Even more Interview with a Volunteer...

I just got back from a fabulous week and a half in Eastern Zambia and Malawi. While I struggle to find the time to write about it all, here are some more FAQ to tide you over!

Q: What do you enjoy most about living in Zambia?

A: Again, the people. It must sound cheesy, I know, but at the end of the day a place is just a place – people are what make it special. And people here are lovely (at least most of the time!). Zambians have a great sense of humour, and are always up for a good laugh - even when someone hassles you, if you can remember to laugh a Zambian will almost never refrain from joining in. And culturally speaking, people are fascinating: from their names (Wisdom, Innocence, Blessings, Punish, Loveness, Lovemore, Green, Fireman…), to the way they speak (“the problemy with thisy issue, fromu my point ofu viewy, isy…”, or “theny he bought this, whazis… thisy mobile…”, or my absolute favourite: “cooking and cleaning and whaat, whaat…”), to the way they dress (the ever-changing hairstyles, the toques, the chitenges), the people are what make it great.

Q: How do you get around Lusaka?

A: I walk as much as possible, a) because it’s cheap, but mostly b) because I like walking. Zambians think I am crazy - for a Zambian choosing to walk is akin to choosing to be punched in the face. And when it is a mzungu they find it even harder to comprehend as they assume you have buckets of money with which you could buy your own car or take taxis everywhere. Zambians also find the pace at which I walk somewhat crazy - many of you will know that I tend to walk like my pants are on fire, and compared to the leisurely saunter of a Zambian I must look quite strange… It has kept me from being pick pocketed though, a fate which many a volunteer has faced. And I have had a gentleman ask me if I would ‘ecscolt’ him everywhere as he thought keeping up with my pace might help him be on time!

When I can’t walk, it’s raining, or I’m just feeling lazy, I take a minibus. Minibuses are 16-passenger vans that carry 20+ people. They are all painted turquoise on the bottom and white on top, and they all engage in devout worship of the bumper sticker variety – a good thing given the fact that most of them are about one stop away from minibus heaven. Many have adverts painted on them reading “Best for Whites”, which, for quite a while, I didn’t realise referred to washing powder and was keeping my eye out for minibuses pronouncing “Best for Blacks”… (racial language has a whole different meaning here so it wouldn’t have surprised me to see it). Each bus has a driver and a ‘conductor’ who convinces passengers to ride his bus, collects money, and lets the driver know when to stop and start by banging a determined number of times on the roof: one knock for go, two for stop. There are designated stops where buses are constantly piling up while the conductors race around yelling out the names of their destinations and trying to convince passers-by to get in. The price varies depending on your negotiating skills (i.e. how well do you bat your eyelashes) but it comes out to between 30 and 60 cents per trip.

Taxis are expensive and can easily eat up half of our daily allowance with one ride. I succumb to taking taxis at night if I am not within reasonable walking distance from my destination. Official taxis are painted entirely turquoise, but are outnumbered by unofficial taxis: basically anybody with a car. I've even been picked up by a lawyer who figured he’d make a few ‘pin’ (thousand kwacha) by playing taxi driver. It's also not uncommon for there to be more than just the driver in the car with you - Mel and I took a taxi home a couple of weeks ago with a driver and two of his buddies, which turned out to be a good thing because the taxi needed to be pushed a few times…!

Q: What is a typical day like?

A: 6:45-7:40: wake up, make coffee and breakfast, get ready for work.

7:40-8:00: walk to work, which involves dodging a lot of mud puddles,crossing the train tracks, and saying “no, dzikomo” to a thousand taxi and minibus drivers, fielding shouts of “mzungu”, “hallo my sista” and “hi sweetie” - an eventful walk with lots of interesting activity to observe along the way.

8:00-13:00: work…

13:00-14:00: lunch. I try to pack a lunch, but when I am not able to bring something I eat a vegetarian Bean Burger at a café on Cairo Rd. Often I pass by VSO on my lunch break to check email, see if anyone has sent me a letter (hint, hint) or meet with programme staff.

14:00-17:00: work…

17:00-17:20: walk home, buy some fruit and vegetables along the way.

17:20-22:30: what I do in the evenings varies, but I seem to be a lot busier than I anticipated I would be. Tuesdays is Nyanja class, Wednesdays all the VSOs get together for a drink, and most weeks the other nights are spent hosting or attending dinner parties. When I do have a night at home there are usually neighbours visiting, chores to be done, or work that I have taken home, so I don’t find a lot of time for R&R!

Weekends: vary, but can involve: a trip to the market, grocery shopping, hanging out with the neighbourhood kids, going to the pool, attending church, going out for dinner, drinks and dancing at a bar, a party (usually hosted by wealthier mzungus from the UN!), doing laundry (although last week we caved and we now have someone in who cleans and does laundry twice a week), reading, going for a walk, hanging out with friends, watching movies….


Q: How do you perceive the impacts of HIV/AIDS on Africa?

A: A difficult question to answer without one lifetime to observe and another to do a proper analysis… I must admit that, having done a Masters in Development Studies, I considered myself ready for the challenge of analysing what I see ‘on the ground’. Unfortunately, now that I am on the ground I am so immersed in the day to day of working in HIV/AIDS that I find it difficult to step back far enough to be able to analyse what is around me.

It is clear, however, that HIV/AIDS is having a huge impact on the lives of Zambians and the ability of the nation to develop. There is literally no family that has not been affected by HIV/AIDS somehow, and the virus alters the course of many lives. The elderly (grandparents) have been hit especially hard as they are responsible for caring for huge numbers of children whose parents die of AIDS and often have no source of income whatsoever. It is unclear just exactly what will happen in one generation when today’s adults, 20% of whom will have become infected or died from AIDS, form a heavily depleted group of grandparents who will have an ever growing number of orphans and ill family members to care for…

One of the major problems I see with the approach to preventing the spread of HIV is simply how complex an issue it is. Since HIV here is mainly spread through heterosexual activity, mitigating its spread requires changing the sexual behaviour of the population. Thus far, NGOs and government have attempted to do this by promoting ‘A,B,C’: Abstinence, Be faithful, use a Condom. While this is perhaps not making the situation worse, it is proving to be an overly simplistic way to deal with an problem driven by the complexities of the human psyche. In addition, the power of Christianity in Zambia (and in donor nations...) often hinders the increased use of condoms, or the ability to deal with sex in an open, honest and realistic way.



That's all for now, but if you have any more questions, feel free to send them my way!

Interview with a Volunteer (cont.)

Q: What is the food like?

A: Depends who’s cooking! Me: an experiment that occasionally turns out to be edible. Or pasta. Mel: an experiment that always turns out to be gourmet and delicious – she’s an Aussie with an Italian grandmother, so the ‘barbies’ and lasagne are particularly tasty! A Zambian: nshima and ‘relish’ (usually a meat stew with tomato sauce, and vegetable such as rape), or ‘chicken n’ chips’. A restaurant: I eat out about once every two weeks, usually at one of the many fabulous Indian restaurants where I enjoy braving new and unpronounceable dishes that are always divine (when not painfully spicy!).

Almost any ingredient is available in Lusaka, at a price, so we have the opportunity to make most anything we want. And if you feel like splurging there are a few fancy restaurants where the words “bed of mâche” and “saffron-infused” might appear on the menu (although, having never been, that is pure speculation).

Q: What is the music like?

A: There are many different types of Zambian music, and Zambians listen to music from many different parts of Africa. I don’t have a radio, so I only get a chance to hear it when I am in a taxi, which is not often, or at someone’s house. Most of the Zambians I know are very into Gospel music, which is much more modern than one might imagine. And, as in any other country on the planet, there is no shortage of international music, including Enrique Iglesias, Westlife, Daddy Yankee, and our national hero, Celine Dion.

Personally, however, I will always equate “Zambian music” to singing! I don’t hear it as often as I would like – on Sundays in Church, at events such as kitchen parties, at the prison, and occasionally on the street – but every time I hear Zambians singing it makes me tingle from head to toe. The unrehearsed harmonies never cease to astound me – it’s like they all attend some pre-birth singing academy. And the sounds and rhythms are so quintessentially African. It’s pure joy to listen to.

Q: What are the markets like?

A: For those of you that have visited a market in a developing country, you will have a good idea of what the markets are like here. For those of you that haven’t, the atmosphere is difficult to describe. Lusaka has three main markets in and around the city centre. The most “posh” is City Market, a covered market in a structure built by the government, complete with security stations! The aisles are jam-packed with stalls selling everything from used shoes, dried fish, football jerseys, food, photocopying, pirated CDs and DVDs, hand-tailored suits, and various unrecognisably fly-covered parts of cows and chickens. Soweto is a market immediately behind City Market, which I only went to for the first time last week because I was dissuaded by everyone I know warning me how dangerous it is (Sam was stabbed in the throat there…). It’s a more informal open-air maze of wobbly stands made of wood, tin and cardboard, and concrete structures that form narrow alleyways (which double as rivers when it rains). There are quite a few “restaurants” (charcoal BBQs made out of paint cans and not much more) so wandering around involves passing through a lot of makeshift kitchens. The atmosphere is more intense, and people’s stares tend to drop straight from your face to your pockets, but it’s still an interesting and exciting place, and Zambians are always up for a laugh if you manage to keep your sense of humour. Finally, Kamwala is a combination of stores, owned almost exclusively by the city’s Middle Eastern and Indian population, and Soweto-style stands. There are also workshop areas where they make furniture and metal pots, pans, baths and ‘braiis’ (BBQs). It’s a labyrinth and I almost always get lost, unless I am with Sam, who can zip through at lightening speed with his eyes closed. I get hassled a lot in the markets here, which can be frustrating, but it’s all part of the experience.

And of course the streets of Lusaka moonlight as a market – boys pound the pavement of Cairo Rd. offering belts, shoes, pants, DVDs, jewellery, perfume, and all sorts of other items I can’t ever imagine wanting to buy on my way down the street. At streetlights (called ‘robots’) there are always people selling newspapers, pineapples, globes, ManU bath towels, cell phone holsters, puppies, live turkeys and all sorts of other items I can’t ever imagine wanting to buy while waiting for the light to turn green... And of course, the streets are lined with women sitting behind baskets of fruits and vegetables or carrying them around on their heads.

Q: What is the weather like?

A: Generally, fabulous! It is summer now, the hottest and wettest time of the year. Days tend to be a combination of bright blue skies and scorching sunshine, and torrential downpours that cool everything off. After the rains, huge marshmallow castles of cloud appear as the sky opens up and returns to its standard bright blue. I quite like the system, except for the mud and puddles, I hate that part…

Interview with a Vamp-…Volunteer

Since I arrived in Zambia, many of the emails I have received have been overflowing with questions apparently not addressed by my blog efforts, so I have decided to kill a whole whack of birds with one blog and answer them all here! Well, actually, to give you a break, instead of answering them all at once I will do so in installments - so keep your eyes peeled over the next few days;)

~

Q: What exactly do you do there, anyway?

A: That’s a good question! And a hard one to answer. Sometimes I have to ask myself, as the days seem to fly by in a blur of meetings, phone calls, workshops, emails, and hours in front of the computer... According to my ‘job description’ I am here to build the capacity of the organizations I work with to raise and manage funds. In reality, I do a lot of different things, depending on what is needed at the time. Before Christmas I was involved in the Strategic Planning of two of the organizations I work with (ZARAN and TALC), which I really enjoyed. I have also helped both of those organizations draft a number of proposals for the work they aspire to do in 2006, including projects on treatment advocacy, research on HIV/AIDS in prisons, expanding ZARAN’s AIDSLaw Clinic, etc. At NZP+ I am now holding a weekly Proposal Writing Clinic where people can drop in to get help with their proposals or advice on how to write one. I drafted a short guide on proposal writing to give out at the Clinic, and will now be using it to develop a Fundraising Manual for NZP+. I also helped organize a Fundraising Workshop for VSO partners, and will be travelling to the eastern province of Zambia next week for another (yeah! I’m finally getting out of Lusaka!!).

Q: Do you like your job?

A: Yes! (but not always). There is a lot of good work being done by the organizations I work with, and I am very happy to be a part of it. Unfortunately, NGOs have the potential to be bureaucratic beasts, and just keeping the organization running can take up most of everyone’s time. Meetings are another necessary evil, as the need to be consultative and engage in participatory development has me in at least 4 meetings a week, and I’m just a volunteer!! And, working in fundraising, I am also frustrated by the donor system, which can limit or dictate the work of passionate people. I also find I am occasionally frustrated by the lack of guidance I have in my job here. I realize that freedom and flexibility in the workplace is something that most people would kill for, but having been in school for practically my whole life, I feel like I need some time under someone’s wing to ‘learn the ropes’ and get some experience before I am ready to really take advantage of such freedom. Maybe I’m just being hard on myself, but some days I really do feel like I just need to be a small cog in a big wheel for a little while before I am let loose on the world!

Q: What do you enjoy most about your job?

A: Definitely the people. Granted, I have to work with some people I don’t like, but in general I work with great people. But most of all I work for great people, and when I have the chance to interact with the people living with HIV/AIDS that my work is meant to be helping, it makes every frustration I face worthwhile. When I started my weekly “Proposal Clinic” two weeks ago, I arrived at 30 seconds past 8:30 to find four women already waiting for me, and I was bombarded with bear hugs and proclamations of how happy they all were that I was helping them. It really makes your day to have people like that around.

~

Coming soon...

Q: What is the food like?
Q: What is the music like?

and much, much more.

Christmas comes to the Lusaka Central Prison

Keeping with my habit of being ridiculously behind with my blog, I write today to tell a story of a very special event that took place 2 weeks ago. The story begins much further back, however, with an email that arrived shortly before Christmas from my brother's good friend, Blaine Armstrong. I was surprised to see his name in my inbox, as I had never received an email from him before, and I was even more surprised when I opened it up and read what he had to say.

My brother has always maintained that Blaine is a "good guy" and my brother is certainly not one to exaggerate. Blaine is such a good guy, in fact, that he was writing to ask me if I would make a Christmas donation on his behalf to people in the community of Lusaka! I was very touched, and very excited to be able to help Christmas joy spread from one side of the globe to the other.

Unfortunately, with all the work to finish and planning to do before I left for my holiday, I was unable to organize anything before Christmas. When I got back to Lusaka , however, I teamed up with a few colleagues to figure out what the best place for Blaine 's donation would be. One of my Zambian colleagues, Godfrey, runs the Prisons Counselling and Care Association, which works extensively in the prisons, particularly to establish schools so that prisoners can continue their education. When I mentioned the donation to him, he felt it could be put to very good use in the female section of the Lusaka Central Prison: there had been food shortages the previous week, some prisoners had small children to care for, and the school was in need of new supplies.

Blaine and his big heart agreed that the prison was a suitable place to spread some belated Christmas joy, so the next day Godfrey and I were off shopping with a list he had received from the female prisoners. We purchased:

- 20 bags of sugar
- 2 tins of powdered milk
- 12 bottles of cooking oil
- 10 cloth diapers
- 60 pens
- 40 pencils
- 10 boxes of chalk
- 150 exercise books
- 1 tin of black paint to make a chalk board
- a padlock for their school room
- 10 wash basins
- a case of laundry detergent paste
- 72 bars of bath soap
- a box of chlorine (to purify water)
- and supplies to fix their stove

Godfrey told every person whose path we crossed on our shopping trip about the donation, and the feedback was very positive. We even ran into a former prisoner who had attended the school for male prisoners set up by Godfrey, and who was very pleased to hear about what we were doing. I was offered many blessings, which I explained should not be for me, and promised I would pass them on to their rightful recipient back in Canada.

We delivered the gifts the following day. This is the description I sent in an email to Blaine:

~

"I met Godfrey at his office on Friday morning at 8am and we loaded up all the goods and headed for the prison. We had to hang around outside the gate for quite a while waiting for the responsible prison official to sign us in and organize our visit to the female section. The wait was eventful though, as I got to meet all sorts of passers-by (prisoners and guards alike) who were all extremely pleased to hear about why I was there. Finally, a whole group of female prisoners showed up to help us carry all of the goods over to their section. I had some bags in my hand, but they refused to let me carry anything and so I just watched as they heaved everything up on their heads and led me back to their compound.

Although I didn't see the inside of the male section, it seems to me that the women lucked out with their section of the prison. It is little more than a fenced-in area of land beside the main prison where they live mostly in the open. There are a few dormitories, a kitchen, and a toilet/ shower facility, but the rest of the area is open space with quite a few trees for shade, which gave it a much less 'institutional' or 'prison' feeling to it. Of course, it was sunny and dry when I happened to be there, and I'm sure on rainy, windy or cold days it is not a luxury at all to be so exposed to the elements. But at that moment, it was pleasant to arrive at the compound to see women out in the open air, gathered under the trees, cooking and doing laundry or other work.

We had to wait again once inside the female compound while Godfrey fetched the prison official that was to join us. The women arranged a nice place for myself and the two gentlemen I was with (the prison Chaplain and a co-worker of Godfrey's) to sit in the shade while we waited. In the meantime, the women gathered together under the trees and set up and area for the "ceremony". A few minutes later they called us over to sit under the tree in front of them, a crowd of approximately 100 women. As we sat down, they all stood and began singing. I wish there was some way to describe how beautiful it sounded, but unfortunately the words in my vocabulary would not do justice. They sang about 5 songs while we continued to wait, usually with one woman leading and 2 or 3 different harmonies. A journalist that joined us translated the lyrics for me and explained that the songs were about leaving behind their bad behaviour of the past and reforming, about redemption from God, and about asking to be loved as all others in society are loved.

Eventually Godfrey came over with the head of the female section and the deputy officer in charge of the whole prison. The "ceremony", as everyone was referring to it, began with a prayer by the Chaplain and opening remarks by the deputy officer. Then Godfrey made a lengthy but inspiring speech, referring to his own time in prison and emphasizing how, thanks to your donation, each woman was being given the chance to continue studying and use their education to move on once they are released. There was lots of clapping, cheering and tongue-wobbling hoots, and you and your family were praised often. Godfrey then asked me to speak, which I wasn't expecting. I was a bit nervous so I didn't say much, but let them know that I was very happy to be there, that I was sure you would be very happy to know that your donation had gone to such a good cause, and that I would be sure to pass on their thanks to you. I had also prepared a card to say "This donation is made on behalf of Blaine Armstrong and his family in Calgary, Canada ", which I presented to the deputy officer in charge, who said he would post it in the schoolroom. They also requested that I officially 'present' the donation to the women, so four of the prisoners with small children timidly came forward and I presented them each with an item from the pile of goodies.

Before we left there was another speech by the deputy officer in charge, which was a bit boring, except for the part about how wonderful and generous Canadians are:) The 'ceremony' closed with another prayer, and more glorious singing as we left the compound.

It was a very happy occasion that I felt very privileged to be a part of. I am just sorry that you were not there to be a part of it. I was also unable to take photos, as the person who needed to grant me permission to do so was in a meeting, but the deputy officer promised he would invite me back to take pictures of your donation being put to good use. I send Godfrey a message today to see when I might be able to do so, and he said he would follow it up. So I'll keep you posted.

Thank you again, from myself, Godfrey, the prison officials and all the women who are probably busy feeding, washing and educating themselves with your donation!"

~

Thanks, Blaine, for your donation and for allowing me to share your story with everyone. If those of you reading this are interested in making a donation to people in Zambia, just let me know and I would be happy to help out. The prisons will always be in need of supplies, and I am working with a fellow Canadian who works at a development-through-sport NGO to help a community coach fundraise to send 10 kids to school (more information to be posted shortly). I am also part of a team that is planning one of the first secondary schools for orphans and vulnerable children in Zambia (more information to be posted shortly) so there is no shortage of worthwhile places to direct any of that pesky extra cash getting in your way!!

I think this is also a good opportunity to reiterate my thanks to the long list of people that made donations to VSO – there may not have been singing or speeches involved, but your donations have made a big difference to my life, and to the lives of those that benefit from the work of VSO volunteers.