November Rain

Rain

The first Real Rain of the season began earlier this week. Deluge, Gullywasher, Torrential. These don’t quite cover it. It began somewhat suddenly around 6pm as I was cooking dinner and did not let up for the next 4 hours. The last few weeks have brought sporadic showers, but not the real thing. This was an incredible rain and it was really beautiful. For the first two hours. Then I was ready to go to the toilet and brush my teeth along with the other things in my evening routine. I managed to do things from the safety of my semidry covered porch, and for the first time in two months I used a sheet because it wasn’t 100 degrees in my hut. There was only one leak in my roof, which was taken care of with a bucket, like in the movies. The next few days were cooled considerably though the humidity has definitely set in.

Rains mean farmers begin going to their fields to prepare the land and plant in earnest. From 5 am to noon, the village is a virtual ghost town because everyone between the ages of 6 and 75 are at the field. Except Ambuya (granny), age 84, who keeps me company next door, she on her porch snoozing and me on mine reading and listening to the radio.

Rains also mean new critters. I was pleasantly surprised to find few bugs in my life up to this point in Zambia. Apparently, insects accompany rains. Now its ridiculously frustrating to even have a candle lit nearby me at night, nevermind my headlamp, because a million different types of insect are flying towards the light. One particular variety, local name inswa, is a popular snack so people make a big fire to catch as many as possible and roast. I haven’t yet tried this “delicacy.” I’m too annoyed at them to bother catching them. Snakes and Scorpions are also new hazards brought by the rains. I’ve been told I can no longer go to the toilet or bathe in the dark because you never know when one might be hiding. I had found a few small scorpions in my hut and didn’t see what the big deal was after I squashed them under my shoe. Then I encountered a scorpion the size of my hand and a shiver went down my spine. They can be lethal and I am now fearing.

Rain brings Mangos. Since the day I stepped off the plane into Zambia, Mango season has been built up so that I believed it would change my life for the better. It makes rainy season worth it. With the recent showers, mangos have begun to ripen. Various children brought me a couple as they returned from the field each day this week. They are very tasty, however after what started as a slight itchiness and irritation in the corners of my mouth, escalated over the last week to become a very irritated allergic reaction around my mouth and chin. I’ve been told this is a common PC allergy. So no mangos for this PCV. Honestly, they are kind of difficult to eat. More trouble than its worth, is what I’m trying to tell myself.

Rain has made gardening MUCH easier. Though possibly less satisfying in a way. My water hauling muscles will go away and I won’t spend an hour in the AM and PM watering the garden. Interestingly, the squash and zucchini I’m growing are doing beautifully and the Lepu, a Zambian staple vegetable has all died. My onions are still small and they’ll probably be harvestable in 4-6 weeks, although I really have no idea.
Work stuff is going okay. I spent way too much time in the hot season biking to schools to observe classes. I’ve had two successful community meetings recently though. At two different schools I met with communities to sensitize them on education. This basically means encouraging them to pay the volunteer teachers, send their kids to school and be involved in school development like building projects. The turnout was great at both meetings and people were really receptive. The skeptic in me knows this is at least in part because I’m a white lady to gawk at and has the potential to be a donor, at least in their minds. However, if the end effect is further development of the school in some way, it’s worth it I suppose.

This week I’m attending a training of trainers, or TOT. So I’ll be out of my village for more than a week. It’s a nice break.

American election day was really exciting and we had a party full of American food and CNN. About 9 of us volunteers met up at a guesthouse where we could watch CNN all night long. We made cheeseburgers and fries and apple pie. Our patriotism was excessive, as we decorated our bikes with American flags. I was up almost the whole night eating up all the political commentary (if you don’t know, I’m a closet political junkie). The next day, Zambians were shouting, “Obama! Obama!” as we rode around town. It was pretty exciting. Maybe Obama, will reverse all the funding cuts for Peace Corps….

That’s all for now, maybe more later this week. Happy Thanksgiving!!
Love, CJ

More photos!

Dad put up more photos I sent, so enjoy!

http://thegjfam.home.insightbb.com/Zambia2008-2010/Round2_Oct2008/index.html

October!

Its Zambian Independence Day! Happy 44th Birthday Zambia!

In Zambialand these days its very hot. It doesn’t bother me so much except at night. I wake up often because of the heat and can’t go back to sleep because I am drenched in sweat. During the day, I avoid the sun, but when part of my job is to bike to different schools it becomes a bit difficult. I’ve been toting my backpack full of water bottles to stay hydrated. The Zambians seem to think I drink an inordinate amount of water.

Some highlights of the last month have included me starting a garden and my village starting my new house. The garden is doing great and I’m growing onions, zucchini and squash. I plan to also grow watermelon and cantaloupe but I’m waiting for the rains to begin. Just with my one bed, I’ve doubled the amount of water I have to draw everyday so I’m holding off on the melons because they will require a lot of water. My neighbor is also gardening so we bond as she advises me and helps me out. The village seems proud that I’m growing something, since they are all farmers themselves.

The house they are building me has become its own telenovela. Instead of getting stressed about it, I’m trying to let them handle it and they can just tell me when to move my stuff. The reason they are building me a house is that the house I’m living in now (which I really like) belongs to my neighbor and she needs it back. When Peace Corps begins talking to a community about placing a volunteer there, they ask the community to provide housing to signify the community’s commitment to the volunteer and to the community’s own development. My community is not unwilling to do this, but they did say they would start it in June. Now its October and rain will come in two weeks and destroy their hardwork if its not completed.

A few weeks ago, I gave some teachers some Newsweek magazines to read when they asked me if I had any books they could borrow. I figured Newsweek would be harmless enough, however it turned out to be very strange to watch them flip through and be exposed to Americanness. Everything from picture captions to advertisements seems bizarre through the eyes of the Zambians. A frequent PCV comment is, Isn’t America weird?” They were particularly interested in a few stories about Michelle Obama, as the title article put it, “A real wife, in a real marriage.” Hahaha. I have to admit a bit of embarrassment on behalf of America. I realize its just what it is though. I’m trying not to negatively judge my own culture, but looking at things through a Zambians eyes does make me question, particularly advertising. Its just so odd sometimes, not necessarily bad.

Borehole wars—It is now the driest month in Zambia. There has been nary a drop of rain since early March. Luckily my borehole is staying strong and hasn’t been tapped out. I am told it will be fine. The nearby boreholes however, are struggling. A few have broken. So my borehole is getting used more intensively than normal. To fix broken boreholes it can be really expensive, so often it takes awhile for the village to raise the money or find it. The school where my borehole sits is considering locking it up outside of school hours to control whom is using it, or start charging for use. This doesn’t seem right to me but I don’t know what the solution is.

I have been following American politics as best I can. I even woke up at 3 am for the final McCain-Obama debate. After an hour I got bored and tired and went back to sleep. Zambians are really interested in the election. They have a lot of opinions about Afghanistan, Iraq, Bush, Obama, the economy, etc. Same goes for their own election which is October 30.

Village life is going well. No one should be surprised that my vermin saga continues. When I awoke one evening to a sprinkle on my face and expected to find a bat perched above, I instead found my arch-nemisis, Mr. Mouse crawling on my mosquito net. I have no idea how a net managed to support his weight, even though he wasn’t that big. It was really creepy, but I just went back to sleep after he crawled off. Multiple poison varieties and a trap have failed to kill him. Three nights in a row, he managed to snap the peanut off the trap and not get caught. I have to give him some serious credit for that, in addition to gnawing on some impressive objects. I was expecting a gigantic rat, but really he’s just a little guy. I keep imagining that story that I read when a kid of the mice that lived in the dollhouse playing house and drinking tea.

Thank you for the recent packages I received from Mom’s book clubs. I even had a dream the other night that I went home to visit and it was Book Club night. Hahaha. The packages were awesome and its pretty thrilling to get them. So ThankS!

Missing everyone at home, drop me a email, comment or facebook message!
Say hello to Fall, pumpkins, apple cider and Christmas decorations, hehe!
Love, Caitlin

How a sticker relates to development theory:)

I had a kid steal a sticker from me the other day. After washing my pots, I let them choose a sticker and then they like to look at the rest. They never take more than one sticker. However, the other day when they left I noticed many more stickers gone than pots scrubbed. I’ll be honest, I felt betrayed. I thought these kids were cool; I thought they were my friends. Its just a sticker, but its also the principle behind it. Really more than one principle, even. Stealing is bad, they shouldn’t steal from me or anyone. However, it also brings up the issue of volunteers being seen as “donors.” Because so many NGOs, Aid agencies, missionaries frequently address development by giving both things and money away, a relationship of dependence often develops among those in developing nations. An organization (typically white people) comes in and dumps a bunch of food or stuff on a community for a number or years and then when the organization pulls out and moves on, the people are left not knowing how to satisfy their needs. When PCV CJ moves in they see another white person and just more money. Every new group that I work with has to be sensitized to the idea that I’m not here to give them money or even stickers. Peace Corps philosophy is about capacity-building, developing people not things, and teaching people to meet their own needs. Many people ask me if I know donors who can help them. While I know of some grants to apply for, this is not the point of me being here and I hesitate to associate with a project that will perpetuate the idea of “white person as donor.” This is also why when people at home ask me how they can help or what they send me that my villagers need or would like, I am hesitant. What they need can’t be sent in a box from America. To be fair, many development organizations are moving away from the donation paradigm but it continues to persist and is frustrating for those of us trying to offer a different approach. So while I feel like an old curmudgeon complaining about a sticker thief, there is more to it than the loss of a dime-sized piece of entertainment.

tsitsi lali fupi (short hair)

So the hair is gone. Why would she be so crazy, you might be asking yourself.
1. I’m in Africa. Less than 10 degrees south of the Equator. Its HOT.
2.Its really hard to keep your hair clean, no matter the season, when you wash it upside down in a bucket.
3. I would never have the nerve to do this in America, and a lot of Zambian women have hair this short so I blend in a bit more.
4. As a result of living in a foreign environment, my hair is falling out. Not in chunks but just enough to be annoying. The medical officer told me this is one of the most common complaints of PCVs worldwide, due to the stress of living weirdly.
5. To let go of a natural vanity most women have regarding their hair (I haven’t shaved my legs in 7 months either! Imagine!?)
6. Its just hair, it will grow back.
7. I think secretly, I was always jealous that my brother could do this as a kid and be so cool in the summer. I’ve always wondered what it would be like.

I can’t stop rubbing my head.
The wind-in-my-hair thing has a whole new meaning now.

My mom said, “It looks weird, it will look better when it grows out.”
My friend said, “Man, I wish we had a basketball court here.” (In reference to the very round orangeness in front of him)
The housekeeper here in Chipata said I look like a boy.

I’m really enjoying it so far.

Phew, this will make the hot season cooler.

September 10, 2008

6 months in Zambia! Woot!
So upon returning to my village after being away for two weeks I felt a bit lost. The city, transport, and training were all highly stimulating so back to village life I felt a bit underwhelmed. School break had been extended a week because of the death of the President, so i didn't have much to do. The villagers were often gone or busy, so I was a bit lonely. Also, I discovered that my various vermin had decided to re-take up residence in my house while I was away. Yes. Bats and Rats. I'll spare the details because I feel like this blog has become a story of Peace Corps volunteer vs. the common pest. Anyway, this mad me both furious and a bit depressed. After I discovered the mouse had somehow worked its way into my bag of peanut M&Ms from Monika (who sent me a super awesome package!) it was the last straw. You just don't mess with my M&Ms. My counterattack has begun. Yesterday I purchased poison and hopefully the sucker is now dead. However, I am scared that he has crawled into my roof and may at some point just fall on me. or my stuff. Mice are so stressful. I'm also fearing that I will wake up to a giant fat rat dead on my floor. Why am I so afraid?

School finally started yesterday, so I have stuff to do. What I'm doing...still not exactly sure. Feeling my way in the dark.

Its hotttt in Zambia, only to get hotter.

I miss everyone from home!! Thanks for the recent packages!! Mom and friends, Zack and family, Monika , Dad and Pat!

Email me!

Love,
Caitlin