Is there sun in America? (Scott's)

On the day after Christmas I was working in the bean field of a Methodist missionary named Paul.  He was trying to promote the use of a hand-operated plow made from an upside down bicycle frame with one wheel and a digging blade attached to where the seat would normally be.  Rural villagers typically use a hoe to weed their crops and pile ridges of soil where the seeds were to be planted or where seedlings were growing to keep them from washing away.  I wanted to use them to see if this type of appropriate technology could be applied in our village, so I volunteered to weed part of his field to see for myself how the bicycle-plow worked. 
As I worked alongside some of the Zambian boys operating these plows I could tell they were talking about me.  I couldn't understand all they were saying as they were trying to be discreet so I asked them if they had any questions for me.  They said yes and proceeded with a long-winded question.  In my typical style of answering with other questions to clarify what they said, I found out they were asking if the sun shined in America.  This was an interesting question that I don't typically get.  Usually people want to know how long it takes to get to Zambia from America or want to know what we eat in America.  They can't believe that we don't eat cassava porridge for 2 out of 3 meals a day.   So, I was eager to explain that the sun did shine everywhere in America, but differed depending on the part of America one was in.  I could tell from their expression that they understood what I was saying but I was not really answering the underlying question they were asking.  Then I recalled how on many different occasions when I am not wearing my Teva sandles, but instead my thin flip flops that show off the deep contrasting tan line of where my Tevas usually rest, how Zambian's of all ages will notice the difference in skin tone between the tanned and untanned skin of the top of my foot.  So in my best Lunda I asked them if they were asking if the sun shined in America because it seemed to them that my light skin was not used to the sun in Zambia.  They shook their heads enthusiastically and we all had a good laugh.  I thought about going into an explanation of how different races of humans developed in different areas of the world, and what happens when those people go to other parts of the world, and how the atmosphere of the earth has changed in the relatively recent past sufficiently enough that lighter skinned people are more easily burned by the sun's rays, but I refrained.  We went along working for the rest of the hour before it started pouring rain, sending us inside for the day and remembering our mutual laugh about our obvious differences.

Rural Zambian Competition (Scott's Post)

Earlier in December Gina and I helped out one day with a camp for young women called "Camp Glow".  It is designed to empower young women in Zambia through health education and providing opportunities to do things they may not typically do that can promote a sense of self-esteem and worth.  Every province in Zambia that has a Peace Corps presence sponsors these week-long camps.  One of the activities was a relay race with about 7 different stages where girls did everything from a three-legged race to singing the national anthem while gargling water.  They were explained the rules in English and their local language, but the concept of a relay race, American style, was apparently not in their realm of experience.  Instead of finishing a particular leg and continuing to the next with a different member of their team as fast as their team could go, the girls wanted to do each leg as a separate race.  That is, when they finished a leg of the race, the winners waited and watched as the other members of opposing teams reached the end of that particular leg.  What resulted was a mass of girls together during each leg of the race instead of a steady thinning out of the racers along the course.  The girls were apparently so excited to be part of this unique event they didn't want to miss out on seeing their friends perform each leg of the race, all the while laughing and cheering each other on.  At the end there was one young woman who complained that there were so many people around the "station" of one of the legs of the race she couldn't get to start her leg in a timely manner.  In America it would have been a valid complaint because it hindered her from performing her best.  But there in the middle of a worn out soccer field among a gaggle of giggling girls she was looked upon as a sore loser.  In America the rules would have been followed closely so that the competition could be completed to show who was the best, but in Zambia the rules were loosely regarded in favor of doing the competition together as a group.

pictures through Christmas

Here is the link to pictures taken through Christmas time.

https://picasaweb.google.com/110221855486252629515/ThroughChristmas?authkey=Gv1sRgCKzW7Pi1i_TuSg

One Nation, Two Worlds (Scott's post)

The motto on the Zambian seal is "One Nation, One Zambia".  It's a great motto.  It has been bringing together over 70 different tribes in this country all speaking different languages for many years in relative peace.  One aspect of Zambian culture where it falls short of its goal is bringing together rural and urban Zambians.
During a meeting in our village to discuss how we should proceed with finishing the well that our villagers are digging it was determined that the major problem right now to overcome was getting the well deeper.  The water level is lowest at the end of the dry season, which is about October in our area, and the villagers made a lot of progress on the well, reaching a depth of 8.5 meters.  However, as they continue to dig, the water table continues to hinder progress with digging deeper and makes it difficult to get anything but very muddy water from the well.  So it was decided that someone needed to ask water officials in our Boma (Mwinilunga, the nearest big town) for assistance with getting a water pump to evacuate the water from the well allowing it to be dug to about 12 m.
"OK, who is going to do that?" I asked.  I already knew the answer before I asked since this topic comes up whenever we discuss getting assistance for anything from government officials in the Boma. 
"You know, Mr. Scott, when you go and talk to the people in offices there in the Boma, they listen.  But when it is one of us doing the talking, we come away with nothing."  Ryvus said.  The villagers in the rural areas seem to have an inferiority complex when it comes to interacting with officials from the Boma.  The list of possible reasons why is long and complex.  Perhaps it is because the officials don't have any respect for the villagers.  Or because of the difference in education between Boma officials (which is usually a high school education and sometimes a Bachelor's degree), and the villagers (which can range from no formal education to grade 9 completion only).  Or an obvious lack of interest in helping the villagers.  Or a lack of understanding of the problems of the villagers.  One reason for lack of assistance that is not likely is a heavy workload.  Overworked is not something for which I have seen much evidence.  Many Peace Corps volunteers have lamented about how it seems that government officials are not doing much of anything when they visit them in their offices.
This inferiority complex, for whatever reason it exists, is probably one of the top 5 reasons for the slow pace of development in this country.  Some others include corruption, lack of infrastructure, the need for government officials to get "sitting fees" to do anything outside of their physical office, and feeling helpless against the effects of witchcraft.  But those are topics for a different blog.
With an understanding of the situation I went to the Boma and talked to three different agencies who might have a water pump for their activities.  Two of the three said they have a water pump, but it is in the provincial capital, Solwezi, and they are not sure when it will be back in Mwinilunga.  I wouldn't be surprised if the pump in question is actually the same pump, shared by both agencies when they have a project to complete in Mwinilunga.  We agreed to keep in touch about when it might be back, which translates to me calling the officials periodically to see if the pump is there or not. 
The third agency quickly dismissed the need for a water pump at all.  "Ah, those villagers are better off using their traditional ways to dig.  Just have them use buckets to draw the water as they dig." said the official in a tone wavering between disgust and conceit.  I asked the official to imagine standing in a hole 9 meters deep and just a little over 1 m in diameter trying to use a shovel and a pick to dig while avoiding getting hit in the head with one or two buckets continuously going in and out of the well, periodically sloshing water over you as the buckets going out hit the side of the well.  The official shrugged, "It is hard work, but that is what they should do.  It is expensive to transport a pump and the fuel to operate it to the village.  And they should use the local materials they have so they learn to do it sustainably."
Sustainable!  I thought.  As the Ministry of Health peppers rural Zambia with a borehole next to every school and health clinic in Zambia, and World Vision installs boreholes in other areas where they are focusing on children's welfare, this official has the nerve to talk about sustainability.  It is the catch-phrase of many organizations, including the Peace Corps, giving assistance to Zambia these days.  Those organizations are seeing the "free handouts" mentality growing in rural Zambia as government and NGO's have tried to jump start development in rural Zambia with gifts of equipment, structures, and training.  Many villages expect to receive the same free things that they heard about another village receiving.  I didn't think of this sustainability "rebuttal" until after I left.  At the time of my interaction with the man I spoke with remorse, "It is easy for us, with our nice bicycles and motorcycles, new shoes and nice clothes, and a well-paying job, to say 'let them use buckets'.  But this is hard work that none of US would be willing to do when we know there is an easier way.  So I will continue to try to find a water pump until all options are exhausted.  Only then will I tell my villagers that no agencies are willing to help with obtaining a water pump and that they will 'just have to use buckets'".  With that I simply walked off in disappointment.  To date we found a water pump we could use for a price but it is too small to be able to pump 12 m of vertical head.  I have not exhausted all options yet but I am thinking of how to tell our villagers to 'just use buckets' in a positive way.
By the way, lest you worry about our water supply, we are confident in our water filter to make our water clean enough for drinking if it has to come from the questionable water sources further away, and in the rainy season which we are in right now it is easy to collect fresh rain water from the gutters I built on parts of our roof.  For our villagers, however; using gutters requires some materials in which most are not willing to invest, so the woman and girls resort to carrying water on their heads for their daily water needs, where bathing and rehydration get the short straw because of the amount of time and energy required to get water from those questionable water sources.  Meanwhile those officals in the Boma, just 16 kilometers but a world away, continue to turn on a faucet in their house whenever they need water.