PCT --> PCV!

--September 25, 2009--


The day we've all been waiting for has finally come - the day when we all shave/bathe for the first time in five weeks, don our most ridiculous citenge outfits, and officially make the plunge from Peace Corps Trainees to Peace Corps Volunteers!

Starting the morning off with fine dress and hearty laughter

The Northern Province Crew

Our swearing-in ceremony, held this morning at the house of the U.S. Ambassador, was quite the festive and emotional affair. I couldn't believe how well everyone cleaned up! We all had spent the past couple of weeks frantically trying to get our citenge outfits tailored, so it was a real treat to see how well everyone's turned out (I kept it close to home with a Maize and Blue citenge shirt). I also got to give a speech in Bemba during the ceremony, on behalf of all the Bemba students, which was intended to be serious but somehow ended up being raucously funny (I'm not sure I'll ever find out why)! In general, the day was full with lots of congratulating, photographing, joking, hugging, and laughing. It's hard to believe that only nine weeks ago we were all seated nervously and awkwardly in the conference room of the D.C. Holiday Inn as perfect strangers. Now it's like we're family. When some of the existing volunteers come back to Chongwe for training, THEY'RE the ones who are all nervous and awkward as they try to decipher our relationships and nicknames and inside jokes.

Ba Sikota, our training manager, making an appearance in traditional Lozi dress


Practicing for our speeches!


Delivering the speech!

But at the same time the laughter, hugs and pictures all carried a bittersweet tinge. We all knew that the intensity, intimacy, and proximity that forged such tight friendships is about to come to a close when we get shipped out to our respective provinces tomorrow. It's just now hitting home that nine weeks is far too short a time to really get to know someone, and far too short a time to spend amongst such good company. And what's more, we're all going to be together again for only four more weeks over the next two years. Of course the friendships will still remain, and we'll still be able to visit each other at site. But without electricity, internet, transportation, or reliable cell phone reception, planning such outings is going to be a slow and laborious process. We're probably not going to get to visit everyone we want to. So while Swear-In day was outrageously enjoyable and memorable, it also marks a rather abrupt separation from the comfort, friendship, and immediate support of our fellow trainees.

Our aquaculture trainers, "Big P" and "Scorpion"


My language class with Ba Whiteson, our teacher

Culture Day - American Style

--September 23, 2009--


Today marks an exciting and nostalgic first for me: the first day since my arrival in Zambia that I actually felt like I was back in America. Such a monumental occurrence came on Culture Day- a Peace Corps Zambia tradition where the normal roles are reversed and the volunteers cook American food for the host families.

Preparing for the feast (I made about 40kg of fruit salad and helped flip tortillas)

Any kind of event where 40 people are teaming together to cook food for 250 people is bound to be interesting. But there was something extra special about this Culture Day; it was like we'd managed to carve out a little chunk of America and ship it over. Maybe it was all the hubbub and confusion that inevitably cropped up, so reminiscent of college life and so foreign here in Zambia. Maybe it was the good ol' American food: fajitas, jambalaya, caesar salad, no-bake cookies. But I think what reminded me most about America was standing outside barbecueing chicken and flipping tortillas with an LSU, a Tennessee, and a Michigan State alum and a diehard Cal fan, talking smack about the coming weekend's football games. That right there is the America I know and love, and for one day we had a taste of it here in Zambia!

My host mom and dad - excited that they don't have to do the cooking!

A Good One's Gone Away

--September 20, 2009--



She wears a broad, beaming smile as a near-permanent fixture upon her face, and exudes such a genuine sense of warmth and kindness that even a culturally awkward chap like myself cannot help but feel comfortable around her. She understands the thoughts and frustrations of a Bemba student even better than our professionally-trained Bemba teachers. And her motivation and perseverence are unsurpassed. Even these past couple of weeks, when she was visibly sick, she managed to show off her pearly whites every now-and-then. Oh and by the way she cooks the best pot of nshima in Chongwe district.

But yesterday the Lord decided he couldn't wait any longer to get his paws on such prodigious talent.

I came home from class yesterday to find that my host Auntie, Ba Justina, had died somewhat unexpectedly from a tumor in her abdomen. I had known that she was ill - after all, that was the only reason she was living here in Chongwe with my host family. But I was still surprised at how fast her condition must have deteriorated. She's been to Lusaka several times for treatment, but for some reason her surgery kept getting delayed (I could speculate why, but that would only lead me on a useless rant about the Zambian [lack of a] healthcare system). Suffice it to say I think her condition was treatable, which makes this mourning all the more frustrating.

But what's also been surprising is the Zambian way of mourning their dead. The whole community has responded - there must have been 40 people there yesterday - but no one seems to be overly sad or concerned. All the women sit inside, laughing and chatting. All the men sit around the fire and talk politics and football like they're at a tailgate. I can tell that deep down inside, many of them are grieving, especially my host father. He smiles a little more faintly and stops laughing a little more quickly than usual, but it seems that Zambian culture does not permit him to express this grief.

Per Peace Corps policy, I have been pulled from my home to ease the burden on my host family, so I'm now staying at our school, in the dorms where our trainers live. I'm expecting to go back tomorrow, but we're going to be moving out pretty soon anyways. I certainly didn't expected my homestay to end on such a somber note.

Zambia in just Four Words

--September 3, 2009--


A tip of the cap to the HIA folks back home for sparking this conversation, and to the rest of my Northern Province crew for turning it into a vibrant discussion / eight-hour-long brainstorming session as we sat crammed in a Land Rover on our way up to Kasama (by the way we are getting exponentially better at cramming into Land Rovers - our new records are 14 people inside and nine bicycles on top!!). So I share with you now the highly-refined and oft-amended fruits of our discussion: four words that capture our experience in Zambia thus far.

1. Citenge: Because this traditional African clothing epitomizes both the resourcefulness and the colorful nature of the Zambian people. When all is said and done, the citenge is really nothing more than a towel-sized sheet of fabric. But Zambians use them for just about everything imaginable: A dress, a skirt, something to wrap around your dress/skirt while cooking, carrying babies on your back, carrying water on your head, shielding your head from the sun, backpack, curtain, towel, tablecloth, doormat, coffee filter, etc etc etc. Not only are they insanely versatile, but they also come in the most insane array of colors and patterns imaginable. And one is not truly a Zambian unless he/she is wearing the most insanely-colored citenge money can buy.

2. Celestial: Because of the powerful African sun, which has an uncanny ability to turn the bone-chilling, 50-degree coldness of my early-morning language sessions into the sweltering bake-fest that is my 13:00 bike ride to aquaculture class. Because of the moon, so bright that I can officially walk, play soccer, and even read outside without luminary assistance. And because for once in my life I can actually see the Milky Way cutting a bright white swath from one horizon to the other.

3. Ancestral: Because everything about this landscape just feels so...evolutionarily well-adjusted. The ridges and valleys here are extremely subtle - yet wide - so despite the seeming flatness you can often see for miles. The savannah grasses are thick but only chest-high, so they seldom impede your vision (unless you stop to tie your shoe, in which case you can't see more than three feet). And between the grass and the sticky clay soil you can build just about anything. It just makes so much sense why our ape ancestors decided to stand up and use their eyes and hands. After living in the savannah and walking the bush paths around our school, it's finally hit home: here in Zambia I'm a human in his natural habitat.

4. Ubwali: The Bemba word for nshima, because no list would be complete without this Zambian staple food. The people of Zambia believe that their nshima gives them strength which no other food can provide. In fact, many Zambians believe they haven't really eaten until they've eaten nshima. And the manner in which nshima is eaten - using hands instead of utensils, and served in one big community bowl - speaks to the openness, warmth, and family-centered mentality of the Zambian people.



In other news, our second site visit is going by in a blur. I got to teach my first fish-farming lesson (about different types of fish here in Zambia) to a local co-operative of about 40 people or so. We also took a really interesting hike out to some 2000-year old, pre-Bantu rock paintings near Kasama. Another day we had a rather exciting encounter with a drunk Zambian policeman who was wielding his AK-47 more casually than a kid with a cap gun! Most importantly, though, I'm having a great time with a bunch of the other Northern Province volunteers - my family for the next two years!

On the Great North Road to Kasama with a fully-loaded cruiser

The new Northern Province aquaculture volunteers: Mo, John, myself, and Christine



One of those wide sweeping valleys I was talking about


Biking on the bush path during second site visit

Sporting our leafy greens!

I'm going to Northern Province!!!

Just got my official site posting, and I'm headed to a site just northeast of Kasama in Northern Province. I'll be the first Peace Corps volunteer ever at that site (no pressure or anything!), and I'm leaving tomorrow (the 30th) to head up to Kasama for a week and a half. I'll let you know more when I get back!

Training Time

-- August 23rd, 2009 --

Life here in Zambia just keeps on trucking at breakneck pace. Two days after returning from our first site visit we were assigned to a language group (I’ll be learning Bemba!) and taken to live with our host families, where we will stay until the end of September. I’ll never forget the incredible nervousness, excitement, and anticipation we all experienced on that first night of homestay. A group of us - John, Leah, Angela, MaryEllen, Ashley, and I - were stuffed into the back of a Land Rover (again…), rehearsing our simple Bemba greeting more intensely than we’ve ever rehearsed anything in our lives! One-by-one the volunteers all said their anxious goodbyes, hopped out of the Land Rover and into the welcoming arms of their host family, anxiously reciting the aforementioned greeting to much smiles and applause. And just like that they were gone, disappearing into the sunset as we continued to the next volunteer’s house. It was at once a sad and exciting time - sad that our amazing Group of 42 was finally being separated, but exciting in that we each could look forward to our own unique homestay experience.

My new home at Ba Enock and Ba Robina's place

And for these past couple of weeks my homestay family has been absolutely incredible. My host father is 65 years young (and by young I mean not-a-single-grey-hair-on-his-head young), a retired Army contractor who is originally from Copperbelt province. My mother, also from Copperbelt Province, is the quintessential family matriarch - the one who really runs the show around this place. She has a quick and hearty laugh, and despite my dire warnings she has showed no qualms about entrusting me with the family cooking from time to time. I also have a host auntie who has been a truly unexpected blessing. She is in town only because she is sick (she’s waiting for surgery in Lusaka) but she is all smiles all the time. Every day she eagerly and patiently helps me through my often-futile attempts at constructing full Bemba sentences, and to her persistence I owe much of my current vocabulary. I also have a pair of teenage host brothers who are football-crazed maniacs, a trio of host sisters who love to play cards, and a whole gaggle of young kids, most of whom are probably not actually related to my family.

My host aunt, Justina, and Joshua, one of the chitlins around the house

Making nshima!

Our Peace Corps training here in Chongwe has been pretty intense thus far, but also incredibly rewarding. Every morning I meet with three other volunteers and a language trainer to learn Bemba for four hours straight. Learning language for four hours per day is quite mentally taxing, but boy is it effective! I’ve studied Spanish for five years and Chinese for two-and-a-half, and yet I think after these nine weeks of training I will be more proficient in Bemba than I ever was in those other languages.


After Bemba class I typically eat lunch with my host family and then bike eight or nine kilometers down the road (unpaved of course) to get to my technical fish-farming sessions. We do all sorts of crazy fish-farming activities in these sessions: we’ve measured and staked out a pond for construction, transported small fingerlings by bike for 13km, held fish-food-finding competitions, and actually harvested a local farmer’s pond. In the coming weeks we will perform a second, more serious harvest, which we may get a chance to sell in the local Chongwe market!








Looking forward, everyone here is holding their breath for next Thursday (the 27th), which is when we find out exactly which site we will be going to. As a Bemba speaker I know I will be going to either Central, Northern, or Luapula Province, but I’m still waiting on the specific details. And during the first week of Septembe we will go on a second, more extended site visit that will include a two-day stay at my site-to-be. So in two-weeks time I will be able to tell you all about the place in which I will be living for the next two years! But until then, stay well and enjoy those last few days of summer back in the States!

Field trip to Copperbelt Province

-- July 29, 2009 --

WOW! The Peace Corps certainly doesn’t waste any time getting our feet wet! After only four days in Zambia, the trainers split us up into small groups and sent us out into the bush to live with a current volunteer for a few days. What an adventure! My group of six trainees (plus our Host Volunteer, a driver, a stowaway Training leader, and luggage/food for everyone) all got stuffed into a single Land Rover for a ten-hour drive out to Copperbelt Province, where we received a brief but enlightening taste of life as a PC-Zambia volunteer.

Tight squeeze in the back of the Land Rover

Living conditions here are pretty spartan - I can see why Zambia has a reputation as the Peace Corps' most remote outpost. Volunteers live as one of the villagers, which usually means a small thatched-roof, mud-brick hut with no electricity or running water, using a pit latrine, cooking over an open charcoal fire, and taking bucket baths with water drawn from a well. Our site visit was no different.

Camping outside our host volunteer's mud-brick hut

THE 'BUSU!!! (short for 'icimbusu', the Bemba word for toilet)

But despite all the conveniences of my technologically superior Western upbringing, it's been surprisingly easy to adapt to this new Zambian lifestyle. In fact, the slower pace and lack of technology has in many ways been quite rewarding. Waking and sleeping with the daylight hours just feels so much more natural than those 1am college nights. And after a hard day's work under the scorching African sun, I actually really look forward to a crisp, refreshing, beneath-the-stars bucket bath. I've found that a book reads just a little bit better when its words are flickering in the candlelight, and I’m still discovering new possibilities in the world of one-pot cooking. I must admit I’m even becoming a fan of squat toilets (The genius of their design is that only the bottoms of your shoes ever touch anything dirty - imagine the wonders this could do at those appallingly-filthy gas station bathrooms back home)!

The highlight of our trip, however, was the day we spent meeting some of our host volunteer’s fish farmers. He made a point to introduce us to both his “good” and “bad” farmers, and the contrast was eye-opening. At one extreme was the farmer who designed and built his own two ponds, maintained them perfectly, and even developed his own farm integration system to irrigate his crops with excess fish-pond water (super-fertilized fish pond water works wonders on a maize crop). With the extra money he earned he’s managed to build a new house and put his kids through school. He also developed an appreciation for reading and wants to start a local library.

Checking out the local fish ponds!

On the other extreme was the farming co-op, which in theory wanted to have fish ponds but was unwilling to put in the work necessary to build and maintain the ponds. Instead they spend their time trying to secure free handouts, supplies, and labor from passing non-profit organizations. In the short term they benefit greatly from all those free goodies, but once the donors leave they are back in the same hole they've always been in. This co-op farmers had developed such a dependency on foreign aid that they'd lost sight of their own ability to generate income through hard work and an open mind. It was very disappointing to witness, but it’s a big problem here in Sub-Saharan Africa, where there are a ton of aid organizations spending a ton of money, but relatively few groups who have the skills and perseverence (emphasis on perseverance!) necessary to turn that money into truly sustainable improvements in the lives of Africans. That's why I'm in Peace Corps :-)