Mwanaombe

Friday, 12/14/12

Our last day in Ndola really snuck up on me-- it seems like we just got here yesterday! To wrap up our trip, we were scheduled to visit Mwanaombe, a calm village of only 30 families.

It was a 2 hour drive to the village, which is kind of close to Kanyenda. It seems like the roads have gotten worse every day, because the road to Mwanaombe was by far the worst yet. It started out as asphalt, then gradually became dirt, and got narrower and narrower until we were straddling a foot-wide trail, before that too vanished and we were left with what I can only describe as a game trail-- wadded down grass wherever there were no trees in the way. We passed a stump that Djondoh calls "Fighting Illini" because the truck had gotten stuck atop it one time while carrying enumerators working for the U of I.

When we finally navigated our way to the village, we were welcomed by 20 or 30 smiling faces, and a LOT of biting ants. We had to relocate out meeting spot about three times due to ants crawling up our legs.
We went through the normal introductions, but this time Dad had the hard questions: "Why only two kids?" His interviewer couldn't believe that Dd didn't have any kids from previous marriages.

Printing pictures went quickly, and since we hard left over paper and ink we gave out group pictures as well of the whole village and groups of friends. While they waited for the printer to work its magic, one man taught Dad and Tim the local version of mancala, using holes in the ground and berries for a board and gamepieces.

Eventually we headed back to Ndola, following another inspirational speech by Djondoh. I decided to join Tim in the pick-up bed, so we took turns testing our balance, all the while waving to everyone we passed. People would always wave back enthusiastically at the sight of us, but my favorite instance was the woman who dropped the bucket she was holding in her haste to wave. We stopped briefly by a peanut field so I could flirt with death. A few minutes later it started to drizzle and I got back inside, but Tim stayed out. Bad move.  A downpour commenced, and he was soaked to the bone by the time he got inside the car. The ride back was also highlighted by a D-Rose jersey spotting. I never did see the "OKC Thunder--2012 NBA Champs" shirt I was looking for, but oh well.

At 6:30 we went to Djondoh's house for a barbeque. We met his wife and two sons, as well as some nieces and nephews. Tim and I spent most of the evening swinging the kids around, but I also took some time to talk to Djondoh and enjoy my chicken, corn, and mshima. Tim and I didn't want to leave Zambia without trying the local caterpillars, so Marina (the wife) gave us some of her stash to sample. They were extremely dry, surprisingly crunchy, and quite average-tasting.

The road to Mwanaombe.

The villagers who showed up for pictures!

I refused to be intimidated by the peanut fields. Not many people can say they looked Death in the eyes and emerged unscathed.

Caterpillars!

Djondoh's the one on the ground next to me.

Kamisenga

Thursday, 12/13/12

 

If I had to pick a favorite village thus far, it would probably be Kamisenga. Whether that's because the people are nicer or the photo-taking went really smoothly remains a mystery, but I'll go with a combination of the two for now.

The day started off right, and by that I mean at 10:00 instead of the usual 0800 wakeup call. Djondoh was running late again, but Dad ran into one of the old enumerators, Malambo, so we got to meet him instead of being bored. Djondoh turned up just as Malambo was leaving, and we set off for the village. I know I said Kanyenda's road was bad, but Kamisenga's makes it look like Lakeshore Drive. It was more pothole/puddle than road, and we found ourselves a foot deep in water at times. 

From the first second we docked at Kamisenga, I knew I'd like it there. The singing that greeted us was amazing! Every other village had been home to nice voices, but this was a level above. This time, Djondoh added a twist when he introduced us. He asked some women to come forward and interview us. Dad had already introduced himself, so I was up first. I got all easy questions (where are you from, what do you do, etc), and Tim's were very similar, but Mom had a mush harder challenge. She and a Kamisengan woman were told to have a conversation about marriage and courtship customs in Zambia and America. Ten minutes later, I was a lo more knowledgeable about bride-prices, go-betweens, and chitenge-covered kwacha. 

When Tim finished taking all the pictures, he decided to play with the younger kids there. Children had been scarce at the other villages, so he harnesed his inner 10 year old with gusto, racing and carrying the young Kamisengans who had taken to following him around like a neo-Pied Piper.  When they led him over to the road for races it attracted an even bigger crowd, joined by some older men and women wanting to get in on the fun! 

We had by far the most pictures to print out (90) but still managed to finish relatively quickly, thanks to our diligent helpers. One of them, Isaac, looked like Mr. Omar from "Everybody Hates Chris"-- decked out a white suit, pink shirt, and black tie.

We wrapped up the printing around 4:30, but Djondoh was engaged in a discussion about how to properly feed dairy cows, so we waited another hour while he convinced the villagers not to graze them. For part of the time, I joined Tim with the kids, but eventually freed myself and went back to hear Djondoh wrap up the meeting.

We were again given a meal of chicken and rice, and I'm again alive, so all's well. It was delicious.

Tim always likes to ride in the back of the pick-up when we go along dirt roads, since it's illegal back home. We often given one of two villagers a ride as well, but this time Tim was joined by 9 people, a bike, and some plants. When the dust settled, he could barely move. The best part was when the women next to him all started singing and laughing raucously, while he and the other guys sat in silence. Eventually the truck cleared out, and Tim was no longer a member of, as Mom and Dad called it, the "Party Pickup."

Interesting Side Note:

We tried another new fruit today! Djondoh saw some "yunga" growing by the side of the road, so he stopped and got us some. It tastes a lot like an apple, but smaller and with a pit.

The kids here loved the camera, and ninja poses were popular among both boys and girls. It looks like Tim's swinging someone in the background

I couldn't move from this position for a few hours, since the bench wobbled and the printer would mess up if it moved at all. 

Kanyenda

Wednesday, 12/12/12

Today was a chaotic blend of boredom and hectic frenzy. First: hectic frenzy. I woke up to discover that we were out of milk, so I had to walk into the restaurant with my cereal box and ask for a bowl of milk. On the way there, I passes the ugliest turkey I've ever seen.

Apres le petit dejeuner came my first bout with boredom. Djondoh had planned to pick us up at 8:30, but had an unexpected meeting and couldn't come until 11:00. It took about 75 minutes to get to Kanyenda, and the terrible road slowed us down a lot. It was partially washed away by rain, and a very bumpy ride. When we finally arrived-- 3 hours late-- there were only 30 or 40 of the 120 families present; the others were planting while the ground was wet. Djondoh was very familiar with Kanyenda, so he introduced us casually ("So, Ezra, tell them about yourself! How many wives do you have?") When Dad was introduced, he was greeted by cheers and applause. When he had visited Kanyenda in November, he'd created a bit of a legend by playing soccer, netball, and British Bulldogs with abandon, all the while sporting his Indiana Jones-esque hat. When he put on another of his hats (he'd given away the original to a villager last time) the cheers doubled.

We got right to work, aided by Francis (the best interpreter yet) and a couple others. Inevitably, after a few minutes, the scene descended into chaos. EVERYONE wanted a picture with me or Tim. Not to print out-- we didn't have enough paper-- just for fun. We interrupted our card-preparing to oblige the horde of smiling Kanyendans, and within five minutes Djondoh's camera had about 100 new pictures on it. We eventually pried ourselves free, but by that point we had no idea who'd gotten a picture already and who still needed theirs. While Djondoh spoke on forgiveness and cooperation, we hastily distributed the remaining cards and took pictures for those who arrived late from the fields.In the end, it was actually much easier than expected--only 50 familes turned up by the time we left. It started to rain again, so Djondoh continued to preach about friendship and helping out the Heifer enumerators who will visit again in February.

Once we established that the rain wasn't going to slow up anytime soon, a few villagers made little speeches thanking us for visiting and praising Djondoh's message. When it came time for a closing prayer, Djondoh asked for someone from the village to deliver one, just like he had in the previous two villages. An awkward silence followed his gaze around the room, until one woman piped up: "How about Ezra or Tim?"

Terror.

Tim seemed to be having a similar reaction, so I stepped up awkwardly. Now, I hadn't delivered a public prayer since the high schoolers taught Sunday School a few years ago-- and those 3rd graders were a pretty easy audience. I went on about Kanyenda's hospitality for a while and was preparing to address Djondoh's topics of forgiveness and friendship (previous prayers had been very long-winded and I wanted to do them justice) when I had a revelation: only about 5 people there could understand me! I quickly wrapped it up, and was met by an overwhelming ovation-- questionable post-prayer protocol, but I think they were appreciating the honor I did them by praying there.

Interesting Side Note:
Dad had lost his favorite hat as part of a gift exchange in November, so Mom was perpetually worried that she'd be caught without anything to give in case something similar happened to her. Despite our reassurances, a woman offered Mom a pair of wooden spoons (so she could show people back home "how an African woman cooks"). The woman seemed very pleased with the extra picture she took with Mom,, so any potential gift-awkwardness was avoided.

Kaunga

Tuesday, 12/11/12:

Today Djondoh took us about 45 minutes away to the village of Kaunga, which had 60 or so families. He'd warned us that the villagers were 7th Day Adventists, so things might be different from Chembe, but the only differences I noticed were unrelated to religion For a start, Kaungans really loved to sing! In Chembe there had been a few songs, but here it seemed like each silence was taken as a song request. It got to the point where Djondoh had to interrupt the songs in order to finish before it got too late. To introduce Mom and Dad, he found the oldest married couple in the room. After a brief sermon on being responsible about marriage (apparently a lot of young people get divorced here) he asked the couple what their secret was. "Obedience," said the woman, "I listen to what he has to say." Her husband's answer was a bit different: "I ignore the irritating things she does. If she annoys me, I just leave the room."

We enlisted the local Community Organizer and Steven, a boy my age, to help us distribute photos, and got to work. It took about as long as Chembe, despite having more families to deal with. People wanted different types of pictures, but we managed to take them in a timely manner. Standing or sitting, in front of trees or a bike or car, in the bush or on the road or train tracks, the families all got what they wanted in the end. After wrapping up the printing, we hung around for a while more while Djondoh preached to the crowd. He wanted to take advantage of having them all gathered there, and touched on family, marriage, deforestation and alcoholism. He even inspired them to begin planning construction of a health clinic.

While he talked, Tim and I went outside to hang out with Steven and his friend Wisdom. They were curious about the US, and taught us some Bemba (which I promptly forgot). Eventually it started to drizzle, so we went back inside as more singing began.

It came time to go, so we each stood up one at a time to thank the villagers. I was first, and stood in the front while everyone sang happy birthday. Since I'm 18 today, one of the older men came forward to bless my ascent into manhood. With Djondoh translating, he said a few words: "May God bless you. May He bless your travels. Remember this day, because not many young Americans are blessed in Bemba under a thatched roof in Zambia." I managed to add to the applause by remembering how to say "thank you" in Bemba (natotela).

Much different from Chembe's meeting place, but I liked this more.

After introducing Tim and I, Djondoh liked to have us take a seat among the villagers. Find me!

Tim and Mom in action.

I had a healthy infatuation with the Zambian sky and scenery.

Singing and dancing and singing some more.

My journey into Zambia

Two weeks ago, we headed to the airport, destined for Zambia. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Dad's recent work, he's doing a survey of Zambian villages in the Heifer program to gauge its effectiveness over time. I spent many hours in front of a computer entering the data from these surveys, so he thought it would be nice to bring us to the villages and let me put faces to the numbers I've been working with for the last few months. In addition to being nice for the family to see another part of Africa, Dad was honoring the villagers by bringing his family thousands of miles to see them, away from the comfort of home. The plan was to thank the survey participants by taking their pictures, printing them out, and giving them a Christmas card with the picture inside. Since internet access in Zambia was hard to come across, I made journal entries each night to capture the highlights on that day. To avoid making a reallllllllllllly long post, I'm gonna post the entry from each day separately, and shorten them a little bit.

Monday, 12/10/2012:

Today was our first day in Zambia. We flew in from Jo'burg yesterday afternoon, but only had time for a brief walk around the area before it got dark.
The flight was pretty boring-- we'd woken up early, so I slept for most of the time. When we landed, the airport at Ndola gave me quite a shock. It was tiny! Three half-cylinder buildings, each about 60 feet long and 25 feet wide were all that made up Ndola International. It reminded me of the airport from The Rescuers Down Under. We took a taxi to the Kaps Villa and Lodge, where we are spending the week. Despite the name, it's a pretty rundown place-- doors that don't shut, broken lights, rickety chairs, and cracked walls-- but it keeps the mosquitoes out. When we first arrived, there was actually some question as to whether we'd all have a bed to sleep in at all. The receptionist couldn't find out reservation when we first checked in, but after a few minutes on searching, she realized she was looking at November 9, not December. It all worked out in the end, and everyone had a bed. I didn't get a mosquito net, but that's not a big deal indoors.

This morning we walked down the street to the local Heifer offices. We met our contacts there, Joyce and Djondoh (who had greeted us the night before and would be our guide this week), and hung out for a bit until everyone was ready to move on. I'm not sure what Mom and Tim did, but I workd my way through about six Kakuros.

After about 2 hours, Djondoh drove us to Chembe, about 100 minutes away from Ndola. Chembe was the first of the five villages we are visiting this week, as well as the smallest, with only 30 families. We were greeted by a parade of women and kids singing and shaking our hands one by one, and the led us into a town hall-type building. Djondoh introduced us in Bemba and found a guy to translate for our benefit. After leading the families in a call & response song, he introduced us-- stressing that we had come all the way from America to be there. First we met our peers-- he called up the married couples and teenagers to meet us first. When they discovered that my birthday is tomorrow, Djondoh led the village in a rendition of "Happy Birthday." He explained that we were there to thank them for helping Dad's work and Heifer by giving them photos and Christmas cards. Mike, the appointed translator, did well throughout-- only stumbling over "enumerators" and "Illinois."

We methodically took family pictures and printed them while Djondoh entertained those waiting. All in all, it was surprisingly smooth sailing for the first time. Some villagers were more photogenic than others, though. Our subjects ranged from the old couple who gazed into each other's eyes to the guy who used his daughter's head as an armrest, his fingers dangling in front of her face.

After we finished we were offered a small meal of fried chicken, rice, and pasta. I was bit worried that they'd use peanut oil (since peanuts are a main crop there) but 4 hours later I'm still healthy! I took too much pleasure in being able to eat with my fingers in front of Mom, since there was no silverware.

Interesting side note:
On the way to Chembe, Djondoh introduced us to a local fruit called Masuku. When asked to describe it, he could only come up with "yummy," which fit perfectly. I'd liken the fruit to genips, just less stringy and will four seeds.

Not the best picture, but it was the only one we have of Chembe's meeting place. It was the only  one that had cement-- all the other villages had thatched roofs and no walls.

The End of an Era

Friday the 7th was my last day in Mamelodi. It really snuck up on me, since we aren't going back to the States for another three weeks-- but in fact, only three or four of those days will be spent here in Pretoria. Unfortunately, my failure to acknowledge the end of my time at Viva made it hard for people to realize that I would not be seeing them again. A lot of people thought I was just leaving for summer vacation, so I had to explain many times that I would not be coming back in January.

Still, my last day was a lot of fun! There was another party, this time for the kids who go to Viva's day care. There was a barbecue and bounce-house (they call them "jumping-castles" here), and dozens of screaming kids. I spent the first hour or so carrying kids around on my shoulders, swinging them around, and standing still while they tried to climb up my body. This wasn't new-- after they got to know me, the 7-12 year old population of Alaska spent the past few months jumping on me and asking for shoulder-rides. Anyways, that was a lot of fun and I'm really gonna miss them; not only were they fun to be around, they gave me a nice workout whenever I lifted them up.

We'd brought a few Illini t-shirts/hats/etc to Pretoria with us to give away, so I took them in to give out to my friends. Since, all the shirts were larges, Aggie got the hat, which she said was great because her son had taken her old hat just a few days before. I gave shirts to Abie, Sipho, Lucky, Lucia, and Silisibu (no idea how to spell it), who proudly paraded around in their new garments. Since Bennett is really into basketball, I left him the ball that wasn't going to stay at Viva. I gave Fana my hat from Ford Motors hat that I'd gotten when the local Ford managers came in to donate a car.

We spent the next few hours playing a Parcheesi-esque game and taking pictures, before it came time for me to go. I had brought in the photo printer, so when Dad and Tim came to pick me up we printed off a picture of two for everyone there. After getting my goodbye hugs (or tackle, in Fana and Salminah's case) in, I left for good. If there's time, I'll try to visit again before heading back to the States, but most people are gone for Christmas, visiting family.

This "jumping castle" wasn't nearly as orderly as the ones on Family Day.

Some of the kids didn't realize I only had two arms. At one point, however, I had a kid in each arm, one on my back, and one hanging from my neck.

My favorites! Salminah and Fana. She even bought me a heart lollipop  <3

Lucia, Abie, and Sipho decked out in the new Illinois gear.

Showing off their shooting form. Illini Basketball!

Meleney and Jared posing.

Meleney again, this time with Leon.

The whole family! Until Friday, I had no idea Lucia was Fana and Salminah's sister.

Fana and his friend's "silly" picture.

I was kind of worried about giving Lucky a large t-shirt since he's about 5'4", but it fits him surprisingly well. He tucks his shirts in, anyway, so the size probably won't matter that much.

Last and DEFINITELY not least, Aggie (the Angel).

Peace, Quiet, and Lions Galore

Today was easily one of my favorite days so far, despite having to wake up at 6:15. After driving for about an hour, we arrived at Ukutula Lion Park around 7:45. Ukutula, meaning "Place of Quiet" in setswana, breeds lions and does research on their genetics, as well as conservation education. They have around 130 lions (many of them white-- one of their primary breeding interests), as well as nine cheetahs, two Bengal tigers, and several hyena.

We started out by going on a "lion walk" led by two guides, Monica and Nasha. Well, four if you count our lion escorts, Lady and Popi. We all got quite the adrenaline rush when the two felines first bounded towards us, but by the end of the walk we were completely comfortable with them around. We first walked to a tree that the lions would jump into, perching on branches while we took pictures with them. Then we moved on to a pond, which the lions bounded into in pursuit of the chicken wings Nasha and Monica had thrown in. The acrobatic leaps and twists they made whenever a chicken leg was tossed up were incredible, their lithe bodies stretching and splashing muddy water around. On the way back, Popi kept lying down in the middle of the path in an attempt to delay our return, but Nasha would tug her tail and get her back on her feet. It was amazing the way he and Monica were so comfortable with the lions, and vice versa.

Next, we visited the lion cubs. While Lady and Popi were around 18 months old, these cubs had only been alive for 3-7 weeks. We gathered in an enclosure and payed with them for a while, holding them in our laps, petting them, playing tug-of-war with towels, and getting our shoes and jeans gnawed on. Dad found a cub that liked to suck on fingers, which he and Tim claim was "really weird." I played with Ashlyn for a bit, but eventually she decided my nose might be yummier than a towel so I switched to Bob, who was much more calm.

As Monica explained to us, the lions are separated by age. Since they rely almost completely on instinct rather than mentoring, the little ones need no adult to guide them. From about 2.5 weeks to 8 weeks old, they live together and can interact with humans freely, like Bob, Ashlyn, and The Sucker. After that and until they are about 5 months old, they live together and are called "Devils," I assume because they are very rowdy (this is the equivalent of 8-12 year old humans, remember). After that, they are trained to go on walks like Popi and Lady, which they do until they are two years old. At that age, humans no longer interact with them because the lions are soon re-habituated in private game parks around South Africa. Some are kept to breed, but since they are all related Ukutula trades with other breeding organizations to keep the lions healthy. One of the oldest lions at Ukutula is Felix, who has fathered more than 100 cubs so far.

After the cubs, we visited Emma, the one tame cheetah they have (Baby is also "tame", but only for one or two people). Emma's mother was shot by a farmer when she was young, so Ukutula adopted her and nursed her back to health. Even now, she's very slight, but is healthy and very nice. We petted and took pictures with her for a few minutes before moving on to the tour of the compound. I learned that cheetahs are the only big cat that purrs, and it is one of the most beautiful sounds I've heard an animal make-- the content rumble she produces made it hard to me to stop stroking her head and belly.

Next, Monica took us to meet the other lions, this time with a fence between us. We first met some of the lions who were 4 or 5 years old-- waiting for a male to come and mate with them. Another family had joined us at this point, and the lions perked up immensely at the sight of the two toddlers. Monica had told us that they were very opportunistic cats, but the excitement on their faces when they saw the potential meal only meters away was startling. We then moved on to the adolescents who were being trained to go on walks with humans. At this point, Monica asked the new family to walk a few meters away from the group. As soon as the toddlers were separated from the rest of us, all the lions in the enclosure (about 30) stared straight at them, got up and ran to the fence, or got into a stalking position. It would have been an intimidating scene if now for the boy playing peek-a-boo with his would-be predators. We visited Lady, Popi, and the other lions who are allowed to go on walks with people before greeting the two tigers, Raja and Siren. Ukutula had picked them up form a zoo that had been treating them improperly-- feeding them the wrong foods so that Raja developed a pad leg condition and giving Siren only a tiny enclave to live in. Now Siren is pregnant, so they are expecting tiger cubs in a couple of months. After the Bengals, we got to see Rex, the resident Kalahari lion. Before seeing Rex, I had no idea there was more than one type of lion, so I'm very thankful for the chance to see such a magnificent beast. Kalahari lions had black manes that continue down their stomachs as well as their backs, and grow much longer than those of other lions. While standing outside Rex's enclosure, a member of his harem tried to charge on of the toddlers, eliciting a humorous "AHH!" from Mom, who momentarily forgot there was a fence in the lion's path.

To end our tour we paid a visit to the Devils, who were tired from the midday sun. This was probably a good thing, since Monica had warned us that if we turned our back to them they might jump on. Instead, they laid lazily around while we petted and scratched them. Tim and I enjoyed interacting with Viola, who let us bare her teeth and examine her claws. From Vi I discovered that the padding on a lion's feet is incredibly soft, and their gums have three colors.

I was disappointed when it came time to leave, but I hope I can come back to Ukutula some day, perhaps as a volunteer!

A few of the cubs gathered together.

Fixated on the little kids-- she didn't move her gaze until we left. One interesting thing about the white lions is that they all have blue eyes.

Siren! 

Ashlyn and I having some fun together. There were four aggressive cubs who had just recently been transitioned away from their mothers-- I'm pretty sure she was one of them.

Whenever Popi would sit down on the trail, Nasha grabbed her tail and pulled her to her feet. If she lied down, he'd grab her paws and flip her over. My new dream job.

Popi preparing to go for a chicken leg as Lady looks on.

And Popi again, this time in mid-jump. If you look closely you can see the meat right above her head.

The Devils were great, but now I'm kind of curious as what they do to earn that name.

Rex the Kalahari lion. Magnificent.

Bob! The only cub who didn't like chewing on my shoes/jeans. I consider myself lucky-- everyone else emerged from the cub area with numerous scratches on their wrists and hands.

The cubs loved to play tug-of-war with the towels.

Alex Winter-Nelson: Cheetah Whisperer

Being intimidating with Viola. Grr!

The whole family and some cubs! Dad's getting his finger sucked in this one.