Innovation In The Village

Simply, work in the village is hard. My neighbors, and in truth my co-workers, work for everything they get. They sweat and pour effort into making ends meet, which means keeping poverty at bay for a little bit longer.

It’s something I see every day and at times it can really wear me down. Instead of succumbing to my surroundings through apathy or frustration, I’ve decided to try to bring some innovation to the village and work with those around me to make their lives a little easier.

My flagship project in this effort is an old bicycle that’s been made into a plow for use in cultivating and weeding farmers’ fields and gardens. These two activities are both time consuming and overwhelmingly labor intensive. At some point a strong back and an even stronger resolve are necessary, and even that is eroded away by long, labor-intensive hours in the fields.

This is the first bike plow that we designed.  It wasn't real great, but it was a good start.  It was built for the man on the right, Mr. Sandonji.  He is nearly 80 years old and was having a hard time cultivating his field.

My hope is that the bike plow will gain some traction and start to be adopted by those I work with.

The plow is just a step up from a hoe or shovel, so it’s a simple machine and can be easily understood. I’m not trying to revolutionize farming, just make it simpler.

With the back wheel still attached, the bike frame is overturned and the seat’s replaced with a locally built digging plow or weeding blade. The handlebars are inverted and the user then pushes the plow and goes about their work.

The new bike plow, shown here, is much better than the first.  I took it this day to show and allow my students at Kalende Mission College to use.

I wish I could take credit completely for the idea, but I can’t. Another volunteer passed on the initial idea to me, and I then worked with a Canadian Missionary in my area to build a prototype.

Once we had a design I showed it to 10 farmers for their input, and since then it has been an ongoing cycle of redesigning, retesting and rebuilding. Each model is getting better, and each time we’re growing more confident, more excited that we’re on the right track.

For now, the model we’re using is saving some farmers up to 75 percent on their time in the fields and a large amount in effort, as well as lower back pain.

To gain more insight into improved designs and to drum up interest in the project, I’ve been traveling around with a few farmers to different areas and villages throughout Mufumbwe District to hold demonstrations with the plow.

The demonstrations are pretty informal and laid back. The bike plow is placed out front of the assembled group, and they’re all encouraged to use it in working the land for a few minutes. After everyone has a chance, the request comes for suggestions and design improvements.

Most demonstrations are hands-on.  I like people to use the plow, discuss it, and provide feedback.

And to be honest, for as decent of an initial design as mine was, these farmers have come up with some amazing ideas, the kind that blow mine out of the water. I’m really excited for this project because it’s starting to blossom into something more.

Some of the people I’m working with are not just trying to build their own bicycle plows or give constructive criticism of mine, they’re also looking at other tools and tasks in their daily lives and asking themselves how they too could be improved.

Even if the bike plow turns out to be nothing more than a good idea that never quite worked, I’ll consider it a success if the people that saw it take what they learned at the demonstration, apply it to another item and improve their livelihoods through innovation.

On this day the bike plow was used to make small ridges in four hours in a 50 meter by 50 meter field of peanuts.  To do this by hand can take days and days of manual labor.  The ridges are used to prevent drowning a plant in the field during rainy season.

I doubt innovation of machines will solve all of my community’s problems, but it can’t hurt.

So much of life here is affected by cultural norms and government policy that those seem to have the most sweeping impact. But if life can be made simpler through a bike plow for a handful of farmers, then I’m all for it and I’ll happily check that project off as a success on my list.

All because of a little bit of village innovation.

Harversting Kamabuta's First Fishpond

On August 19th, Mr. Nshimbi (one of my favorite people in the village and surely one of the hardest workers in the area) harvested his fishpond.  It was not only his first time ever harvesting the pond, but it was also Kamabuta's (my community) first ever fishpond.  You see, Mr. Nshimbi built the first fishpond ever in our area.  

Late last November the pond was completed - after a month's worth of digging - but due to resource restrictions we weren't able to locate and transport fingerlings to the pond until the end of January. 

A net is moved through the pond 4 or 5 times to catch the fish.  Some men hold the net high so the fish can't jump over, while others hold it down, which prevents the fish from swimming under.  Mr. Nshimbi is in the water to my right, wearing a brown shirt and white hat.

About six and half months later he wanted to harvest his pond.  I'm an agriculture volunteer, not a fish farming volunteer (PC/Zambia has four programs: health, education, agriculture, and aquaculture).  So, I called two volunteers that specialize in aquaculture to come help myself and Mr. Nshimbi in navigating the dos and don'ts of harvesting a pond.  Without Tom and Ryan's help it would've been a frustrating process... a big thanks to them.

After the fish have been caught in the net they're moved to the center of the net, then dunked into the water to remove excess mud and other debris.  

The whole process is pretty straight forward.  A net is dragged through the pond four or five times and each time the collected fish are removed and placed into buckets.  They're then sorted by size and cleaned off.

After they're taken from the net they're placed into buckets and sorted into varying sizes.  Once they're sorted they are then washed and cleaned up for the next step.

After the fish have been cleaned off they're weighed and sold by the kilogram to interested buyers from the community.  We started at about 7:30 in the morning with partially draining the pond and about six hours later we were finished - the fish had been caught, bagged, and sold away.

In the end Mr. Nshimbi made about $50 from the harvest.  That doesn't seem incredibly high especially when someone takes into account that he spent six and a half months getting ready for this one day, but for a place where the average person makes around $2 per day they did alright.

After they've been sorted and cleaned they're then placed into plastic bags and weighed out to 1 kilogram per bag.  That's about 2.2 pounds per bag.  Then they're sold for about $5 per bag to the community.

It's also important to consider that this was Mr. Nshimbi's first harvest ever.  Due to that the management leading up to the harvest was a learning process for him.  At times he wasn't as diligent as he could have been with regards to feeding his fish.  I expect he's learned a lot from this first harvest and the next time we harvest in March he'll have an even higher yield of fish. 

Nshimbi looks on with other community members as the fish are being sorted through.  He was hoping for about 90 pounds of fish being caught, but in reality only around 25 were kept for sale.  Although a lower amount then what he wanted he later told me that he was happy with it, because it's a learning process and next time he'll have even more.

Things here take time to happen and a exceptionally managed fish farm won't happen overnight, but I was happy of the accomplishment - he was the first to take the initiative in building the pond, stocking it, managing it, and then harvesting it.  That's a big step he took and it paid off. 

I should also note that because of his pond I've been asked to plan out four other ponds for future construction in the area by other villagers.  His example is spreading amongst the people of the area.  

Thank You Properly Trained Butchers

I would like to extend my sincerest thank you to the butchers of the world.  A good cut of meat is a wonderful thing - a thing of beauty.

I remember watching Letterman and seeing his bit about "Know Your Cuts of Meat" and never knowing what the cut was.  At times, it pains me to say, but I may of even thought, "Who cares?  As long as its delicious I'll eat it."

Here a local man is grilling goat.  The goat is killed and then cut up using just an ax.  Typically local butchering leaves a lot to be desired for the American omnivore, like myself.

And I would.  I'd eat it all up.  At times I even pitied vegetarians for missing out on what I, as an omnivore, got to so often experience - perfectly prepared meat: everything from butchering to cooking.  And sometimes I still do.

Now that I'm here I can't experience that perfectly prepared meat.  I'm nearly a vegetarian in the village, but occasionally I get some meat: goat, chicken, pork, fish, and occasionally a cut or two of beef.  It's always a special treat when someone has a bit that they're willing to give or even sell to me.

Sometimes local fish farmers will sell fish like these for about $4 per 2.5 pounds.  It's OK, but the fish tend to be undersized, which requires eating a lot of small fish to meet an eater's fish appetite.

However, the meat that I do get to add into my diet is pretty low quality, typically.  Not because of the consistency or anything like that, but rather it's the cut.  In rural Zambia an animal is killed and then a person, the butcher in a sense, hacks it up with an ax.  Flesh, bone, tendons and all - nothing is properly separated.  I'll eat it, but it just isn't the same as a correctly butchered sirloin or pork chop back home.

The grocery stores here have proper cuts, but out here in the bush I'm out of luck.  Someday I'll get Stateside again and throw back a great big t-bone with a smile on my face and think of how appreciative I am to proper butchers and their trade.  But for now I'll just gnaw away on the meat chunks I can track down.

Two Peace Corps Volunteers braai (grill) chicken breasts for a cross-cultural day where Americans show some local guests how we prepare and eat American fare - meat is obviously important here.