Sunday, March 25, 2007
25.03.07 Highs and Lows
Mozambique is now nearly 2 weeks ago. It was an amazing experience and I'm not really sure how to condense it. It took 3 days to drive there, part of which was going through the most amazing electrical storm I've ever seen. When we finally arrived we camped on a beach, at a campsite that had been trashed in the storm, next to a bar that had also been destroyed. Only the pool table was left intact, but all the surrounding walls had fallen down. Needs must, however, and the bar was set up in the dive shop next door. There were 15 of us in total, which included a driver, a cook and a couple of the project managers from African Impact and 11 volunteers. It was incredibly hot - mid 40c during the day. I remember at one point being in a car and thinking it was quite cool then seeing the temp guage said 31c! How strange is that for a Scot!
The work with Unicef/WFP was great to be involved with, and from an objective view it was really interesting to see how aid distribution works on the ground (pretty slowly in this case) and just travelling around with local people to get the outlying villages/islands was fascinating. One day was spent on a truck. On the way out we sat on top of all the food and materials piled on the truck and then on the way back we were on the empty flat bed. Luckily I remembered my factor 40 as otherwise I would have burnt to a crisp. Another night and day was spent on a boat going out to a couple of islands. It was also quite frustrating as at some points hours and days were wasted for really stupid reasons and there wasn't a huge amount we could do about it. The boat trip was a case in point - the boat sat in the harbour for a day, left at 9pm, got stuck on a sandbank for 4 hours, arrived at 5 the following morning, couldn't offload until 8, then it broke down at 9am, didn't get fixed until 11, we didn't get til the next island til 5pm at which point we discovered no-one was expecting us! It was also difficult as English was not widely spoken, and although we sometimes had a translator, quite often they would disappear or just not turn up so we were left to rely on sign language.
It was also amazing to do the drive from Livingstone, across Zim and Mozambique and down the coast road. Zim and Moz are stunningly beautiful countries. The problems are well known, and I don't want to comment from here. On that note, I know there's been trouble in Harare and its been widely reported in the UK. I am so far away from it that I only heard news as someone looked at the BBC website. So don't worry, there's no risk.
I've been here at Antelope Park now for 10 days. There's no getting away from the fact that I don't enjoy the work here nearly as much as Livingstone, and I have struggled to settle down. I hate the fact that we are unable to go into town and are really stuck in this park, and also that the internet is so expensive that it seriously restricts how much I can communicate with the outside world. The other volunteers are largely people I have nothing in common with, but thankfully Anne is here - she's been my roomie since January and we get on brilliantly. Having said that, the work with the lions can be fantastic at times. There are 2 and 3 month old cubs that I spend time with most days. This afternoon I was walking 11 month old cubs - these are big boys. One of them decided to pinch my rucksack and I had absolutely no chance of persuading him to let it go. They are so strong, and they have lots of quite sharp bits. I have managed a bit of riding here, which has been great, and my back has been fine. Anna, can I tell you that I was cantering round in the ring yesterday (we're not allowed to canter in the park) singing an Abba song (as a distraction technique) feeling really good about it coming back to me.
There are lots of other critters here - he park has zebras, giraffes, elephants, loads of different antelopes and two very bad tempered ostriches. There are loads of creepy crawlies and nasty thingies - mostly of the bug type. I got a tick stuck in me for 2 days which was quite unpleasant and grooming the horses mostly consists of tick removal. Yeuch. I am coping with most of the creepy crawlies in the sink, but I did almost slice my leg off when a frog jumped out from the corner of the shower as I was shaving my legs. I am used to it a bit more now and I do check before I go in.
I was chased by one of the ostriches last week. It is quite surreal really. There are moments when I do really enjoy it and think wow (or eek!) but I'm not sure I'll stick it out here for the whole of April. Watch this space.
Best wishes to all.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
15.03.07 Back - in body if not in spirit
The internet here is slow and very very expensive, so I will do a proper update in the next few days after some thought as to how to express myself in shorter form than before, and without sounding like an emotional basket case!!!! I'll try for a couple of photos as well.
I start working with the lion cubs this afternoon. I'm looking forward to it, but its not real life here and I feel a litte ambivalent about it given recent experiences - both Livingstone and Vilanculos. Still, it will be an amazing experience in itself and I will no doubt enjoy it when I get started.
More later. Keep the emails coming.
Miss you all!
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Farewell Livingstone, Hello Mozambique???





Sunday, February 25, 2007
26.02.07 Last Week in Livingstone


I don't want to focus on leaving here just yet, although it is looming large in my mind, and it sort of brings back the pain of leaving the UK at the beginning of January. I feel like I'm leaving friends and somewhere I feel very comfortable. When I was thinking about what order to do the projects I thought that this would be the hardest to leave, which is why I put the incentive of riding and playing with lion cubs after it.
Anyway, enough of that for the moment. The rest of last week was thankfully a bit calmer than Tuesday. I got over the hangover eventually, only in time for another big night on Thursday. I had only 3 hours sleep and then was back in class at 7am. Miss M felt unwell and said she was getting malaria so she went home at 7.15 and left my then current hangover and I to deal with the class. I have to confess I ran out of steam at 11am and sent them home an hour early. As expected, Miss M turned up for work fine this morning, except she had two "meetings" to go to. I found out this morning that her house is only 5 minutes walk away. Work that one out.
On Thursday I had 20 minutes to spare between lessons so I got them to think about the similarities and differences between me as a mzungu (white person) and themselves. We spent ages on the similarities, but after they'd done the white skin bit they struggled to think of differences. There were little pennies dropping everywhere, it was great. One wee boy, Gift - the class joker - said that one difference is that he is 11 years old and I am 40. So I said to him that I used to be 11 years old and one day he would be 40. "Not me Teacher," he said "I already have HIV." I have no response to that except a huge sadness that sinks in and sits there.
Thursday night was good fun. We had dinner at home (one of the best so far) and then went to a couple of bars and ended up in one of Livingstone's nicer clubs, dancing till 3am. I like the African dance style - all swaying and hip movements. On Friday a few of us went to a touristy restaurant that has a show of local dance and music. Of course it ended up being me that was pulled from the audience to get up there and shimmy in front of 150 people - locals and tourists. I'm quite pleased there are no photos that came out but my friends say that I held my own reasonably well.
I didn't manage to blog on Saturday as promised as I brought one of the orphan boys to the internet cafe and was teaching him how to use email. It took a while so I concentrated on that and sent a few emails while I was waiting. Most of the PCs were being temperamental as they have had new software installed, so I was sat using the computer at the front desk for a few hours and it was nice to watch the comings and goings. This boy - P - is a real sweetie, 17 years old, very quiet, has had a pretty awful time, which he won't talk about except to say it was rough, and is struggling to finish school. The committe that run the orphanage were give money to pay his school fees for this year, but that money has disappeared, so HH, I am going to use the money you gave me for the hamster cage to pay P's school fees. I'm going to be back in Livingstone in August so I'll pay the fees for the whole of next year when I'm back as I'm determined he should finish school. Joyce and I are supporting him together. He tells me it is impossible to get time to study in peace at the orphanage so he sets his alarm for midnight or 1am and gets up to work when the other boys are asleep. When they get up to go to school he then goes to sleep as he goes to school in the afternoon (it works in shifts everywhere). Its a tough existence but he does this with one of the other orphan boys so at least he is not on his own. He's not looking forward to me leaving as it is only a week after Joyce went, but we've got him a mobile phone so that we can all keep in touch (if I can get any reception in Zim, which I'm told is intemittent).
P wants to be a doctor or a nurse. Joyce and I are going to make this happen, so at some point we'll have to think of something to do for fundraising but in the meantime we want to get him through school.
I'm pleased to report that Chuma was back at school on Friday and being sufficiently mischeivous that I had to make her come and sit at my desk with me. The kids hate this - its another great, violence free punishment. I can't even think about saying goodbye to the kids, but I have decided that its not goodbye anyway, just a temporary farewell as unless something intervenes in the interim, I will come back to Livingstone in September. Miss M was on the rampage with the hosepipe again this morning, this time in an RE class. They were talking about the 10 commandments. Surely there must be one that says 'thou shalt not brutalise little children'? It is just my/our sensitivity though - the kids accept it and laugh at the others who are getting hit. One of the other volunteers told me about a Radio 4 programme she heard just before coming out here. There is a mens' group that is speaking out against domestic violence but the other side of the story was a woman who said something to the effect of how will I know if my husband loves me if he doesn't hit me? Answers on a postcard please!
Friday, February 23, 2007
23.02.07 A Quickie
I was having a chat with one of the other volunteers this afternoon, and we wondered if it is possible really to describe life here. It sounds quite melodramatic, and especially things like Tuesday morning for me, but given the work that we do, it actually is quite dramatic sometimes. I hope you don't think I'm a drama queen about it all! And I do hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it.
I'm coming back tomorrow for a long sesh to answer emails, do a proper blog entry and upload some photos, so you'll have to hang on til then. Those of you who've asked to be added to the automatic circulation, I'll do that tomorrow. If anyone else wants this, please let me know.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
21.02.07 The F- Word
It was of course a memorable day, and I knew there were sneaky plans afoot amongst my friends here, but it was not a good start. Let me tell you a story....
The day started as normal except that I got 2 grunts from my 2 roomies when I got up, instead of the usual one. The combi arrived to take me to school and I got there just before 7am. In true Zambia style, the kids that are not installed in their classrooms at 7am are hit with a piece of rubber hose pipe. As we drove into the school grounds - a sandy area with a circle of grass in the middle around which assemblies are held - I saw Tuesday morning's beater attack a group of girls on their way in. I went into my classroom which is the nearest one to where we are dropped off and suddenly one of the boys yelled "Teacher Teacher. Chuma!" Chuma is the name of the girl I have (I think) mentioned before that Miss M doesn't beat because she faints.
I ran outside back into the yard. Chuma was lying on the ground. I couldn't see what state she was in as there were loads of kids around and a few teachers doing sod all but standing there waving their hose pipes. This is, I suppose, where being a mzungu can carry you through. I yelled at the kids and teachers to get out of the way and got to her. It was starting to pour so I told them to get umbrellas. Chuma had not fainted. She had gone into what I can only describe as a sort of catatonic state of shock. Her eyes were open, she was totally non responsive, her pulse was racing and she was about to swallow her tongue. I'm not so good with all this stuff, but something kicks in - maybe all the practice for the first aid badge at brownies, maybe the experience Nicki and I had when we saved the girl on the Meadows - but I got her into the recovery position and secured her breathing. At some point, and I don't really remember when, I yelled to the Nazi beater that this is what happens when you beat children. One of the other teachers suggested we leave her to recover and go and pray. Apparently this had happened before and it could take an hour for her to recover. My response, calmer this time, was that she needed more practical assistance. I phoned for the combi to come back and take her to hospital, which, to cut a long story short, was where I spent the rest of the morning. She started coming round after about 30 minutes and could talk a bit after a further hour. After a further hour she was much better and in the absence of any obvious illness she was discharged with malaria pills (she'd been having chills recently), paracetamol - which is the cure for all ills here, and an instruction to drink sweet drinks for the rest of the day.
Interestingly both the headmaster and deputy head turned up at the hospital to see her. She hadn't a clue who they were, which was mildly amusing in the circumstances. They told me that when I take her home I should stop by the school to get a teacher to come to speak to her parents to translate. I was to tell the parents that she had collapsed after being threatened with being beaten. "She was beaten" I said. "I saw it." "But tell her parents she was only threatened." I shrugged. I made the headmaster come in to see the doctor so that the doctor could tell him what first aid to do if and when this happens again. I also told him that he needs to compile a list of particularly vulnerable children and make sure that all teachers know they should not be hit. I stopped short of the full debate. In some respects I wonder if that was wrong, but I was quite stressed and emotional and may not have been as calm about it as I would need to be. It was not the right place or time. Or maybe it was. Anyway, I persuaded them to leave the hospital as it was more important that they go back to do their work at school.
The combi came to get me at the hospital with one of our Zambian drivers, David. Again, I think I've mentioned him before. He's high up in the hierarchy of the tribe in the area, and one day will be chief. He knows everyone and everything. He knows the language that Chuma speaks - Lozi - and so when I took her home he translated for me and her parents. Apparently this problem started 2 years ago and occurs, as I guessed, when she is put under stress. They have tried all known traditional medicine remedies (oh, I dread to think) and not had success with other doctors. I honestly don't think they have actually tried anything as she was not previously registered at the hospital, which is where the only doctors here are. So I left her with 2 cans of Fanta, 2 muffins from Wonderbake, and all the neighbours kids coming round to see the mzungu teacher.
David took me back to school. I didn't think there was anything else I could do, and I feel a bit helpless now. The head and deputy pounced on me when I got back and asked me what I told the parents. In true Zambia style I shrugged again and said we just discussed Chuma's health. When I walked back to my class room several of the teachers came up to me and said "it wasn't me who hit her, I would never do that." I didn't say much but when I got into the classroom I sat Miss M down and told her in no uncertain terms was she ever to leave the girl in that state and not take her to a clinic (there is one about 200m away) or the hospital. I don't really know if this is right, but it looks quite dangerous to me, so I egged it up a bit to scare her.
I know I'm being hard on the teachers. They are not all uncaring monsters. They are relatively uneducated and a product of their own system and environment but to leave a child like that and go and pray (I'm shouting here). What a load of b******s. How I managed to stay calm I don't know - you do what you have to do I guess.
By that time it was 11am. I pretty much shooed Miss M out of her English class into a corner to do marking, and started an Art class. They love Art so much, they get so excited when they see me come in with my bag of crayons and paper. At this point, I confessed it was my birthday, so they sang happy birthday, and then I had to confess the number. Ah, it was brutal! To these kids, 40 is ancient, but I was told yesterday, by a prostitute in a bar (I'm getting there) that it is a matter of real celebration to get to 40 as so many people here die in their 20s. I know that, and truly, that's how I feel.
Anyway, yesterday's art class produced about 50 birthday cards from my little darlings - it was what they wanted to do. I treasure them. After school they were being punished for speaking "vanacula" (vernacular - usually their own language) by being made to cut the grass on the football field (very handy as there are no lawn mowers) so we walked out into the field and they started to sing for me. They sang local songs and some English hymns. Some of the kids objected as the others were singing in a language they didn't understand. What you need to understand is that these kids are not stupid. They are not backward at all. What it is, is that they are being educated in sometimes their 3rd or 4th language. Imagine, those of you who learn a few phrases of Spanish or Italian before the annual jaunt, if that was the language you had to do business in. It is like that. I have learned bits of the 4 local languages here - Nyanga, Bemba, Lozi and Tonga, but I get them mixed up quite a lot which causes much amusement.
It was a mixed morning. Awful and lovely. I needed to walk, so despite the scorching heat again, and a heavy bag of art stuff, I decided to walk home. It is about 3 miles but I felt that I needed the time. As I was walking for about 15 minutes I heard 2 guys say the m- word as they came up behind me so I just turned around and said "yes I am a mzungu!" We got talking and they showed me a short cut home which cut it down to 2 miles, which was a bonus. They offered to carry my bag as well, but hey - principles are princples!
I got back to the house at about 1ish, tired, grubby and sweaty. And very hungry. I was told that I wasn't doing afternoon projects, that I should go and have a shower and scrub up a bit, and be ready to leave at 2.30. I did as I was told (it sometimes happens) and Angus, one of our favourite local taxi drivers, turned up at 2.45 (its Africa). Joyce, Anne and Debs took me for high tea at the Royal Livingstone hotel. This involves nibbling crust free smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches, drinking filter coffee in my case, ceylon tea for the others, and then diving into the enormous, and I mean really enormous, trolley of sweets and pastries. There must have been about 30 things to choose from. Unfortunately after 2 months of rice and veg, my eyes are way bigger than my stomach, and I only managed 3 plate loads. A monkey came and grabbed Joyce's quiche, and some sugar. Oh, and did I mention the cocktails? I had a Pimms to start with, and then I got champagne cocktails for us all.
Just to make an interesting backdrop there was a huge storm over the river in front of us with really dramatic forks of lighting.
After that we got a taxi back to Rhapsody's, the place where we come for happy hour cocktails on Wednesdays and Fridays. The manageress, Sonya, brought me a monster cocktail called Rhapsody Blue. I don't know if it was deliberate, but we'd been having a discussion a few weeks ago, and I'd said I thought it was unnatural to eat and drink blue things (no, bluberries are purple). Anyway, I made everyone else taste this as well, as it was huge. It starts to get a wee bit blurry after we played a game of "Shots and Ladders" which involved blue sambuca. More blue - its not right! Anyway, I'm sure they fixed it as I seemed to land on every square which involved drinking, and whenever they could nominate a friend for a shot, it was me. That was all I drank (a lot!) until much later, about 11pm I think, when another blue monstrosity of a cocktail turned up. I will be sweating blue soon. I used my usual tactic of sharing it around, which seemed to work fine.
We then went into town to a bar where there are mostly locals, loads of prostitutes, and a few non local whites. We stayed there for a couple of hours, danced a bit, drank a bit more - water in my case - and I ended up talking for ages in French with a prostitute called Gladys. It was her friend Christine who said I should celebrate being 40. It was a sad sight to see these beautiful young girls (the Zambians are an unfairly good looking people) put themselves through this. Well, I didn't see it, I only glimpsed a snapshot on the surface. It was enough for me.
We got home at 3am. I did not make it into school today! I emerged at about 8am, sat on the verandah in my PJs for a while, someone put a coffee into my hand (would you believe I probably only have 2 or 3 a week now!) and I let the world come slowly back into focus. And here I am.
So, yes, I can say it. "Forty, Forty, Forty!" Its a bloody big number, but it is just a number, and in the context of life here, not something to complain about at all. And hey, I'm 40, this year I've made a dream come true, and even in the 2 months that I've been away, I've seen, done, thought and experienced things that I'll never forget or regret. And I'm never going to forget this birthday!
I've missed you all especially this week, and it really has been truly lovely to get all your messages. Thank you again. I will respond individually, but maybe not until the weekend. And I'll put a couple of pictures from yesterday on here as well.
Keep in touch.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
10.02.07 A Productive Week
This week has been fantastic. I suppose this is Newsflash #2 of the week - I can teach, and I love it!
I get to school just before 7 in the morning. Class starts at 7. Miss M - no George, it is not me! - turned up on Weds morning and announced out of the blue she would be leaving at 8 hours (the local alternative to "o'clock") and wouldn't be back. She kindly left me her lesson prep for English, Maths and Science and disappeared at 7.45. I did have a few minutes of "oh gawd, what am I doing?" but then, in true Mendelsohn style, just got on with it. I LOVED IT!!! The kids were great, they all seem to understand my accent as long as I speak reasonably slowly - which I do anyway (people here finish my sentences too, its soooo annoying) - and it was such a productive morning. When they do exercises normally, Miss M writes them on the board and then goes out of the room. I walk round the classroom, checking what the kids are doing and making sure they answer the questions. A good half of the class only managed to copy the questions, and didn't understand what they are supposed to do. Well, they know now.
On Thursday, Miss M came over to me as class started at 7 and said she was leaving for the whole day as she had to go on a training course. Bye. Again, at least she left me with her workbooks, and away I went. I had the whole class to myself for 5 hours, and again, it was fabulous. I was doing long multiplication with them, and at first I forgot how to do it, but it soon came back. When I marked their work, I did check my answers were the same as Stephen's (the brightest kid), which fortunately they were. All of the Grade 6 teachers were on the same course, and one of the other volunteers was struggling a little with her class, so after break I went in and stamped my authority - well, shouted quite loudly at them for a good few minutes. That was on Thursday and they were quiet as mice for the rest of the morning and all Friday. Hee hee - I'm so mean!
By the time Friday morning came, I was ready to chuck Miss M out and get on with it myself, but we did quite a good double act. The only lesson I don't contribute to is the local language lesson, for obvious reasons, although they make me say some words and then laugh at my pronunciation. I made them learn to say my surname in revenge.
We did art again on Friday. This time I let them loose with the glitter. Most of them had not seen glitter before and some of the kids ended up covered in the stuff. I wonder what their parents thought when they went home. I have to say, to Miss M's credit, we absolutely trashed the classroom. It was covered in glue, paper, glitter, and mucky kids. The transport truck turned up early so I didn't have time to clear up before leaving. When I walked out the door I apologised to her and she just shrugged, and said it was OK, that was what art is about. We are warming to each other!! I think it helped that I bought her a set of pens on Wednesday to defrost her a bit. I was really disappointed that we can't stick the glitter covered animals on the walls as the church visitors (I don't understand what they have to do with it, but take it that they can interfere) will make us take them down. Another stunning coup for Christianity in Africa. Sorry.
I have also asked her if I can do a remedial reading group as there is about 1/4 of the class that can hardly read, which is a huge handicap to them in every lesson. While I was covering the kids and classroom in glitter and glue, she streamed the kids and now every Tuesday and Friday we are going to split the class, and I will take about 1/3 of them in a reading group. I'm teaching reading at the orphanage using phonics based materials, so I'm quite comfortable in doing it in the morning as well. It is a huge opportunity to really make a difference to these kids. I've also picked out a couple who can't really write and will keep them in for a few break times to practice writing.
Out of the 55 kids in my class, I have about 45 names programmed into my brain, and the rest are nearly there. There are some fantastic wee characters and as they are getting more used to me and my teaching style we are having fun. We practiced times tables the other day. Lots of the boys don't answer the questions so I took in a tennis ball, and threw it at the person who answered the first question correctly. After someone had answered the next question, I asked the person with the ball if they thought it was right, and if they did to throw the ball to the child who had just answered. That made all the boys pay attention and want to take part. I also did a quiz - they wanted boys v girls. The boys won by a big margin, so even though the girls take part more and there are more of them there is a significant number who are not engaged or are so far behind that they might as well not be there.
Talking of breaks, I practically have to push some of the kids out of the door at break time. They are so keen they want to carry on working, but I make them go out and run around to get some fresh air. I also need a few minutes break and some air, but some of them are so dead set on carrying on working that they won't budge.
By the time Friday evening arrived I was totally exhausted. I love being with the kids, but it does take a lot of mental and physical energy. I'd spent Thursday and Friday afternoons at the orphanage doing the reading club. It rained on Friday and it is quite bizarre to be inside and be rained on - the roof leaks terribly. There were some visitors from the organisation that runs the local feeding programme out of the community school, which is attached to the orphanage. They give the food to families that have girls at the school to encourage the education of girls. Is it good?
Anyway, I'm going to chill this weekend - I need to, I wake up in the mornings doing lessons in my head! I've had a coffee at Wonderbake this morning - a local cafe/bakery, and we'll head off to the hotel to lie in the non-existent sun in half an hour or so. Tonight we are going to the only seafood restaurant in town. Amazingly, to me at least, it is possible to get fed up of veggies and rice. I buy tins of tuna as well, but haven't succumbed to eating mammals. There are 2 lapsed veggies in the group - it is hard not being in control of what you are eating.
That's all for now. Keep emailing.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
06.02.07 Newsflash from Livingstone



Wednesday, January 31, 2007
New Faster Internet Cafe
Monday, January 29, 2007
29.01.07 The 48 hour tourist
On Saturday I decided to have a massage at the Royal Livingstone hotel - partly as my back has been a bit stiff (I'm fine) and also as a wee treat. The Royal Livingstone is something else, and by far the nicest hotel here. After I checked in at the salon reception, my massuese, Bridget, walked me through the gardens away from the centre of the hotel. We walked about 100m; in the gardens there were vervet monkeys - silver coloured with bright blue testicles, and babboons, with zebras grazing around the edge. We came to a white small marquee type tent and walked around the outside to the edge of the river. The tent had 3 sides, and a view over the Zambezi and the edge of Mosi oi Tunya. I had to take a photo, mostly so I could take the time to stop and look. I've tried about a dozen times to upload it onto the blog but you'll just have to use your imagination as its not working. I think it is a view I will never have enough of.
The massage was good - you know how sometimes you worry that you are just going to be uselessly stroked, but it wasn't like that at all. As I was lying there, I could hear thunder grumbling away in the background. After a few minutes there was a huge cracking explosion of a thunder clap right over our heads and the rain came down fast and hard. I so love that smell of wet red earth, and I thought how perfect it would be if a hippo or 2 could magically appear, just to complete the story. I swear almost the instant I had the thought I heard a hippo grunt. I lay there and smiled - it seemed too good to be true, although I think Bridget was wondering what I was smiling at! After the massage ended I sat for a moment or 2 just looking out at the river and the falls but I couldn't see the hippos. I wondered if when I blogged this (I am reliably advised by Martin that it is usable as a verb) I should just pretend that I actually saw the hippos to make a better story, but as I was about to head back and find my friends I saw them rise out of the water and do a classic hippo yawn. I could only stand and watch and try to take it all in, so no photo. Yet another surreal Africa moment, but very different from the others.
The rest of the weekend was quite quiet. At the new house we have a pool, so we chilled there during the day and went for drinks in the evening. So far this week I've been back at the college in the morning and reading at the orphanage in the afternoon. I really like the students at the college, but the so called course leader has done diddly squat work-wise since I've been there, so I've had to tell him yet again I'm not here as his teacher but unqualified assistant. It falls on deaf ears and today he asked me again for money. It turns out that most of the students are not former prostitutes but fee paying individuals with only one or 2 from difficult circumstances who don't pay. Now that the community thinks there is a mzungu teacher there are more students, so they are making more money, but still refuse to buy any course materials or do any work. At the end of the week I'm going to assess with our project co-ordinator whether I should stay there or go back to work at one of the schools and I suspect it will be the latter. The students clearly have figured something is up as today several of them asked me for my contact details. It is, I suppose, not an unusual African experience - things are not what they seem and I'm sure the person who initially got the volunteers involved in this project will be as frustrated as the rest of us when he finds out what's going on.
As well as the project, I also enjoy my daily chats as I wait to be picked up outside Maramba clinic where some of the other volunteers work. There are 2 local guys - Brave and Norman - who also volunteer at the clinic, who usually stop by when they know we are there waiting for the truck to pick us up. Norman is great - he gives me a running commentary on all the people passing by - this one is a shebeen queen and a prostitute, that man hurt himself falling over after drinking too much "illicity" (Norman's word for the illegal brew they make in the villages that is 95% proof), another man is taking firewood up to the shebeen as its used for the illegal brewing. The government and local authorities turn a blind eye to all of this as they don't want to lose the votes of the villagers, but it seems to be a major social problem.
But some things never change - I'm now off to Spar to get some cat food.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
25.01.07 Cooking and Reading


Since last week so much has happened. I suspect this will not be a short one, so minimise the window and go and make a cup of tea or print it out for reading on the bus. Its quite therapeutic really - for me anyway!
News #1 is that I have moved into a different volunteer house. Its only about half a mile away from the old one, but its much nicer - an old 1920's colonial house with original teakwood floors, large grounds with a pool, and a lovely verandah to sit on in the evenings. The downside is that there are more mozzies and the floors creak so badly you can't move around quietly in the morning when you get up. The address is c/o Greg Bows, 50 Maambo Way, Livingstone, Zambia. Letters take 3 weeks; some parcels make it, some don't.
Project work has been going well. I'm still teaching at the Tourism College in the mornings. On Thursday 16th, I did a session on HIV awareness, as it has to be done as part of the government edict which ratifies the college. I felt a bit of a fraud really, as if you think about the statistics (as are believed on the ground) 3/4 of my class will already be infected with HIV (local views are 70% infection rate, rather than the 30 - 40% WHO statistics). Given the previous profession of some of them, it may even be higher. They had, of course, heard it all before, but the real issues are cultural. Men won't wear condoms, voodoo medicine men (yes, really) still say that you can cure it by having sex with a virgin - oh, and these are the same medicine men that do tattoos on several people using the same needles and razor blades on multiple people, and it is still thought of as better not to know your status than to risk social isolation of being known to be HIV positive. So, it was pretty awful standing up there and giving this talk.
On Friday morning we had a lot of fun. It was a cookery lesson effectively and this is what the two photos show. We'd been talking about the different things that us odd white people eat for breakfast, so I bought them a Kellog's multipack of cereal, some bread and peanut butter and lots of eggs, and they tried all the cereals, had toast for the first time, and made fried, poached and scrambled eggs, omelette and french toast. The cooking was done on a charcoal brazier - a first for me! They liked best the toxic coloured Strawberry Pops, but at first when they were mixing them with milk, they didn't understand why it wouldn't go into porridge, until I explained that it was meant to stay in little pieces. We then ate everything at the end, and they all liked the french toast. I had a few strange questions - like do we make the bread into toast for hygiene reasons, but it went really well and was good fun. You'll notice the posters for hair products in the background - our rooms are used as a hair salon in the afternoons to help pay the rent.
I have had quite a few "how on earth did I end up doing this?" moments, especially during the cookery lesson. It has seemed quite surreal at times, and given that I'm making it all up as I go along, it is even more strange. The so called course leader does very little organising, the syllabus is a few paragraphs from a City & Guilds text book on catering services (our course is to last 6 months) and there is no planning. It is a bit frustrating, and combined with the habit of saying what it is they think you want to hear, rather than what the true situation is, but the reality of the situation, as it is with most of the projects, is that whatever the volunteers can do is better than nothing and better than what there might have been otherwise, which is mostly nothing. In some ways, I feel that the expectation is so high, even if only in my own mind, that it is hard to know where to go, but again, the reality is that whatever I'm doing seems to be going down really well. So, I'll just have to keep doing what I'm doing, and keep my fingers crossed.
Yesterday I went back to the orphanage for the first time in ages. The volunteers have set up a reading club in the afternoon and I spent about 2 hours between 4 or 5 kids doing one on one reading sessions. I think that half an hour of individual attention is worth more than a whole day in school for some kids and its very rewarding. We are very short of basic books, so when I'm finished here, I'm going next door to the book shop to get a couple more. It is quite chaotic though as while you are trying to do reading lessons, there are 30 other kids running round screaming, but hey - kids are kids. I'll take my camera to the orphanage soon, but it will cause some degree of chaos so I'm steeling myself for this. Good chaos - in that all the kids will want their photos taken, and look at themselves on the LCD, but chaos nonetheless.
On Monday, I met with the head of the Zambian Human Rights Commission in Livingstone as I was interested to find out what they do. The office only opened 4 months ago, and is currently one woman, her assistant/driver and a cleaner. I met them all! Mabel - the investigator - described to me how local tribal law (there are 72 tribes in Zambia - I can say good morning in 4 of the languages so far) works within the overall legal system. It is now defined in statute what the powers of the chiefs are, but in reality, their power is still enormous. They control allocation of land within their tribal area, and she has one case of a family that was removed from their land at the instruction of the chief so it could be given to a member of his family. For a government organisation, especially one lead by a woman, to challenge this authority is very radical. I'll let you know if there are any developments.
More good news is that the weather is significantly cooler than it has been. There have been some unbelievable storms - I have never seen or heard rain like last night's, but generally it has been 5 - 10 degrees cooler and we are not wilting so badly.
I was worried after the last blog entry that I was focussing on the negative aspects of life here, and again some of the above might seem negative. It is hard not to get frustrated - so much needs to be done to provide even basic health care and education, but Zambia, and the rest of Africa is going to go at its own pace, irrespective of what outsiders want. It is just on a macro level the same issue I experience in my college, in the hospital and everywhere. The way we live life in the UK is not necessarily good and this isn't necessarily bad - I can only observe that it is a fairly major clash of cultures. Mostly it is manageable - but in the hospital, I struggled. One very good thing I've come across is that there are a lot of local volunteers - people who have given up jobs to focus on AIDS awareness education in target communities, or in my college, taking prostitutes off the streets. Although there is a huge amount of work to be done, the fact that there are individuals in the community who are leading the way is crucial to making progress. Most Zambians are incredibly friendly, open and interested and happy to have the volunteers in the community, and it feels a reasonably safe place to be. We don't walk around at night at all, but as taxis are so cheap and we have regular taxi drivers that we use, its safe to go out as well.
All in all, I'm well, happy, settled, and hopefully making a little bit of a difference to some people.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007




The photos are as follows (not in a sensible order): some kids who were watching the AIDS awareness presentation, me working on the farm, the AIDS presentation, given by Brave - the chap in the blue shirt, who is a local volunteer at one of the clinics we work at (not me), the front of the "college" where I work every morning. It is a programme for "rehabilitating" adults who have poor prospects - they were prostitutes or are disabled or were orphaned and didn't finish school. Then there is my first sunset over the Zambezi river taken on the deck of the Waterfront Hotel.Monday, January 15, 2007
15.01.07 The African Way
I've been here just over a week now, and in some ways it seems longer. I'm excited about being able to get stuck into project work now and I have lots of ideas buzzing round my heat-addled brain. It has been so so hot that we have struggled for the last couple of days, and the Doxy (anti malarial) is making me quite sun sensitive, but hopefully that will settle down.
Last week's new volunteers, including me, went to the game park on Thursday. It was interesting but we only saw zebra and giraffe and the McDonalds of the bush here - impala (fast food for lions). Very tame after the Serengeti. The visit to the local village was interesting - more than I thought it would be as our driver from the project is part of the "royal family" of this tribe and he took us there. The village of 7000 people has 4 water taps which were installed by the UN 10 years ago. Before that the women had to walk 8km for water. The traditional houses are round with thatched roofs - the round walls mean that there are no hiding places for snakes and the thatch is cool in summer and warm in winter. The new fashion is now for square houses with tin roofs, so the incidents of snake bites have increased and the houses are stifling in summer and cold in winter. Hey - that's fashion for you. I will add a couple of photos to this post in the next day or so as I've just found out I can.
On Friday I taught a Grade 2 class in the morning - yes taught. I sat in with the teacher for a while and then she asked me to take the English lesson. It was a bit daunting to be honest - 40 or so 8 year old faces looking at me, part expectant, part puzzled. We all got through it successfully and they now have a grasp of the letter "T". The rubber hose was on the table but thankfully was not used. I'm not sure I could bear to see such small children (and they are small) being hit with this. I set them a wee test and walked round while they did it. One child, called Gift, wasn't writing. When I asked him why he said he didn't have a pencil. Another wee girl called Martha was writing with a pencil that had fallen apart so she was holding the bits together while she did the spelling test. Those that did have pencils were sharpening them with double sided razor blades, but they seem quite adept at this. The kids are sweet and enthusiastic and most of them do try so hard. They wear school uniforms at least 3 sizes too big for them so that they grow into them, or they are quite raggy as they are wearing hand me downs. Some of them are well fed and bright, but in the class of 40, I would say there were 3 or 4 of those. The first class lasted from 7am to 10.15, and then the second group come in at 10.15. The same happens in the afternoon, so each child only gets about 2 - 3 hours of schooling a day.
I spent Friday afternoon back at the farm. We were watering the pepper plants and I ended up being covered in mud. There is probably a bit of a clash of cultures going on at this project as when we arrive they all go and sit in the shade and watch us work, which is a bit annoying as the whole idea is that we supplement their resource. It was boiling on Friday and I wasn't too happy about this so we knocked off half an hour early. We had to anyway as the hose being used to bring the water up from the river kept on falling apart. No croc sightings.
I was back at the farm today, and I think they must have sensed something as there was about six people working with us. We were watering okra plants - they are tall and have scratchy leaves - and then cleared some more ground for planting. I'm going back tomorrow I think, but I haven't been to the orphanage for quite a few days now so I took the braids out as they were falling apart. I'm thinking about dreds......
Anyway, this morning was really interesting. I started work at the Livingstone College of Tourism Studies. This is a 6 month programme to teach prostitutes and others who have very poor prospects the skills necessary to work in the hotel industry. More hotels are being built here so there will be jobs coming. My class was 13 people - 10 women and 3 men - aged from 17 to 27. We have a room which is about 1.5m by 3m to sit in with 2 rickety benches and one desk, a very rough blackboard and bare breeze block walls. They looked quite surprised to see me and were not quite sure what to expect - to be honest neither was I. We did a 'break the ice' session which lasted about an hour and then I talked with them about oh, anything and everything. I talked for about an hour with the project leader - a lovely man called David, and the chap who is going to teach them computer skills - Innocent. I kept on asking what he wanted me to teach them, but apart from HIV awareness and personal hygiene, he had nothing specific in mind. So here are my ideas - we are going to have a topic of the week and every Wednesday we will have a discussion group. This is to get them used to talking to foreigners and making small talk and for them to learn a bit about diffent cultures. I am going to teach them to touch type. This evening I'm going to create a picture of the QWERTY keyboard, get it laminated and then give each person one so that they can practice typing exercises at home; there is only one PC at the project and it is not reliable. I'm going to talk to them about food and food hygiene - in fact this week's topic is food and this morning we discussed what they eat and what we eat (don't go there right now). I am going to teach them how to boil, scramble, poach and fry eggs!! And on Saturday we are going to visit a local hotel so that we can see how its done. There will be lots of role play! I want to make it interesting and fun but mostly I want to give them enough confidence and skills to get a job! We also need to look at the internet. They don't know what it is. One girl said "its just a word". I am looking forward to getting to know this group and building a relationship with each of them.
I miss the schools though and I don't want to leave that behind, so I'm thinking of maybe one morning a week to swap with one of the other teachers. We'll have to work out resources as the week progresses, but the plan is that I'll run the tourism course and try to set out a timetable for them.
I think what has concerned me most about all the teaching experiences so far is that there is no attempt to develop in pupils an ability to think. The children don't know how to work out the answers to questions and they are not told. If they can work it out themselves, they will progress. If they can't, they won't. Even the adults in my class today didn't know how to work out answers to questions. When I arrived this morning they were copying recipes from 'Microwave Cooking' to try to understand what we eat. I wonder what they really think! Having said all that, I am getting more into 'the African way'. Things are not going to go as I would like, certainly not as quickly as I would hope, and in this heat I am much more accepting of that. Having said that, the people are generally very open and nice to deal with, and are positive about what we can do. Everyone keeps saying that anything is better than what there was before so it almost doesn't matter what it is.
Day to day life is structured during the week - we all start work between 7 and 8, come back for a break at lunch time to sit out the heat and then work again between 3 and 5. There is much going out, but I'm trying to be careful budget wise as so far I've spent more than I thought I would. We also have to iron everything - I mean everything - as there is a type of fly that lays eggs in warm wet clothes and then the larvae burrow into your skin and, well, the rest is too gross to describe. Some people have become complacent about this, but one girl here has got this and she now has to wait until the inevitable happens. Alien#4 - yeuch.
At the weekend we snuck into one of the nice hotels here and lay by the pool. When I first got here and heard the other volunteers say they did this I was a bit sceptical, but the week's work is quite hard and emotionally demanding, and we all need the down time. On Saturday evening we had a cruise on the Zambezi and saw 3 elephants swimming across the river. It was an incredible sight, but I didn't have my camera with me. On Sunday we went to the amazing Royal Livingstone hotel and watched the sun go down on the river. See Nicky P - I am taking your advice!
Right, I know this is long enough already, and I need a shower and dinner (please no more pasta, I hate the stuff). I can't help it - I type quickly and there is so much to say. I feel like I've covered only half of it. All good things etc.
Love to you all.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
First Impressions
Today was my first day of a full day's work; this morning I was assisting in a Grade 6 class at the one of the local junior schools and this afternoon I was working at a local farm. More of both of those later.
Getting here was fine, not much to record of note save that I dropped and thought I'd broken my iPod. My flight from Heathrow to Jo'burg was particularly comfy. I told the woman sitting next to me about my fainting episode on my last long haul flight which got me an upgrade. About half an hour later the cabin steward came to get her stuff as apparently she'd fainted too!! Anyway, I got all 3 seats to myself and managed to sleep.
The volunteer house is probably what you'd expect from somewhere in the heat which has had too many students living in it, but its tolerable. There are 3 ginger cats, and there was a dog, but he's gone back home to Zim. My roomie is a girl called Joyce, who's Dutch, and a lawyer thinking of a change of direction - yes really! We get on brilliantly and have a scary amount in common. She's only here for another two weeks on the projects but she's staying in Livingstone for a few more weeks. The rest of them seem like a good bunch, especially 3 girls who arrived on Monday. There is only one that I couldn't see far enough, so that's not bad out of a dozen or so. We're set up in 2 houses so there is much to-ing and fro-ing, particularly at meal times. Which brings me to food. So far I've eaten cornflakes, pasta and mangoes. The mangoes grow everywhere, there are about 10 trees in the garden so when we need some more we ask the gardener or go and get them ourselves. They're fab, but not pretty to eat.
On Monday I went to the orphanage for the first time. Its hard to know where to start. They are having to rebuild parts of it as the roof of the living area (which is about my living room x1 1/2 - or maybe one of the S+W boardrooms x2) for 20 boys so classes haven't started yet this term as the boys are now living in the classrooms. About 230 children come to the school for lessons as it is not a fee-paying school and they don't have to have a uniform. When classes start we only teach in the morning and the afternoon is spent on general play time with them. Yesterday I got them to write their names and numbers on the blackboard but as we only had an inch of chalk it didn't last long. I wish I'd brought out some of the stuff that I've sent, but at least I know how badly it is needed. When we ran out of chalk the kids wanted to braid my hair. Most mzungu (white person) hair is too thin, but mine was great to do.
There is not really much for the children to do, so we organise games, play sports, read and just talk to them. The older boys know about football, I've even found an Arsenal fan! Some previous volunteers have gone in with loads of presents, so some of the kids are a bit grasping, but its not their fault. When my stuff arrives, I'm going to make sure it goes to the schools for use, rather than be grabbed by individual children. That just ends in mayhem.
This morning I went to my first class proper as a teaching assistant, this time at a governnment school that the project also works with. When I got there, my first thought was that compared to the community school the kids looked well and it seemed organised, and that I'd probably choose to work at the community school as the need was greatest there. The next few hours were in a way quite shocking. It was a grade 6 class, which should be for 12 year olds, but there were some kids who had been held back a few years, so went up to 15. There were about 50 kids in the class, with one teacher - which is of course why they need teaching assistants - and when we joined they were reading a story and then had to answer questions on the story. At the end of this exercise, those kids that had not answered a question or read a paragraph were hit hard on the hand with a piece of what looked like hard rubber hose pipe. It clearly hurt a lot. It was about half the class. The teacher made the sing (in local language so I didn't understand what it was about) while she went around the room belting the kids. It was horrible. What it comes down to is that some of these kids can't read and so can't do the work, and for that they are always going to get hit. They were told to go away and learn to read to avoid being hit in the next class. No, I don't know how either, but we are thinking of setting up reading classes. The kids only get half a day's schooling as there are so many children and not enough resources, so we could do classes for when each set of children is not in a formal class.
It was awful to sit and watch this, but we are given strict instructions not to interfere and I understand the logic. We can't change the culture in an individual classroom and we are there to help the kids learn to read so that they can get past this. They were so eager to learn and talk to me. I marked their work from a science class and after I handed back the corrected books, they all re-did the work using the corrections and handed it back in. After that there was a home-economics class which was quite surreal. The teacher set a revision test so I wasn't allowed to help which was just as well as I didn't know the answers. "What are the 3 types of food? Body building, energy and protective!" You can see the logic.
What was quite worrying though is that many of the children seemed to have no idea of how to answer questions - I spent most of my time showing them how to go back to the text and look for the answers. Here they learn by rote, and are not shown how. If they are not bright enough to pick it up (and about a dozen were) then they are left behind.
The second class was interrupted by the deputy head asking the teacher to hand out leaflets. I'll quote from it later as I left it at home, but it was from an evangelical Christian organisation based in Louisiana, promising eternal damnation if you didn't do something totally pointless. It was truly nauseating.
I found all that quite hard to take in the morning so this afternoon I wanted to do something different. I went to work on a local farm which is run by local women volunteers. They raise chickens and grow crops to raise money to fund a home visiting project, going out to the villages and helping where there are terminally ill family members. They try to educate the villagers on preventing the spread of AIDS but until only a few weeks ago they didn't realise it was transmitted by sexual contact. There are a lot of billboards talking about AIDS prevention and encouraging condom use, but it seems there is a long way to go. I also had a look at the health clinics that the project supports and they are busy! I suppose that is a good thing. It was pretty hot today, so hoe-ing and raking in 30 degrees was interspersed with much rest and chat. Yes - my back is ok - I was careful.
Anyway, tomorrow we have a frolic to a game park and a local village as part of getting to know the area, and on Friday I'll be back at the school and orphanage. There is a new project starting up trying to re-educate prostitutes and give them the skills to get jobs in the hotel industry, which is growing here, and I've said I'd like to be involved in that, as its a start up venture and I do believe empowering (sorry!) women is so important in order to achieve real change. I'll let you know what happens, but I'm really keen on taking that forward.
Livingstone itself is one long street in the centre with other roads going off at right angles. There is a Spar supermarket, which is just next to where I am now and it sells about everything you could think of as necessary and a lot that isn't. I haven't explored town much yet but plan to at the weekend. Its been so hot that when we are between projects at lunchtime I've just gone back to the house to hide in the shade. I don't know why, but I didn't think it would be quite as hot as it is. I definitely need another pair of shorts (and not half the crap I have with me).
Anyway, its happy hour at the bar near the internet cafe, so I'm going to head off now so that I have time for a cocktail. Yesterday we had drinks on the Zambezi watching the sunset.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
4 Days and Counting

Things I am sure of - I have more music on my iPod than I'll ever listen to (nearly 8GB now!); the cats will learn to love their new meal provider; I won't run out of lip balm; I have some amazing friends who've been lovely beyond words; the windows in my flat need a good clean; I won't have time to clean the windows in my flat before I go; I can't live off wholemeal pitta bread, Philadephia and aduki beans for a week; that I'll miss my family hugely, notwithstanding the rogues gallery photo album I'm taking with me; I will remember to take my vitamin pills every day, as its one tiny thing less to carry; I've no regrets.
Things I'm not sure of - whether the pile of stuff on the floor will really fit into my bag; whether buying compilation and "best of" albums is a valid way of listening to great music; what the buttons on top of my camera do; at what age the lion cubs start looking at you as if you are dinner; should I have walked my boots in more; whether I really need my book of poetry (but it came with me all the way round Asia, I can't leave it now); whether I should have read the lonely planet travel health book about African diseases, especially the bit about the creatures that burrow into your feet and come out your nose or somewhere equally distressing; where I'll be this time next year.

