Southern Province is one of the last places in Zambia where the rains start. Back in September the rains had already begun in Northwest Province. Here they have yet to officially begin. Amazing how such a small country can have such varying climates within.
As Zambia is a country with a rainy and dry season - the rainy season is the main growing season like our summers in the States.
With the planting time just around the corner, farmers are beginning to prepare. Many meetings are being held in order to secure fertilizer and seed. Because of some changes last year here in Zambia, some farmers have yet to be paid for their maize sold in August. Without being paid, some farmers cannot buy seed.
Fertilizer is highly subsidized, so cooperatives and other associations are diligently working in order to ensure that their fertilizer arrives before or with the rain. Without fertilizer the farmers cannot plant.
Not only are the inputs important, but the fields need to be ready. Some villagers are able to use a tractor and rip the land. Others use ox and plow to turn the soil. And even still some will use a hoe and break ground by hand.
When the rains truly start, it will be every person in the field. Men and women alike will maneuver the plow across the land or walk and drop seed and fertilizer into the ground by hand.
The village will be bustling with activity to ensure the maize, ground nuts, potatoes, sunflowers and other crops are healthy and growing well by Christmas.
Planting and other field work will be done so differently then in the States. I'm looking forward to the rains as well as the green landscape which will follow! It'll be an exciting time and learning experience for sure!
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Life's Many Paths
It doesn't happen everyday, but every now and then I wonder what I would be doing in the States or elsewhere if I wasn't a Peace Corps Volunteer.
Would I be at home feeding all the beautiful Jersey calves Would I be abroad in Austria visiting all the wonderful friends there and around Europe? Would I be back in Texas again at Panera, working as a Pedi-cab in Austin, or spending my days working on any of the large dairy operations near Dalhart?
Maybe I would be have actually followed my sisters to Madison and found a random job like I often do. I have fantastic friends in Chicago who just welcomed their first-born child. I know helping them care for him would be so super, fun and the time of my life.
Or, maybe, I would be thinking about what I could be doing and start the application process to become a Peace Corps Volunteer.
There are countless other opportunities in the world - but right now I find myself in Zambia. I could be happy doing something different, but right now taking one day at a time, experiencing all that Africa has to offer is where I choose to be.
I have made numerous friends, many whom I know will continue to be close and dear to me even after my service here. I am learning a new language and trying everyday to communicate effectively in Tonga!
I have always loved traveling, seeing other places, and meeting new people. I also love agriculture. All of this and more I find here in Zambia.
What are your favorite things to do? Where do you want to go? If you were doing something else, what would it be?
Maybe you also love to travel and are off on a new adventure to Hawaii. Perhaps you are super happy in Fort Worth, TX and excited about your upcoming wedding. Suppose you're enjoying days filled with cows or youth or both. Or really, you are trying to get through the next day of classes, as sometimes its quite difficult.
Its amazing how different we all are and how we all find ourselves in various situations and circumstances of life.
I just hope and wish you all well wherever you are or whatever stage of life you are in.
One day at a time - its all any of us can really ever do!
Don't hesitate to send a text, email or letter! Love hearing from you all! And please feel free to comment or let me know what you all want to hear about my life here in Zambia! I try to mix it up, but not always sure what to share!
Thanks for reading!
Would I be at home feeding all the beautiful Jersey calves Would I be abroad in Austria visiting all the wonderful friends there and around Europe? Would I be back in Texas again at Panera, working as a Pedi-cab in Austin, or spending my days working on any of the large dairy operations near Dalhart?
Maybe I would be have actually followed my sisters to Madison and found a random job like I often do. I have fantastic friends in Chicago who just welcomed their first-born child. I know helping them care for him would be so super, fun and the time of my life.
Or, maybe, I would be thinking about what I could be doing and start the application process to become a Peace Corps Volunteer.
There are countless other opportunities in the world - but right now I find myself in Zambia. I could be happy doing something different, but right now taking one day at a time, experiencing all that Africa has to offer is where I choose to be.
I have made numerous friends, many whom I know will continue to be close and dear to me even after my service here. I am learning a new language and trying everyday to communicate effectively in Tonga!
I have always loved traveling, seeing other places, and meeting new people. I also love agriculture. All of this and more I find here in Zambia.
What are your favorite things to do? Where do you want to go? If you were doing something else, what would it be?
Maybe you also love to travel and are off on a new adventure to Hawaii. Perhaps you are super happy in Fort Worth, TX and excited about your upcoming wedding. Suppose you're enjoying days filled with cows or youth or both. Or really, you are trying to get through the next day of classes, as sometimes its quite difficult.
Its amazing how different we all are and how we all find ourselves in various situations and circumstances of life.
I just hope and wish you all well wherever you are or whatever stage of life you are in.
One day at a time - its all any of us can really ever do!
Don't hesitate to send a text, email or letter! Love hearing from you all! And please feel free to comment or let me know what you all want to hear about my life here in Zambia! I try to mix it up, but not always sure what to share!
Thanks for reading!
Friday, November 9, 2012
PCV Rhapsody
I am a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV). I live in a clay brick hut with a thatched roof in rural Zambia. Every morning I wake to the sounds of ox and cart rolling down the bumpy dirt road, to roosters crowing to the daylight, to pigs rooting around in the grass, and goats bleating to each other. This is the orchestra of my life.
I sleep under a mosquito net and after crawling out from under its tucked-in sides, I make my way outside to my very own pit latrine. Its only 6:00 AM, but the sun already gives a hint of the day's coming heat.
For breakfast I make tea and oats on my gel stove inside my house. My host family then gathers me and my 20L jerry cans to help get water from the borehole with the wagon and cattle. We fill three large plastic and metal drums along with numerous small buckets and cans. The other women at the borehole greet us and each other, then lift their loads onto their heads and walk up the hill balancing the water with no hands.
The day has now begun. Trucks, cars, and vans along with pedestrians and bicyclists go by all day on the road beside my place. They are off to school, work, the village market, or to town to get things or transport items.
Several farmers stop by to meet me and I share in Tonga who I am, why I am here and what I will be doing in the next two years. The villagers welcome me and say they are happy I've come. Some children stop by. As I work on my bike, they continue to stare at me while trying to engage me in Tonga I can't understand them and eventually they go on their way.
By now a dog has arrived looking for food and continues to hang around for the rest of the day. She even stares longingly inside my door and appears to almost walk in. She's hungry, but I don't have anything to give. Also, if I start to feed animals, I'll have a zoo of angry food seekers before too long.
After lunch I go to meet some local headmen. Traditional leaders are part of the culture here and are respected and sought after for advice even still today. They hold no legal grounds with national law, but in the village they still handle some disputes.
I also visit the chief, the only chieftainess in Southern Province. She welcomes me and blesses me in the traditional manner and christians me with the Tonga name, Mutinta. Mutinta is a name usually given to the first girl born in a family of all boys. The Chieftainess gives me this name to mean I am the first of my kind (white/US) totally to live among the native people of her chiefdom
Back at my house, I sweep my house and charge my solar lamp and phone outside in the sun. Sometimes I hear people whistling or honking and not always sure if they are trying to get my attention or not. I ignore them.
Often when I am out and about people will call after me, "Magua, Magua!" This I do not like and will not respond to unless I meet them and explain to them I do not like to be shouted at - "Hey white person, hey you!" I tell them my name and explain who I am, in Tonga. I hope soon the entire community will know we don't like to be shouted at or called out as the "white, foreign, rich, odd person."
By dusk, I am tired. But I must bathe to wash the days dirt and grime from my body. And when I say dirt and grime, I really mean it! Dust, soil, grass - you name it - I probably have bits of it on my skin, in my ears, or stuck in my hair.
Inside my house at night I light several candles to fight away the darkness. I cook pasta with soya and some tomatoes and cover it in seasoned salt from the US to give it some flavor.
With the candles flickering, I write in my journal and field notebook about the days events, my thoughts and of course my emotions. From time to time, a nasty camel spider crawls across the wall and I smash it with my shoe. They are so gross looking! I try to read some, but my eyelids protest to stay open.
I crawl onto my bed and lay awake from the heat for a bit until finally sleep comes. I wake a few more times to sweat encroaching upon my restfulness or a cow jingling her bell outside my place. And, then, before I know it, the ox and carts start rolling again and the music of the day's events begins to play.
I sleep under a mosquito net and after crawling out from under its tucked-in sides, I make my way outside to my very own pit latrine. Its only 6:00 AM, but the sun already gives a hint of the day's coming heat.
For breakfast I make tea and oats on my gel stove inside my house. My host family then gathers me and my 20L jerry cans to help get water from the borehole with the wagon and cattle. We fill three large plastic and metal drums along with numerous small buckets and cans. The other women at the borehole greet us and each other, then lift their loads onto their heads and walk up the hill balancing the water with no hands.
The day has now begun. Trucks, cars, and vans along with pedestrians and bicyclists go by all day on the road beside my place. They are off to school, work, the village market, or to town to get things or transport items.
Several farmers stop by to meet me and I share in Tonga who I am, why I am here and what I will be doing in the next two years. The villagers welcome me and say they are happy I've come. Some children stop by. As I work on my bike, they continue to stare at me while trying to engage me in Tonga I can't understand them and eventually they go on their way.
By now a dog has arrived looking for food and continues to hang around for the rest of the day. She even stares longingly inside my door and appears to almost walk in. She's hungry, but I don't have anything to give. Also, if I start to feed animals, I'll have a zoo of angry food seekers before too long.
After lunch I go to meet some local headmen. Traditional leaders are part of the culture here and are respected and sought after for advice even still today. They hold no legal grounds with national law, but in the village they still handle some disputes.
I also visit the chief, the only chieftainess in Southern Province. She welcomes me and blesses me in the traditional manner and christians me with the Tonga name, Mutinta. Mutinta is a name usually given to the first girl born in a family of all boys. The Chieftainess gives me this name to mean I am the first of my kind (white/US) totally to live among the native people of her chiefdom
Back at my house, I sweep my house and charge my solar lamp and phone outside in the sun. Sometimes I hear people whistling or honking and not always sure if they are trying to get my attention or not. I ignore them.
Often when I am out and about people will call after me, "Magua, Magua!" This I do not like and will not respond to unless I meet them and explain to them I do not like to be shouted at - "Hey white person, hey you!" I tell them my name and explain who I am, in Tonga. I hope soon the entire community will know we don't like to be shouted at or called out as the "white, foreign, rich, odd person."
By dusk, I am tired. But I must bathe to wash the days dirt and grime from my body. And when I say dirt and grime, I really mean it! Dust, soil, grass - you name it - I probably have bits of it on my skin, in my ears, or stuck in my hair.
Inside my house at night I light several candles to fight away the darkness. I cook pasta with soya and some tomatoes and cover it in seasoned salt from the US to give it some flavor.
With the candles flickering, I write in my journal and field notebook about the days events, my thoughts and of course my emotions. From time to time, a nasty camel spider crawls across the wall and I smash it with my shoe. They are so gross looking! I try to read some, but my eyelids protest to stay open.
I crawl onto my bed and lay awake from the heat for a bit until finally sleep comes. I wake a few more times to sweat encroaching upon my restfulness or a cow jingling her bell outside my place. And, then, before I know it, the ox and carts start rolling again and the music of the day's events begins to play.
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