Planting For The Future

I'm a big fan of planting trees.  Out of one small seeds comes something large and worthwhile: a tree.  And that tree can provide services for people like shade, food, and nitrogen-fixation among other for years and years, even decades.  Yet, poverty and intensive use of forest resources are causing deforestation on a wide-scale here in Zambia.  And, unfortunately, trees aren't being put back in place of those cut.  There is a lot of deforestation, but minimal reforestation.  It's a serious problem with long-term impacts.

At my house I continuously have trees in a tree nursery.  The children help me fill the pots, I water them, then together we plant the trees.  I've found that naming trees after individual children gives a sense of ownership and excitement to the kids, which I hope will lead to better sense of how caring about their local forest resources and the environment as a whole.

In my community we're trying to alleviate some of these issues by planting our own trees. With some help from the village's kids, we've been busy planting trees, trees, and more trees.  I plant all kinds of trees: some that live a long time (red mahogany and other local species), some that can be used for food (mangoes, guavas, moringas), some that improve soil fertility (msangu, tephrosia, and pigeon pea), and some that just look nice (jacaranda and flamboyant).  Trees serve a variety of purposes, so I've aimed to plant a wide-array of them.

Anything can be used in a tree nursery to hold seedlings, even Pop-Tarts boxes from the United States.  Although black plastic bags, provided by the Forestry Department, work the best.

I think that part of the issue with replanting projects is that it takes a lot of planning ahead and looking to the future in order to be successful, and neither of things can be simply taught.  Instead, they take years of education and behavior change to really develop.  So, we're chipping away at old notions that the forests are infinite and looking at them as valuable, truly invaluable, and finite resources worth careful management. 

It hasn't been easy though and I've had to try a lot of different techniques.  Some worked a little bit, some failed badly, and none have been overwhelming successes - except one.  That would be working with kids.  Kids love to help me with projects and there is no other project that I want more help with than planting trees.  

Darius, seen here, is posing with a msangu tree that I helped him plant in his maize field.  Msangu is one of the best trees an African farmer can plant for improving and maintaining their soil's fertility.  After ten years of growth the tree will produce enough Nitrogen fertilizer that they'll no longer have to use more expensive synthetic fertilizers.

To me, planting trees is also a kind of legacy project at some level.  I know that if I help a farmer plant trees that benefit their lives then they'll be able to look at the tree and remember that I was there, but more importantly what I taught: trees are just as necessary as clean water and air - without them we would have a far less worthwhile life.  It sounds narcissistic, I admit this, but I do think that as a volunteer I have to think along these lines to a certain extent by using what influence I have to create an interest and desire to use what is taught / what is learned to benefit the future.  

Planting a tree isn't planting for tomorrow or even the week after... it's planting for the long-term future and the long-term well-being of a community.  It isn't an easy concept to pass on, but it is absolutely important.

Here a field of cotton has been intercropped with msangu trees.  The cotton is gaining the benefit of nitrogen-fixation courtesy of the msangu trees.  Systems of integrating trees into agricultural and normal, everyday living systems is key to reducing deforestation and improving people's lives in a meaningful way.  Not doing so is the same as offering no solution.

My boss at Peace Corps loves to say, "The best time to plant a tree was ten years ago, the second best time is today."  I take that to heart and will keep on planting for the future.

Zambia's Hunger Season

While eating locally grown food in the United States is a trendy idea, it’s strictly of necessity in Zambia.

These girls spent about 25 minutes collecting mangoes, then only a few minutes eating them.    Without mangoes the hunger season would be far worse on the locals, as this time of the year sees a huge decrease in available foods.

Typically, there are no grocery stores with aisles of food. Instead people eat what they grow themselves or what can be bought or bartered for from neighbors.

As part of a personal challenge I took it upon myself to go on a strictly village diet for the month of November. I decided that I would only eat foods found in the local community and only foods that a local would have access to. That means no cookies and treats that the local shops sometimes carry — due to the price.

This woman, Matilda, farms her few acres of land to provide for her family of 5.

Also, no food bought in one of the provincial capital’s markets and, certainly, no food — mainly candy — that had been sent to me from friends and family in the U.S. I’d spend the month eating as they do and staring every single night at the popcorn on my counter.

Unfortunately, I didn’t consider what the month of November is like.

Not only is it incredibly hot (it’s the end of the hottest, driest time of the year and just before the seasonal rains), but November is also at the heart of “the hunger season,” which will last until February. This is the time when a community’s preparedness to fight hunger is put to the test.

This woman, Beauty, has two sons and herself to farm enough food for in order to avoid food shortages. 

Having enough food to meet a person’s dietary needs is called food security. And when a community’s food supplies are pressed it can be problematic because droughts, poor management, and even worse luck can cause widespread food shortages in Africa.

While in the hunger season people’s gardens are just finishing up and their field crops have not grown enough to harvest, so they rely on dwindling family food reserves. These sometimes run out and when that happens there are few options remaining.

During my experiment, my main sources of food consisted of beans, rice, tomatoes, onions, cabbage, some greens, peanuts, mangoes and the occasional bites of fish or chicken.

It didn’t seem too bad for the first few days, but after eating rice and beans for five straight days, I started to get a little wary of it.

This man, Eston, is in the second year of gardening for income and food production.   He's more blessed than most in that he doesn't have to provide for an entire family with his single garden - he only has to look out for himself.  

Midway through the challenge I started to simply skip meals because I didn’t feel like eating. I’ve always been a person who loves eating, but eating the same thing didn’t keep me interested.

My experiment wasn’t without its limitations.

All the people that live in my village make their living from growing field crops and tending gardens. I don’t do either. I had to buy all my food and for me it wasn’t a problem to spend a dollar on five onions and another on tomatoes.

But a local mother may not be able to afford nearly an entire day’s earning on a few onions, let alone tomatoes. So she relies on her garden and field to produce. If it doesn’t, then the family goes hungry.

One thing I discovered during my month-long trial was that the mango tree plays a vital role in my community’s food security. With home food reserves failing, mangoes are a main source of food and nutrition in bridging the gap between meals. Kids come home from school and immediately climb into the trees to fetch mangoes.

This girl is the daughter of my village's headman.  Everyday she goes with her friends to collect and chow down on mangoes to supplement their food intake.

After some time they come down, collect the mangoes they’ve dropped, and set out to eat them. Without the mango tree and its fruit, hunger season would be infinitely more difficult and I wouldn’t have recognized this as clearly if I wasn’t trying this experiment.

In the end, like many aspects of my Peace Corps service, I never fully experienced hunger season and all that this time of year brings.

Only a few times was I really hungry and I only ran out of food completely in the last week, when locally available foods became scarce (then I went to the mango trees).

I experienced the lack of dietary options that many go through, but how can I really say that counts for anything like true hunger? I can’t.

It was a good experience not only in that I tested my ability to say no to eating that popcorn, but also that I tried to walk a mile in the locals’ shoes — even if only for a month.

Learning a New Language Is Tricky, Tricky

Mwaiyai mwane! In the local lan­guage of Kaonde that means, “Wel­come!”

Unlike English, I’ve not had 27 years of attempted master­ing of this language, so you’ll understand if I admit to being a novice, although fumbling is more like it, in regards to my communication abilities.

Kaonde is a small language as far as languages go — only about 250,000 people speak it as their mother tongue —and al­though it is one of Zambia’s main recognized languages, it’s just one of 73 languages spoken in the country.
Deriving from the Bantu family of languages (like Swahi­li), it is constructed in a com­pletely different manner than English. For instance, to say, “I am home” is “Nji pa nzubo.” Where “N” is the subject prefix, “ji” is the verb stem, “pa” is the locator, and “nzubo” is home. It’s all very difficult to say the least.

However, the construction isn’t the hardest part for me — it’s the memorization of words and how they’re used. The Eng­lish language, according to Ox­ford English Dictionary, has more than 615,000 words, of which some 200,000 are in com­mon use. That means we have lots of words to describe things, nearly perfectly. And if we want to spice it up then there are al­ways synonyms.

My issue with Kaonde is that one word describes so much, so context is hugely important.

For example, the word “ki­chi” means tree, branch, stick and limb. Although they’re all similar, they’re also very differ­ent. It’s possible that in asking for a stick, someone could bring you a large branch, or even a log.

Then there is the word “ku­nya,” which means to defecate. It’s one slight n-sound away from “kuya,” which means to go. That’s a mistake you don’t want to make in passing conver­sation.

All this leads me to some­thing important that I’ve learned while here in the Peace Corps – that I’m really glad I’m an English speaker because English seems depressingly hard to figure out, let alone mas­ter.

If I think Kaonde is hard be­cause of its simplicity and lack of words, then English is ex­ceedingly more difficult be­cause of its complexity and vastness of vocabulary.

This realization of how diffi­cult my own language is has giv­en me infinite respect for the Zambians that I live and work with. It’s common to find some­one who is fluent in three or four languages with an additional understanding of another three or four. And there are some that know in excess of10 total. I can’t even imagine.

I’ve been in many meetings where I count three or more lan­guages being interchanged throughout the discussion, without any delay. The human brain’s recognition capability is amazing.

At times my language skills don’t bother me as much as maybe they should because I use my inability to communi­cate as a defense. For instance, if someone asks me to do some­thing that I have no desire to do (like kill a goat), then I just pre­tend I don’t know what’s being asked.

Other times I really wish I could give as thorough an an­swer as I’d like. For example, I’ve tried numerous times to ex­plain constellations in the night sky to people in the local lan­guage and fall far short.

It’s one thing I look forward to about my return to the United States: lots of English speakers. I’ll be able to let jokes and pop culture references fly.

However, when I do manage to crack a joke in my broken Kaonde it gets a far better re­sponse than anything I could say back home. That’s because the locals appreciate my efforts far more than I do.

Last night I told my village’s headman, in English, “You know I could live here five more years and never get the hang of Kaonde.”

And in Kaonde he responded, “Mugeseka.” At least you try.

Public Demonstrations

Spreading information in a rural setting isn't a simple thing.  What we would use in the United States like emails, flyers, and even cell phones aren't readily available in a village.  The cost of these things, especially minutes (or talk-time as it's called locally) for a cell phone, are sometimes excessive.

So, the best way to do this is to tell as many people as possible - over and over.  And to further that spread of information it's always a good thing to have a demonstration, where people can see firsthand how something works.  

Here, a volunteer is showing a kiln that locals can use to make charcoal for cooking out of maize cobs.   Seeing this kind of project is a must for sensitizing people and spreading information among those that are interested.

Most of the people in the communities where volunteers work are farmers that prefer to learn by seeing and doing, rather than listening and blindly believing.  I can't blame them either.  A lot of the things that volunteers promote sound too good to be true... and sometimes they are.  This is another reason why public demonstrations are important: to openly test a new concept or design.

Sometimes the demonstrations have a few people at them, and sometimes the demonstrations get a much higher turnout than expected.  This is always great - although rare.  

Here, another volunteer (in the blue, white, and red shirt towards the front left) is demonstrating a hand washing station to some locals at the Peace Corps' training center in Chipembi, Zambia.  At this demonstration the locals got to try the station and see how it was built - so they could successfully make their own.

Some volunteers do a lot of public demonstrations and then there are others, like myself, that do only one or two per month.  I prefer to work in smaller settings, sometimes just in a one-on-one kind of atmosphere.  Part of it is because I like getting to know the person I'm working with, then other times I find the public demonstrations to be overwhelming - it's a lot of people staring you down all at once.

One of the issues I have is that when I do hold demonstrations people show up late or not at all, which is discouraging.  However, when people do come they may show up intermittently throughout a two hour period.  Hardly ever is an entire group there right at the designated starting time.  All of this has taught me one very important thing: always bring a book... you may be waiting for a while.

It can be hard to hold a demonstration when people are showing up randomly throughout the session. Once I get rolling I like to keep it going in a forward progression: not starting, stopping, and then restarting again.

There is a trade-off between doing small group work and public demonstrations.  A public demonstration might reach more people, but a small group setting may allow for a more full understanding of the subject at hand.

Every volunteer is different though (I've learned that that can't be reiterated enough in Peace Corps).  Some hate doing one-on-one kinds of work, which I much prefer, and others like the mass meetings.  It's always interesting to me to see how other volunteers hold meetings and demonstrations with their community.  What they use for incentives, what they teach on, where and when they hold the demos, etc.

When a demonstration is done well it can have a rippling effect.  I once held a demonstration about making charcoal from old maize cobs, then two months after that demonstration - some 40 miles from where it was held - a man approached me and asked if I would do another demonstration like that in his community.  Word travelled fast and with it - interest.

Vaccinating Chickens To Buy Fish

The women's group that I work with - the Tukwatankane Women's Club - has been working incredibly hard since May to build a fishpond and then stock the pond for the raising and selling of fish.  However, one problem was that the women's club didn't have money to buy the required 300+ fingerlings.

The vaccine was mixed with water, put into syringes, and then placed in the chicken's mouth.

Due to this, I ran an idea by the women for a way that they could raise money to buy these fingerlings.  We would do this by buying a chicken vaccine, then selling doses of it to locals that were interested in vaccinating their chickens.

The vaccine was enough to treat 1,000 chickens.  Although only about 150 chickens were treated.  This was because not as many people were interested in vaccinating their chickens as we had hoped.

The vaccination cost about $4 to buy, with each of the women contributing just 30 cents apiece to buy the vaccination.  The women would then vaccinate chickens for the small price of five chickens for 20 cents.  It was incredibly cheap, which made it doable in a village setting.  Their vaccination was good for 1,000 chickens - which, if sold completely, would raise about $40.  

The illness that we were treating against was called Newcastle.  When Newcastle infects a chicken population it decimates the numbers - chickens die left and right, leaving no chickens alive in its wake.

Unfortunately, the women's club didn't vaccinate 1,000 chickens, instead about 150 chickens.  But, they did raise enough money to earn their investment back, and then some.  So for a very small investment the women now have raised enough money for 60 fish to put into their pond.

Here, Enedy is holding the chicken's mouth open, while Beauty is administering the vaccination.   The woman in the back is named Vivian.  All are members of the Tukwatankane Women's Club. 

Those fish will be delivered by the Department of Fisheries on Friday, November 15th.  The delivery of these fish mark the end of a long journey to this point.  But the women will have a fully functioning fish farm and after 6 months they'll be able to harvest, then eat and sell their fish.

After the vaccination the chickens were carried off and returned to their villages.

The Tukwatankane Women's Club

There's a women's club in my village that I've been working with for a few months now that consists of some of the some of the most physically imposing, strong willed and joyous women I've ever met.

They're great to work with, but it's been somewhat of a process getting to this point.

These women work incredibly hard day-in and day-out.  Working with them wears me out, so it's a good thing we work only a few days per week on the fish pond.

The group is called the Tukwatankane Women's Club. Tukwatankane means, "We're united" in the local language, and that's a fitting title as the group was formed to aid the members by improving the women's lives through creating more income through collaboration.

At first I didn't work with the group very much because they didn't seem serious.

Initially all they wanted was for me to teach them the same things that the volunteer before me had taught -- how to make fried pastries. I kept thinking that they weren't serious if they hadn't learned it the first time. What would change now?

About six months later they came to me and said they had a new idea: they wanted to build a fish pond. They had seen the production of my friend Mr. Nshimbi's fish pond (the first and, until then, the only in the area) and wanted to build their own. I responded, "Absolutely. We start tomorrow."

This was a project I could really get behind. We were going to build something we could all touch, stock it with fish to farm, then eat and sell our product. And, it would benefit the groups' members and their families through better nutrition and income generation.

The fish farm is constructed of earthen walls, and a lot of hard work.

I've learned during my time that to make the most positive change and assist those who really make a difference then working with women is the way to go. I was eager to get going.

We didn't start the next day though. Instead, we had to have a meeting with the whole group first to discuss how the project would be done. It should be noted that at the meeting, I became a member of the women's group -- the only male member.

Myself and the members of the Tukwatankane Women's Club.

After the meeting we went to work. We mapped out the pond and then began the laborious process of constructing a fish pond in Central Africa where hoes, strong backs and lots of hours of work must all come together to build a fish farm.

The actual structure is simple: earthen walls that slope down into the center. This slope is necessary so the fish will have an ideal place to breed and build nests.

The pond construction began at the end of May and some five months later it finished.  Now, we're planning on stocking the fish pond in mid-November.

But the construction of this is not as simple as its explanation.

About twice a week I join my fellow members in constructing the pond. Some women dig out the soil chucks, almost like sod, and pile it where the rest of us then form a line, pass the pieces to one another and place it along the wall.

I'm always last in the line because the women seem to believe I have an engineer's eye and build a better wall than most. It's the easiest job, which is also why I believe they gave it to me -- they don't think I can do the work.

Here, the women are constructing a "crib."  This structure will hold the food that they'll be giving to their fish.  An algae bloom will form due to the food they put in the pond, and this is what the fish will feed off of.

In truth I probably couldn't keep up if I were doing the digging. These women are far stronger than me. A couple of them look like they could be NFL fullbacks, and their resiliency is impressive. I don't have the mental or physical wherewithal.

So, they give me the easiest job and forced me to sit when they believe I must be tired. I love working with them -- they take care of me. They even help to pull me out of the knee-deep mud when my legs get stuck, which I hate to admit is about once every half an hour.

When the women are out there, away from husbands, they're free. They gossip, laugh and carry on without any worry. To them it isn't only about work; it's also their time for socializing.

Fish farming is a great way for rural Zambians to increase their livelihoods and food security.  This project has been one of my best so far during my two years of Peace Corps service, and the group has been one of my favorites to work with.

I don't understand a lot of what they say, but for me I'm happy to be out there in the bush, working with some tough "bamamas" and building a fish pond -- a fishpond that will bring improvements to their lives.

When VIPs Came To Town

It isn't a very common occurance to get someone from a government office to visit any of my projects, let alone the projects of villagers themselves: there isn't enough time, fuel, people, etc.  So when we recently had a visit by the District Commissioner (the top ranking government official in Mufumbwe District) and the Department of Agriculture and Cooperatives Officer (DACO) for the the district come to visit my site to see the work that I've been putting in with my community members.  A visit like this was kind of a big deal.

The District Commissioner, in yellow, was really excited and interested in the work of the local women's group to build their own fish pond.  Here, Mrs. Fubisha, in the pink hat, is explaining the work that they've completed so far to construct their pond.

The District Commissioner came to our community specifically to see the fish ponds that we've begun establishing about a mile and a half from my village.  She also wanted to see the bicycle plow that Mr. Nshimbi and I have been working on over the past year.

She was really excited that the women were wanting to better their lives through fish farming, because fish farming can improve income and food security in our community.

She was so impressed by the fish pond that the women's club I work with is building that she bought them two shovels to use in the final construction phase of their pond.  She also charged the DACO with the task of finding and delivering a wheelbarrow for them to use for the last bit of pond construction.

Both the DC and the DACO were really interested to see the bicycle plow. 

After viewing the fish ponds and discussing them with the community members we took her to use the bicycle plow in a nearby field.  She was really interested in the plow and kept saying how impressed she was by its ease of use.  She also kept saying that "this technology needs to be shared with more people."  

She later said that efforts like this will go a long way in helping rural farmers throughout Mufumbwe District to better their lives.

Hopefully efforts like this will go a long way to putting our community of Kamabuta more on the government's radar as far as helping the people in the future.  Every little thing can help.  Ultimately though it was an enormous honor for the people I work with to get a little bit of recognition and a visit from two of the highest ranking government officials in our district.

I've tried many times to get government officials from some of the varying agencies to come and work with my community, but her visit was by far the best.  Not only did it happen, but she's a very important and busy woman.

From You, To Me, To Them

Last month I received a box of 50 mosquito nets from the local health outpost.  It only took 3 and a half months for the nets to arrive after I had first requested them, but after all that time I at least had them (I originally requested 150, but resources here are scare, so I had to settle).

The nets had to be picked up by using my bicycle from the local health outpost.  About 2.5 miles away.

I originally wanted the 150 nets so that I could distribute them to my village and the next 6 or 7 closest villages, but with only 50 nets I had to settle for my village and the neighboring 2.

I was happy to see US tax dollars put to work through the purchase of these nets.

Although the nets came from the Zambian Government's Ministry of Health they were purchased for distribution by the United States Agency for International Development, which helps to subsidize the costs of malaria medicines, HIV/AIDS medications and training sessions, as well as these mosquito nets - amongst many other things.  Without the support of this agency and the American taxpayer many public health projects around the globe would never be able properly operate.  USAID's slogan is "From the American People."  These nets were essentially from you, to me, to them.  

I had a community meeting / demonstration for my village and the 2 neighboring villages where I distributed the nets.

The distribution program that I used the nets for was actually thought up by a neighbor of mine, Jarrod. He has two young children and was worried that malaria would make them ill during the upcoming rainy season, so he asked if we could do some malaria education and pass out nets.  I said, "Absolutely."  Malaria kills an enormously high percentage of children in Zambia, especially those between 1 to 5 years of age, and I desperately want to curb that in some way - even if that's only in my small village.

People were taught how to mend torn nets and how to properly hang the nets inside their homes.  My neighbor Amy, a new health volunteer, helped to teach the hanging portion of the program.

The program was pretty straight forward.  I invited people from 3 villages (especially mothers of small children) and had them come to learn how to mend torn nets, hang the nets, and tuck them under their mattresses to prevent mosquitos from entering as they sleep.

Volunteers like this woman, Dorini, helped to clarify any questions that people had about their nets.

After the program each member of a household received one mosquito net.  I wrote down their names, number of children, and which village they lived in.  After a week I will check to make sure the net is properly hung and being used in the home.  Then after 3 months I'll do a second follow-up visit where if the net is still being used correctly I'll take their photo, print it, and post it at the local health center as a kind of "wall of fame."

Little Lukatazho

There’s a little boy here in my village that I decided one night I just had to write about. His name is Justin Kyumisha and he’s 6 years old, but I have nicknamed him Lukatazho, which in the local language, Kaonde, means “problem.”

I’ve dubbed him this because after my first two months in the village I noticed he was constantly filthy, rambunctious without fail, and his pants — his pants — were always falling down or on backwards, or both. But he was sporting a big smile every minute of every day.

Very rarely do I ever see Lukatazho sad or down.  Usually he's showing his teeth in a big grin.

Getting to know him more, I’ve found that the kid is just wild. Not in a bad way, but in the kind of way a kid should be, and because of this he’s easily one of my favorites in the village.

Now well into my second year, there are still kids that are terrified of me, as in they go out of their way to avoid seeing me — but not little Lukatazho.

He does what he wants, when he wants. He loves to wander into my hut while I’m writing and stand there, well inside my personal space, staring at the pictures above my desk. He’s not much taller than the desk, so the pictures are about the only things he can really see. But, he’ll stand there for as long as I’ll let him — just looking.

Other times, his willingness to go his own way causes problems.

For instance, the other day his mom ordered him to take a bath. Instead of using clean water, he walked to the nearby well and began bathing in the runoff water from that, which had collected in a muddy hole.

I wish I knew why I like him so much, but I don’t. When I think about he and I we’re really not alike at all. I’m 21 years older, we can barely communicate to one another (he speaks no English and I speak broken, rudimentary Kaonde) and he even makes my job more difficult. He’s a whirlwind of destructive force.

Repeatedly I’ve seen him rip up by their roots seedlings that I’ve planted with the community for no other reason than enjoyment. He’s a little devil, a little problem, but for some reason we get along and I still like the kid.

This picture almost perfectly sums up my relationship with Lukatazho... as I'm trying to write he comes up to me without regard for what I'm working on and does what he does best - anything he wants.

In fact, I like him so much that we recently made up a handshake. I figure what 6-year-old doesn’t enjoy a good secret handshake? 

Having him around, though, is a constant reminder of how hard, even cruel, life can be here. Not only does Lukatazho sport a big smile, but he also sports a big swollen belly — the kind that comes from malnutrition.

That malnutrition has lead to his physical stunting. And due to this malnutrition his body is slow to fight off illnesses.

In February, Lukatazho nearly died from being infected with malaria. He spent four days in the local clinic under intense supervision.

When he did return, it was on the back of a bicycle, in a rainstorm, with only a thin cloth to protect him — he looked absolutely miserable. I felt terrible for him, but he was alive.

A few days later he was smiling again and back to his normal antics.

Lately he’s been doing a lot of dancing. He’ll hike his pants way up, put a hand on his hip, and start dancing around — kicking up a storm of dust. All this is done while I’m trying to read during the midday heat, and nearly every time he manages to make me stop reading and laugh.

Whenever I leave this village for good I’ll have a few very special people that I’ll think back upon and know my time here wouldn’t have been so wonderful without. I’ll think of them for years and years I’m sure. Justin “Lukatazho” Kyumisha is one of them.

Although the youngest, the smallest, and the one with the most problems wearing his pants correctly, he’s the one that has made me laugh the most without speaking a single English word.

Mr. Nshimbi And The Bike Plow

This is a video of Mr. Nshimbi, one of my favorite people here, using the bike plow.  Towards the end he's talking about how people will view him as a teacher because he's the first to use the bike plow.

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.