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