Thursday, April 30, 2009
you wanted contrast, john. Kapow! Zam! Crash! how's that for contrast.
( It was so hot today, I think I got burned. a bit. on my toes. because i was wearing sandals. it was that hot. enjoy calgary spring weather.)
Good news is that since I last wrote, our followers have exponentially increased. I'm not a math wizard but that's what I call it when it goes from 1 to 3 to 6 in a matter of 2 days! By this rate, the whole church should be following the blog right in time for us to give the final overall conclusion of the trip on tuesday, and send us wishes for the 10 hr layover we have in the Netherlands! now, don't let me down! Finally, on to the blog....
I have a secret to tell.
Not only do I have hidden talents, such as, oh i don't know, .... masonry!
I am also a dancing machine.
In fact,
We, we are dancing machines.
This is my conclusion after being called up to the ring of dancing, an african baptism of fire if you will, this morning on our way to Mbutu village. (I was able to glean some possible reasons why the names of villages are so hard to get a hold of, as well as areas. It seems, according to the church clerk/elder/deacon guy that villages are named after mfumus, or chiefs. When a new chief comes along, so does a new name. Maps must be difficult to make; that, or the chiefs are in collusion with Rand McNally, getting a cut from all the new editions.
The entrance to the village was unique. It was a footpath that temporarily become a road. We slalomed our way through the village to the shade tree, passing houses, tobacco drying huts, small children. At the village we were able to check out some toilets. (I hope Warren takes the time to think of our African loos each time his beloved fans cheer for Luongo tonight. Looo. Looo. Canucks fans must be die hard sustainable development-ists. )
I never knew that latrines could be so interesting and sustainable. well, i hope no one is overly sensitive because here's what we learned today. The EcoSans as they call these environmentally friendly loos have been around for about 3 years. What the villagers do is dig a pit, 230 cms x 120 cm x 1 metre deep. Then they lay out the brickword, making the "deposit" hole (think of it as your local sustainable bank) 60 cms in diameter, mixing some dirt and water they, or I should say we served up some mortar, trowelling it between the bricks. We did a couple of rows complete with the mortar and the back filling. I was quite proud, actually. Well, until I turned around and saw that the woman doing her side of the toilets was done before us. But, in hindsight, i did scrape some dirt in the corner for her---so it's our victory either way. So after building up the two holes, some of the villagers pulled out a thin metal strip, tied it together with string and filled it almost all the way with sand, creating a dome like shape. Then with the measurements of 7 shovels of sand/dirt, 8 shovels of rocks, and 2 shovels of cement they began to mix up the concrete by adding water. After a few minutes they had placed it in the mould and started the trowelling and floating. As a former concrete worker I played the loyal municipal worker and oversaw the concrete creationg; i approved of the work they did. They placed a subtle piece of wood at the top (think of it as the deposit door at the ATM/ABMs). Once they dome with the drophole was complete they made just a little bit more concrete and placed a wood form over top with two feet markers and once the footpads were in place, they removed the subtle wooden piece and they sprinkled some sand on top of the dome...for decoration, i'd like to think.
Now, comes the interesting part. After each use, one drops a cup full of ash and sand. 1) it helps to start the compost process and 2) it cuts down the smell quite substantially. Then, "depending on how many visitors you have and how big your family is" it could take three weeks to fill, or it could take a couple of months. The real secret is that once filled, they put the ashen mix on top, pick up the dome shaped concrete cover with the subtle hole, roll it over to the other side, throw down plaster over the old hole and wait....for four to six months. When the waiting time is up, they bag the compost and use it on their fields. One ATM makes 3 bags of compost, which in turn can fertilise 1 acre of land. Not only does the village not have to dig holes all the time to go to the bathroom, but they save a lot of money not having to buy fertilizer from stores, which in turn damages the soil by over use.
On the way back we were shown some goats which were purchased by the loan program in the village. They were about a metre off the ground. I naturally thought it was strange that they were living not on the ground. So I asked. and the response I got wasn't anything close to what I was expecting. They eat too much? Zap! no. They make less noise in the air?? Kaboom! nope. (I'm running out of batman noises...) It's so the hyenas don't eat them. . . . gulp.
Apparently, hyenas are about a metre high. Oh, and the frequent the village enough so that the villagers are forced to build pens above ground. The idea of sleeping in the village no longer appeals to me.
As we were leaving yesterday, driving through some village on the red dirt road, I noticed a group of small children, three of the four mouthing uzungu, the fourth no older than 3 years old, in what I can only take as a sign of welcome, got up, picked up a rock and tried to hit the van with it. He was also yelling something. I bet it was nice.
We did get back early today, and Jeff and I were able to take a walk around for a bit. We walked to the two mosques in the city, over the river, by the stores in rushhour. I was relieved when no one yelled uzungu at us; I wasn't however overly joyed by the 'hey.....hey friend.....hey.....hey friend.... (at this point I honestly thought he was trying to sell us hashish) hey....hey....look at me (that one threw me for a loop)....hey....buy....mumble mumble inaudible.... " out of the corner of my eye i saw him trying to sell us a pair of sunglasses. It would seem that once you stop becoming a novelty people easily get tired of you, if they know nothing is going to come of it or if you're not in it for the long haul, something I'm sure the people in the city see all the time, and something the little boy picked up along with knowing how to throw rocks. This could be what this trip is, to these villagers, to the Nkhoma Relief and Development, to us; an opportunity for relationship, for it to mean something lasting.
Tomorrow we are off to see a more developed family house, I'm not sure what that all entails. Also, in the afternoon it's off to see some HIV/AIDS patients. I suspect that this will be the most difficult day of the trip.
( It was so hot today, I think I got burned. a bit. on my toes. because i was wearing sandals. it was that hot. enjoy calgary spring weather.)
Good news is that since I last wrote, our followers have exponentially increased. I'm not a math wizard but that's what I call it when it goes from 1 to 3 to 6 in a matter of 2 days! By this rate, the whole church should be following the blog right in time for us to give the final overall conclusion of the trip on tuesday, and send us wishes for the 10 hr layover we have in the Netherlands! now, don't let me down! Finally, on to the blog....
I have a secret to tell.
Not only do I have hidden talents, such as, oh i don't know, .... masonry!
I am also a dancing machine.
In fact,
We, we are dancing machines.
This is my conclusion after being called up to the ring of dancing, an african baptism of fire if you will, this morning on our way to Mbutu village. (I was able to glean some possible reasons why the names of villages are so hard to get a hold of, as well as areas. It seems, according to the church clerk/elder/deacon guy that villages are named after mfumus, or chiefs. When a new chief comes along, so does a new name. Maps must be difficult to make; that, or the chiefs are in collusion with Rand McNally, getting a cut from all the new editions.
The entrance to the village was unique. It was a footpath that temporarily become a road. We slalomed our way through the village to the shade tree, passing houses, tobacco drying huts, small children. At the village we were able to check out some toilets. (I hope Warren takes the time to think of our African loos each time his beloved fans cheer for Luongo tonight. Looo. Looo. Canucks fans must be die hard sustainable development-ists. )
I never knew that latrines could be so interesting and sustainable. well, i hope no one is overly sensitive because here's what we learned today. The EcoSans as they call these environmentally friendly loos have been around for about 3 years. What the villagers do is dig a pit, 230 cms x 120 cm x 1 metre deep. Then they lay out the brickword, making the "deposit" hole (think of it as your local sustainable bank) 60 cms in diameter, mixing some dirt and water they, or I should say we served up some mortar, trowelling it between the bricks. We did a couple of rows complete with the mortar and the back filling. I was quite proud, actually. Well, until I turned around and saw that the woman doing her side of the toilets was done before us. But, in hindsight, i did scrape some dirt in the corner for her---so it's our victory either way. So after building up the two holes, some of the villagers pulled out a thin metal strip, tied it together with string and filled it almost all the way with sand, creating a dome like shape. Then with the measurements of 7 shovels of sand/dirt, 8 shovels of rocks, and 2 shovels of cement they began to mix up the concrete by adding water. After a few minutes they had placed it in the mould and started the trowelling and floating. As a former concrete worker I played the loyal municipal worker and oversaw the concrete creationg; i approved of the work they did. They placed a subtle piece of wood at the top (think of it as the deposit door at the ATM/ABMs). Once they dome with the drophole was complete they made just a little bit more concrete and placed a wood form over top with two feet markers and once the footpads were in place, they removed the subtle wooden piece and they sprinkled some sand on top of the dome...for decoration, i'd like to think.
Now, comes the interesting part. After each use, one drops a cup full of ash and sand. 1) it helps to start the compost process and 2) it cuts down the smell quite substantially. Then, "depending on how many visitors you have and how big your family is" it could take three weeks to fill, or it could take a couple of months. The real secret is that once filled, they put the ashen mix on top, pick up the dome shaped concrete cover with the subtle hole, roll it over to the other side, throw down plaster over the old hole and wait....for four to six months. When the waiting time is up, they bag the compost and use it on their fields. One ATM makes 3 bags of compost, which in turn can fertilise 1 acre of land. Not only does the village not have to dig holes all the time to go to the bathroom, but they save a lot of money not having to buy fertilizer from stores, which in turn damages the soil by over use.
On the way back we were shown some goats which were purchased by the loan program in the village. They were about a metre off the ground. I naturally thought it was strange that they were living not on the ground. So I asked. and the response I got wasn't anything close to what I was expecting. They eat too much? Zap! no. They make less noise in the air?? Kaboom! nope. (I'm running out of batman noises...) It's so the hyenas don't eat them. . . . gulp.
Apparently, hyenas are about a metre high. Oh, and the frequent the village enough so that the villagers are forced to build pens above ground. The idea of sleeping in the village no longer appeals to me.
As we were leaving yesterday, driving through some village on the red dirt road, I noticed a group of small children, three of the four mouthing uzungu, the fourth no older than 3 years old, in what I can only take as a sign of welcome, got up, picked up a rock and tried to hit the van with it. He was also yelling something. I bet it was nice.
We did get back early today, and Jeff and I were able to take a walk around for a bit. We walked to the two mosques in the city, over the river, by the stores in rushhour. I was relieved when no one yelled uzungu at us; I wasn't however overly joyed by the 'hey.....hey friend.....hey.....hey friend.... (at this point I honestly thought he was trying to sell us hashish) hey....hey....look at me (that one threw me for a loop)....hey....buy....mumble mumble inaudible.... " out of the corner of my eye i saw him trying to sell us a pair of sunglasses. It would seem that once you stop becoming a novelty people easily get tired of you, if they know nothing is going to come of it or if you're not in it for the long haul, something I'm sure the people in the city see all the time, and something the little boy picked up along with knowing how to throw rocks. This could be what this trip is, to these villagers, to the Nkhoma Relief and Development, to us; an opportunity for relationship, for it to mean something lasting.
Tomorrow we are off to see a more developed family house, I'm not sure what that all entails. Also, in the afternoon it's off to see some HIV/AIDS patients. I suspect that this will be the most difficult day of the trip.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
This morning, we made an unexpected stop..... and left without one important document. but that goodun's for another time.
After arriving this morning to great fanfare again... (there is this really great, really catchy Welcoming song that they sing,....and yes, the translation is coming tomorrow. Jane didn't have her glasses to write it down. you'll have to wait for the lyrics) we settled down under a large tree nearby by Kamenzi village, which is the Rev K's village. --the village/district/station/area name is kind of confusing for us. It seems to be intertwined. We did ask for a rough estimate of the people in Kamenzi and we are still waiting for an answer!
After barely escaping the van we shook hands with the singing and dancing women, singing and dancing to that great song, we met the village elders and sat down on some chairs while the adult literacy group sat down and the school children played hookey to watch the azungas. The teacher, Boniface, presented a typical lesson to the students (of all ages, including ourselves). The were breaking down words into syllables and then into letters; practising the sounds and the writing of the letters. Alimi gulani mbewa ku adimaki. Farmers sell seeds at the gov't market. They received gifts from Linda's church backhome, mostly school supplies for the teachers; some of the teaching material was Bible stories, which the people requested; some sustainable development stories; others were just about average village life. The one astounding fact was that in this past year, the 10th in its operation there were a total of 1,000+ women attending literacy classes. Only 80 men decided it was in their interest to do so. The reasons vary, but one conclusion is that the men don't like to be shown up, or since they think they know everything, they don't need to learn. I say "think!? we know everything!----yes. osakutiwila" (i'm not married). Again, another promising step in what we've set out to witness.
And off to Rev. K's house where we dined on Nsima, rice, chicken, and what Jeff and Jae agreed was goat, which was delicious again. After lunch, we headed out to the Malaria Control session where once more, we were greeted with singing and dancing. Jane, our connection with NRD, told us that the women were much less shy and were more forthcoming in their singing and dancing, which could have surprised me yesterday. One of the women volunteers who teaches other women about Malaria Control got up infront and explained what they have done and what they do. It is basically a four step approach: an analogy for new hope. kristen, 4 months pregnant, goes to the clinic to get her SP (i believe it's called that) shot. Then in July, 7 months preggers at that time, goes to get another one. Meanwhile, on the first visit to the clinic she has been given a bed net that has been treated, making it good for 6 months. and Kristen dutifully checks Ava (since she's under 5 years) for any symptoms. If she sees some, she goes to the clinic within 24 hrs.
I think that the best part of it was the song that accompanied the information. Their songs tell each other the information that they've learned, and what they can do. I imagined that when they put their finger up in the air to point out something, that it was actually a mosquito they were pointing at and that they were warning everyone; I was wrong.
We then went to a couple of houses with one of them being pregnant and the other having delivered recently. They went on to discuss how they got the nets, the shots, the information and that they also spread the information to their and with their neighbours. It seems to be a fairly common pattern to disseminate the information. They gather a few people from different areas, teach them, and let them go back home to teach others around them. And it seems to be working well....if the government had enough nets.
After saying our goodbyes we left for Rev K's house for a kuppa. There was Jeff showing photos of Solly to the children and Jae taking photos of Shayleen (sp?), the Rev's daughter who is supercute, after playing pickaboo with her.
And as we were set to head home, we looked around and could not find Jeff. I thought he had been eaten by a lion. Why not? It's possible. He was, however, playing football with kids who, by the sounds of it were more talented than him in that a) they didn't kick off their sandals when kicking the ball and b) almost pulled off a bicycle kick.
Driving through the villages on the way out, you can see in people's eyes the 'white' look. Of course, it's hard to keep inconspicuous when you've a handful of kids screaming whitey and running after the van. Malawi, or Kamenzi would not head my list for safehouses in case I needed to go into witness protection.
Two side notes: There were almost (and i counted) a gazillion kids at each of our meetings. It's hard to fathom what that will do to the country in a few years, what cost that will take, etc.
the last is that it is hard to escape the notion/idea/fact of death here. Since going to the villages, I believe (so, in the past two days) I think that I have counted three funerals that people have attended. One, unfortunately, will be tomorrow for Hanna's nephew; the human cost of suffering.
Tselani bwino. Stay well.
After arriving this morning to great fanfare again... (there is this really great, really catchy Welcoming song that they sing,....and yes, the translation is coming tomorrow. Jane didn't have her glasses to write it down. you'll have to wait for the lyrics) we settled down under a large tree nearby by Kamenzi village, which is the Rev K's village. --the village/district/station/area name is kind of confusing for us. It seems to be intertwined. We did ask for a rough estimate of the people in Kamenzi and we are still waiting for an answer!
After barely escaping the van we shook hands with the singing and dancing women, singing and dancing to that great song, we met the village elders and sat down on some chairs while the adult literacy group sat down and the school children played hookey to watch the azungas. The teacher, Boniface, presented a typical lesson to the students (of all ages, including ourselves). The were breaking down words into syllables and then into letters; practising the sounds and the writing of the letters. Alimi gulani mbewa ku adimaki. Farmers sell seeds at the gov't market. They received gifts from Linda's church backhome, mostly school supplies for the teachers; some of the teaching material was Bible stories, which the people requested; some sustainable development stories; others were just about average village life. The one astounding fact was that in this past year, the 10th in its operation there were a total of 1,000+ women attending literacy classes. Only 80 men decided it was in their interest to do so. The reasons vary, but one conclusion is that the men don't like to be shown up, or since they think they know everything, they don't need to learn. I say "think!? we know everything!----yes. osakutiwila" (i'm not married). Again, another promising step in what we've set out to witness.
And off to Rev. K's house where we dined on Nsima, rice, chicken, and what Jeff and Jae agreed was goat, which was delicious again. After lunch, we headed out to the Malaria Control session where once more, we were greeted with singing and dancing. Jane, our connection with NRD, told us that the women were much less shy and were more forthcoming in their singing and dancing, which could have surprised me yesterday. One of the women volunteers who teaches other women about Malaria Control got up infront and explained what they have done and what they do. It is basically a four step approach: an analogy for new hope. kristen, 4 months pregnant, goes to the clinic to get her SP (i believe it's called that) shot. Then in July, 7 months preggers at that time, goes to get another one. Meanwhile, on the first visit to the clinic she has been given a bed net that has been treated, making it good for 6 months. and Kristen dutifully checks Ava (since she's under 5 years) for any symptoms. If she sees some, she goes to the clinic within 24 hrs.
I think that the best part of it was the song that accompanied the information. Their songs tell each other the information that they've learned, and what they can do. I imagined that when they put their finger up in the air to point out something, that it was actually a mosquito they were pointing at and that they were warning everyone; I was wrong.
We then went to a couple of houses with one of them being pregnant and the other having delivered recently. They went on to discuss how they got the nets, the shots, the information and that they also spread the information to their and with their neighbours. It seems to be a fairly common pattern to disseminate the information. They gather a few people from different areas, teach them, and let them go back home to teach others around them. And it seems to be working well....if the government had enough nets.
After saying our goodbyes we left for Rev K's house for a kuppa. There was Jeff showing photos of Solly to the children and Jae taking photos of Shayleen (sp?), the Rev's daughter who is supercute, after playing pickaboo with her.
And as we were set to head home, we looked around and could not find Jeff. I thought he had been eaten by a lion. Why not? It's possible. He was, however, playing football with kids who, by the sounds of it were more talented than him in that a) they didn't kick off their sandals when kicking the ball and b) almost pulled off a bicycle kick.
Driving through the villages on the way out, you can see in people's eyes the 'white' look. Of course, it's hard to keep inconspicuous when you've a handful of kids screaming whitey and running after the van. Malawi, or Kamenzi would not head my list for safehouses in case I needed to go into witness protection.
Two side notes: There were almost (and i counted) a gazillion kids at each of our meetings. It's hard to fathom what that will do to the country in a few years, what cost that will take, etc.
the last is that it is hard to escape the notion/idea/fact of death here. Since going to the villages, I believe (so, in the past two days) I think that I have counted three funerals that people have attended. One, unfortunately, will be tomorrow for Hanna's nephew; the human cost of suffering.
Tselani bwino. Stay well.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Hi Anna, I'm guessing the one follower is you since Jeff is beside me talking about the ginormous gecko in his email. And if it's not you, hello one follower! If you've come across the blog, stay and read about our times here in Malawi.
Today was a very good day. One of those days that makes you put your faith back in humanity, rather than writing out the withdrawl slip. I would like to put a shout out for the most under-rated (unintentional) by-product out there....shade.
Our nights usually involve hitting the sack at about 9 -10 pm. No lie. and for the past couple of nights it's a toss-up when we get up. We either dzuka (get up) at the first or second crow of the rooster, wherever he is. Or when the muzzain (call to prayer) kicks off at 4 or 5am. we don't quite know when. after breakfast we booked it to the Kamanzi district to the village for the day.
As soon as we turned into the village, there was fantastic singing, dancing, and lots of little kids chasing after the van. I'm not sure if it was muzunga, or uzungu, but it was definitely 'whitey' they were saying. We sat thankfully under a giant tree while the introductions of the chiefs, and community groups and leaders went on, being very much the honoured guests.
The first item on the list for the day was showing us what work the NRD (Nkoma Relief and Development--the group we'll be partnering with) has taught them, which was how to differentiate the crops, and use the crops--specifically soya-- to better nurish their children. They were also taught to rotate their crops and not to rely constantly upon the omni-revered maize with which they make Sima, their meat and potatoes.
We saw a play that they put on that described what they had learned from the classes and even without translation, one could get a good laugh out of it.
They then prepared soya in all the different ways, which is more than i could have thought. (one could think of bubba from forest gump here) there's soya sima, soya beans, soya garnish, soya meat, soya cake, soya porridge, soya coffee.......
They are waiting for me for supper. I shall return...which I have. And I see in the meantime that we have two more followers! If only my complaining anywhere else produced such results!!
Anyway, after that we had some lunch. We dined on the famous nsima, chicken, and rice. Nsima could best be described as stickier, thicker cream of wheat. it wasn't bad. Like many things, lunch ran a bit late and after we were finished we were able to check out some of the fields used in NRD's new projects. The two specifically we saw were a bean field and a cassava field. They would briefly describe how the got the seed--which programmes, etc., when and how often they planted. I suppose on the way to the fields we broke rule #1 in africa. no more than 17 people plus babies in a van. I was convinced that we left half of the undercarriage on the plains somewhere, but our faithful driver Macson guided us safely, with all parts intact home.
If today, is any indication, I think that this programme is almost exactly like the one we had set out to find from the beginning. The farming, nutrition, and income generating aspects of Ubuntu looks to be off to a good start. Hanna Banda, the community development facilitator has done an exceptional job with the task she has been given.
Today was a very good day. One of those days that makes you put your faith back in humanity, rather than writing out the withdrawl slip. I would like to put a shout out for the most under-rated (unintentional) by-product out there....shade.
Our nights usually involve hitting the sack at about 9 -10 pm. No lie. and for the past couple of nights it's a toss-up when we get up. We either dzuka (get up) at the first or second crow of the rooster, wherever he is. Or when the muzzain (call to prayer) kicks off at 4 or 5am. we don't quite know when. after breakfast we booked it to the Kamanzi district to the village for the day.
As soon as we turned into the village, there was fantastic singing, dancing, and lots of little kids chasing after the van. I'm not sure if it was muzunga, or uzungu, but it was definitely 'whitey' they were saying. We sat thankfully under a giant tree while the introductions of the chiefs, and community groups and leaders went on, being very much the honoured guests.
The first item on the list for the day was showing us what work the NRD (Nkoma Relief and Development--the group we'll be partnering with) has taught them, which was how to differentiate the crops, and use the crops--specifically soya-- to better nurish their children. They were also taught to rotate their crops and not to rely constantly upon the omni-revered maize with which they make Sima, their meat and potatoes.
We saw a play that they put on that described what they had learned from the classes and even without translation, one could get a good laugh out of it.
They then prepared soya in all the different ways, which is more than i could have thought. (one could think of bubba from forest gump here) there's soya sima, soya beans, soya garnish, soya meat, soya cake, soya porridge, soya coffee.......
They are waiting for me for supper. I shall return...which I have. And I see in the meantime that we have two more followers! If only my complaining anywhere else produced such results!!
Anyway, after that we had some lunch. We dined on the famous nsima, chicken, and rice. Nsima could best be described as stickier, thicker cream of wheat. it wasn't bad. Like many things, lunch ran a bit late and after we were finished we were able to check out some of the fields used in NRD's new projects. The two specifically we saw were a bean field and a cassava field. They would briefly describe how the got the seed--which programmes, etc., when and how often they planted. I suppose on the way to the fields we broke rule #1 in africa. no more than 17 people plus babies in a van. I was convinced that we left half of the undercarriage on the plains somewhere, but our faithful driver Macson guided us safely, with all parts intact home.
If today, is any indication, I think that this programme is almost exactly like the one we had set out to find from the beginning. The farming, nutrition, and income generating aspects of Ubuntu looks to be off to a good start. Hanna Banda, the community development facilitator has done an exceptional job with the task she has been given.
Monday, April 27, 2009
hello again. today has been quite the day for us, trying to cram in some basic Chichewa language study before going out to the districts tomorrow morning. We met up with Harrison, one of the reverends in Lilongwe who was kind enough to dedicate his morning to helping us try and get some basic basic phrases down. I guess we will see how we, as students, fare tomorrow. The afternoon was engaged in discussing what our possible partnership will look like, or could look like. It will be, to say the least, quite challenging getting our two backgrounds together since we come from vastly different places. Nothing that a few attempts couldn't hash out.
Highlights from today would have to be Steers, a Zambian fast food restaurant in the mall here, and the swimming pool, which is a perfect temperature when it's in the mid to high 20s all day; speaking of which....i hear it snowed yesterday. Also, I saw, perhaps, the world's largest gecko hiding right beside my headrest. It must have been laying in wait for some poor soul to be disengaged enough so that he might try and devour them. Lucky enough, I scared him away with a deft combination of moving the bed so that it would squeak and looking menacingly in his direction.
Tomorrow morning will be coming bright and early. At about 8am we will be trekking out into the bush to meet with the people at Kimanzi village. I hope we are prepared.
Highlights from today would have to be Steers, a Zambian fast food restaurant in the mall here, and the swimming pool, which is a perfect temperature when it's in the mid to high 20s all day; speaking of which....i hear it snowed yesterday. Also, I saw, perhaps, the world's largest gecko hiding right beside my headrest. It must have been laying in wait for some poor soul to be disengaged enough so that he might try and devour them. Lucky enough, I scared him away with a deft combination of moving the bed so that it would squeak and looking menacingly in his direction.
Tomorrow morning will be coming bright and early. At about 8am we will be trekking out into the bush to meet with the people at Kimanzi village. I hope we are prepared.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
moni! (greetings) we have arrived safely. if only i couldn't say the same for the 2 year old red headed kid who screamed the whole way from minnesota to amsterdam. or his sister, who would take over for him when he needed a breath of air. lilongwe is green this time of year. and hot. it must be high 20s. we met a few people we'll be working with for the next week and a half and i think it's a promising start. we've some language training tomorrow and we are also meeting someone from the village we will be working in.
the plane ride from amsterdam to nairobi had an inauspicious start, seeing how the metal detector broke down before they loaded anyone. it was a person by person search before we could leave. that was the nadir of the trip; how bags were waiting for us when we came out despite a plane change for technical reasons. jeff, unused to british vehicle made a circumnavigation around a vehicle before finding the fron passenger seat; his weak excuse for shotgun is that he has long legs.
oh, and heather and jae enjoyed the church service this morning.
more to come....
the plane ride from amsterdam to nairobi had an inauspicious start, seeing how the metal detector broke down before they loaded anyone. it was a person by person search before we could leave. that was the nadir of the trip; how bags were waiting for us when we came out despite a plane change for technical reasons. jeff, unused to british vehicle made a circumnavigation around a vehicle before finding the fron passenger seat; his weak excuse for shotgun is that he has long legs.
oh, and heather and jae enjoyed the church service this morning.
more to come....
Sunday, April 19, 2009
I have heard that when some people go to the Sahara, or when they go to Africa in general, there is something that is so powerful in the being there that it is somewhat like a siren, always calling you nearer, over and over; like the Trevi fountain beckoning for coins, promising a return to the eternal city for pocket change; like Samuel, hearing a voice, returning to Eli. I am unsure if that is true. I suppose I will find out soon enough.
I wanted to find a poem or a short story that would, without ever having been there, encapsulate Africa. Naive, I know, but that didn't stop me from looking. Perhaps, there will be something on the return trips. Or maybe i'll drop a little Leonard Cohen for you. Something positive for what we think isn't so:
Ring the bells that still can ring
forget your perfect offering
there is a crack, a crack in everything
that's how the light gets in.
I wanted to find a poem or a short story that would, without ever having been there, encapsulate Africa. Naive, I know, but that didn't stop me from looking. Perhaps, there will be something on the return trips. Or maybe i'll drop a little Leonard Cohen for you. Something positive for what we think isn't so:
Ring the bells that still can ring
forget your perfect offering
there is a crack, a crack in everything
that's how the light gets in.
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