Giving Thanks with the Northern Province Peace Corps Family:
G
November. The rain is moving in and the hot African weather is moving out. Seeing, feeling, and hearing rain reminds me of February weather- the month of my arrival. Reminding me that I’ve almost been here full circle already. The clouds are thick and full now. Like marshmallows of mashed potatoes (what a tease!) But at any moment they can turn black and angry and everyone will look to the sky when a big gust of wind plows through.
When I first arrived in the village, I constructed a seasonal colander mapping out the shifts from season to season as it effects the activity of every man, woman, and child in the community. So now that I have nearly clocked a year here- conversations and explanations are resurfacing from the season calendar activity.
“Caterpillar months.” That is what my head teacher told me significantly disrupts Term 3. Cycling to
school in the early morning I pass trees that scream out at me “Muli Shani Madam Shannon,” a handful of third graders crouched in the trees plucking juicy green “ifishimu” (caterpillars) from canopy branches.
There are two types, the juicy green ones that remind me of a cartoonish character, or something from The
Lion King. And a black/yellow kind, a bit hairy and thinner than the green. Both longer than my finger. There
is a third- a very hairy gray/red kind that causes leaping and shouting. “Mona!” (look) they’ll say. There are
the poisonous ones, and you don’t want to accidently pluck that one from a tree.
Fast moving but camouflage- these beasts are collected by the bucketful in the bush. They are then dried out and friend with cooking oil and salt for a tasty relish with nshima or are sold for 30pin a gallon (50pin if you manage to make it down to Lusaka). They are packed with protein- which accounts for the rapid pace in which they grow.
My head teacher also mentioned rainy season effecting school going children. When he told me this is was dry season, with nearly 1,000 pupils at school- I couldn’t really conceptualize what the difference met. Now I know. I came to school the day of the first rains to find it mostly empty- the few pupils who actually showed up for the morning chores held umbrellas and ever wore citentenges over their uniform. I of course, the one teacher who lives in the bush rather than a few steps from the school, was the only one who managed to show up for work . Yet I was covered in mud from my 1k bike ride with a grade six pupil on the back carrier *we slid out several times). Of course this was a perfect excuse for the teachers not to go to school on time and then yell at the pupils who live nearly 6k away that rainy season is no excuse to not report to school. I wonder if they are aware of the dangerous bridge made out of branches that passes over the river that divides Mulabe village and Kateshi village- making it impossible for small children to cross when it rains.
What my head did not tell me was that rainy season/term 3 is “review term”- the grade 7 write their nation exams in October and the grade 9 are writing as we speak. Huge interruptions- and teachers regard it as unnecessary to teach since they feel they have already gone through the year’s work during term 2 and 3 (22 weeks total). We’ve had no teacher for grade 6 all term…yet they still tested them to see if they could move onto grade 7.
The elections were also a huge interruption. No one could sit still that week- all ears were glued to radios.
Back in the village I watch the farmers prepare their fields for maize- the crop that requires the most rain, the least pesticides, and provides the majority of your meals. At the same time they are waiting patiently for the government to pay them money for selling last year’s maize yield to the food reserves while grumbling about the former government that ate up all the money for campaigns.
Families are struggling for vegetables and for the past week, we’ve been eating just chicken with our nshima. Now typically, families don’t just kill their chickens to eat. Chickens- like any animal, are simply a form of savings- extra cash if they ever need something. You may trade your chicken for a large battery to power your single light bulb, or for a dog if you feel you need a security system on your property. But you rarely kill it and eat it- especially not ever for three nights in a row. So I knew something must be wrong when we were eating chicken for three nights in a row. And low and behold- there goes that seasonal calendar. Turns out in November, all the chickens are overcome with some sort of village disease, and they die off rapidly due to some sort of flea or something. So my Bamama(grandmother) has killed all her chickens before they fall sick. It was a sight to see my small neighbor kids carrying around handfuls of headless chickens. It just left me to wonder what we would be eating if not for the chickens and the relish that I bring over every night. What would my family eat if this chicken disease didn’t exist and I wasn’t around? For me, rainy season makes fetching water easy. I jut plop a bucket underneath the great big sky. Sweeping my yard it easy because you surely cannot sweep a stream that flows through the dirt. It also means a leaky roof. When my house was rebuilt they failed to finish thatching at the very top- which to me seems like the most important part. I ended up not having enough buckets to catch all the leaks, and the bucket that teetered on top of my mosquito net proved to backfire as I tossed a little too hard in my sleep and the whole thing dumped on me.
For the coffee company---which is not producing coffee at the moment but rather, wheat-the rainy season means they have to work fast to gather all the wheat before the rains come down hard and ruin all the output. This first batch of wheat will be their first profit since they reopened after they went into debt. All the coffee is in the nursery. And once they finish up the wheat, they will start planting soya beans.
For the bush, the rains mean greenery. It’s growing so fast. When the first rains came, it was like everything woke up. spiders and snakes and all sorts of flying insects. And at the end of the day- it’s still November in New York. And right now the last thing Owego wants to hear about is rain. And as the winter sneaks up on all of you back home, the rains are slowly moving in Zambia. Gone are the cold mornings biking to school with my fingerless gloves, the harvesting of cassava. Gone are the days when the teachers’ seasonal excuse was the classroom being too cold. Gone are the days spent in community entry wandering down bush paths and trying to rein act my American exercise running schedule. Gone is the brief but brutal hot season. Gone are 4 close friends, as they are now settling back into their new lives in America. Gone are the days when it was too hot to teach, when I melted just sitting and we would run to the nearby waterfalls after school.
I spent Thanksgiving day with all of my fellow volunteers in Northern Province. We gutted a pig and roasted it underground with a hot fire. We also slaughtered a turkey, had mashed potatoes, stuffing, desserts, casserole, and so much delicious food. We split up into cooking teams, utilizing our one stove, one large outdoor grill, and several braziers- coordinating cooking times around each other. We were worked together day and night and at the end had a beautiful meal with beautiful people. It was the first Thanksgiving that the emotions of thankfulness and gratitude overcame me with such strong power. We stood in a circle and stated what we were thankful for. We mentioned our families back home and we mentioned our families in Zambia. We thanked each other for the support system of volunteers and for all the new friendships we’ve made. And there was a mood that filled the room. This is the toughest job one might ever pursue. It’s lonely and frustrating, long and tiring. But how could I ever ask for anything different? We are all blessed to be able to do what we do. And to have each other to fall back on when the times get tough.
Anyways. Here is some of the projects that I am looking to start after the holiday season.
-Adult literacy classes
-Preschool
_Girls empowerment club
- A school library
- Continuation of the penpal project with Meaghan’s school
And in the spirit of the holiday, thanks for all the continued support. Your letters, emails, everything. It really helps. I’m so thankful for all of you
My friend's puppies
Hitching to the festival
Ukutina ifishimu. In english: Extracting the feces of catepillars
Catepillars- its whats for dinner
My friend Abigail and myself
My co-teacher
