1/Boondoggle

1/Boondoggle

Apologies for a less than loquacious account- I just wanted to post an update to village life quickly before I head out of town and away from internet access.

This week marks a month since moving to the village (although I'm in the provincial capital this week for meetings) and even looking back on what I wrote three weeks ago, I can see a huge difference in my integration, my language skills, my work prospects, and my settled-in-ness (what a compound word).

In the past few weeks, I have not be extraordinarily busy but I have kept occupied and made some connections in  my village and catchment area. I took myself on a walk to the clinic and met the local clinic worker, a lovely young woman who shared details of Zambia's health system. On my walk, I wandered to the next village, greeting people, and ended up running into a former counterpart of the previous volunteer at my site. We sat and talked and planned a community meeting for the next week. Other volunteers have said the work "just happens." The idea of work "just happening" while I sit and twiddle my thumbs was unsettling- I felt the need to go out and find work. My host family is very helpful and supportive but has been encouraging me to stay in, to become accustomed to life in the village. For one of the first times in my life, I'm taking the requisite initiative to *get stuff done* As unsteady as it feels, it is also necessary. Since moving in, I've met the clinic worker and talked about helping with malaria work, met the new headmaster at the equivalent of middle school in my community and chatted about plans for me to teach science, met various government officers in Ikelenge, met with an immigration officer and renewed my pre-work permit paperwork, attended an agricultural show for the district, met with other Peace Corps Volunteers in the district, chatted briefly with a few fish farmers in my area, greeted neighbors copiously, attended church, visited the chief (which deserves its own account, to come), and goofed around with the children who live near the spot where I have network in my village.

In addition, I have had two community meetings with two different villages in my catchment area. While the Lunda is still somewhat elusive to me, I have benefited from wonderful counterparts who translate for me. We used participatory tools to do a needs assessment for the community, as well as discuss daily schedules and existing strengths in the area. The outcome of both of these meetings was nutrition groups, especially focusing on helping  mothers ensure their children grow well. I've started meetings with one of the groups so far and it has been going well. Perhaps more enthusiasm than organization as yet.

The fish farming work is still dragging its feet (or rather I'm dragging on creating it, if I'm the active party here now) but I'm content with the work I have,  the lifestyle I'm leading, and the prospects for the next two years. And it's only one month into community entry!

Orthobiosis

Orthobiosis (n)- correct or moral living

After reading about the foundations of Transcendentalism and John Muir's environmental activism, I've been thinking about the idea of "living simply" as many of our intellectual and philosophical pioneers have advocated as a solution to both societal ills and the increasing impact of society on the environment. I understand- one who is consumed by thoughts of industrialization, of efficiency, of social propriety is not affected by the natural environment, cannot be made to move by the swirling wind and the sursurrus of tall grasses.

Still, I think equating a "simple life" with environmental engagement is problematic. People in Zambia (rural Zambia, anyways) may be said to live simply: we fetch our water and therefore are aware of its seasonal flux and the imperative of exercising parsimony. We cook food over fires, knowing full well the source of the fuel and again, the need to conserve it, for the sake of labor if not deforestation and financial security. We (how quickly I switch to "we" when I've only been here a few weeks) grow our food from nearby land and understand the amount of work required to feed a family. By nature of the requirements of life here, there is certainly a more established connection with the natural environment. If we had heating and air conditioning, running water, oil/gas/electricity, tractors, paved roads, motor vehicles, grocery stores, or internet connection, I cannot say the same knowledge of the land that sustains us would exist. The pioneers of environmentalism throughout time, from Humboldt to Muir to Leopold, say it is this essential connection to the land that develops and appreciation and in turn, a desire to conserve that which sustains us. That is not necessarily the case here. Twice this week I have attended meetings where community leaders have asked about building dams, not particularly caring about downstream circumstances. The annual burning of the bush has begun, to clear away grasses and potential habitat for mice and snakes. Mice escaping the fire are caught and eaten, while any snake is killed on sight. People see and understand the effect of their agriculture on the soils in the area, but move to newly cleared fields every few years rather than engaging soil conservation methods. Firewood is harvested as needed from the surrounding forest and I have seen no evidence of a sustainable management plan for firewood. People remark on the changing climate, observing shifting patterns of rainfall and higher incidence of drought but still associate diesel vehicles with wealth, and therefore status.

Perhaps knowledge and deep appreciation of land, creation of a personal land ethic, only comes in contrast to the lifestyle fraught with distractions of modernity. What is a simple life, then? I find myself thinking it is problematic, both environmentally and socially. Saying a rural life is simplistic is inherently condescending, as it compares to a modern, complex, "advanced" life, if we resort to Cartesian dichotomies. Even with the best intentions, expressing a desire for a simple life implies rural life is free from the problems of a complex world, which it is certainly not. The global connectivity of a single biosphere shifting climate is proof enough of that.

It is easy, somewhat, to focus on the here and now, the immediate surroundings and the immediate future in this lifestyle. Without internet connectivity, it's hard to know and subsequently be concerned about foreign politics, for example. People's concerns tend towards putting food on the table this evening and having money to pay for the upcoming term's school fees. There is certainly an easier path to mindfulness here. One can focus on the fire in front of your feet, cooking your food that you have grown, and seeing the trees and stars overhead. Just because mindfulness is facilitated, it is not a single state. There are young men and women here whom when asked, say they want to become doctors, teachers, or scientists after their education. To say that life here is simple seems to rob the youth of those who live rurally of the potential for technologically advanced, interconnected futures.

Sometimes I wonder if it is a desire of those with technologically burdened lives to shirk responsibilities that prompts statements like "I wish life were just simple," while picturing life in a rural setting. We don't want to deal with broken machines, troubleshooting software issues, traffic, demands of the workplace, plus the basics of survival. For we envision a simple life as one that focuses on survival necessities without the problems we perceive as societally-engendered complications. Our philosophical leaders say these complications only distract us from the truly important matters; freedom from them enables us to yearn towards an enlightened, clear life.

My Lunda is not nearly good enough to ask about philosophical inclinations of Zambians in my village, so this has to remain a one-sided perspective.

Stoup

Stoup (n)- a vessel for holding holy water

This week, I bring you, a poem!


In reverence of the spring

Sloping clearing
as if pulled by the gravitas
yearns toward yonder hollow
where through grasses parted and boughs disentangled
one discovers a humble temple
nestled into the forest shade
a canopy of verdigris a living crown

Beams like fallen pillars
grown hoary with moss and fern
ford a path to diminutive altar
sanctum sanctorum
a pool of lucid water
bubbling forth from the earth

Peer over the walkway's edge
See the ground murmurs, sways, sighs
a stream is proffered from unseen depths
and swells to the surface

A hopeful upwelling, an offering of existence
from the sacred to the
not profane
just ordinary
For this spring in its niche
sustains the ordinary
lives of people in the village
nurtures gardens
feeds fish ponds
cleanses children
and defeats thirst

Oh the taste of meek exsurgence!
Savour is an insufficient sentiment
It hearkens to ancient rocks
to gravel debris
of caverns under mountains
yet is every fresh.
Reviving more than body
rehydrating the spirit
Restoring umbilicus to Earth
and gurgling ever forth
adored.

Boondoggle

Boondoggle (v)- to do work to keep busy

Here's how today went: wake up at 6:30, actually arise at 7:00, greet neighbors as soon as I open the door, fetch water from spring, start brazier, set water to boil on brazier. While cooking water, sweep house and front yard. Greet other neighbors. Once water boils, make tea and porridge, keeping most of the water for bathing. Eat breakfast, using leftover coals to make popcorn for a snack later. Greet host mother and host father. Use water to bathe, apply lotion, wrap up in chitengi and get dressed. Wash dishes using leftover bathing water. Set dishes to dry on rack made of sticks. Till a few beds in my garden and plant gathered tomato, papaya, and passionfruit seeds. Whisper encouragements to my little mint plant (encouragemints!). Use leftover clean dishwater to water garden and set buckets to dry. Eat popcorn. At this point, it's only 10:30 or so in the morning...so I sit and wait. I wanted to go to church to introduce myself but my host mother is not going today and my host father is not around. We're supposed to go meet the chief this afternoon, so I don't want to wander off.

I sit inside and knit, play games on my phone, listen to music, eventually collect the dry dishes, leave some behind because they're covered in ants, check on the garden two or three more  times, chat with some neighbors about their school work, watch the goats wreak havoc, test paint colours on my wall, go through all my photos, play my phone game again...time is dragging on. My ataata eventually returns (from church, apparently? There is so much I don't understand) and says the chief was not feeling well enough to meet with anyone today. We will go tomorrow. More sitting and trying to keep busy, trying not to think about the two years ahead that suddenly seem looming.

It's day five in my village and I have:
-built a shelf for my chisasa (bathing shelter)
-fixed/installed hinges on my garden gate
-started a compost pile
-tilled some beds and planted a colourful assortment of plants (fingers crossed they all grow)
-unpacked, rearranged clothing and furniture
-hung maps, photos, a calendar, and some butterflies on the wall
-affixed my mezuzah and had a great (as in funny) conversation with my amaama about mezuzot.
-made a jewelry hanger, a tp holder, and a pair of baby booties (plus the knitting needles from some building wire)
-fetched water, washed clothes, had clothes covered in ants, devised how to store clothes to protect from said invaders
-cooked popcorn, pineapple fried rice (with pineapple from my parents' fields, deeelish), some weird but tasty apple fried rice, crepes, more popcorn, tea...
-struggled, was chastised, struggled again, and I think figured out how to light my brazier properly. My amaama was muttering under her breath in Lunda something about a woman who can't light a fire.
-walked to the network spot (a hill about a twenty minutes' walk away) three times, greeting neighbors along the way. They all know my name but I am struggling to learn family names. There seems to be some reticence about just giving names.
-did my accounting from settling in purchases
-made a body pillow
-biked into the BOMA for a planned meeting with the district councillor, who was otherwise occupied
-met another volunteer in the area, who showed me around Ikelenge. It's small but has almost everything! We found apples, yarn, peanut butter, jam, oats, local fruits and vegetables, bicycle parts, sandals, and chitengi. We wanted bread but the baker was out.
-met my Department of Fisheries supervisor and the local agriculture officer, exchanged numbers
-very briefly met the local clinic worker and one of the organizers of a girls' group. I was expecting/hoping to sit down and talk plans but it was strictly an exchange of names and handshakes. Is that the Zambian way? Is that my American bias, thinking "let's get to business"?
-Read some of a biography of Alexander von Humboldt (it's called The Invention of Nature and is highly recommended)
-had a conversation of sorts with my headman
-tried to speak some Lunda. I'm really struggling with understanding people, which is keeping me from just going around to start conversations with fish farmers or strangers
-remembered to stretch/work out and take my malaria prophylaxis every day

This is a list I'm fairly satisfied with but when I think about this next list, I'm a little concerned.

Since arriving in the village, I have not:
-met with any fish farmers
-seen any fish ponds, except for a quick glance at my host father's since they are <100m away
-been introduced to any farmers outside my village circle
-visited the clinic, mission hospital, school, or police station
-met the chief
-toured/been explained the communities in my area. My ataata has mentioned making a map with me, so we'll see
-made any plans for community meetings or fish farming work
-had any real communication about how things are here. There has been a little surface level talk
-identified potential friends or new counterparts. A few of my neighbors seem nice?
-ate Nshima with neighbors. How essential is that really to integration?
-learned any information about the immigration office...I apparently have a meeting with them in a few weeks and no one has confirmed if we even have an immigration office in Ikelenge.

I know I need to have patience as culturally, things move slowly and people are very much occupied with their own lives. Overwhelmingly, I feel people in the village have been going out of their way to help me, whether by patiently listening to my broken Lunda or just greeting and welcoming copiously. I'm truly appreciative but I also was anticipating people wanting help, not people wanting to help me. I know Peace Corps' development happens at a grassroots level, and slowly, but as the village asked for a volunteer, there must be something(s) they want me to work on, right? I was expecting at least one individual to approach me and say, "Oh good, you're here. I want to talk to you about implementing X and how you might help." So far, as we say in Lunda, kosi (nilch).

So...be more proactive (?) I plan to wander some, stop by the clinic and school, and keep struggling to introduce myself. I can't exactly organize meetings by myself or find fish ponds on my own. I tried asking a few people in Lunda and the conversations went much like this:
<Are there fish ponds around?>
<Yes>
<Oh, where are they?>
<Around.>
<Around where?>
<Just around.>
Oh. I still have a looooong way to go before I understand the culture, let alone integrate respectfully. I'm trying my best. Maybe culture first, then community?