Blog Post 12 – A Day in the Life #1

I promised a Day in the Life post, but then when I set out to write it I realized that the days are all so different. So instead of defining an average day, I will try to document a few different days.

Today I got up at about 6:00 when the rooster crowed, but lazed in bed for about 30 minutes. It is so cold. I spent the first hour or so cleaning my room as I just got back from the retreat. About 7:30 the second wife had prepared me a small tub of water for cleaning my face, so I washed and brushed my teeth and had breakfast. Today (like every other day) breakfast was sweet potatoes. I eat with one of Mr. Morrison's sons. We wash our hands, pray, and then eat. Sometimes we get honey or groundnut butter, but today it was just potatoes. There was also hot water that you add sugar to, and make a sort of tea. Conversation was pretty limited as he speaks no English, and I speak no Tonga.

Since today was transplanting day for the Magoye group, and Mr. Morrison is the head of the Magoye group, I could stay at the farm and wait for everyone else to show up. So I helped with some irrigation and talked with the farmers as they slowly trickled in. Finally the IDE team arrived with a bag of manure and the transplanting started. Mr. Morrison did most of the teaching, so I spent my time getting Willard or Lianne to translate for me, or talking with Willard about marketing and work related problems. After an hour or so Willard and Lianne left, so I helped with the transplanting, planting onions and cabbage and tomato.

At around 13:00, lunch was a maize, beans and groundnut porridge, which was quite tasty. There were also sweet potatoes. And Mr. Morrison had this cool trick with grenadillas, where he made juice by stirring the fruit into water and adding sugar. Quite tasty. Back to work around 14:00, and we finished by about 16:00. The farmers talked for a while, and then went home. The second wife heated up some water for me, and I took a bath. Then I sat in the sun for an hour or so and worked on my Tonga. When the wife started to cook I moved into the kitchen to talk with her and learn how she cooks. It is quite interesting, though I am still quite disappointed with how limited their cooking is. It seems they only have a couple recipes and cooking styles, which really limits the possible dinners.

Mr. Morrison returned from the fields around 18:00 when it became dark, and took his bath. Then we ate, and discussed the state of the world (and Zambia) until about 20:00 when I retreated to my room. I read for about an hour, and then got some good sleep. More Days in the Life to come in the future...

...Mike

Blog Post 11 – On the Shores of Lake Malawi

Take a peek at any other JF blog for Southern Africa, and I expect you will find a post similar to this one. And I highly encourage you to, because they probably have nicer pictures, and many other quality stories that I have forgotten to mention. While the travelling was pretty epic, it truly was a fantastic vacation, and Lake Malawi is one of the nicest places I have ever been to.

It was tough for me to gather my thoughts to write this post. I'm super jealous of Rob who lives 20Km away from the resort we stayed at. The sheer volume of water we were looking at was pretty amazing. How about the temperatures? Warm all night and morning instead of the frost I have here in Pemba? The Chibuku drinking competition? Not having nshima (or kapenta, bream, boiled sweet potatoes or okre) for an entire night? And of course the ideas and energy I got from talking with all these other smart Canadians. Yes, there were certainly lots of great memories from this trip, so I will share a couple and post some pics, and leave it at that.

I will start with the bus trip. Since I have not yet discussed buses in Southern Africa, please skip to section (*) if you are bored or scared of buses. Unfortunately this is the majority of the excitement for this post.

From Pemba, the first step for me was to mini-bus to Mazabuka. This was not essential, as I could have gone straight to Lusaka, but Mike Klassen and I planned to do this last piece together as buses are boring by yourself. I started from Pemba around 9:30, and reached Monze at about 10:00. However Monze is a hub, and we stayed there until about 12:00 for some reason, which I still don't understand because the bus was full and people were definitely ready to go. Reached Mazabuka around 13:00 and we started looking for the Mazhandu agent.

The Mazhandu bus company is quite innovative in that they leave on time, regardless of whether they are full or not. This seems to allow them to fill about 10 buses each day, instead of the 1 or 2 that other companies fill. Hmm, interesting business model, I am wondering what would happen if IDE farmer meetings started on time – maybe more farmers would come to our meetings. They also serve soft drinks if you are coming from Lusaka or Livingstone, which is an added bonus. But the agent was nowhere to be found so we hopped on another mini-bus which was Lusaka bound.

Mini-buses come in a couple flavours, but work pretty much the same. You fit about 30 people into a small van fitted with 24 seats, bargain with the conductor for the price, and go places. Most have a staff of 2 – a driver who drives and honks the horn, and a conductor who opens and closes the door, handles the money and yells at people out the window to inform them of where the mini-bus is headed. You are inevitably squashed, but unfortunately big buses rarely stop at places like Pemba so these are the only option until you get to a larger town like Monze.

However getting on the mini-bus was probably a mistake. We left about an hour later after touring town, picking up and dropping off about 10 people and a chicken, taking all the passengers from another mini-bus at a gas station then having them suddenly get up and leave again. Finally the driver seemed content with the number of passengers and we progressed again, reaching Lusaka at about 16:00. At this point Mike and I felt pretty bus savvy and decided to try our hand at mini-busing (instead of taxiing) to Mikishi Road where the backpackers is located. And we both only had a small bag of stuff, so we weren't afraid of a small walk.

Actually this stage was OK, some nice people guided us in the right direction, amidst the craziness of people trying to shove you into their bus, drag you to their taxi or sell you their stuff. We got off at the wrong place, but a 10 minute walk later (and collectively saving about a dollar over the taxi ride) and we made it!

The trip to Chipata was slightly more eventful. We went for the bus that leaves at 5:30 (and actually left at 6:30 which is pretty impressive). Its too bad the Mazhandu only runs in the Southern Province, but the NPS is usually quite respectable. I say usually because when our front tire blew out with a loud bang, and we almost crashed into a bus travelling the other direction, and then sat for a couple hours in the middle of nowhere because we had no jack or spare, my impression waned slightly. But Zambians are quite resourceful, we borrowed a jack from another bus, swapped the tire for a rear tire (which are dual tires so I guess you don't need both?) and headed on our way. And Zambians can also be entrepreneurial – many came from the nearest village with scones, Coke, Fanta, sugar cane and popcorn strapped to their bikes and got pretty decent business. After realizing how much these people were making, I became slightly suspicious, and considered walking back to look for a spike belt on the road.

We got to Chipata around 17:00 or so, and then crossed the border, and found a mini-bus to take us to Salema on Lake Malawi. After Lilownge (about halfway) we had the bus to ourselves so we made a quick detour to Shoprite for beers and marshmallows, and Nando's Chicken for food. The rest of the ride was pretty fun, and it felt nice to have some good spicy food with protein and nutrients.

(*)
After arriving safely and without incident at the resort, we had a couple days of workshops. The typical day was as follows. Get up between 5:30 and 7:00, depending on whether I want to watch the sunrise or just go for a morning swim. Morning sessions, usually a workshop on EWB or what we have been up to. Lunch, volleyball, great discussions or another swim. Afternoon sessions, usually in smaller groups and discussing specific work or life related challenges. Get some beers. Make dinner, or discussing very specific work related challenges with my coach Hans. Eat dinner. Beers. Campfire on the beach, swim, sit and talk. Snack. Bed around 22:00 or so.

The stay itself was pretty uneventful, but extremely scenic. We were surrounded by monkeys, birds, and huge trees. On the last night we went for a boat cruise to a nearby island, and got to see more of the lake (which is absolutely massive). We even did some swimming and jumping off the top of the boat, though I must confess that boat cruises make me feel pretty seasick, especially since the lake is so big that there are decent sized waves. I've posted some pics, just so everyone is properly jealous.

Blog Post 10 – Sanitary Insanity

“Can you wash?” Yes, this is a pretty intimidating question to get from a Tonga man the second night you are staying at his place. Especially right after you return from a long bike ride and sit down in the kitchen near him. Do I smell? “Yes, yes I can wash” I reply.

“Go, go” and the man indicates with his hands toward this low thatch structure with a chitenge covering the enterance. Well covering is a bit of an exaggeration I realized as I got closer, it had multiple holes in it, more than large enough to reveal everything. Everything, that is, that you had not already revealed by standing up in the barely more than waist height structure. And to top it off, the door faced the rest of the camp, so anyone happening to glance your way was looking straight into the bathing room. Luckily it is night I was thinking to myself. Ha, how wrong could I be.

While night kept me from accidentally revealing my body, I'm sure it revealed my bathing incompetence. I approached in jeans, shoes and a shirt, carrying a towel and soap. I removed my shoes outside, and entered the structure, promptly bashing my foot into the piece of tin roof that serves as the floor*. Then I removed my clothing, hanging it on the wooden posts that hold up the structure. At this point my jeans are upside down and everything in my pockets falls to the muddy dirt below.

*here floor is used in the sense that it keeps your feet somewhat out of the dirt and water.

After some time, my eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, and I begin the bathing process. This is actually pretty easy, you just splash some water, use the soap and rinse off. It definitely helps to have short hair. Upon completing the bathing, and having finished towelling off, and feeling quite good about myself, I begin to put my clothes on. Of course there was now water on the ground and floor, and my jeans got soaked as I stumbled while putting them on. I also managed to drop my shirt in the mud, which made it pretty wet and dirty. I did eventually emerge, my feet suddenly becoming dust magnets as I tried to put the shoes back on. Back in the privacy of my room, I changed all my clothes and began to formulate a new bathing routine.

Good thing too, since the “Can you wash” seems to come every night. But with the new bathing 2.0 system, the question is no longer dreaded but actually quite welcome. Now I begin by removing all my clothes except underwear, sandles (tropicals) and an undershirt. Bathing begins by removing the undershirt and underwear and proceeding as usual. At the end I can wash my underwear in the tub (I finally understand why no one else's underwear is on the clothesline after washing) and wrap a towel around myself to walk back to my room. And sometimes it is so dark I don't even use the structure, but just bath outside. Simple, and actually a nice warm bath is a really nice way to end the day.

I believe I have reached bathing level 3.0 yesterday when I had the opportunity to bathe in broad daylight. My fears about revealing myself through the hole filled curtain were subdued when the second wife used some extra chitenges to increase the cloth to air ratio. And while a hot bath is nice at night, it is even nicer around 16:30 hours when dusk is just coming, and it is still very warm outside. You towel off, with the warm sun still beating down, and realize that “Can you wash” is the start of the nicest African sanitary experiences.

Blog Post 9 – First Thoughts on the Village (June 10)

When I first came to Pemba, my counterpart Willard greeted me with a “How are you?” and “Welcome to the Village!” Of course, Pemba is not actually an official village, but many people in town call it such because it is so small. But last night I finally moved (or 'shifted' as they say in Zambia) and am now living with Mr. Morrison's family.

Tonga families live together, in a sort of camp in the middle of their farm. The ground is light dusty sand (which is most certainly swept at least once per day), and there are a series of houses, kitchens, bathing area, and toilet arranged around the camp. The observant reader may suspect that the number of kitchens appears to be related to the number of wives, according to the equation k = w, where k is the number of kitchens, and w is the number of wives. In the future we shall refer to this relation as Mike's Theorem. At the present, it appears k = 2. The kitchens are large, open thatch-roofed shelters with a fire in the middle, and are nice places to sit at night when it is cold. My house is quite small, about 4x4 meters, though the main house is larger, and probably has 4 or 5 rooms.

The first night was pretty surreal. I arrived about 5 PM, and was greeted by Mr. Morrison. He grabbed me one of the ubiquitous stools that exist at every village home, and we sat and talked for a couple minutes. Then he excused himself to quickly visit a friend, and showed me to my room. As I followed him to my room, one of his daughters followed me with the same stool, in case I should feel the sudden urge to sit. While I waited, I sat outside and read my Tonga textbook, hoping to pick up some phrases. Willard, brought my blankets, mattress and clothes by motorbike at around 5:45, and as soon as he stopped, one of the wives rushed over to unload the bags and carry them to my room. I was impressed, one of my bags was quite heavy, and she lifted it while carrying her child on her back.

Then I sat in one of the kitchens while the wives rushed around preparing the room, putting a table in it, and covering the windows with sacks nailed to the plaster to protect me from the cold and wind. One of his daughters brought me some sugar cane to gnaw on while I waited in the kitchen (proper sugar cane gnawing technique will appear in a later post). Later two of his sons came to sit in the kitchen with me, but we didn't talk much. I think Mr. Morrison is the only one in the family who speaks English, prompting me to start reading that Tonga textbook more seriously. Sometime shortly after it got dark (6 PM or so), Mr. Morrison reappeared and we talked for a while before dinner was served. Us men ate in one kitchen, while the women ate in a different kitchen. I'm still quite unsure about typical gender role etiquette, so I will have to examine further and report in a future post.

Food was good, there was nshima with veg (rape) and groundnut paste. But it is quite hard to eat nshima with no light, because you don't know if you are getting the proper amount of relish when you scoop, or even if you are scooping anything. And eating roller meal nshima was interesting, it has more flavour than breakfast meal, but a much coarser texture. I think it is like white bread and brown bread – everyone in town buys the breakfast meal because it is white and more processed, but the roller meal has a much fuller taste, and everyone in the village uses it because of the cost. This one was milled from Mr. Morrison's own maize.

Over dinner we talked little, but after Mr. Morrison got some beans to shell, and we discussed farming, marketing, and problems with business in Zambia. In short, I was quite discouraged by our discussion – it seems to me that there is almost no market in Zambia for food because 85% of people are farmers, so they are all competing to sell their food to the other 15%. The market is saturated, and there are very few large factories or agro-processors to accept more supply. Especially somewhere as isolated as Pemba, where dirt roads/paths are the norm, and transportation costs are insane, accessing new markets just means taking the profit away from one farmer and giving it to another farmer. The schools and hospitals already buy locally, and no one here eats at restaurants or stays at motels (guesthouses). This means taking the produce to Lusaka or Livingstone, which is a very long, expensive trip and a volatile market.

However he also gave me a great idea that I didn't even realize until this afternoon. Mr. Morrison loves experimenting with his crops, for example he has started placing sand around his seedlings to keep them warm, because the sun warms the sand and keeps it warmer at night and in the morning. Or he has successfully grown orange trees by grafting, which have started producing after a couple of years, because the traditional method of planting the seeds took too long. He now was having problems growing tomatoes this season, and he wants to make some sort of shelter of grass (thatch) almost like a greenhouse to protect them from the cold. He thinks of these ideas himself, he has no formal training, just a love of experimenting and a huge drive to improve his farm, which is a refreshing change from typical Zambian attitude.

I am now thinking that instead of trying to access new, non-existent markets it could be more profitable to help the farmers develop some technology to grow crops when the market is not saturated. For example now tomatoes are Kw3000 for 4. In a couple months when everyone harvests, the price may drop to Kw1000 for 4. In short, some sort of greenhouse that enables farmers to be harvesting now (i.e. planting in January or February when it is hot and rainy and very difficult to grow) could let them access a non-saturated market. And how about planting maize, which is typically a rain fed crop, now and harvesting in September or October, which means growing it during the driest season. It would be possible if you irrigate using a treadle pump, and the prices you fetch during those months are apparently huge! I'm still formulating these ideas, but I hope to roll some of them out over the next little while, and see what we can do, possibly meaning I plant some maize of my own, just to prove that its possible.

We went to bed around 8:30 PM, which is when I finally managed to arrange my stuff, setup my mosquito net and all that. I was surprisingly tired, and had no problem sleeping until my usual 6:30 AM. It was a very cold and awkward morning, especially with no Mr. Morrison to interpret for me. However hand gestures allowed me to suspect that the bucket of water was for cleaning my face, and the cup of water was for brushing my teeth. I took a wander around the garden, looked at some of the vegetables, and demonstration plots. I ate potatoes for breakfast with Mr. Morrison's sons, and left for work around 9:00. Its amazing how long things take here. On my ride to work I found Mr. Morrison, who was up and about, informing farmers about a meeting taking place for a community school they were trying to build.

One other interesting aspect of Mr. Morrison's place was the outdoor decor. The shrub of grass outside my hut is finely complemented by a fluorescent light tube and cooking spoon. The other nearby decor consists of a small piece of tin roof, standing in the ground like an obelisk. The baby chicks are quite cute, running around the camp after their mom. And he also manages to keep a few doves, which love to live in the kitchen. I think they like the free food, but apparently doves are also a sign of a house that gets along quite well. This is good news!

I am of course under-qualified to explain all the nuances of life in a Tonga family, however I just wanted to offer you, the interested reader, an insight into what I saw when I first encountered rural life in Tonga-land. Over the next couple days I will take some pictures so that when I post this, you too can see my new residence. And in future posts, I'll be sure to keep you updated on my extended village stay, a few kms from Pemba. I'll try to write another blog post before I leave for our retreat in Malawi starting the 17th, and I promise is is almost time for the “A Day in the Life”, hopefully that will come early July...

...Mike

Blog Post 8 – Getting into the Rhythm of Things (June 4)

I think I'm starting to get a feel for Pemba, which is to say that I am getting better at embracing the unexpected, and going with the flow. For example last Saturday the power went off, and stayed off. Apparently the Kafue weed has suddenly blocked the dam, and reduced the water flow, and places like Pemba didn't warrant power except between 23:00 and 01:00 at night. Which is inconvenient if you require electricity to power your electric water pumps, though Mukalabi and I fortunately had a large stash of water. Now things are getting better, and I am hopeful we will continue to get power, for at least some useful times of the day.
Take Monday, when I went to work and no one else showed up. So I did some reading, got up to speed on the reports our office writes, and then went for a bike ride. It is always neat to walk or ride around Pemba, because everyone is friendly, and greets you as you travel. It can be slightly embarrassing when they know me by name, and I don't even recognize them, but as the only 'Makua' (white man) in town, I'm getting pretty used to it. The kids here are quite funny, as they like to stand in their yards and yell “HELLO! HOW ARE YOU MAKUA?”, or some similar variant, over and over again until I greet them properly.
Or Tuesday, when I went to Mr. Morrison's to see if I could start moving in. Apparently he meant Tuesday, Zambian Standard Time, as I will not be moving until next Monday at the earliest. But I did ask his permission for a couple pictures of his farm, and I have posted one here of him and his watering apparatus. And one huge advantage of visiting farmers is all the produce we get, oranges, potatoes, and whatever else they have to give us as gifts for stopping by.
Or yesterday, when Willard and Lianne had some other things to do, so I went with Mukalabi to see what his work promoting Conservation Farming was like. I learned a ton about different planting techniques, fences made of closely spaced plants to keep animals out of gardens, and saw a farm that was harvesting maize, to the tune of 200 bags and counting (most farmers will get 60 if they are good). Pauline, a friend of Mukalabi, is married to a European, and appears to be quite well off. She drives a truck (owing a vehicle is pretty rare) and rents the farmland where they are harvesting an incredible amount of maize (interestingly enough, the owners of the land are not nearly as good farmers). She also runs an agro-dealer shop, selling seeds, fertilizer and stuff like that. And lives in a fantastic house, complete with a patio, fence, and all that. It was quite interesting living the good live for a couple hours, talking politics with a highly educated Zambian, and eating a fantastic meal. It was an interesting contrast to the usual livelihood of farmers I see here in Zambia.
Or today, when I attended my first farmers meeting, which was cool, except that I hardly understood anything. I am getting good at the Tonga greetings, but beyond that, I am quite inept at speaking or understanding Tonga. And for some reason, everyone assumes I am quite knowledgeable about all matters to do with farming, business, wealth acquisition and stuff like that, and just by my telling them stories of Canada, they expect to find solutions to poverty. If only it were true! Ah well, just one more thing to get used to. And while I ponder how to come across as less of an authority figure, and more of a student learning about Zambian farmers, I leave you with a picture of the farmers at the meeting examining the treadle pump and demo gardens...
...Mike

Blog Post 7 – First week of work (May 29)

The power goes out in Pemba a lot. At least every couple nights around dinner time for about an hour and a half, and then sometimes in the day as well. Its some sort of power sharing scheme, to ensure that Zambia can get by on as few power plants and dams as possible. Though I'm not sure what the ecological effects of everyone cooking on charcoal are. It is times like these, when there is no light (daylight is from 6AM to 6PM), and my house-mate is away somewhere, that I am very thankful for the comfort of my 6 hour battery life on my laptop.
Soon, I will be very used to the lack of power. Tuesday I started work for real -- Lianne and I rode to some local farmers on our bicycles, and I met a farmer that soon I will be staying with. Mr. Morrison is an excellent farmer, I'm guessing he has about 10 acres of land, full of cabbage, beans, tomatoes, peppers, and a few orange trees. He is near a stream, which he uses for irrigation – he pumps water into a couple massive drums using his treadle pumps (it takes about half an hour to fill). Then he opens the valve on the drum, and using a long hose he waters his crops. I'm sure after staying with him for a while I will be able to learn a ton about farming in rural Zambia. And he has said that I can grow a small garden on his land, which I am looking forward to greatly.
My future home is about a 30 minute bike ride from Pemba, so I am looking forward to some good exercise in the morning. And there is no power, so I suppose I will be charging my devices at work. And getting home at a reasonable hour will be a must, as Zambia gets increadably dark at night. I am excited about getting away from my current life though, I didn't come to Zambia to watch crappy pirated DVD's, or listen to Chris Brown, or play pool in the evenings, as I can do all that in Canada. But in Canada I don't have the opportunity to live with a farmer who has 2 wives, or eat nshima every meal and observe how a rural farmer's family interacts.
Anyway enough excited speculation, I'm sure I will have good stories about rural life after living with Mr. Morrison for a few weeks, and now I will discuss work.
Some background: Zambians in the Southern Province generally grow maize, and harvest about now. Maize is a rain-fed crop, but now the rains are done, so any crops will require the use of irrigation. And by done, I mean it will probably not rain the entire time I am here. Maize is sold to the government at a price of about Kw 65000 per bag, which is about $13 CAD or so. I think good farmers will harvest about 100 bags. But the government only pays you in October, so you can also sell to other people now for about Kw 48000 per bag and get cash now. I believe this is illegal. Traditionally this single sale is the only source of income for the farmers, so they either use the money to buy ground maize to make nshima, or grind it locally and store it to feed their family for the rest of the year. Now the farmers are looking to other ways of making money, which IDE is strongly encouraging. Some already have established gardens of cabbage, tomatoes, beans, rape and peppers. Most of these plants are small and are in the transplanting stage, but some cabbage and rape is ready for harvest.
So Tuesday we went about 5 km into the field on our bicycles (yes, it shouldn't take 30 minutes, but you are not considering the sandy dirt roads or the Zambian speed at which we travelled), past the school and to a few farmers gardens. I say gardens partly because that is the word to describe a non-maize plot, and because these plots are often literally the size of gardens. Good ones are about 30 paces by 50 paces, and not so good ones are maybe half or a quarter of that size. The biggest barriers to large gardens seem to be access to water, as it often requires the farmers to walk a few hundred meters from the water source to the plot, carrying the water in a bucket. Mr. Morrison is able to grow such a large number of plants because of his treadle pumps.Wednesday Lianne was tired from all the cycling, and we walked to a local cluster of houses sponsored by the Catholic Church. In all there were 13 families, and all are members of the IDE project. The houses are quite reasonable, compared to other local houses, and all are about 500m from either of 2 hand water pumps. Each has a decent size of land for a garden, and most are taking advantage of it, some more than others (one farmer was making bricks from mud obtained by mixing water with dirt from a local termite mound, to supplement his gardening income). Some farmers had potentially a few hundred kg of crops to be harvested in August or September, while others will only have a few kg. It was very interesting to see the differences in quality of crop, and I hope to find out why some are bigger and better than others. A couple hypotheses I'd like to examine: size and composition of family, soil quality, other part time or full time jobs.
Thursday Lianne was still too tired, but Willard and I went to meet the chairman of the closest group, who is also a good farmer. He owns a guest house, which he is renovating, and a significant portion of land which his garden is on. He told me that if he could obtain a source of credit, he would make his garden 2 or 3 times larger, and was showing me his weir dams, where his tank and treadle pumps will go when he buys it, and his drip irrigation system which is pretty good. He was confident that he could manage a larger farm, even while working on his guest house. However when I probed further, he also mentioned that besides credit, the other main problems facing Pemba farmers were access to water and access to markets. In fact, with the current markets available to him, he probably couldn't even sell what he had, so I'm not totally sure if obtaining credit would help him or hurt him. Especially with the interest on loans being insanely high (I think up to 25% if I understand correctly).
During these 3 days, we were talking to the farmers to collect information. We are trying to find out what farmers are growing which vegetables, and when they expect to harvest, so that we can try to find markets for them. This is important because it appears local supply far exceeds local demand.
Friday we had a team meeting, so while during the other days I was able to find out what the farmers identified as issues, Friday I found out what the IDE workers saw as major obstacles. IDE Pemba is divided into 3 field offices, which are about 100km apart. Without internet, it makes for very awkward communication lines, so the team meetings that happen a couple times a month are pretty important.
From what I could gather, the field workers are having major problems disseminating the information that they have. The plan is to teach program promoters (PPs) in each of the major zones, and then the PPs are supposed to spread the info to the other farmers. However Tonga farmers live very far apart from each other, even within a village, and it can be hard for the PPs to travel between the farmers to teach them. Add on the fact that IDE does not offer incentives to the PPs and other local NGO's do (for example bicycles that enable the PPs to travel to other farmers), and the field staff are getting quite frusterated.
Even in training sessions where farmers do show up, the IDE staff sometimes make little progress. For example, one of our pillars is Gender (the others are input supply, marketing, capacity building in farming techniques, irrigation and credit) and while many farmers promise they will be more sensitive to gender issues during the trainings, in practise there is no change. Because Tonga's are quite polygamous, and traditionally men and women have very different roles, this is a major sticking point.
On the positive side, there are some successes. We have obtained a possible source of credit for some farmers. Markets are being found in local schools, hospitals, Spar market and the like. And irrigation is being widely embraced, with over 100 farmers requesting vouchers that will reduce the cost of irrigation technology that they wish to buy. This includes treadle pumps and drip irrigation kits.
So that was the first week of work for me, and here are some pictures of Pemba to show you what I've been up to. My camera had an incident, I broke the LCD screen, but it still takes pictures, so I just have to guess what I'm aiming at and it seems to still be OK. Next time I go to Lusaka (in a month or so) I can hopefully get the screen repaired, and then go picture crazy...
...Mike