh is a very good, safe driver, so we got a free, safe, ride up to Mansa, arriving a day early. It was great! And today we head up about 110km north to Mwense, by bus, and then hike up about 5km to our village, Chebele.

To celebrate my birthday, Shaun and I went on a 3-day, 2-night safari in Chobe National Park in Botswana. it was amazing! Check out our pictures here:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150484881604896.465722.508904895&l=2e4d55169e&type=1

On Sunday, we arrived in Lusaka after spending a week in Chipembi (a rural area just outiside of Lusaka) serving as Resource PCVs for the RAP'11 Pre-Service Training (RAP = Rural Aquaculture Promotion). On Monday, we had dental appointments, so we'd planned to stay in Lusaka Monday night and then head back to our site in Luapula Tuesday.

Our Tuesday plans changed, however, when we learned that the Leave Request we had submitted earlier in teh month was actually approved, something we had sort of given up on. So,the remainder of Monday was spent making eservations and buying our bus tickets for Livingstone. And Tuesday morning,we boarded a bus, not north for Mansa, but headed the opposite direction south to Livingstone- which is where I'm typing the blog entry.

We paid 120,000 Zkw (about $24 USD) each for a seat on Mazhandu's Luxury Class bus departing Lusaka at 09hrs and arriving in Livingstone about 15hrs. While we could presumably hitch down for much less, w e like this bus company and the bus ride. The seats are comfortable, there is AC, your seat is reserved for you, and they sell just one ticket per seaton teh bus (instead of packing us in like sardines).

At 15hrs we rolled into Livingstone, got off the bus and walked just 5 minutes to Jollyboys Backpackers. Despite no availability online the day before,we were able to get a private double room (shared bathroom) for 2 nights for about $34 USD a night. We really like Jollyboys because it is affordable, clean, and has a fun, young atmosphere. The meals are decent and there is a decent bar. We stayed at Jollyboys last Easter when we came down with a group of fellow PCVs we serve with in Luapula.

Now it is Wednesday, and we've had a spectacular day. When we got into Jollyboys Backpackers on Tuesday, our friend ba Mwenda (at reception) helped us sign up for a Guided Tour of Devil's Pool at the edge of Victoria Falls. The tour cost about $65USD per person, not a trifle sum but within our current budget.

We left around 10hrs and headed toward town. We hailed every taxi we saw offering them 30,000 Zkw ($6USD) to take us to the Royal Livingstone, the starting point of our 10:30hrs Devil's Pool Tour started. We stopped 3 cabs who initialy wanted 40,000 Zkw ($8USD) but would only go as low as 35,000 ($7USD).

Finally, we got to town where dozens, literally, of taxis we parked idle. There, we found ba Waxson, who agreed to take us to the Royal Livingstone for 30,000 ZKW ($6USD). One of the hallmarks of the PCV expereince is hagglingover 5,000 ZKW ($1USD), or often less, becasue when you earn local currency (we are paid in Zambian kwacha, not USD), every bit makes a difference. So,it was a win-win: we saved 10,000 Zkw ($2USD) and ba Waxson got some business on a very slow day.

Upon arriving at the Royal Livingstone, we walked through reception to the expansive patio, pool and green manicured field that looks out onto the Zambezi River. The Royal Livingstone is elegance itself and if you take a look at it's website here you'll see what I mean. (And since one pays about $900USD per night, it very well should be.)

We met our tour group of 6 on the bank of the Zambezi. We were ourselves and a very pleasant Austrailian family of 4, along with our guide, ba Kelvin. We all boarded a small outboard boat and strapped on life-jackets. I couldn't help but laugh at wearing a life-jacket. It wouldn't protect me from the most dangerous aspect of this river- the crocs and hippos swimming about. But I strapped it on nonetheless and off we were. We zigzagged along, around shallow rocks and tiny islands populated by cormorants sunning themselves. We passed a pod of hippos and even saw a lone elephant on the river bank across from us.

The ride was short and took us out to a small island in the middle of the Zambezi and close to the edge of the falls.On the island were a rustic yet civilized "Loo with a View", changing rooms and even a kitchen and shaded dining area. We got off the boat and hiked along, passing these among the trees and vegetation, until we reached the end of the island near the edge. There, we saw Devil's Pool, about 25 meters from the island and at the very edge of the drop into the deep gorge. Whoa.

The river current was gentle, as it is now dry season and the rains stopped about 6 months ago. So, our group changed into their "bathing costumes" as they are called here and readied ourselves for swimming. Since this was an impromptu trip for Shaun and I, we didn't have our suits, so we just went in wearing our clothes. Since it was so hot and dry, we figured our clothes would be dry by the time we finshed the tour.

We entered the shallow water carefully to avoid the shallow rocks and swam across the current to another group of rocks. Then we did it again to reach Devil's Pool. The water was refreshing, but not cold. Devil's Pool is about 3meters deep and 3 wide. It stops just inchs from the drop-off int the gorge and is just meters away from the main waterfall.We all jumped into the pool, sat on the edge, even peered ver the edge to see vibrant ranbows and watch the water cascade down the long drop to met with itself again at the bottom of the gorge diving Zambia and Zimbabwe. We were on he Zambia a side and culd see the folks on the Zimbabwean side of the gorge taking pictures and generally pointing at us, the crazy fools swimming a the edge. It was quite an adrenaline rush!

After abut 20minutes of swimming and taking it all in, we swam back to the island and hiked to breakfast. We were treated to a large wooden table and chairs (for 12 people), white china and elegant flatware and delicious coffee. We chatted with each other over eggs benedict and fruit muffins.

After breakfast, we hiked back to the small boat and once again zig-zagged back to the Royal Livingstone. Shaun and I decided to take advantage of the oportunity to relax at the bar there, overlooking the Zambezi. Shaun ordered a Mosi (Zambian beer) and I ordered a Pimm's Cocktail, which together came out to 55,000 Zkw ($11USD) - quite a lot for Zambia, but well worth it! We sat in luxurious chaises lounges under large shade trees and watched the river flow by. Just 50 meters in front f the bar a pod of hippos was swimming about. We watched a crocodile sail by and then sun himself on the penninsula about 10 meters from the bar. In the distance, we could see a enormous plume of "smoke" billow up from where the river poured over the edge and into the deep gorge.It was magical and we spent all afternoon there.

We are now back at Jollyboys Backpackers for the night. We'll dine here, enjoy some Zambian beer and South African wine and call it an early night. Tomorrow will start early, as we depart Jollyboys at 07hrs for a 3-day Tent Safari in Chobe National Park just on the other side of the Zambia-Botswana border. This all-inclusive trip costs $360perperson. We've been saving up for months for this and we are very excited!

Until next time, stay well everyone!

PS- Sorry for the typos- the keyboard on this computer sucks

As many of you know, Shaun and I returned to California recently to spend time with my mother, who is very ill. We returned to Zambia and Luapula earlier this month (July 2011) to warm welcomes. The link below shows our July 2011 in pictures. Enjoy!

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150390473639896.440717.508904895&l=335221db55&type=1

A total lunar eclipse occurred 15 June 2011. I've read it was in full view in eastern Africa. Presumably our village would have been an ideal vantage point, as there is no light pollution. But alas, we missed it because at the moment we are in southern California visiting family. Oh well, maybe next time!

Here's a link to more information and pictures about the eclipse:

http://www.space.com/11984-photos-total-lunar-eclipse-june-2011-skywatchers.html

http://www.geek.com/articles/geek-cetera/100-minute-lunar-eclipse-coming-wednesday-north-americans-will-miss-out-20110615/

Shaun and I recently watched an inspiring film about women in Samfya, Luapula Province, Zambia: "Where the Water Meets the Sky". There is a lake in this area, Lake Bangweulu which means "where the water meets the sky." I encourage all to try to see it. It was produced by Camfed aired on Sundance Channel.

We were able to see this film becasue of the generosity of our new friend Brittany. We met Brittany while we were passing through Lusaka on our Livingstone and Victoria Falls vacation over Easter 2011. We got to talking about our site in Luapula and Brittany's beginning her Third-Year Extension in Lusaka. Upon hearing we are posted in Luapula, she immediately offered to lend us her DVD of "Where the Water Meets the Sky." Fortunately, we were staying at a homestay in Lusaka where we had access to a DVD player, so we watched the video the next day.

The video calls together a group of undereducated, unempowered women and they are guided in creating a film telling their story, which turns out to be about being orphaned by HIV/AIDS and then going into prostitution to get by. Then, the women are given by Camfed the tools, guidance and license to create their own film about their story and then show it to their communities. It's a film about female empowerment and community education- and it's incredibly inspiring. Thank you, Brittany, for lending us your DVD!

We were so inpired by it that we have to pass along the recommendation to our family and friends. I noticed the Camfed website helps people host screenings of the film. If I could I'd host a screening to share these women's stories and success and (selfishly) to give our friends and family a clear window into the community we live with and work with. It was incredible to watch on film people who look, move, gesture and dress exactly like the community of Chebele Village, Mwense District, Luapula, Zambia- which has become our Home. It was so fun to hear on screen the Bemba that fills our ears everyday here in Zambia. The surroundings, the town, the village, the school depicted in the film- it's just like our everyday life! The film captured our community and our daily expereince in a more articulate way than I could ever attempt.

http://www.watermeetssky.com/assets/swf/trailer.swf

And while I'm on the topic of our garden, you'll appreciate this behind-the-scenes story about what happened when Shaun was digging the beds for our soybeans and moringa...

While digging these beds, Shaun almost stepped on a Puff Adder snake, whose venomous bite would have been life-threatening. Shaun was digging along with his hoe when our neighbor's son yelled, “Shaun! Insoka! Snake!” Shaun thought the young man was pulling his leg, as Shaun has often done to the young man when joking around at the house or the swimming hole. So, Shaun responded with a laugh, to which the young man yelled, “Insoka- MOVE!” He pushed Shaun out of the way and swung his hoe down on the ground just inches from where Shaun's right foot had been. Shaun looked down, and, what do you know, there was a 2-foot long, black and tan snake! Shaun's heart jumped to his throat when he saw the snake and realized our friend wasn't joking. Shaun was inches from being in a really, really bad way.

Our friend's swing at the snake wasn't enough to kill it, but it did move the snake out of the grass and into clear view on our sandy walkway. The snake was stunned and we took advantage of this to crowd around, get a good look and even a picture. Then, Shaun slammed his hoe down on the snake, severing its head and definitively ending the snake's life. The decapitated body writhed in the dirt and our friend picked it up with his hoe and flung it into the bush where no one travels. The head we buried in the hole made by Shaun slamming his how into the ground. Then, after taking a breath or two, everyone went back to work... although more cautiously.

Here's the picture we took of the snake:

Everyone here is a farmer, as everyone farms the very food they live off of. Most Zambians, whether they are formally employed or they are a subsistence farmer, have a garden and grow their own food for household consumption (and then some for selling). This is a necessity in Zambia that I don't see in America. Even among formally employed folks, it seems salaries aren't enough to allow families to rely on simply buying household food like we do in America.

In our village, people are growing:

Maize (a staple food everyone seems to cultivate)TomatoesCassava (another staple food; they eat the leaves, locally called “katapa”, and the root, locally called “tute”)Rape (leafy green vegetable)Pumpkins (they eat the leaves and the pumpkins)Groundnuts (Zambian peanuts)And a few people are growing: watermelon, oranges and soy beans

In our village, we've also seen people keeping the following animals:

Chickens:

These are mostly kept as a “living bank account” (as the nearest bank is in the provincial capital 110km away) and for meat during special events (very little meat is consumed in our village). There seems to be little knowledge in our area about exploiting village chickens for egg production to improve nutrition and (much needed) protein intake for the family, as well as to generate income. However, of the farmers we've spoken to about this, there are several that say they wish to learn. Also, the Mwense District Women's Development Association in the boma is interested in having Shaun conduct Poultry Rearing trainings for its members. So, this is one of the projects we plan to take up after rainy season, when people are not consumed with cultivating their fields and when supplies will be available for building hen houses.

Goats:

Again, goats seem to be kept as a “living bank account” and sometimes sold for meat or eaten by the household at holidays like Christmas. When Shaun and I arrived in the village in October, it seemed overrun with goats. In fact, our morning wake-up alarm would often be goats mating outside our bedroom window (quite a rude awakening, I assure you). Yet, even with this seeming abundance of goats in the village, families weren't eating meat or protein- at all. We found most families were only eating cassava nshima (which is pure starch and devoid of protein, fats and most nutrients) and possibly a green vegetable (usually katapa, a cooked spinach-like dish). We didn't understand why families would choose to starve rather than milk or kill and smoke the meat of one of the many goats. Smoking the meat would allow a family to have goat meat beyond just one day (for a week or more). I'll telly ya, there were mornings I fantasized about killing a goat or two... Milking the goats would provide a daily source of protein, fats and nutrients missing from most children's diets in our village. Goat milk is heartier than cow milk (though there are few, if any cows in our area) and an excellent source of nutrition. Though, unfortunately, there is no knowledge here about exploiting village goats for milk (and thus cheese) production. We'd really like to show our village that they can be getting more nutrition and income from the goats they keep. We see pregnant mother goats and adorable baby goats all over the village, so we've approached goat-owners about the possibility of milking their goats for drinking and possibly selling goat milk . However, we haven't yet found anyone willing to milk their goat (or let us milk it). We have friends in the village who, although they themselves don't own goats, continue to encourage us to bring this kind of knowledge and training to the village. So we'll continue talking to farmers about this topic and see if any interest in goat milk production develops.And on the topic of goats... There were so many goats in the village I was reluctant to plant a garden because I thought it would quickly be eaten by goats. However, our neighbors assured me that come planting season (mid-November) the goats in the village would all be tied up. Sure enough, all the goats are tied up and don't get into people's gardens or fields. That said, people who practice permaculture (maintaining permanent gardens) must fence their gardens to keep goats out during the dry season.

Pigs, ducks, guinea fowl (although we've only seen a few of these animals).

Fish (tilapia and oreochromis species, which is what Peace Corps has placed us here in Chebele to help farmers develop)

So, back to the topic of cultivating crops...

In order to grow that food, the villagers depend on this region's naturally high rainfall. There's very little in the way of irrigation systems set up here. Villagers rely on rainwater to fill streams and rivers, which are dammed to fill man-made furrows that lead to fields, gardens and fish ponds- thus irrigating crops and filling ponds. So, the rain is basically the backbone of a villager's livelihood. More on this to come...

Hi Again, Friends

First off, HAPPY BIRTHDAY BETH!

I realized I haven't discussed yet our humble abode. We live in a mud-brick, thatch-roof house that's about 15 ft. by 15 ft. We've been told it's small for a married couple of PCVs, and the previous two generations of PCVs who lived here were both single. That said, our neighbor told us that before PCVs lived in the house, a family of ELEVEN dwelled here. I'm finding that hard to believe, but that's what he said!

Mud-brick houses: I find this amazing. Clay soil is dug up out of the ground by hand, and then formed by hand into brick shape. Then, the bricks are piled together in a sort of pyramid with a gap at the bottom. In that gap, a wood fire is created and then the whole pyramid of clay bricks is covered in mud and left for days to burn the bricks into solid, home-building material.

Our walls were at some point cemented, meaning after the house was built, someone (probably the first-generation PCV) mixed and then smeared cement over the mud-brick walls. This is a very nice touch, as it fortifies the walls (especially during rainy season) and deters termites. With just the cement, however, the walls are a dull gray cement color (as you'd expect). So, Shaun and I recently limed our walls and now they are brilliantly whitewashed making the corners not so dark and scary, making the walls even more termite-resistant (African termites dwell in clay), and making it feel less like a garage and more like a humble abode. It reminds me now of the village homes I visited years ago in northern Morocco. I remember being taken aback by how bright, cool and relieving the homes seemed inside, despite the blistering North African sun outside.

Thatch-Roofs: Our roof is made of grass that's cut in the dry season, before burn season (starting in September) when farmers slash and burn large swaths of land to prepare it for cultivation (a practice known locally as "Chitemene"). When we first moved in, we'd look up to see wooden beams, our thatch roof and a small patch of sunlight right above our bed (which is only movable if we dismantle it so it stays put). To help with the rains and to keep thatch and other debris from falling on us, our neighbor lined the inside of our roof with black plastic (provided by Peace Corps). Bless his heart, he and his sons covered every inch of the roof creating a barrier between us and that patch of daylight above our bed.

Nonetheless, we had neighbors come by and tell us, rightly so, that our roof looked in poor shape and that we needed to gather more grass for re-thatching before the rains came. We bought 20 bundles of grass (3,000 kwacha each) and our neighbor said he'd help us re-thatch our roof. So, we waited, a bit nervously, for the first rains. In adding thatch to maintain your roof, we learned you must wait until the first rains, which is a bit disconcerting to American PCVs who are used to, well, American roofing. As it was explained to me, the reasons for waiting until the first rains is because the water causes the grass to expand a bit (like wood or another organic material does when wet), and it also weights down the grass so that the additional grass can be shoved underneath the existing grass and stay put.

So, even with our expertly done black plastic, we imagined waking up in a puddle during the first rain (after all, Zambia gets torrential rains and Luapula is known to be one of the wettest regions). The first hard rain came in late-October and to our pleasant surprise, we stayed dry! So, all's well and dry at our house.

In front of our house, we've laid a 5ft. x 7 ft. cement patio where we spend a lot of time entertaining, having meetings, quizzing the children on their timestables, swinging the brazier, cooking and eating breakfasts and dinners, and doing dishes (naturally). Most Zambian homes have an insaka- an outdoor, covered structure, where these things take place- but we do not. The insaka at our house fell down a couple years ago and hasn't been replaced yet. We are thinking of replacing it after this rainy season (when bricks can once again be burned).

Leading up to our patio is a long walkway. It leads from the main road/path that the village sits along to our front door. The walkway is flanked on either side by bush. Right now it's rainy season so it's mostly tall grasses and other native plants, but we've cultivated a section of it and planted maize (because everyone plants maize), soy beans and cow peas. Unfortunately, our soy beans did not germinate, but our other seeds have.

In other news, we have a new member of our household- Kitty. Kitty is our snake protection. She's a very cuddly, friendly orange kitten (about 4 months old) and a great hunter. Her job is to keep the mice and rats away. Mice and rats are unwanted house guests, of course, but even more unwanted are the hungry snakes they attract. So far, Kitty's been earning her keep by pouncing on and eating just about everything that creeps into the house- mice, lizards, even roaches. We just adore her!

Here are some pictures of our house to give you a better idea:

Shaun, our PCV friend Jessica and our neighborhood kids hanging out on our porch. The grass structure to the left of the house is our bathing shelter ("ulusasa" in Bemba) and the structure behind it is our pit latrine ("icimbusu" in Bemba).

Shaun and our neighbor's children helping us dig beds for the garden in our "front yard".

Our friend Cola (pronounced Chola) playing our "My Little Pony Matching Card Game" on our front patio. The little orange kitty is "Kitty', our snake protection.

Here's where I'll sign off for now (because of our slow Internet connection it took hours to upload those photos), but I hope to post again in the coming weeks with more information and fun tales. Thanks for tuning in and here's to you having a lovely Valentine's Day!

It is Christmas Eve here in Lusaka, Zambia, although it doesn’t quite feel like it. This morning, we slid on our flip-flops and took a walk, on a dirt path, along a congested, 2-lane tarmac road and under blue skies, hot Zambian sun and white, fluffy clouds. We passed a big grocery store called Melissa’s, where a quartet of Zambians were playing brass instruments in front of a fake, plastic, decorated Christmas tree, and a young man wished us a seemingly out-of-place “Merry Christmas” a few blocks later. These have been our only reminders of the holiday. Everything else about Zambia is becoming more familiar, but still foreign enough to seem very distant from the United States, our lives there and the holiday frenzy I’m following on Facebook And, right now, I take it as a blessing; it keeps the homesickness in check.

Shaun and I are in Lusaka, the capital city, for Christmas- partly for vacation and partly for medical reasons, which I’ll get to. We’ve been planning for months to celebrate New Year’s (and the end of our Community Entry) with a number of other PCVs by spending a week at Nkhata Bay on Lake Malawi. To get there from our village in Mwense District, Luapula, it’s a 3-day journey, so we’ve broken it up into several mini-trips: Chibondo village – Mansa – Lusaka – Chipata – Nkhata Bay (Lake Malawi).

The day before Community Entry ended (17 December 2010), we hitched with our friend and neighboring PCV, Tiffany, to our other PCV friend’s (Sarah’s) site 50km away in the village of Chibondo. It’s only 50km, but it took his 4 different hitches to get there: the first on the back of a big truck hauling 50kg bags of maize seed, until it stopped 8km down the road in Kashiba to unload; the second in a nice cruiser with the District Commissioner (Ben), until he dropped us off in Mulundu where he was attending a funeral; the third on a mini-bus which charged us each 10,000 kwacha ($2 USD) to take us to the junction to Sarah’s village (from the junction, her village is 12km on a dirt road); the fourth in a nice a ZPCT cruiser, after we’d already walked abut 5k in the heat of the day. The ZPCT cruiser was a savior, as the day became unseasonably hot and we were beginning to feel dehydrated. We spent the rest of the day lounging on Sarah’s cool cement floor, hydrating and enjoying the company of fellow PCVs- with the exception of Tiffany, whom the heat got the best of and made quite sick- poor gal!

The next morning, we got a hitch from Sarah’s place back out to the main road where, as luck would have it, a bus to Mansa came moments after our arriving. For 10,000 kwacha, we rode comfortably down to Mansa, the provincial capital. We spent the week at the Peace Corps Provincial House in Mansa with our fellow PCVs- some veteran and many fellow newbies fresh from Community Entry. We used the time to reconnect, adjust from village-living to town-living, update our blogs and online picture galleries and just enjoy the modern amenities like TV, electricity, running water, warm showers and a kitchen.

While in Mansa, infection set in on the weeks-old sore on Shaun’s foot from a stray brazier ember, as well as in a new blister between his toes. Foot infections are no joke in the village because it’s impossible to keep your feet clean- especially when you’re working with fish farmers and harvesting ponds. We did hot saltwater soaks and used the steri-scrub, but saw no improvement. So at the recommendation of our superb PCVL, Shaun called the Peace Corps Medical Officer (PCMO) for advisement. The PCMO had Shaun start antibiotics and get on the next day’s bus to Lusaka for a medical examination. As luck would have it, we were already planning to go to Lusaka the next day: a stop en route to Lake Malawi and a nice place to be for the Christmas holiday. Now, since Shaun was ordered by the PCMO to go to Lusaka for examination, his bus ticket to Lusaka will be reimbursed and we can stay (gratis) at the bunkhouse on the Peace Corps compound, which saves us quite a bit of kwacha. I love it when things work out like that- we must have good karma or something!

Yesterday, Shaun saw the PCMO who checked out his feet, which seem to be healing now that he’s on antibiotics. We’re staying at the PC bunkhouse for the holiday, which is quite enjoyable because we have the company of a couple other volunteers here also convalescing. We get hot showers and electricity, free internet, and we get to indulge in the amenities of city-life, like cafes, pizza, the movie theatre and martinis (well, that last one I get to indulge in while Shaun has Coke because he can’t drink on antibiotics).

Yesterday, we spent the day with our friends and travel companions Sarah and Sylve (fellow PCVs fresh from Community Entry and en route to Lake Malawi) and we four went hog-wild- hahaha! We started the day with at Blue Moon Café, where we indulged in bagel sandwiches, iced coffee, cappuccinos and Oreo milkshakes- all of it overwhelming our taste buds with that “tastes just like at home” sensation, an extreme surprise! Then, we decided to go see a movie at Arcades (one of 2 shopping malls in Lusaka). Shaun and I got tickets for “Unstoppable” and Sarah and Sylve got tickets for “Harry Potter”. We had some time to kill before the movies started, so we roamed around Arcades until we saw a poster at Rhapsody Restaurant for martinis. Our eyes lit up and we ladies all had the same thought- let’s get a martini! So, we did and they were fabulous! I can still taste my chocolate martini. After that, we floated over to the movies heater and were thoroughly entertained and transported back to the U.S. for a couple hours.

And then, it was time to call our spree quits before we spent all our money (Lusaka’s quite expensive when you’re living on $250 USD a month). So, we went our separate ways: Sarah and Sylve went to Chongwe to visit another PCV friend and Shaun and I went back to the PC bunkhouse. There, we hung out spinning yarns and eating pizza with our new friend, a fellow PCV also in Lusaka for medical reasons. I love interacting with other PCVs because we gain so much from being able to share our different ideas, perspectives and stories.

Today, Christmas Eve, we walked back to Blue Moon Café with our new friend and indulged once again in cappuccinos, bagels and milkshakes. Then we came back to the PC Compound and lounged, did online research and read. Even with the gray rain clouds moving in this afternoon, it still doesn’t feel like Christmas Eve. Nonetheless, we’re going to celebrate tonight with another group of PCVs also in town for the holiday.

I’d better sign off here- I’ve got a cocktail party to get ready for! Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

It's true- we live off the grid, despite being just 4km from the township where many have electricity, albeit not 100% of the time. Our village does not have electricity or running water, so here's how things work...:

No Electricity at Night:

When it gets dark, we stay in. Unlike our Zambian friends, we can't see at night and need some kind of light. At night, we rely on candles and wind-up or solar-powered flashlights to see- and with the creepy-crawlies around, we want to be able to see what's going on in the dark corners!

Since both of our headlamps have broken, we light several candles around the house each night. Thus, we go through our candle stash much faster than other volunteers seem to. But, it's not a problem because in the township we can buy candles for about 10 US cents each. Next time you have a power outage in the evening and have to light candles, think of us :)

Cooking:

When we want to cook, Shaun grabs some charcoal from the 50kg sack we keep in our house. He breaks it up with a hammer, then fills our charcoal brazier, lights the charcoal with dry grass (which is proving an issue in rainy season) and then swings the brazier until the charcoal lights and we have a cooking fire. Then, I cook, which really isn't as tricky as I thought it would be, once I got over not being able to regulate the heat.

As a side note, Shaun and I an agreement that since I'm in charge of all the cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc., his duty is to start the brazier.

Charging Stuff:

For small appliances like our mp3 players, GPS and digital camera, we have a small, portable solar panel that allows us to charge things via USB cable, as well as rechargeable AA batteries. It works pretty well, especially since it still charges under overcast skies.

For larger things, we've set up at our house what I like to call “Zam-tricity”. We've rigged up a car battery to an inverter, which we plug our phones, Nook (eReader) and laptop into in order to charge them. Each sunny day we're home, we give the car battery a booster charge by hooking it up to our solar panel that we set up in the sun in back of our house (so as not to advertise to passers by that we have it). The solar panel gives enough of a charge to the battery so that we only have to take the battery into town for charging once a month (as opposed to once a week otherwise). We expect we'll have to take the battery into town for charging more often during rainy season because there will be less sun of which to take advantage.

Now, taking the battery into town is an excursion of its own. We don't have access to vehicles and paved roads, but we do have mountain bikes and a decent enough dirt road to get us to town. Shaun loads up the battery (concealed in a chitenge or Ralph's shopping bag Mom sent) on the back of his bike, and he rides down the dirt road to our welder friend in the town's market. We leave the battery with our friend overnight and he charges the battery for 4,000 kwacha (about 80 US cents). The ride there is the easy part because it's mostly downhill. However, the ride back to our place is all uphill and it starts with a very steep climb from the market, which levels off into a more gentle uphill slope to our village.

Communication:

There's a post office in the township just 4km from our house. However, we have pretty good Airtel (formerly Zain) and MTN network coverage at our site/house. So, with our Nokia internet mobile phones, we find Facebook and e-mail a better way to stay in contact with folks at home. I'm amazed at this every day: we can post status updates and pictures, receive and sometimes send emails, read the news, even surf the web. Yet, our village doesn't have basic electricity nor running water. It's a very interesting situation I find myself pondering often. One of these days I'll tackle the subject in this blog.

Drinking water:

We get our water from a stream about 3 football fields away from our house. Actually, I should say our village helpers (village teenagers, 13-17 years old) get our water for us at the stream. We pay them a very attractive 500 kwacha (about 10 US cents) per container of water they fetch for us, and we have a couple teens who come by everyday to ask if they can get water for us. They take our two 20-liter jerry cans down to the stream, fill them up and carry them back- on their head- to our doorstep. Those containers are heavy- I have no idea how the kids carry them on their heads.

After the kiddos bring back the water, I pour a capful of chlorine in the water to treat it. We shake the containers and then let them sit for 30 minutes or so to allow the chlorine to go to work. After that, I pour the water into our two heavy-duty, Peace Corps-issued, 5-liter water filters. I've been told we should be filtering and then chlorinating the water, but (1) that's a big pain and (2) so far we've had no issues or illness.

Because we get our water directly from a stream (as opposed to well or, even better, a borehole) the candles for our filter get slimy and dirty pretty quick and then stop filtering the water through. So, about once a week, I take apart our filters and clean the candles with an old toothbrush. It sounds like a pain, but it takes less than 30 minutes, and in the village, you have time for these kinds of chores... plus it's water- it's a priority :)

Bathing:

We do not have an indoor bathing area, but rather an outdoor, grass bathing shelter (“ulusasa” in bemba). When we first moved in, our ulusasa had a dirt floor, but our counterpart cemented it for us. He also cemented a walkway from our front porch to the bathing shelter so we don't have to walk in the mud- I love it!

In our bathing shelter, we have a 5-gallon solar shower which is basically a black plastic bag that warms the water inside using the sun's rays and then sprinkles your bathing water out of a hose attached to the bottom of the bag. During the hot season, we get warm showers, but lately during the rainy season, our showers have been cold (but quite refreshing) because there's little sun to warm the water. We're not motivated enough to get a brazier going to heat water in the mornings just for bathing, so a cold shower it is. And it really isn't a big deal when we're in the village. We find we get dirty enough that getting clean outweighs the need for warm water- hehehe

Dishes:

Dishes, of course, are all done by hand and I often have little helpers for this chore, too. Little girls in the village come by most mornings and ask if they can do our dishes. When I have dishes for them, they literally squeal with delight! We pour a basin of water to soap up the dishes and scrub off the food. Then I fill another basin with water to rinse off the dishes. Then, when the suns comes out, I like to set the dishes out in the sunshine to dry (covered, though so the dust doesn't get them dirty all over again). And if I have helpers, I always thank them with a “sweetie” (usually a fruity gummy vitamin).

Laundry:

Yep, this is all done by hand, too. Unlike fetching water and dishes, I do this one all on my own. It's actually quite nice to do in the heat of the afternoon because I usually get wet and it cools me off. One basin is for soaping up and using my Zambian bamaayo skills to scrub out the smells and stains. Then, another basin of water for rinsing out the soap. Then, I hang the clothes up on the line outside to dry.

Because we have to worry about bot fly laying their eggs on our damp clothing, when the clothes have dried on the line, I fold them up into a designated laundry bag and let them sit for 72 hours before we wear them. If the bot fly larva doesn't come into contact with human skin within 72 hours, then you don't have to worry about it burrowing into your skin and creating... yuckiness. My practice of waiting 72 hours may be overkill since I hang our clothes to dry on a wire, not a bush like I've seen most Zambians do. Better safe than sorry, I say.

And rather than wait, I could also iron our clothes with a village charcoal iron to kill the larva and dry the clothes. However, I haven't found one yet and even if I did, I'm not sure I could get Shaun to go through the hassle of lighting a brazier to get hot coals to fuel the iron... we also don't have a surface (like a table, etc.) good for ironing. So far, it's much easier to just wait a few days.

The “Toilet”:

We don't actually have a toilet because we don't have running water, nor anything to sit on when we “do our business.” We have a pit latrine (hole in the ground) sheltered with mud-brick walls and a thatch roof (fancier ones have a roof made of metal sheeting). In Bebma, it's called an icimbusu, or “chimbus” for short. Perhaps one of these days I'll write an entry on the “chimbus”, but for now I'll leave it at that (who knows, maybe you're snacking as you read this).

So, that's how we're doin' it!

Shaun and I just finished the phase of our service called Community Entry- can I get an “Amen”?! After a PCV finishes Pre-Service Training (usually 9-12 weeks, depending on your program), they are posted to the site where they will serve their 2 years. This begins the start of Community Entry: 3 months in the village with the purpose of getting to know their community, its needs and building relationships before the PCV begins working. It's a great tool for building the relationships and gaining the inside knowledge necessary for being an effective volunteer and resource for the community.

We started 9 weeks of Pre-Service Training in July 2010, were sworn in as official Peace Corps Volunteers September 24, 2010, and then were whisked up to Luapula where we scurried around for a couple days to get everything we'd need for our site. Then, we were posted to our site (among the first in our group) the last week of September, just before my 31st birthday.

Our Community Entry started that last week of September 2010 and lasted until December 18, 2010, with a brief intermission at Thanksgiving when we came to Mansa, the provincial capital, for Provincial Meetings and to celebrate the holiday. Despite being a great tool, Community Entry was beginning to give us a case of cabin fever toward the end. Community Entry mandates that the PCV spend as much time as possible in their village and not leave their district, unless for official meetings or to receive medical attention. In the coming blog entries over the next 2 years, I hope to explain what it's like to live in a rural Zambian village... and then perhaps you'll understand what I mean about the cabin fever Community Entry causes Americans. Now that we've finished Community Entry, we're feeling (1) like we've experienced a rite of passage, (2) like we've become “real” Volunteers, and (3) very excited to be able to spread our wings here in Zambia and explore other parts and cultures of the country!

But, before I get into all that, let me tell you what our life is like here in Zambia and what we've been learning.

Hi Friends!

While I've been absent from the blog, I've been trying to post tidbits daily on Facebook (so please friend me if you haven't already). Facebook wins my digital fidelity these days because it's very cumbersome to peck out updates from my phone (our main internet device).

I also wanted to share our new mailing address:

(name), PCV

P.O. Box 710150

Mansa, Luapula

Zambia AFRICA

The Lusaka address is still valid, just slower. :)

Before we left the U.S. a lot of folks had asked us what they could send us. So, we put together this "wish list"

- Clif bars

- MRE's (Wal-Mart has some for about $5), Mac n' Cheese and anything else that only needs hot water

- CHOCOLATE!

- TJ's trail mix and goodies

- awesome instant coffee and teas

- packages of tuna or salmon

- packets of condiments from fast food restaurants (surprise us!)

- magazines

- spices (garlic powder, ground pepper, cumin, etc.)

- electrolyte powder

I'm overdue for an update on our adventures here. I hope to post one next week when we go to Lusaka, where I can go to an internet cafe. During training, we have been living in a village setting with a wonderful host family just outside of Chongwe (about 30 minutes driving from Lusaka). Since I haven't come across any internet cafes here, I have internet access only through my "Zam-phone" (Zambian cell phone)- which has been a treat- but typing is slow going :)

Greetings from hot and rainy Atlanta!

Shaun and I are here for a few days for Peace Corps-Zambia Staging (orientation, paperwork and lots o' shots!) before we go overseas. We figure PC brought us to Atlanta to prepare us for Zambia's hot-wet season (Dec.-Apr.) :)

Many of you have asked us what communication will be like for us and where you can send us letters and packages- which we're very much looking forward to receiving! We recently received Peace Corps' "Family and Friends Letter," so I've pasted below excerpts that I thought you might find helpful. For quick reference, here's our mailing address during Pre-Service Training (July-Sept 24):

[Name of Volunteer], PCV

Peace Corps

P.O. Box 50707

Lusaka

Zambia

Helpful Communication Info:

1. Irregular Communication.

Mail in Zambia is fairly reliable. Volunteers find they generally receive mail and packages from the United States two to four weeks after it has been sent. The same is true in sending mail from Zambia. Of course, there are exceptional cases in which a letter or a package might arrive within a shorter period or be substantially delayed. Some mail may simply not arrive. We suggest that in your first letters you ask the Volunteer to give an estimate of how long it takes for him/her to receive your letters, and then try to establish a predictable pattern of how often you will write to each other. Also, try numbering your letters so that the Volunteer knows if he/she has missed one.

2. Telephone Calls.

Telephone lines in Zambia are fairly reliable. During the pre-service training though, opportunities for the trainees to call the United States will be limited. Most Volunteers purchase cell phones, although coverage is limited and international air-time is expensive. Volunteers may or may not have residential phones; however, some Volunteers, use public phones, or find that a neighbor or the organization they work with has a phone they are able to use to make and receive calls. They will be able to inform you of telephone numbers where you might reach them once they arrive at their permanent sites (in October).

The Zambia Desk maintains regular contact with the Peace Corps office in Lusaka through phone calls and e-mail. However, these communications are reserved for business only and cannot be used to relay personal messages. All communication between family members and the Volunteer should be done via international mail, personal phone calls, or e-mail. Volunteers may have access to e-mail at Internet cafes on a weekly or monthly basis, depending on their location.

3. Sending packages.

Family, friends and Volunteers like to send and receive care packages through the mail. Unfortunately, sending packages can be a frustrating experience for all involved due to occasional thefts and customs taxes. You may want to try to send inexpensive items through the mail, but there is no guarantee that these items will arrive. Even though many Volunteers choose to get local post office boxes, you may also use the following address to send letters and/or packages:

Name of Volunteer, PCV

Peace Corps

P.O. Box 50707

Lusaka

Zambia

It is recommended that packages be sent in padded envelopes if possible, as boxes tend to be taxed more frequently. That said, RPCVs I've spoke with recommended that family and friends at home send packages in "flat rate" boxes/envelopes to save in shipping costs.

For lightweight but important items (e.g. airline tickets), DHL (an express mail service) does operate in Lusaka. If you choose to send items through DHL, you must address the package to the Country Director, c/o U. S. Peace Corps/Zambia, 71A Kabulonga Road, Kabulonga, Lusaka, Zambia (the phone number for the Peace Corps office in Zambia is 260-21-1260377, as DHL will need this information). If you send the item to the Country Director, no liability can be assumed. For more information about DHL, please call their toll free number, 1-800-CALL-DHL, or visit their web site at www.dhl.com . Other courier services do operate in Lusaka - DHL is only one possibility.

I hope this was helpful for you. Please know we'd love to exchange letters with you, so please write and catch us up on what we're missing at home! Unfortunately, as denizens of the Digital Age, we didn't collect many of your mailing addresses, so please include them in your letter because we certainly will want to write you back.

Many thanks for tuning in, folks!

- Megan

We are very excited about our upcoming service and although there remain many curiosities about what the next 2.5 years will be like for us, we want to share with you what we know so far. This is a longish post with good links to explore, so you might want to grab your cup of coffee and get comfy. ;)

Country of Service: Zambia (sub-Saharan Africa)

Program: Rural Aquaculture Promotion (RAP)

Job Title: Rural Fish Culture Extension Agent

Staging: July 20-22, 2010 in Atlanta, GA

Pre-Service Training (in Zambia): July 22, 2010 - September 24, 2010

Dates of Service: July 22, 2010 - September 23, 2012

Zambia At-a-Glance: Zambia is a landlocked republic in sub-Saharan Africa. It's located in the tropics south of the equator and neighbored by Tanzania, Malawi, Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Botswana, Namibia, Angola and DR Congo. Many visit Zambia for safari and to see Victoria Falls (i.e. there's amazing things to see if you come visit us). There are 3 seasons: hot-wet (Dec-Apr), cool-dry (May-Aug) and hot-dry (Sept-Nov). English is the official language (although there are over 70 "tribal" languages spoken), and the majority religion is Christianity. Life expectancy in Zambia is approximately 38 years and official estimates say 15% of the population is infected with HIV/AIDS.

This will be a completely new environment for Shaun and I, and we look forward to learning about Zambia's complexity, as well as why so many volunteers fall in love with the country.

Check out these links to learn more about Zambia:

Peace Corps Zambia Program page

The World Factbook- Zambia page

Overview of Our Living Conditions: We'll be living "at the village level" with neither electricity nor plumbing, but rather in earthen houses lighted by kerosene lamps and cooking over wood or charcoal. Drinking/washing water may need to be carried from as far away as 20 minutes on foot.

I've learned from returned volunteers (RPCVs) that we'll find Internet access at the Peace Corps houses in the provincial capitals. The nearest to us may be a full day's journey away, so we'll likely only visit every 3-5 weeks. I aim to update the blog and share pictures whenever we make these visits.

Here are links to videos other Peace Corps-Zambia volunteers made, and I highly recommend checking them out. I found these on YouTube and they've really helped us visualize life in Zambia. Thank you to PCVs Carrie Pavlik, Travis Estes and Summer Moore for posting these!

ZaMovie Part 1 (by PCV Carrie Pavlik)

ZaMovie Part 2 (by PCV Carrie Pavlik)

Zambia Tour Peace Corps (by PCVs Travis Estes and Summer Moore)

Overview of Our Jobs and Working Conditions: The RAP program supports Zambia's Dept. of Fisheries improvement of rural livelihoods by promoting "integrated aquaculture" as a small farm business that provides farmers income, nutrition and food security. As RAP agents, Shaun and I will be working with Zambian fish farmers and our primary duties will be to help communities:

a- build and manage their own aquaculture systems

b- operate these as small enterprises

c- strengthen the fish farmer associations.

We may be the 1st, 2nd or 3rd volunteers at our post, and we'll likely be the only Peace Corps volunteers for miles.

For transportation, Shaun and I will each be provided an all-terrain... wait for it... bicycle...

to transport us across the 1600 sq. km of our project territory. RAP volunteers commonly ride over 100 km/wk over extremely rough terrain. We are looking forward to being PHit ("fit" with a capital PH)! I've told Shaun's brother, Nick (an avid mountain-biker), that we're going riding with him when we get back- watch out, Nick! :)

Overview of Our Pre-Service Training: By all accounts, Peace Corps provides its volunteers excellent, comprehensive training before their 2 years of service. Ours will start with several weeks of intensive language training. We'll be immersed in the local language (as yet TBD) and village life from the day we arrive by living with a host family (whom we're excited to meet!). Once we have a basic grasp of the language, we'll start our technical/job training. This will also include sessions on health and safety, cross-cultural issues, development issues and Zambian culture.

We've been promised that RAP training is rigorous, leaving little private time or individual space. So, please be bear with us, as we'll have very limited email/blogging time between now and October.

Phew! That was a long one- thanks for making it to the end! And stay tuned for more posts & pictures.

Best!

Megan

Greetings!

My husband, Shaun, and I are about depart for 27 months of service in Zambia with the Peace Corps. If you've ever met us, you know this is a long-held goal of ours, so you can imagine our excitement and anticipation as our departure date (July 17, 2010) approaches.

My mission in this blog is not only to share with you our tales of adventure, challenge and reward, but also to give you a window into the rich culture of Zambia, Africa.

Thank you for joining our adventure!