I've copied and pasted an e-mail that i just got from AJWS about the new bill in congress to support ending the restrictions on US funding for HIV/AIDS projects. this may be one of the most political things i ever write on this blog since mostly it seems to be about my own musings. BUT i think this is a pretty critical issue. right now, PEPFAR funding in Africa (which is an amazing resource and is putting tons of people on meds) basically puts huge restrictions on organizations talking about condoms and/or abortions. in africa, when an organization that works with HIGH SCHOOL students can't talk about condoms that funding is doing those kids a HUGE disservice. they are having sex and though abstinence is definitely the only way to protect yourself fully, most kids don't decide to do that and many many women don't really HAVE the choice. we need to give them the most possible information about ways in which they can protect themselves and condoms are an obvious, easy, cheap way to do that!
don't get me too wrong. i think PEPFAR is an amazing initiative, but to put restrictions on it in these ways minimizes its impact, which at a time like this is a unjustice to those it is attempting to serve.
please read the letter below (an e-mail from American Jewish World Service), read up on the bill yourself, and call your reps to get them involved in making our AIDS work that much more effective.
Dear Hannah,
Today, roughly 40 million people worldwide are infected with HIV, the virus that leads to AIDS. As you might already know, AJWS is a strong supporter of increased U.S. global funding for HIV and AIDS prevention, treatment and care.
We are deeply concerned, however, about restrictions in U.S. funding that are undermining efforts to prevent the greatest number of new infections possible. Each year, there are well over four million new infections, and the highest rates of new infections are among women and youth ages 15 to 24. Unfortunately, a large share of U.S. global AIDS funding for prevention currently goes to abstinence-only-until marriage programs that have been discredited by experts in the United States and abroad.
As Congress approaches its August recess, we need YOUR help to change these policies.
Please call and urge your Representative to cosponsor the PATHWAY Act (Protection Against Transmission of HIV for Women and Youth Act) of 2007, HR 1713. The PATHWAY Act would eliminate funding restrictions on prevention programs, and require the President to develop a plan to strengthen prevention strategies aimed at women and youth.
Making the call is easy. Here is the number and a sample script:
Call Representative Kennedy at (202) 225-4911
My name is __________ and I'm from __________. I'm calling to ask [insert your Representative's name here] to cosponsor the PATHWAY Act of 2007(HR 1713), which would remove the 33% abstinence-until-marriage earmark on global HIV prevention funding. As a constituent, it is important to me that U.S. funding goes toward providing effective, comprehensive HIV prevention programs. Thank you.
So please, pick up the phone today and make your voice heard. And remember to click here after you complete your call, so we can track our progress.
Thank you for taking action to fight this global pandemic.
AJWS Action Team
Saturday, July 28, 2007
the last month
Wow, it’s been a long time since I last wrote. And it’s been an up and down time. We’ll start with the down, but I promise that because this is really long, that if you read further you’ll get to the up part!
Starting about a month ago I had a very challenging two weeks at site. It started with thinking that maybe someone got into my house. This wasn’t really that big a deal because the only thing that seemed to be missing were biscuits (cookies, sorry for the British speak!). But it just made me feel violated in a similar way to when my ipod was taken… that my house is my one safe space in some ways, when I want to ignore people, when I need to listen to music or write, when I cook, it’s my space and the only person that really comes in is Christen, the girl who gets my water and takes care of the house and cats when I’m gone… so when it seemed like someone had gotten in I just felt like I didn’t have a space in quite the same way. It didn’t happen again so I’ve tried to stop worrying.
That was followed by a pretty crazy bike accident. I was fine and it happened because me and another guy collided (I don’t really know whose fault it was… there seems to be no rhyme or reason to the side of the road you ride your bike on here, so who knows?!). I was fine, he was fine, but my bike was bent. Luckily for me I was getting a site visit from one of my supervisors in Lusaka and one in Kasama and the guy from Kasama was able to fix my bike the next day!
But, before they came and the bike was fixed I had a crazy man come to my house and scream and threaten me. This, Peace Corps decided, was serious enough that I should take it to the police. So, along with fixing my bike, my two supervisors and I spent a day at the police station arresting the guy. It seems that he was crazy and possibly also high, not sure. He was very crazy at my house, very crazy at the police station, and then on day 2 at the police station he was much more sane and apologetic and, seemingly, aware. So, I decided not to prosecute and not to go to court if he signed a statement saying he wouldn’t come back to my house and that he understood if he did I would go back to the police. I also haven’t seen him again and am, again, trying not to worry! The whole thing was kind of scary but also really encouraging. So many of my neighbors came to me to say that they hoped I was ok and that he was crazy and that they wanted me to stay and that they knew he shouldn’t come back and would keep him away if he tried to! So, women in the market and the man who runs a guesthouse on the other side of town and my neighbors and teachers all told me I shouldn’t worry and they would keep me safe, which is nice to know.
The two weeks culminated with a fire at my house. This is particularly scary because I have thatch roofing on my hut, so hypothetically it could just all go up in flames, which happens fairly frequently, especially while they burn the bush. Luckily the kids, who are always at my house, saw smoke coming from the house and quickly got my neighbors who literally broke down my door and put the fire out. It seems that the fire started from left over coals that the cats knocked a bag of charcoal onto. Everything was fine but this may have been the scariest part of the two weeks… just feeling like in some many ways I am incompetent and that I can loose that one safe space I have. It was the first time that feeling here just felt soooo out of control. I had several tearful conversations with my mom and the phone about feeling helpless. I also had three of the women who I’m closest to in my village come into my house and hug me as I cried just about being scared right as I ran into the house after the fire had been put out. It was scary to let them in like that in some ways, but also good, to let myself be loved by them I think. Good to realize that there are people who are getting to the point that they can also take care of me emotionally, which is so hard to do when you’re just getting to know each other and have, at times, a lot of difficulty communicating.
But, in some ways, if I was going to feel unsettled and lonely and in need of other volunteers it couldn’t have been better timed because I got to leave right after that. Two days later I headed down to Lusaka for the next set of our PC trainings. It’s called In Service Training (or IST) and it’s the people from your group (for me the health and education volunteers who came in January) and then the same programs from the year before (health and ed from 2006). I came down a day early on a bus where I spent a third of the ride on a box in the aisle and then the next third squished into the back corner with all of the luggage people STUFFED onto the bus and then, finally, the last third I got some space and some sleep.
Then, when I finally got to Lusaka, I went to visit my host family from training. It was really fun to see them and I gave them some of the pics I took when I was with them… of my mom and dad and of my sisters dancing and my adorable little nephew. They loved them and just passed them around and around. We got to meet a bunch of the new trainees which was also fun. It’s crazy to think how much I’ve learned and how comfortable I feel with even just 4 more months than them… language, ability to negotiate, ability to get places by myself on transport, images and ideas I have about my job and my routine and life… I spent the night at the training site and then headed into Lusaka the next day.
IST was really pretty good. I was anticipating being frustrated by it; but mostly, I think, it was good to see people again and now that we have a much better idea of what we’re doing and what we WANT to do we can look at each other as resources in a new and more constructive way. So even though the week was overwhelming and I finished it feeling like I still have A LOT of organizing to do before I can get anything done with any of my projects I felt more excited about actually getting some of that work done.
So, some of the projects I’m working on, both limited to my head and already going with Zambian counterparts, are a zonal resource center at my head school, a library at another school, a writing contest to help open the library another volunteer is starting, linking up with micro-loan programs to get some of my women’s groups loans, a tree-planting project (people at Hillels or synagogues, I’d LOVE to hear from you!), continued IGA trainings with schools in my area, and a youth group. It seems like A LOT and I might go nuts, but, we’ll see!
Finally, after that week in Lusaka several other volunteers and I headed to Malawi for a few days. We went to Nkata Bay, which is quite possibly one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. Lake Malawi is one of the Rift Valley lakes and so the mountains of the escarpment just come shooting straight down into the lake. Apparently the deepest part of the lake is near where we were and does down 700 meters! We stayed at this beautiful little place called Myoka Village which is just chalets built on to the cliffs. They serve food and you can swim (schisto here I come!) and just sit in the sun or hammock and look out at the beautiful lake. I miss water and I miss swimming and it was warm and just sooooo incredibly beautiful. I felt so at peace being there.
Mostly my friend Keli and I did our planning together even though we were there with other people. SO, we went back together while other people stayed for a bit longer and our ride back was pretty eventful. We tried to hitch for a couple hours and right when we finally decided to give up and go pay for a slow, crowded mini-bus another muzungu (white person) pulled over. He was going to Lilongwe and would, of course, take us! We were super excited, got in the car, chatted with him. He’s a visiting American professor teaching at a Malawian university about computer security and his brother was a PCVolunteer in Latin America. Amazing! Unfortunately about half an hour into our ride, his car broke down. He hitched a ride back to town while we decided to stay there and try to catch another ride at least heading in the direction of Lilongwe. Someone pulled over pretty quickly but in the process of the 6 hour drive south said he had a quick “20 minute” stop at a bank. It turned into half an hour there and half an hour back and an hour at the bank and then he forgot something and had to go back.
So we left Nkata Bay at 6:30 and arrived in Lilongwe around 7 at night with a lot of waiting, some riding in the back of a truck, and some being squished in the cab together as part of those 12 hours. Our plan had been to make it back to Zambia but we couldn’t really after it got dark and so we stayed at the Lilongwe Peace Corps house instead, which ended up being really nice. It was really interesting to meet some of the Malawi volunteers and we got to meet some of the new ones who swore in two days ago and were posted today!
I feel like since so much has happened in the last month I’m skimming over a lot… so maybe I’ll put some of the undeveloped thoughts that have come up in that month here and let you let your minds wander over them. Send e-mails or letters for more depth or questions!
As we were heading to the Malawi border it was a gray day and the clouds were floating in between the mountains at the border. It was Sunday so traffic was quiet but there were still a lot of people riding their bikes into town… the quiet peacefulness of these men riding their bicycles up and down the hills made me feel calm and that I life in a beautiful place. Bikes are so important here. They are a symbol of some wealth since they aren’t cheap and they are literal means of connection. People ride them miles and miles with all sorts of things on them. My favorite of the last two weeks was a door frame. But it’s wood and goal and people and food. One of the girls in my training group commented during training about how the US is full of cars that only one person drives while bikes in Zambia transport whole families and livelihoods.
When we were in Malawi I started to realize how much I’ve started to notice little things about Zambia. My first response to the houses on the side of the road in Malawi was that they seemed to be better structures than in Zambia. One might think this means bigger or not huts or something but for me it meant that I noticed there were more tin roofs and that often the thatch was done different or what looked like better or that there were many many more structures made out of brick (as opposed to mud) and that many more people seemed to have real doors and glass windows. Glass windows, tin roofs, and bricks now seem to be my categorization of a much better living structure… something I probably wouldn’t have even noticed 6 months ago when I first got here.
When we got back to the Zambia-Malawi border there were a couple other Americans who were having trouble with some of the border officials. They weren’t communicating well with each other and the fact that it now costs Americans $100 to get Zambian visas was surprising to them… Keli and I quickly became the in-betweens. All I had to do was start my conversation with a bit of Bemba and then ask about the problem and suddenly people were happy. This feeling that I could effectively communicate with the Zambian officials (mostly in English) because of how I’ve learned to speak “Zambian” kind of, felt very empowering… The immigration officer noticed that I bowed a bit at the knees when another Zambian handed me something and he laughed and said “We will have to give you honorary Zambian citizenship! You even know to bow when you give and receive! You are becoming a Zambian!” Since much of the time I feel that all I do here is stand out and act as the receiving end to people wanting to ask me for money joking with him and some of the police officers felt amazing.
One of the other volunteers here has her sister visiting and she’s been able to be here for a couple months, which seems so wonderful. But, she and I were talking about writing home and how her images from her sister’s letters and e-mails and conversations were SO different than what she’s seeing here, now… so I can only imagine the pictures I am creating in all of your minds. I feel I do some of it justice and then just misrepresent, or maybe just incompletely represent, so much… the invitation is open to anyone to come and visit. This country is so vibrant and beautiful and also lacking so much that is so hard to describe as opposed to just see and soak in. The same goes for Malawi… but even if you can’t come visit I hope anyone reading this feels welcome to push me to answer specifics. Ask me what you want and I’ll try to be as fair and direct as possible!
Starting about a month ago I had a very challenging two weeks at site. It started with thinking that maybe someone got into my house. This wasn’t really that big a deal because the only thing that seemed to be missing were biscuits (cookies, sorry for the British speak!). But it just made me feel violated in a similar way to when my ipod was taken… that my house is my one safe space in some ways, when I want to ignore people, when I need to listen to music or write, when I cook, it’s my space and the only person that really comes in is Christen, the girl who gets my water and takes care of the house and cats when I’m gone… so when it seemed like someone had gotten in I just felt like I didn’t have a space in quite the same way. It didn’t happen again so I’ve tried to stop worrying.
That was followed by a pretty crazy bike accident. I was fine and it happened because me and another guy collided (I don’t really know whose fault it was… there seems to be no rhyme or reason to the side of the road you ride your bike on here, so who knows?!). I was fine, he was fine, but my bike was bent. Luckily for me I was getting a site visit from one of my supervisors in Lusaka and one in Kasama and the guy from Kasama was able to fix my bike the next day!
But, before they came and the bike was fixed I had a crazy man come to my house and scream and threaten me. This, Peace Corps decided, was serious enough that I should take it to the police. So, along with fixing my bike, my two supervisors and I spent a day at the police station arresting the guy. It seems that he was crazy and possibly also high, not sure. He was very crazy at my house, very crazy at the police station, and then on day 2 at the police station he was much more sane and apologetic and, seemingly, aware. So, I decided not to prosecute and not to go to court if he signed a statement saying he wouldn’t come back to my house and that he understood if he did I would go back to the police. I also haven’t seen him again and am, again, trying not to worry! The whole thing was kind of scary but also really encouraging. So many of my neighbors came to me to say that they hoped I was ok and that he was crazy and that they wanted me to stay and that they knew he shouldn’t come back and would keep him away if he tried to! So, women in the market and the man who runs a guesthouse on the other side of town and my neighbors and teachers all told me I shouldn’t worry and they would keep me safe, which is nice to know.
The two weeks culminated with a fire at my house. This is particularly scary because I have thatch roofing on my hut, so hypothetically it could just all go up in flames, which happens fairly frequently, especially while they burn the bush. Luckily the kids, who are always at my house, saw smoke coming from the house and quickly got my neighbors who literally broke down my door and put the fire out. It seems that the fire started from left over coals that the cats knocked a bag of charcoal onto. Everything was fine but this may have been the scariest part of the two weeks… just feeling like in some many ways I am incompetent and that I can loose that one safe space I have. It was the first time that feeling here just felt soooo out of control. I had several tearful conversations with my mom and the phone about feeling helpless. I also had three of the women who I’m closest to in my village come into my house and hug me as I cried just about being scared right as I ran into the house after the fire had been put out. It was scary to let them in like that in some ways, but also good, to let myself be loved by them I think. Good to realize that there are people who are getting to the point that they can also take care of me emotionally, which is so hard to do when you’re just getting to know each other and have, at times, a lot of difficulty communicating.
But, in some ways, if I was going to feel unsettled and lonely and in need of other volunteers it couldn’t have been better timed because I got to leave right after that. Two days later I headed down to Lusaka for the next set of our PC trainings. It’s called In Service Training (or IST) and it’s the people from your group (for me the health and education volunteers who came in January) and then the same programs from the year before (health and ed from 2006). I came down a day early on a bus where I spent a third of the ride on a box in the aisle and then the next third squished into the back corner with all of the luggage people STUFFED onto the bus and then, finally, the last third I got some space and some sleep.
Then, when I finally got to Lusaka, I went to visit my host family from training. It was really fun to see them and I gave them some of the pics I took when I was with them… of my mom and dad and of my sisters dancing and my adorable little nephew. They loved them and just passed them around and around. We got to meet a bunch of the new trainees which was also fun. It’s crazy to think how much I’ve learned and how comfortable I feel with even just 4 more months than them… language, ability to negotiate, ability to get places by myself on transport, images and ideas I have about my job and my routine and life… I spent the night at the training site and then headed into Lusaka the next day.
IST was really pretty good. I was anticipating being frustrated by it; but mostly, I think, it was good to see people again and now that we have a much better idea of what we’re doing and what we WANT to do we can look at each other as resources in a new and more constructive way. So even though the week was overwhelming and I finished it feeling like I still have A LOT of organizing to do before I can get anything done with any of my projects I felt more excited about actually getting some of that work done.
So, some of the projects I’m working on, both limited to my head and already going with Zambian counterparts, are a zonal resource center at my head school, a library at another school, a writing contest to help open the library another volunteer is starting, linking up with micro-loan programs to get some of my women’s groups loans, a tree-planting project (people at Hillels or synagogues, I’d LOVE to hear from you!), continued IGA trainings with schools in my area, and a youth group. It seems like A LOT and I might go nuts, but, we’ll see!
Finally, after that week in Lusaka several other volunteers and I headed to Malawi for a few days. We went to Nkata Bay, which is quite possibly one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. Lake Malawi is one of the Rift Valley lakes and so the mountains of the escarpment just come shooting straight down into the lake. Apparently the deepest part of the lake is near where we were and does down 700 meters! We stayed at this beautiful little place called Myoka Village which is just chalets built on to the cliffs. They serve food and you can swim (schisto here I come!) and just sit in the sun or hammock and look out at the beautiful lake. I miss water and I miss swimming and it was warm and just sooooo incredibly beautiful. I felt so at peace being there.
Mostly my friend Keli and I did our planning together even though we were there with other people. SO, we went back together while other people stayed for a bit longer and our ride back was pretty eventful. We tried to hitch for a couple hours and right when we finally decided to give up and go pay for a slow, crowded mini-bus another muzungu (white person) pulled over. He was going to Lilongwe and would, of course, take us! We were super excited, got in the car, chatted with him. He’s a visiting American professor teaching at a Malawian university about computer security and his brother was a PCVolunteer in Latin America. Amazing! Unfortunately about half an hour into our ride, his car broke down. He hitched a ride back to town while we decided to stay there and try to catch another ride at least heading in the direction of Lilongwe. Someone pulled over pretty quickly but in the process of the 6 hour drive south said he had a quick “20 minute” stop at a bank. It turned into half an hour there and half an hour back and an hour at the bank and then he forgot something and had to go back.
So we left Nkata Bay at 6:30 and arrived in Lilongwe around 7 at night with a lot of waiting, some riding in the back of a truck, and some being squished in the cab together as part of those 12 hours. Our plan had been to make it back to Zambia but we couldn’t really after it got dark and so we stayed at the Lilongwe Peace Corps house instead, which ended up being really nice. It was really interesting to meet some of the Malawi volunteers and we got to meet some of the new ones who swore in two days ago and were posted today!
I feel like since so much has happened in the last month I’m skimming over a lot… so maybe I’ll put some of the undeveloped thoughts that have come up in that month here and let you let your minds wander over them. Send e-mails or letters for more depth or questions!
As we were heading to the Malawi border it was a gray day and the clouds were floating in between the mountains at the border. It was Sunday so traffic was quiet but there were still a lot of people riding their bikes into town… the quiet peacefulness of these men riding their bicycles up and down the hills made me feel calm and that I life in a beautiful place. Bikes are so important here. They are a symbol of some wealth since they aren’t cheap and they are literal means of connection. People ride them miles and miles with all sorts of things on them. My favorite of the last two weeks was a door frame. But it’s wood and goal and people and food. One of the girls in my training group commented during training about how the US is full of cars that only one person drives while bikes in Zambia transport whole families and livelihoods.
When we were in Malawi I started to realize how much I’ve started to notice little things about Zambia. My first response to the houses on the side of the road in Malawi was that they seemed to be better structures than in Zambia. One might think this means bigger or not huts or something but for me it meant that I noticed there were more tin roofs and that often the thatch was done different or what looked like better or that there were many many more structures made out of brick (as opposed to mud) and that many more people seemed to have real doors and glass windows. Glass windows, tin roofs, and bricks now seem to be my categorization of a much better living structure… something I probably wouldn’t have even noticed 6 months ago when I first got here.
When we got back to the Zambia-Malawi border there were a couple other Americans who were having trouble with some of the border officials. They weren’t communicating well with each other and the fact that it now costs Americans $100 to get Zambian visas was surprising to them… Keli and I quickly became the in-betweens. All I had to do was start my conversation with a bit of Bemba and then ask about the problem and suddenly people were happy. This feeling that I could effectively communicate with the Zambian officials (mostly in English) because of how I’ve learned to speak “Zambian” kind of, felt very empowering… The immigration officer noticed that I bowed a bit at the knees when another Zambian handed me something and he laughed and said “We will have to give you honorary Zambian citizenship! You even know to bow when you give and receive! You are becoming a Zambian!” Since much of the time I feel that all I do here is stand out and act as the receiving end to people wanting to ask me for money joking with him and some of the police officers felt amazing.
One of the other volunteers here has her sister visiting and she’s been able to be here for a couple months, which seems so wonderful. But, she and I were talking about writing home and how her images from her sister’s letters and e-mails and conversations were SO different than what she’s seeing here, now… so I can only imagine the pictures I am creating in all of your minds. I feel I do some of it justice and then just misrepresent, or maybe just incompletely represent, so much… the invitation is open to anyone to come and visit. This country is so vibrant and beautiful and also lacking so much that is so hard to describe as opposed to just see and soak in. The same goes for Malawi… but even if you can’t come visit I hope anyone reading this feels welcome to push me to answer specifics. Ask me what you want and I’ll try to be as fair and direct as possible!
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
creating routine
Things I miss:
-showerheads
-hot showers
-change in stores
-paved roads
Moments to remember:
- the fact that a complaint by the teachers at a school nearby were complaining of being “haunted” at night in their houses was taken seriously at the weekly staff meeting at the ministry of education
- I’m better at keeping up with “The New Yorker” here than I was when I was commuting in DC!
- I’ve started taking a survey each morning of how many people greet me: kids, adults, people I know, people I don’t know, in Bemba, in English, because I greet them first, because they greet me first. Haven’t gotten any numbers yet but let’s just say I’m never ignored. The last time I went to Kasama, where the PC house is, I got back and someone in town (not my village, the town, which is also the district capital) said “Oh, Ba Anna, you are back from Kasama!” oy.
ok, what i'm up too...
I find myself struggling with some of these blog entries. I know I’ve already written this, but I feel it’s hard to capture this reality in a way that will make any sense or be real. How do I capture what’s beautiful and what’s awful in a way that does justice to the people here and to my experience and my observations?
How do I capture the little kids screaming my name as I ride by on my bike? Or my neighbor waving to me in the morning with the traditional greeting “Oh, you’ve woken!”? (to which you reply, “yes, I have!” as if to just be grateful for that very fact). Or the sunsets that I get to watch from my house everyday? Or the teachers who ride over 20 km just to tell me they want me to come out to their schools and to set up a meeting? Or my neighbors who bring me food or teach me how to make Zambian food when they hardly have enough?
And then how do I capture the ironies and the pain… that the bank I go to doesn’t have a phone (let alone a computer or internet)? That the school one of my friends works with has 25 teachers for 1500 students? That one of the high schools near me had a 28% passing rate on last year’s grade 12 exams? That the women in one of my women’s groups estimated that their families live on an average of about $1000/year? I could easily pay that in rent per month when I come back to America and their entire families live on that in a year… That people want desperately to protect themselves against HIV but 1 in 5 people here is HIV+ and yet I haven’t met one person willing to say that they are in my village. 1 in 5 and I haven’t met one.
I think one of the most difficult things about being here is the up and down of each day. That I can have such successes: a neighbor asks for lit charcoal because I’ve successfully lit my fire, a meeting goes well, I say something correctly in Bemba. And they are also full of such questions and unknowns or struggles: how do I say something? Why won’t the kids listen to me? What can I teach a group of women who have nothing to start of with in terms of resources? Will a plan I have for a meeting work?
A friend a couple days ago said that the way she was looking at what we’re doing here is that it’s a learning process for everyone involved. That we’re learning: how to teach, how to organize, how to plan, how to communicate, what it means to develop or, I guess, fail in development. So, we’re coming in as educated individuals ready to work hard and that worst comes to worst we learn what doesn’t work and if nothing else our villages are no worse off then when we came, but we’re more equipped to move our projects/work further when we’re done here. That makes it sound like it’s all about me, us, the Peace Corps volunteers… which I don’t think is quite fair. We all fit ourselves into the “next step” in some way, shape, or form. The skills at facilitating, asking question, evaluating and adjusting seem to be things that we will just improve on, both throughout our time here and for wherever we head to next.
In other project news, the women’s group in my village came to a meeting and was huge! So, we’ve now divided them into 4 groups and are starting at the beginning… what they want to change about their community, what they want to learn in order to start that change, what they need in order to do it. I’m organizing a 3 hour business training workshop in two weeks. I often find myself asking if I really know enough to do these trainings, but then I often realize that I do; that what I come with in terms of skills and training and understanding of business just from living in the states is often more than the women in my village have the opportunity to experience. So, we’ll start with the basics and see where it goes.
Another project idea that recently came up was thinking about the deforestation here and the lack of big trees. I’d love to hear people’s thoughts on this idea… do you think we could partner up with hillels and synagogues to do a Tu B’Shevat campaign that would plant trees HERE? My idea is that we could plant fruit trees, so that people wouldn’t cut them down, in and around schools. The fruit could either be given to the kids or sold by the school as a form of income generation and they would combat the problem of shade and deforestation in the long run. It could also be combined with a series of lessons on environmentalism… Thoughts? Send them to me!
ok, i have to run. internet is getting expensive and i have to run to the grocery store before it closes. so i have lots more to say but it will have to wait. until then i LOVE personal e-mails, letters, questions, concerns, so send them on! and i even usually respond to them!! kisses to everyone.
-showerheads
-hot showers
-change in stores
-paved roads
Moments to remember:
- the fact that a complaint by the teachers at a school nearby were complaining of being “haunted” at night in their houses was taken seriously at the weekly staff meeting at the ministry of education
- I’m better at keeping up with “The New Yorker” here than I was when I was commuting in DC!
- I’ve started taking a survey each morning of how many people greet me: kids, adults, people I know, people I don’t know, in Bemba, in English, because I greet them first, because they greet me first. Haven’t gotten any numbers yet but let’s just say I’m never ignored. The last time I went to Kasama, where the PC house is, I got back and someone in town (not my village, the town, which is also the district capital) said “Oh, Ba Anna, you are back from Kasama!” oy.
ok, what i'm up too...
I find myself struggling with some of these blog entries. I know I’ve already written this, but I feel it’s hard to capture this reality in a way that will make any sense or be real. How do I capture what’s beautiful and what’s awful in a way that does justice to the people here and to my experience and my observations?
How do I capture the little kids screaming my name as I ride by on my bike? Or my neighbor waving to me in the morning with the traditional greeting “Oh, you’ve woken!”? (to which you reply, “yes, I have!” as if to just be grateful for that very fact). Or the sunsets that I get to watch from my house everyday? Or the teachers who ride over 20 km just to tell me they want me to come out to their schools and to set up a meeting? Or my neighbors who bring me food or teach me how to make Zambian food when they hardly have enough?
And then how do I capture the ironies and the pain… that the bank I go to doesn’t have a phone (let alone a computer or internet)? That the school one of my friends works with has 25 teachers for 1500 students? That one of the high schools near me had a 28% passing rate on last year’s grade 12 exams? That the women in one of my women’s groups estimated that their families live on an average of about $1000/year? I could easily pay that in rent per month when I come back to America and their entire families live on that in a year… That people want desperately to protect themselves against HIV but 1 in 5 people here is HIV+ and yet I haven’t met one person willing to say that they are in my village. 1 in 5 and I haven’t met one.
I think one of the most difficult things about being here is the up and down of each day. That I can have such successes: a neighbor asks for lit charcoal because I’ve successfully lit my fire, a meeting goes well, I say something correctly in Bemba. And they are also full of such questions and unknowns or struggles: how do I say something? Why won’t the kids listen to me? What can I teach a group of women who have nothing to start of with in terms of resources? Will a plan I have for a meeting work?
A friend a couple days ago said that the way she was looking at what we’re doing here is that it’s a learning process for everyone involved. That we’re learning: how to teach, how to organize, how to plan, how to communicate, what it means to develop or, I guess, fail in development. So, we’re coming in as educated individuals ready to work hard and that worst comes to worst we learn what doesn’t work and if nothing else our villages are no worse off then when we came, but we’re more equipped to move our projects/work further when we’re done here. That makes it sound like it’s all about me, us, the Peace Corps volunteers… which I don’t think is quite fair. We all fit ourselves into the “next step” in some way, shape, or form. The skills at facilitating, asking question, evaluating and adjusting seem to be things that we will just improve on, both throughout our time here and for wherever we head to next.
In other project news, the women’s group in my village came to a meeting and was huge! So, we’ve now divided them into 4 groups and are starting at the beginning… what they want to change about their community, what they want to learn in order to start that change, what they need in order to do it. I’m organizing a 3 hour business training workshop in two weeks. I often find myself asking if I really know enough to do these trainings, but then I often realize that I do; that what I come with in terms of skills and training and understanding of business just from living in the states is often more than the women in my village have the opportunity to experience. So, we’ll start with the basics and see where it goes.
Another project idea that recently came up was thinking about the deforestation here and the lack of big trees. I’d love to hear people’s thoughts on this idea… do you think we could partner up with hillels and synagogues to do a Tu B’Shevat campaign that would plant trees HERE? My idea is that we could plant fruit trees, so that people wouldn’t cut them down, in and around schools. The fruit could either be given to the kids or sold by the school as a form of income generation and they would combat the problem of shade and deforestation in the long run. It could also be combined with a series of lessons on environmentalism… Thoughts? Send them to me!
ok, i have to run. internet is getting expensive and i have to run to the grocery store before it closes. so i have lots more to say but it will have to wait. until then i LOVE personal e-mails, letters, questions, concerns, so send them on! and i even usually respond to them!! kisses to everyone.
Friday, June 08, 2007
starting to figure out what i'm doing here
So, it’s been a while since I wrote… I think partly it’s because internet is expensive and I try to be quick, but partly it’s a hesitation on my part to try to capture this world. That no matter what I write I won’t quite get it “right.” Partly I want to explain the good parts but feel that that won’t quite capture the complexity of being here. And then partly I want to explain the frustrations, but I fear a misunderstanding of what I write… a simplification, an image that this place and these people are something that they aren’t… but, I’ll try.
Each day here seems to have so many ups and downs. Greeting my neighbors, having successful meetings, understanding Bemba better, learning how to cook new foods, watching the beautiful sunsets from my house, playing with my kitties, are combined with feeling lonely or that I still don’t know what I’m doing here, with my cats waking me up early, still not understanding complicated conversations, meetings not happening or being cancelled after sitting somewhere for two hours… I know that I don’t need to know what I’m doing here exactly. Several people have told me to have patience and faith and those are both things to work on and to develop and to learn. Yet, my brain desires some clarity at times and maybe to my dismay, I also desire a feeling of productivity.
That said, things here continue to settle more and more and the ups happen more often. I am starting to have lots of meetings in the next month, with schools, with women’s groups, and with kids. I’m working mostly on trying to get some of the schools to start Income Generating Activities (IGAs). In Peace Corps lingo we seem to not want to just call it “business.” Not sure why! Maybe it’s the development system’s fear of admitting that business is a key component to development and empowerment.
Anyway, I’m working with schools on IGAs and also starting to work with some women’s groups to start action plans and to think about how to generate money for the group and their communities. I had a meeting yesterday with women but it was cancelled because a man from the disaster management office in Lusaka had come up to do an evaluation and wanted to meet with the women. So, there were probably about 40 women there! Which is really exciting! And we’ve re-scheduled for tomorrow.
I’ve also started working with a group of 9th grade prefects at the school in town. We are doing a “leadership” class, which is something I struggle with a bit. What does it mean to teach these kids to be leaders? What are leaders in their community? And how do you teach kids, who have SO rarely been taught and encouraged to think creatively and outside the box, to do so?
My Bemba is getting better, though it’s still pretty limited to everyday usage. I can talk with my neighbors, I can communicate with the kids on a basic level. Though as soon as it gets more complicated, I get a bit lost. Also, the kids will come and sit on my porch and say something. I won’t understand and will say “nshumfwile” (I don’t understand). Instead of trying to explain themselves the kids will almost inevitably just repeat themselves louder a second, third, or fourth time. Oy, it’s frustrating. I have to spell out the specific word that I don’t understand and then SOMETIMES the kids will get it and try to explain or show me.
I’m starting to think about other projects… starting a micro-loan project on my own is a possibility. It’s a little scary to try to think about all the different parts, but I think giving people some initial capital to start projects is so necessary. So maybe we’ll start business-training classes and then tie it into either my own lending or the local micro-credit bank. I’m also interested in how to encourage people to start officially saving. All the banks here have a minimum to open an account and a minimum balance to maintain the account. Would it be possible to open a “bank” somehow that wouldn’t require that?
I’m also thinking of trying to teach a digital photography class, in order to both teach photography and a form of art, and also to teach computer skills. Right now I don’t have computers or cameras though, so it’s more in the long-run. Some of the teachers at the high school in town want to create an art exhibit with local art in the states. Anyone with any ideas about galleries that might be interested, I’d love to know!
I still feel this intense missing of people in a way that I never quite have before. Being here during Brown graduation was hard. I spent the entire day calculating the time difference to try to figure out what was happening on the east coast, when people were marching, graduating, getting diplomas. It was hard to not be there on Tess’ big day and it was also really hard to know how many people I love were there that day while I was in my hut.
Along those lines the letters and care packages are amazing. They feel, at times extravagant. As I go to the post office every other day, the postmen know my name. But, they allow me to feel a connection to people and to home, to make me feel like I’m not doing this so much on my own, and also to give me a time and a space to process what I am doing here as I write back. I think I’ve been pretty good about getting back to people, though I’m a bit behind now! People’s thoughts and questions and love mean so much to me. I can hardly begin to describe it. In some ways being let’s me be in touch with people and connected in ways that I’m sure would be impossibly or just unlikely were I still in the states. And, in other ways it’s so hard to be so far away, feeling that I’m missing events (like graduations and weddings) along with everyday life.
I also have been struggling with what exactly it means to be doing work here… that partly we’re here to work within a Zambian framework and help push projects that people here want to start or have already started. In contrast, partly Peace Corps works because we, as American westerners, are coming in with a supposed understand of what “development” looks like. Therefore, it’s understood that just because I went to a functioning school I can have an idea, an image of what schools here could do to improve. How is that sustainable? How is it not a western imposition? Yet, how can I argue with the fact that I DO have a better idea of a functioning school than most schools here! Also, how do I really think about sustainability when if it weren’t for outside aid this country would collapse, probably quite literally?
It’s made me start to think that I really want to go to business school. I’m not sure how that will eventually play itself out, but increasingly I feel that project management, entrepreneurship, marketing, problem-solving, and creativity are really what needs to happen here. People need skills in order to create resources and in order to do that they need to push limits and boundaries and be creative, independent thinkers. The development system as it exists now does much good to take care of people in the situation that they are in, but not much to change the status quo. People need care and food in the short term, but in the long-term there NEED to be changes to the system that allow people to feel empowerment in some real way, some ability to change their own lives. I know I sound like the Ashoka website, but maybe that’s a good thing!! (check out their website if you haven’t already: www.ashoka.org).
Ok, this is long, so I think I’m going to close here. I miss you all so very much and am getting a bit better at e-mails. So, if you’re feeling lazy to write a real letter, I have sometime on the internet and now have a flash so I can write up letters on other people’s computers and send them more quickly (which is what I’m doing now!). So, let me know where you are, what you’re doing, I love hearing it all! And critiques or suggestions for my ideas are ALWAYS welcome!! Much love and many kisses!
Each day here seems to have so many ups and downs. Greeting my neighbors, having successful meetings, understanding Bemba better, learning how to cook new foods, watching the beautiful sunsets from my house, playing with my kitties, are combined with feeling lonely or that I still don’t know what I’m doing here, with my cats waking me up early, still not understanding complicated conversations, meetings not happening or being cancelled after sitting somewhere for two hours… I know that I don’t need to know what I’m doing here exactly. Several people have told me to have patience and faith and those are both things to work on and to develop and to learn. Yet, my brain desires some clarity at times and maybe to my dismay, I also desire a feeling of productivity.
That said, things here continue to settle more and more and the ups happen more often. I am starting to have lots of meetings in the next month, with schools, with women’s groups, and with kids. I’m working mostly on trying to get some of the schools to start Income Generating Activities (IGAs). In Peace Corps lingo we seem to not want to just call it “business.” Not sure why! Maybe it’s the development system’s fear of admitting that business is a key component to development and empowerment.
Anyway, I’m working with schools on IGAs and also starting to work with some women’s groups to start action plans and to think about how to generate money for the group and their communities. I had a meeting yesterday with women but it was cancelled because a man from the disaster management office in Lusaka had come up to do an evaluation and wanted to meet with the women. So, there were probably about 40 women there! Which is really exciting! And we’ve re-scheduled for tomorrow.
I’ve also started working with a group of 9th grade prefects at the school in town. We are doing a “leadership” class, which is something I struggle with a bit. What does it mean to teach these kids to be leaders? What are leaders in their community? And how do you teach kids, who have SO rarely been taught and encouraged to think creatively and outside the box, to do so?
My Bemba is getting better, though it’s still pretty limited to everyday usage. I can talk with my neighbors, I can communicate with the kids on a basic level. Though as soon as it gets more complicated, I get a bit lost. Also, the kids will come and sit on my porch and say something. I won’t understand and will say “nshumfwile” (I don’t understand). Instead of trying to explain themselves the kids will almost inevitably just repeat themselves louder a second, third, or fourth time. Oy, it’s frustrating. I have to spell out the specific word that I don’t understand and then SOMETIMES the kids will get it and try to explain or show me.
I’m starting to think about other projects… starting a micro-loan project on my own is a possibility. It’s a little scary to try to think about all the different parts, but I think giving people some initial capital to start projects is so necessary. So maybe we’ll start business-training classes and then tie it into either my own lending or the local micro-credit bank. I’m also interested in how to encourage people to start officially saving. All the banks here have a minimum to open an account and a minimum balance to maintain the account. Would it be possible to open a “bank” somehow that wouldn’t require that?
I’m also thinking of trying to teach a digital photography class, in order to both teach photography and a form of art, and also to teach computer skills. Right now I don’t have computers or cameras though, so it’s more in the long-run. Some of the teachers at the high school in town want to create an art exhibit with local art in the states. Anyone with any ideas about galleries that might be interested, I’d love to know!
I still feel this intense missing of people in a way that I never quite have before. Being here during Brown graduation was hard. I spent the entire day calculating the time difference to try to figure out what was happening on the east coast, when people were marching, graduating, getting diplomas. It was hard to not be there on Tess’ big day and it was also really hard to know how many people I love were there that day while I was in my hut.
Along those lines the letters and care packages are amazing. They feel, at times extravagant. As I go to the post office every other day, the postmen know my name. But, they allow me to feel a connection to people and to home, to make me feel like I’m not doing this so much on my own, and also to give me a time and a space to process what I am doing here as I write back. I think I’ve been pretty good about getting back to people, though I’m a bit behind now! People’s thoughts and questions and love mean so much to me. I can hardly begin to describe it. In some ways being let’s me be in touch with people and connected in ways that I’m sure would be impossibly or just unlikely were I still in the states. And, in other ways it’s so hard to be so far away, feeling that I’m missing events (like graduations and weddings) along with everyday life.
I also have been struggling with what exactly it means to be doing work here… that partly we’re here to work within a Zambian framework and help push projects that people here want to start or have already started. In contrast, partly Peace Corps works because we, as American westerners, are coming in with a supposed understand of what “development” looks like. Therefore, it’s understood that just because I went to a functioning school I can have an idea, an image of what schools here could do to improve. How is that sustainable? How is it not a western imposition? Yet, how can I argue with the fact that I DO have a better idea of a functioning school than most schools here! Also, how do I really think about sustainability when if it weren’t for outside aid this country would collapse, probably quite literally?
It’s made me start to think that I really want to go to business school. I’m not sure how that will eventually play itself out, but increasingly I feel that project management, entrepreneurship, marketing, problem-solving, and creativity are really what needs to happen here. People need skills in order to create resources and in order to do that they need to push limits and boundaries and be creative, independent thinkers. The development system as it exists now does much good to take care of people in the situation that they are in, but not much to change the status quo. People need care and food in the short term, but in the long-term there NEED to be changes to the system that allow people to feel empowerment in some real way, some ability to change their own lives. I know I sound like the Ashoka website, but maybe that’s a good thing!! (check out their website if you haven’t already: www.ashoka.org).
Ok, this is long, so I think I’m going to close here. I miss you all so very much and am getting a bit better at e-mails. So, if you’re feeling lazy to write a real letter, I have sometime on the internet and now have a flash so I can write up letters on other people’s computers and send them more quickly (which is what I’m doing now!). So, let me know where you are, what you’re doing, I love hearing it all! And critiques or suggestions for my ideas are ALWAYS welcome!! Much love and many kisses!
Friday, May 18, 2007
pics from mpika
and, some more pics of kids in mpika. these are some of the kids that are at my house pretty much whenever i'm there. i've tried to set up SOME boundaries... for example, they can't play soccer before 8 am, and they have to leave by 18. and then some of these kids are just kids who were there that day. but they're cuties.
also, i've put a bunch of these up on snapfish now. if you want to see more, e-mail me and i'll forward you the link. kisses!
also, i've put a bunch of these up on snapfish now. if you want to see more, e-mail me and i'll forward you the link. kisses!
yay, so i've finally figured out how to get my pics up a bit more quickly. here are some of my favorites.
the sunset from my house in mpika. doesn't it make you want to come visit?! :-)
me and my sisters, chola and peggy, and christina's sister, erica
my little nephew, isn't he the cutest thing in the world?
me and my sister chola
peggy and my cousin
my mom and cousin
my sister getting her hair done
me and my mom
my sisters and their friends dancing outside my hut
me and my sister peggy
the sunset at my homestay family in chongwe
me and keli at swearing in
lindsay, lisa, and me at chishimba falls
chishimba falls
Rex
cibwabwa
the sunset from my house in mpika. doesn't it make you want to come visit?! :-)
me and my sisters, chola and peggy, and christina's sister, erica
my little nephew, isn't he the cutest thing in the world?
me and my sister chola
peggy and my cousin
my mom and cousin
my sister getting her hair done
me and my mom
my sisters and their friends dancing outside my hut
me and my sister peggy
the sunset at my homestay family in chongwe
me and keli at swearing in
lindsay, lisa, and me at chishimba falls
chishimba falls
Rex
cibwabwa
Thursday, May 17, 2007
two interesting articles
so, in my endless time while i sit and wait for test results i thought i'd put up these two articles... they are pretty interesting. sorry, i couldn't figure out how to get them as links, so copy and paste. it's realllllly not hard!
first: an article about conflicting positions and arguments in today's world of microfinance. who does microfinance serve and how do we do that best? it's an article from the new yorker, oct 30th 2006. enjoy.
http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2006/10/30/061030fa_fact1
second: another new yorker article about water in india. after reading that the average american uses 400-600 litres of water A DAY, i calculated how much i use in my village and that maybe, maybe, if i do dishes, laundry, it's hot and i drink a lot, AND i bathe, i would use about 20. crazy. i don't, however, carry it on my head. though everyone else does. it's from oct 23rd, 2006. enjoy.
http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2006/10/23/061023fa_fact1
first: an article about conflicting positions and arguments in today's world of microfinance. who does microfinance serve and how do we do that best? it's an article from the new yorker, oct 30th 2006. enjoy.
http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2006/10/30/061030fa_fact1
second: another new yorker article about water in india. after reading that the average american uses 400-600 litres of water A DAY, i calculated how much i use in my village and that maybe, maybe, if i do dishes, laundry, it's hot and i drink a lot, AND i bathe, i would use about 20. crazy. i don't, however, carry it on my head. though everyone else does. it's from oct 23rd, 2006. enjoy.
http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2006/10/23/061023fa_fact1
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