September 7, Mwembezhi

Another full day of interviews!

I slept as long as I could—5:40—but we left early to make it to Mwembezhi on time. Traffic in Lusaka seems to be on another level than in other big cities because there really only is one road going north-south, and one going east-west. That inevitably means that the entire city is a bottleneck for people trying to move around and get through. As long as you’re out by 7 though, it seems to be OK.

Early morning sunlight at the church in Mwembezhi

 

Me with two literacy circle facilitators and Paul (far right), my translator.

Paul, Jason and I went to speak with literacy circle facilitators about their goals and needs from the program’s leadership. Their perspective was very different from that of the home-based care volunteers, and they seemed to be operating more independently (for better or for worse) from the program than some of the volunteers nearer to home base.

We also got to tour the Lutheran Mission clinic in Mwembezhi. It was really great to see. The compound is made up of a church (it has brick walls, a stone floor and about 30 wooden benches inside. The altar is very simple), the existing 50-year-old clinic and a new structure that’s being built, homes for the pastor, the nurses and clinic workers, about 8 wandering cows, some chickens, and a borehole the project sunk a few years ago.

When we arrived at 8am, the pastor was outside brushing his teeth. One of his daughters runs her own beauty shop—an open-air structure about 6’x8’ with an outlet for hair dryers and a flatiron. About 20 people were waiting outside the clinic.

When I finished talking with Gertrude, the literacy chairwoman, at 9:15am there were 20 people inside the clinic and about 20 more outside waiting.

People of all ages wait outside the clinic to see a nurse or doctor

Then I spoke with the pastor and Paul in the pastor’s home. A collage of family photos hung high on the otherwise empty walls. We talked about his role with the H&D program, as well as his constant struggle to balance serving the church, the community, and these additional programs. His frankness brought a lot of important information to light; the pastors, who are supposed to be leaders and liaisons between project volunteers and program leadership, don’t know their role. They feel like they’re stepping on toes if they get involved in the volunteers’ work, and they feel guilty for asking for things from the office staff. Learning this gave me great insight for how to improve communication for the program.

The bell outside of Mwembezhi's church

 After talking about H&D we talked about our families for a while. He was shocked at how small my family is. “Just one brother? ONE?” He told me to marry when I found the right person, and to do better family planning than his generation of Africans. He then told me that many young Zambians cling to the notion that they need to choose someone compatible, get married and start having children while they are young. But compatible doesn’t always mean happy. And sometimes you can have “too many” children. I reassured him I wasn’t planning on getting married OR having children any time soon.

The mission church near the rural health clinic looks like it could be located in Kentucky, or Iowa, Wisconsin.

By 10am 30 people were inside the clinic and another 40 (men, women, children and infants) were waiting outside.

The outside of the health clinic.

The tiny "lab," filled with filing boxes.

We toured the clinic, which has a one-room lab, a waiting room full of paperwork and people, two screening rooms and an HIV counseling room, a rest area for serious cases, a delivery room and a wash station for the nurses. All of this is in a teeny-tiny building, slightly larger than the “Ad Lounge” (our basement conference room) at KW2. The clinic is still mission-funded, but staffed and run by Zambians.

The rural health clinic, from the back.

They’ve also trained CHPs—Community Healthcare Providers—to care for people in neighboring towns. People sometimes walk 40km to get to the clinic, so these workers are trained to treat mild sicknesses and common problems, and they are trained to identify more serious cases that need to go to the clinic. This cuts down on the long lines at the clinic, and gets people the care they need faster.

Out back there’s another borehole where a clinic worker and some children were pumping for water. Cows grazed next to the outdoor restrooms, and the crowd outside just kept growing and growing.

Cows and an outhouse seem out of place behind the rural health clinic.

After our tour we drove back to Lusaka. I went for a walk on my own, my first without the ladies…and everyone stared at me.

A bus taxi (blue on the bottom, white on top…mostly legit) stopped and tried to pick me up! “Miss, it is too hot to be walking,” the driver said.

Everyone on the roadside stood as I passed by. Many said “hello.” None of it seemed malicious or dangerous in any way…I think people were just shocked to see a white 20-something woman out by herself. Apparently that doesn’t happen very often.

I was also alone, and walking “just for exercise.” No one does that here. They walk to and from work or school every morning and evening, out of necessity. There’s no need for a gym (although that’s changing because of poor diet and an increasing number of sedentary jobs…and an exponentially growing rate of diabetes) because people walk because they need to.

I worked for a bit that evening, then Jason and I grilled some shish kabobs and relaxed for the evening.  It’s been a tiring week, but would get more relaxed from here. 

Security

Amanda and John Hartman went on morning runs while they were here. I haven’t gone yet because the streets are all named after people with three names, and I’d never find my way back. Our street is Simon Luwansa Kapwepwe. Number 71.

The house is plain. The walls are white. The ceiling is high. The floors are white tile. But the living room has a loveseat and recliners. And a television. The kitchen has all the modern appliances, including a washer and dryer for clothes. The water for the shower gets hot when you want it to, and the beds are comfortable (the rooster and the dogs wake us up, but the beds are good).

But the windows have bars on the outside. The wooden door is thick and locks sturdily. There’s a sign in the kitchen that says to padlock the doors at dark. There’s a “screen door” with steel bars and a padlock. The entire property is surrounded by a 15’ wall with thorny vines growing on either side. We lock the heavy metal gate every time we come and go.

It’s an odd feeling. The amenities make it feel comfortable. I feel secure. If I stayed inside all day I’d forget where I was. I could even feel like home here if I settled in. But what’s outside the stone wall? What should I be afraid of?

Dogs bark throughout the night, and people say they’re mostly barking at each other. But why does every family have a dog or two if it’s just each other they’re barking at?

How does the rest of Lusaka live? How do people living in the compounds, or in the hand-built clay homes, survive?

Funerals (September 6)

I got up at 6:45, which felt like sleeping in after our schedule for the past week. Jason and I had a quick breakfast (the bananas in Zambia are amazing! Smaller than those in the US, but sweeter and super fresh). We picked Paul up at 8am and headed out to West Chelston, another town on the outskirts of Lusaka. There we met with five women who are volunteers with the home-based care project. The ladies gave me some great responses and were very open about their needs and requests.

 

Me-What is your vision for expanding home-based care over the next year?

Josephine- Our group needs some soap.

The women are polite to the point of being shy. But…only to a point. They usually avoided eye contact, and only some of the women wanted to speak up when I asked questions. But during the interview we had a few instances where no translation was needed and we all laughed.

 

At the end of the interview I thanked them all for their service and said they would be in my prayers. They all said they were thankful I was there, and asked me not to forget their requests and please.

I will indeed remember Josephine, Jenpha, Mary, Eunice and Inice. I hope they remember me, too. I’ll never forget their faces and grateful gestures when I gave each of them a pen from the University Bookstore. They had a ball pronouncing “Wis-CON-sing” with me. I can’t imaging their faces if they ever actually walked into the bookstore…or one of our hospitals.

There’s a very important detail about this day. During the entire interview, we heard women wailing outside. The pastor’s daughter had passed away the night before, and the entire family, church and community were gathering for her funeral. She was in her mid-twenties, and had been sick for a few weeks.

A funeral in Zambia is very tiring and taxing on the family. In addition to dealing with the cultural norms and traditions of funerals clashing with their religious beliefs, they also have to feed and put up anyone who comes. That includes out-of-town family, to whom word travels fast, community members, distant friends and long-lost relatives. In some cases it can be comforting. But often, it’s a burden for these families, who usually feed their families for 20,000 zmk ($5) each week.

The men prepare the burial plot, city paperwork and the casket while the women mourn and wail and keep the guests comfortable. The third day is usually the day of burial, once everyone has gathered. A large procession on foot follows the casket. Men cover the casket with dirt after people share prayers and final memories.  The wailing continues until the entire crowd gets back to the house. Then the crowd disperses and only the closest of kin are left to deal with their recent loss—and expenses. Some relatives stay to help the deceased’s family. The young woman who died had two children, who will now live with the pastor and his wife.

We returned to Lusaka around noon and had some lunch. I tried to email my family and Drew, but the internet was still iffy.

I got to talk to Sheila (Tonga) Chalimba, who is wonderful. So charismatic, smart, kind. She lived in New York for 7 years working with the UN, and she speaks 11 languages! And her English is great, so I could speak normally and freely with her without having to worry about whether I was talking too fast.

That night I made myself a yummy curried rice dinner with local tilapia and vegetables. And I got to email Drew and hop on Facebook for a minute! That felt pretty weird, but it was nice to connect. I started getting a little homesick in this very foreign country. Usually when I’ve traveled I’ve been so busy that I didn’t have time to miss home. But during my evening downtime in Zambia, I did.

I kept thinking about how old my nephew Gavin would be when I’d get to see him next, and hoped he’d like the present I got him in Mfuwe. At 2 months, I can’t see him being too picky about anything :] I got him, Andy and Sara (my brother and sister-in-law), Nicole and my parents gifts from Tribal Textiles, a local place that uses cotton from the Southern province, local waxes and dyes, and all-local labor that supports the nearby community. They make beautiful works of art, from purses to wall hangings to carvings.

Miss you, family!

September 5th – Interviews begin

Interviews began on September 5^th. I wrote a few questions the night before after realizing we’d be working with a translator. My questions were too complex for the language barrier. Did you ever realize that when we’re talking in English we tend to ask multiple questions on one?

At 8am we drove to the seminary to pick up Paul, a recent addition to the H&D Program and a support person to Alisad Banda, the program’s director. He speaks English, Chewa, Bemba and others. He is really passionate about the work they’re doing in water sanitation, which is his main focus.

On the way we picked Pastor Tarisayi up along the way to Linda, a small town on the outskirts of Lusaka. With traffic and roads that haven’t been paved in 15 years, it took over an hour to get there.

Pastor Tarisayi and me inside the Linda church

We pulled up a dirt path, past vegetable and clothing stands, and arrived at the church where I’d be holding interviews. It was a white brick building with wooden benches, a nice altar and electric lights. This is where I conducted my first interview with Pastor Tarisayi, who is from Mwembezhi.

Me, talking with four volunteers and Paul, my translator.

Two girls in school uniforms pump water from a borehole.

Talking with Pastor Tarisayi was formal but still comfortable. From the beginning I started cutting out questions and adding other to try to get at the root of why we were there: to improve communication among levels of the program so the work can be carried out more efficiently.

Kids just got home from school in Linda.

Then I met with four female volunteers who work with home-based care and bio-sand filters. Paul did an excellent job translating, and the women were great. They are beautiful women, and from talking with them for less than an hour I could tell their hearts are huge to be doing all of this volunteer work for their community.

Back in Lusaka Jason, Paul and I went to a grocery store to pick up dinners for the week. I also picked up some Zambian coffee and South African wine to take back home.

After a short visit with Jason and Amanda I walked to the seminary offices where I met with Alisad. We discussed the state of the programs, and his vision for H&D and its relationship with the Lutheran Church in Zambia. Alisad complimented my chitengi (a cotton cloth wrap women wear over their pants). I’d been feeling self-conscious about it all day, so his comment made me really happy!

After our talk I joined some of the missionaries’ wives for their twice-weekly walk. It’s dusty and rocky, but not too hot. Plus, they’re really nice ladies and really nice to talk casually with after a long day of enunciation with a translator! We talked about home…

That evening I had the guest house to myself, as Jason and Amanda went to dinner with some good friends from when they lived in Zambia. I transcribed the first interviews, cooked my dinner and read a bit. It was a low-tech night because the internet was down that night. At least we had power (the seminary was out until about 4pm that day).

The first day wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be. People are people, and the ones I was fortunate to meet and talk with were very nice ones. 

Tuesday, 9.4.12

I had a dream last night that there was a space as big as my pinky between my two front teeth. I guess I was repressing anxiety over not bringing my retainer...
At least I wasn't dreaming about the GIANT spider that was still in my room, or the fruit bat that wanted to snuggle while I was brushing my teeth, or the tree frogs that sang sweetly to me all night, or the lizards that made a rustling noise as they scuttled along the thatched walls. It may sound creepy-crawly, but I actually love this stuff. Like, really love it :] Thanks, Mom and Dad, for letting me play with bugs and snakes and salamanders when I was little!

Last day on safari!

I woke up at 5:30 to the wake-up call and had another one of these luxury breakfasts. By 6 we were back on the rover again, headed for the park's main gate.






We saw a really tiny baby baboon. It was so cute, being passed from adult to adults. We also saw more water bucks and a train of elephants!

We came across some really strange droppings (how many great stories start with droppings?), and our guide screeched to a halt. "That's a lion," Andrew said. About 50 feet down the trail, we started seeing tracks the size of Andrew's hand.


We continued on quietly for a while, cameras ready. We came around a corner which overlooked an open field, and saw 6 huge (but skinny) lions sleeping in the grass. A bigger male slept farther away from the group, belly full, his chest full of blood from the night before.

He couldn't have cared less that we were there.

The lions didn't even care that we were there. They just snoozed, some of their ears twitching when a fly would land. The big male lay with his belly toward the sky, legs splayed.

To be that close (20 feet or so) to an animal so huge, and so normally dangerous, was absolutely breathtaking. Their beautiful eyes and faces, the nicks on their faces from fights and scuffles.

Once we had watched them for a while, another truck came up for the view and it was time to go. We continued on and saw more giraffes and a group of zebras. What a perfect few days of safari we had! I don't imagine that everyone is as fortunate as we were in seeing so many great animals.

I also had a had time fathoming what the next few days would bring. My interviews started September 5th (the day after this post), and now that the luxurious vacation days were over it was time to put my skills to the test.

These interviews are the reason I came to Zambia, but all of a sudden I started wondering if I was capable, competent. If I would be able to get the great information we'd need to help the program improve and succeed.

I had to ask myself..
Am I prepared?
Am I skilled?
Will I actually be able to help?
Why me?

It took a lot of prayer and contemplation that night to realize that I was there for a reason--a great one--and that this would all work out for great things.

The Night Drive - September 3

The evening drive was great. We again saw hippos, giraffes and elephants.

We are so fortunate to have gotten so close to these elephants!

 We were in the part of the park that was right across from our lodge when we encountered another rover whose driver had heard that a leopard was in the area...and had made a kill during the day. Recently.

We teamed up with the other group to "spot" the leopard (har har har), using the ravine as our guide. After some stalking, we saw him running--no, jumping--through the grass, for just a second. "Leopards are very she during the day," said Andrew, our guide. We saw the leopard for one more second before he disappeared into the golden-brown grass. Male leopards average around 60 kg, with some reaching up to 80 or even 90 kilos. This was one of the more average males in the area, but one nearby is said to be around 75 kilos (150 lbs). It was incredible knowing that such a large cat was crouching in the grass not 50 feet from our rover, yet we couldn't see or hear him at all.

Male pukus resting

When a puku senses danger or that its territory is being threatened, it lets out three whistle-like calls.
"Yi-yi-yi!"
If smells or sees real danger, he lets out a single cry.
"Yyy-ih!"
It's usually followed by a stomp or a shake of the head.

The whole time we were searching the ravine, one puku stared right where we were searching. Every once in a while he would stomp and let out the single cry. It wasn't us he was worried about, or another puku...it was the leopard.

The grey object to the left of the lowest tree branches is the stomach

Finally we rounded a corner and saw the gruesome sight that had the puku so concerned: the leopard had killed a puku, and dragged it under a low-hanging tree so he could return for it later. The really "good" stuff (the heart, liver, kidneys) was removed and eaten to make up for the energy lost during the kill, and the puku's rib cage shown red from across the ravine. And it was a large animal. So large, in fact, that the leopard couldn't drag it up into a tree to keep it safe from other scavengers. We were lucky enough to have seen this fresh kill, even if the leopard was in hiding.

Whew!

On the rest of the drive we saw water bucks, more elephants and beautiful giraffes, as well as another solitary buffalo. Up and up we drove, past soft black rock and large boulders and traces of a buffalo herd. We stopped atop the hill for evening drinks and snacks as we watched the sun set. The top of that hill was one of the most beautiful sights I'd ever seen. We could see down onto the plain and far into the distance, all the way to the northern border of the park.

Most of the animals stay in the park because there's adequate food, water and space for them all. But some are baited out of the park by hunters in the bordering GMA (game maintenance area). Permits are regulated based on known populations, although cost alone is enough to deter most from hunting Africa's big game. Hunting costs roughly $20,000-30,000, and you also pay for whatever you kill. A leopard is "worth" about $4,000 depending on the season, an elephant about $9,000. Puku, eland and smaller animals are less.

After sundown we turned on the spotlight to once again search for nocturnal creatures. Seeing a big cat was at the top of my wishlist. We didn't see much as we drove around. We did see a Great Eagle Owl up in a treetop--he was HUGE (he left when we got too close). We also saw an elephant right in our path as we came around a corner. The truck engines are pretty quiet, and I think he was just as surprised as we were! he let out a little trumpet and scurried (as much as a 5-ton animal can "scurry") into the tall grass.

Then we returned to the place where we had seen the leopard's hidden kill. We drove up very quietly, and all of us held our breath in excitement. Andrew pulled us around until the rover was just on the edge of the ravine, and pointed our light toward the kill. Only a dry ravine separated us from the puku remains.

There, under the hiding place, we saw him eating his prey. I've never seen something so amazing--so eerie, incredible, breathtaking. The entire night was dark and silent except for the occasional shift of someone in our truck moving ever so slightly to take a photograph, and the sound of the leopard eating. I sat in awe watching through my binoculars as the leopard ate and tore at his kill, occasionally stopping to lick his chops and stare directly at us. "Leopards are NOT shy at night," Andrew whispered.

The leopard and its prey, under the tree

Eventually another vehicle drove up, either because they saw our light or because they had seen the kill earlier. They drove over a branch which snapped loudly in the silent night. The leopard stopped eating and looked directly at their truck, his meal interrupted. He looked straight at us, then vanished for a moment.

Our spotter shined his light further down the bank and saw the huge cat walking away into the night, his beautiful coat bloodied by the night's activity. And as he slinked silently off into the same woods where our truck sat, we realized this powerful cat (who kills his prey by ambush, usually from a tree limb, ground cover or from a ravine like this one) is in the brush along with us. Only now he's watching us, rather than the other way around...

"Yi!"

Porcupine 

After that excitement, all of us gasping and trying to settle our adrenaline, we drove back toward the river crossing. On the way back we saw a dozing giraffe, seemingly unaware of our presence. We also saw three perturbed porcupines who were fully aware of our presence. They waddled away, quills bared, looking for cover in a wooded area. A porcupine sighting is extremely rare, Andrew tells us. And they were huge! I always thought they were small, but these can weigh up to 30 lbs and are about 3 ft long.

Then we went back across the river on our "ferry." Hippos grunted all around us as we crossed the river under the starlit sky. The drive back was pretty quiet, with only a few hippos here and there eating grass on the plain. We were almost back to the lodge when we heard that familiar noise--"Yi!"

Just one. That same warning call we heard before. Only this time, it was followed by a herd of puku all running in the same direction.

"Another leopard is up ahead," said Andrew. And sure enough! Crouching down, 50 feet from the nearest impala, we saw a female leopard (about 35 kg, Andrew tells us). She looked...hungry. We pulled the rover so we could see what she was facing. Forward and to our left: an impala. Ahead and to our right: the leopard. We waited for the ambush. We looked left to make sure our lights weren't in the impala's eyes. We looked right to see the leopard, and...sure enough. She was gone.

Far off in the distance we saw a pair of glittering eyes peeking out of another dry ravine. She was downwind of us, and the pukus were all skittish, calling to each other, stomping and running in short bursts of energy. The whole night was tense. The 6 or so adult hippos didn't give a hoot, and just kept right on eating.

We got closer to the leopard again, this time with a different vantage point. We were behind her, which made her visibly anxious, but she was facing more impalas. We saw her make a few more lunges at two isolated impalas, but outrun and tired out, she sank back into some brush and disappeared beyond the ravine. At least for the time being. We decided we should let her hunt in peace, despite our excitement, and we returned to the lodge. Which, by the way, is about 3/4 of a mile from where she's hunting...


Around the dinner table, Andrew told us all about the leopards in this area, that this female is quite small and only about 3 years old, and that the dominant male is bigger than me. gulp

We discussed missions, the work ahead, and plans for the coming week under the stars on the deck of the lodge. We overlooked the silent, pitch-black lagoon. The hippos didn't grunt or feed that night, and all of the monkeys and birds were silent too. Hyenas were certainly on the prowl for the leopard's kill if she didn't get it up into a tree fast enough. The whole area was completely different when there was a predator around.

This discussion was accompanied by a carrot and cardamom soup, beef and fresh vegetables, and a chocolate mousse to die for.

I was completely exhausted from all the excitement of the day, and ready to crash without the sound of our hippo friends outside.

Labor Day, part 1

It's Labor Day back home. I can't think of a better way to spend a holiday than by going on a safari all day!

Itinerary

5:00AM - Wake up to the sound of hippos munching on grass outside my door. Think it's the wake-up call. go back to sleep.

5:30 - Guard knocks on my door, "wake up, madame!"

5:45  - Breakfast. Just enough time in between to put in my contacts and suit up in layers. These mornings are chilly, but by noon it will be 80 outside.

6:15 - Morning Drive

9:00 - Midmorning coffee break

10:30 - Brunch

Noon-3:30 - Pool Time

3:30 - Tea Time (not to be confused with "tee time")

4-6 - Evening drive

6:15 - "Sundowners," on Chichili (Salt Springs), site of many hotsprings

6:45-8  - Night drive

8-9 - Dinner

September 3 was a perfect day. There was excitement, relaxation, great people, and perfect weather. The whole time we were in Zambia it was in the 50s and 60s at night, and sunny, dry and 85-90 during the day. 

After a breakfast of fresh fruit, granola and freshly baked bread (which the Aussie keeps calling a "light breakfast"), we got back into the rover for another drive! We went a different route this time, using the main bridge to the park instead of using our hand-drawn ferry. It was a beautiful, elephant-filled morning. 

We also saw a rare--and dangerous--sight: a lone male buffalo. Usually they are only alone when they've been booted from their herd. Needless to say, they're pretty angry (and extremely aggressive) in that state. 

Andrew, our guide, also gave Vicky, Dan, Amanda, Jason, MaryAnne and I a very important lesson on puku warning calls, which came in handy on the night drive.

We saw storks eating fish in the river, saw our first buchbuck, and were treated to a small group of Zebras.

Family of giraffes

      On our way back we saw a family of giraffes. I don't think I'll ever get over how beautiful they are. 

Vervet monkey leaping up into a tree

Mama is helping baby out of the mud

Hot-spring fed stone tub, overlooking the plain.

Lunch was great. They served eggplant chips, baked squash and more hearty bread. Then we all lounged by the pool and natural hot tub...which was glorious.

I shot an email to my family, and one to Drew. My family was up at Wabedo Lake with the whole Lempke side for the long weekend - I missed them dearly! It was great to be able to connect. A quick little lizard stared at me from the wall while I typed...

No, it's fine. Come swim with us....

I came back to the pool, and while we were lounging a couple critters decided to hang out with us. ...two huge lizards, to be exact. I was glad they weren't anything dangerous. They were actually pretty cool. But HUGE.

I got dressed before tea time and, lo and behold, I had a new friend in my chalet! This day was FULL of critters. Below, you can see the giant spider that was having a grand old time on my curtain. He didn't seem to mind that I was there. ... I took the photo of him next to my water bottle for a size reference.

During tea time I had a lengthy conversation with Andrew and Mario about which spiders, snakes and lizards were and weren't poisonous. They both reassured me that the one above 

1) couldn't jump

2) didn't WANT to bite me

3) wasn't poisonous (I told them I'd believe them when I woke up the next day!)

Yes, but would it be gone when I got back? I'd have to find out. They also said that most of the snakes around here aren't poisonous. And you really never see snakes anyway unless you're walking in the grass (duly noted). 

Poolside lounge chairs, the view of the riverbed

 Now that I've given you the creepy-crawlies, it's time for me to go to bed. Tomorrow I'll write about the most exciting evening and night drive ever.

For now, I'll just keep wishing I was back in Africa :]