Livingstone Shenanigans PART I

I got a call from Ndandula, my good friend in Lusaka, earlier this month, during which she hit me with a proposition. She and two of her friends were making a road trip down to Livingstone, Zambia, over the week of Christmas, where they planned to bounce around to Botswana, Namibia and Zimbabwe (all three countries border Zambia near Livingstone). She wanted to know if I wanted to join them, thus posing somewhat of a dilemma for me.

You see, I am the biggest fan that road trips ever had. It’s great to move around, see new places and experience new things. I hadn’t been able to travel around as much as I would have liked to since arriving, so the opportunity to jump a few borders was appealing. And the day to day grind of running multiple businesses in sub-Saharan Africa had led me to the brink of insanity, so getting out of Siavonga would surely be beneficial to my mental health. Finally, as it’s been all work and very little play for me for some time I felt the strong need to engage in shenanigans of some type.

On the downside, if I went on the trip I wouldn’t be able to spend Christmas with my Namumu family, and something about ditching orphans on Christmas made me feel pretty terrible. I’d miss the Namumu Christmas Feast and the worship services.

I tossed and turned over this one for a few nights, believe me, but in the end I decided to hit the road. I packed my bags, told all my Namumu nieces and nephews that I loved them very much and that I’d miss them, and hopped a bus to meet the group in Lusaka. And, despite the occasional pangs of guilt I’ve felt during the week, I haven’t looked back. It was a very, very good week.

Shenanigans did indeed ensue. Some occurrences were funny, some were scary, and some are certainly not suitable for public consumption. Here are some of the highlights:

In order to get down to Livingstone from Siavonga, you have to take a minibus up to Lusaka, Zambia’s capital, first. Lusaka is where Ndandula (girl), Mwenya (girl) and Mucho (boy), my fellow road-trippers, live and work, so I headed up on a Saturday morning to spend the day and night there with them before setting off on Sunday for Livingstone. The vacation kicked off quite well as that night we hit up a Zambian karaoke bar in the city. I wish I had more time to delve into this mind-blowing experience, but I will say that performing Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing” in front of a packed house in a dingy Lusaka bar and receiving an incredible crowd response may have been one of the proudest moments of my life.

The next day we hopped on a big chartered bus to get to Livingstone, which, luckily, unlike the minibuses, don’t require you to ride in the fetal position for hours on end while listening to crappy bootlegged African pop music that the drivers like to blast full volume. It was a pleasant seven hour journey. Plus, they played “Blood Diamond”, starring Leo Dicaprio, on the overhead TVs, a good (albeit violent) movie that I would recommend checking out. You know, I’ve spent a lot of time with some of these white fishing camp owners around Siavonga, some of whom were pushed out of Zimbabwe (like Leo in the movie) or have come up from South Africa. Let me tell you something, they got Leo’s character down perfectly. From the accent to the brash demeanor to the chain smoking, most of these guys are exactly like that. Way to go on that one, Leo. So anyway, again, it’s pretty violent, but it poses some interesting questions about Africa and what we in the US can or can’t do to help, so check it out.

Once in Livingstone, we set up shop at a small, relatively inexpensive lodge in the city that primarily caters to back-packer types moving about in southern Africa. The rooms were tiny and there was a central courtyard with a large grassy area, trees and a pool, so it was easy to make friends as everybody usually just hung out in the courtyard. I sure met some characters at this place. There was Dennis, a middle-aged man from the UK who has bicycled all over Africa, competes in triathalons on a regular basis and did yoga in the lodge’s courtyard daily. There was Carolla, a German woman living in Canada who is looking into setting up an orphanage in Zambia somewhere. There were a few Peace Corp volunteers and your average vacationers.

But, I’d have to say that the coolest people I met were Josh and Nicole, a young married couple from the US of A. Nicole was in the Peace Corp in Ethiopia and Josh, a carpenter, lived there with her for a year. They met on the Appalachian Trail, as Josh was hiking the entire thing and Nicole was hiking a short stretch with some friends. Now, though, they’ve bicycled down from Ethiopia and are on their way to Cape Town, South Africa. What a couple of maniacs. They were kind and friendly and fun to be around. I got to chat with them about life, love and Africa. Josh inspired me to hike the AT when I get back to the US and to grow a longer beard like his was (saw a picture, it was large and in-charge, and Nicole still fell in love with him anyways...it brings joy to my heart to know that such women are indeed out there). They both inspired me to travel around Africa a bit more.

So, we ended up spending all of our nights at this lodge and just moved around during the day.

I’ll end Part I with an animal encounter I experienced at the beautiful Victoria Falls on day one.

Livingstone is home to Victoria Falls, a very large, very powerful, very beautiful group of waterfalls. The Falls are a very popular tourist destination, one of the biggest draws to Livingstone, Zambia’s tourism capital. Rightfully so. The size of the Falls is unbelievable. I’d had the opportunity to see them the last time I was in Zambia, but they are without a doubt worth seeing again and again.

Our group went to see the Falls on our first morning in Livingstone. It was a warm, sunny day and the mist from the Falls felt wonderful. We walked along the narrow path to all the small viewing areas. We sat and stared, took pictures and engaged in other such touristy activities. Down beneath the Falls there’s an area known as the Boiling Point, where the water rushes down and churns as though it’s boiling, before it flows away down the river. I had heard it was nice and convinced our group to head down the long path to check it out.

So, we meandered down the narrow, steep path, surrounded by trees and bushes on either side. The path is set a ways away from the other viewing areas and I’m not sure everyone who comes to the Falls knows about it, so we were the only ones there. We made it to the bottom, sat and watched the water for a while, and then headed back up the hill.

As we continued trudging up the path we began to spot a number of baboons of all shapes and sizes, roaming around nearby, no less than 10 or 12, I’d say. Hmm, I thought. That’s interesting. I didn’t see any baboons around the last time I was here. They were running around and making very, very loud monkey noises. Maybe they’re fighting, maybe they’re having sex, maybe we’re in their territory and they’re pissed off, who knows? I thought.

As we got a little higher we noticed a baboon of medium build laying down and staring off into space, smack dab in the middle of the path. Ok, I thought. Let’s not annoy this guy. Let’s just wait for a hot second until he moves, I told my group. So we waited.

Shortly thereafter, a group of around 5 large baboons started convening around 20 meters down the hill, right around the path below us, thus cutting off our only means of escape (at this point on the path there were rock faces to either side of us). It felt like we had been led into their clever little monkey trap and that they were going to pounce on and eat us.

Now, Victoria Falls is a touristy area. Part of me said, you know what, this is ridiculous. These animals have to be tame and peaceful. There’s no way that the people running this place would let wild and crazy animals run around near tourists. We should just walk right up to it and go around it or shoo it away, this part said. After all, I’ve gone out for long periods of time into the bush around Namumu. I’ve been pretty close to baboons out there. I can handle myself.

But you know what? I’d seen/heard of so many ridiculous things happening in southern Africa that the other part of me realized that a brutal monkey attack would not be outside the realm of possibility.

So we stood there and waited. And waited. And waited.

Around 30 minutes later a group of young girls came bouncing around the corner, down the path. The baboon in the path hopped up and immediately ran away. We looked back and the monkeys at the bottom of the hill had gone too. Just like that. No noise. No animosity. Nothing. Our fears were thus proven completely and totally baseless. By young girls.

In order to live with myself I’ve convinced myself that the girls never saw any of the baboons, that if they had they would have done exactly what we had been doing, that they were in fact no braver than we were.

Please don’t try to convince me otherwise.

Siavonga Christmas

The Christmas Season is upon us, but not much has changed here in Siavonga. There aren’t too many preparations going on that I can see.

But I did watch “Love Actually” the other day to get myself into a Christmas mood, and now I’m happy to say that I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes.

Though I did have to watch it alone...and cried to myself when Colin Firth proposed to Just-In-Cases girl...and in no way is that depressing. Ah, I really need to get out more.

Schools have been on break for the past few weeks and won’t be opening again until January. During these breaks, a number of Namumu’s resident children go off to stay with other relatives in the surrounding villages for a while. A few stick around. Right now, there are around 20 boys and 10 girls staying at Namumu over the break. With the numbers down it’s a lot quieter than usual around here.

I’ve been asking around, trying to get an idea of how people typically celebrate Christmas here and have gotten some interesting responses.

There’s a significant Seventh Day Adventist population here, and as they choose not to celebrate Jesus’ birthday on the 25th that whole group does absolutely nothing. What a bummer that must be.

As for the rest, there isn’t a great deal of gift-giving on Christmas day, as most are living in abject poverty and are struggling to get by. Also a bummer.

Most people do upgrade their meals at least, splurging on chicken or beef to go along with the ever-popular nsima, feasting together as families. So that’s nice.

Besides feasting, most non-SDA church goers spend much of the season worshipping in their respective churches. They sing and dance and eat and have a good ol’ time. Many congregations stay up all night Christmas Eve and worship all the way through Christmas day. So that’s nice, too.

As for my little Namumu nieces and nephews remaining here for the holiday, they’ll be getting a nice little Christmas feast, as is their usual custom. They’ll eat some beef, chicken, nice bread and lots and lots of cookies.

And a local fishing company owner contacted me the other day and informed me that the Siavonga Rotary Club, of which he is a member, would like to make a contribution to Namumu by buying small gifts for the children. It’s nice to know that even in Siavonga there are people looking after these children.

So there’s your Christmas update from Siavonga. I hope it finds you well and in the holiday spirit and that you all have a wonderful Christmas.

The King of Kapenta

I’ve given my right-hand kapenta fishing man, Mubita, a shout out here and there, but I certainly haven’t given enough credit where credit is due. This guy is indispensible.

Jobs in the kapenta fishing industry are rarely 5 day/40 hour a week jobs. Mubita’s is no exception. When we are fishing locally and parking our boats at the nearby harbor, Mubita is there every single afternoon to see the boats off, making sure they are ready to go, and he’s there every single morning when the boats come in, weighing and selling the catches, recording the sales and inspecting both boats.

When our guys are camped out at Chirundundike Island, Mubita is there, supervising it all and keeping our fishermen in line.

During the full moon breaks, while our fishermen are all off duty, Mubita is working with me nearly every day, planning for the coming month, arranging maintenance work and making reports.

It’s not uncommon for us to work together every day of the month without a single day off.

And you know what’s interesting? He has never complained. He loves to work. I’ve even tried to force him to take a few days off recently and he’s flat out refused, because there’s work to be done.

And still, for all his efforts, Mubita’s salary remains well below the average industry wage for his position. And, on top of that, he doesn’t get the respect he deserves from the Namumu Management Team. He’s more or less treated like a second class citizen. It’s a real shame.

But don’t worry, I tell him how awesome he is from time to time to keep his spirits afloat. If you want to tell him how awesome he is just drop a comment and I’ll deliver the message.

Mubita lives in a small, one-room home with burned brick walls and a grass roof. He’s got a cute little wife who cooks for him every night. He has an “I Love Jesus” baseball cap that he wears nearly every day. Obviously, Mubita doesn’t live a lavish lifestyle, but I still think he’s doing alright.

In his spare time Mubita really likes to read. I’m proud to say that, in addition to his daily Bible reading he is a member of the Namumu Book Club. He’s getting really into the Hardy Boys series. Thanks to my friend, Sylvia, the Namumu library contains around a bazillion Hardy Boys books (was that guy Dixon writing all day every day of his life?), so Mubita should be busy with that for a while. The other day, while we were working on the boats, he gave me a full on play by play of “The Hardy Boys: Camp Death” or something like that, which took over an hour. Can’t say it sounded like my cup of tea, but I’m glad he’s enjoying it.

I’ve fielded a number of requests for prayer requests. Today, pray that God will give Mubita the strength to carry on under the present conditions, because Namumu got more than they bargained for with him. Let’s hope he sticks around.

Chicken Slayer

Remember way back in July, when Tom from Texas guest-posted about his stay here and the curse of Pedro the Chicken?

Well, meet Pedro, my first African kill and the cause of a number of subsequent misfortunes for the crew from Texas.

Man, I love this picture. A number of people from church and elsewhere have asked me to send back a picture of me in Africa. Even though this was taken a while back and I look much more skuzzy/Chuck Norrisy/different now, this is how I’d like to be thought of and remembered back home in the US. Sam the Chicken Slayer.

Kapenta Camp

Here is a scene from the Namumu Kapenta Fishing Team’s home away from home, the camp at Chirundundike Island.

This was taken in the early morning as the boats were just arriving. Here the kapenta catches are being weighed before they are taken to the drying racks.

Each blue crate you see can hold around 50 kgs of fresh kapenta. Back in September, Namumu’s record-breaking month of fishing, these guys would come back with as many as 10 or 11 crates filled to the brim on each rig. During a bad month, there are times when both boats combined might come back with less than one crate between them. It’s a business with a good deal of variation and there ain’t much you can do about it. Every single fishing company on Lake Kariba is at the mercy of the weather and kapenta breeding habits.

Still, even during the worst months Namumu’s Fishing Team has squeezed out a comfortable profit.

Kapenta fishing is Namumu’s big money-maker, so pray that the work can continue to operate successfully and support the institution as a whole.

Oh, and Chuck, do you see that net in the background? That’s my boat.

Hurray, Pictures! Part II

Meet Owen, one of the boys currently enrolled in our Carpentry Training Program.

Owen got off to a rough start at the beginning of his training. At first it took a bit of prodding to get him out to the workshop every day. He received his fair share of George Lyle ear-flicks. On what was supposed to be the first day of his training I found him in the boys’ dormitory laying out on his bed in the early afternoon spread out, face down, out cold, asleep. What a lazy bum. This was a common theme for his first week of training.

Fortunately, the George Lyle Tough Love School of Discipline paid off and Owen’s attendance has improved. In fact, in November, it was near perfect. I think he only missed one afternoon for some school activity. He’s doing well and seems to be genuinely enjoying his work. He even seemed upset when I recently explained to him that this phase of his training would be ending at the end of the month of December.

Here he is at the beginning of his training working on a small bench, one of his initial, simple projects. Since this time he has made major contributions to the production of bed frames, tables and chairs.

We’ll be sure to keep on Owen so that he doesn’t relapse into his lazy ways...

Hurray, Pictures! Part I

Well folks, I figured it was time to mix things up a bit this week, but after battling it out with my camera, my computer and the Namumu Internet connection I only have two photos to share. I’d post more but my goodness these took a long time to load. I’ll try to get you some more soon. Enjoy:

I faced a real dilemma in getting you a picture of my little next-door neighbor, Junior. Now, I can’t very well go around posting pictures of naked children on the internet. However, in order to capture one of the rare moments when he’s actually wearing pants I’d probably have to stake out his house for weeks.

My solution? This tasteful little number here. Here’s Junior, on the right, next to Royd, his older cousin who also lives next door, sitting on my front porch, a place where I’ve spent hours upon hours sitting, eating, sleeping, reading and day-dreaming. I think I had just finished reading the ever-popular “Berenstein Bears” with Royd, though here he’s holding some other children’s book. Here you see Junior trying to get a handle on Ernest Hemingway’s “Snows of Kilimanjaro”. He had a tough time with it, so I think we’ll wait a few years and then get him started with the “Berenstein Bears”, too.

Speaking of Junior, I had an interesting realization the other day.

His mother and other relatives often call him “Tata”, the literal Tonga translation of which is “Father”. It’s actually a pretty common nickname for little guys like him. So, naturally, I started calling him “Tata” as well from time to time.

These days, Junior is doing his fair share of talking, and one of the first things he’s learned to say is “Tata”. Whenever I’d say “Tata” to him he’d say it back to me. Then, not long thereafter, he’d start yelling “Tata” at me all the time to get my attention.

For a while I just figured he was yelling that out at me because he didn’t know any other words to yell, but then I started to really think about it...

I think it’s quite possible that Junior thinks I’m his actual father. Yikes.

It actually make sense. His real father, the brother to Jailas, Namumu’s Administration Manager that lives next door, is enrolled in some schooling program in another part of the country and hasn’t been around much for the first months of Junior’s life. I’ve spent a fair amount of time with the family next door and therefore with Junior as well. I’ve helped feed him and put him to bed. When I come home from work one of the first things I do is throw down my bag and play around with him. He may very well be calling my “Father” on purpose.

Man, oh man, I don’t know how I’ll handle this one. I suppose I should take care of it soon before it becomes a major point of confusion in his life. I wouldn’t want his mother to eventually have to deal with his inevitable question of, “You mean I’m gonna stay this color?”

In the meantime, let me clear up any rumors before they get out. Even though he may say that I am the one, the kid is not my son.

Taken way back in April, this photo documents one of our first bean harvests at Namumu (the handfuls of beans here are just a sample).

From left to right you see Chuck Norris, Clivert aka the Sweater, Kabuba aka Mabboli aka Eye Booger, Lucky (yes, that’s his real name) aka Mabisi aka Sour Milk, Nancy aka Mrs. Jealousy and Jailas, Namumu’s Administration Manager, who appears to be taking a nap.

Yes, I’m proud to say that I contributed to the nick-naming of every child just mentioned.

Ahhh, these were the good ol’ days, before cows and water pipe failures destroyed our beautiful gardens. Hopefully soon we’ll get them back soon...

Incoherent Rainy Season Ramblings

The rainy season has officially begun here in Zambia, which has led to a few interesting changes in my life.

Most importantly, it has cooled things down quite a bit, which has made me considerably less miserable throughout each and every day.

Unfortunately, however, the onset of rains has forced me to change my sleeping arrangements.

For a while there, like many of my local Zambians I was sleeping outside on my porch every night (yes, mom, under a mosquito net). Inside it was feeling a bit too much like a sauna for me, which, though lovely after a good hard workout is not so lovely when one is trying to get a good night's sleep. So, every night I would set up my little area, putting out a mattress and sheets under the net, and every morning I would move it all back inside. It was a pain at first, but after daily practice I got so I could do it with NASCAR pit-crew like precision and speed.

It was very, very nice being able to lay back and stare at the stars, thinking about life before drifting off to sleep, and to feel the breeze throughout the night.

Now, however, it rains at night from time to time, so in an effort to stay dry I’ve had to pack up and move inside.

Although, the rain isn’t the only reason I’ve moved my bed inside. Much to my chagrin, the rainy season has brought with it a new slew of insects, most notably scorpions. As a matter of fact, I just killed a small one with my shoe a few short minutes ago. Wow, those things are ugly and terrifying, and as much as I’d like to wake up in a bed full of them like that chick from Charlie Sheen’s “The Arrival” (awesome movie by the way, if you’re into unintentional comedy) I figured I’d better pack things up and sleep inside from now on.

Speaking of insects, I was surprised the other day to see many of my little Namumuans chasing, catching and stockpiling a certain type of winged insect. I saw them doing it in the late afternoon the other day and assumed that these insects did something cool, perhaps lighting up at night like fireflies.

No, no, they were catching them so that they could fry them and eat them. Yikes. They keep trying to get me to try them too. Double yikes.

Otherwise, things are just swell here at Namumu.

Junior has been out of town with his mother for a few days, so I haven’t been pooped on lately, which is nice.

Wendy is on book number five with me. I’ve gotten her going on Orson Scott Card’s “Ender’s Game”, one of my all-time favorites. It’s science fiction, so I had my doubts as to how she’d handle it, but luckily Wendy is nerdy enough to enjoy it.

Mubita, my trusty kapenta fishing rig foreman has been in rough shape lately. His hands and feet have swollen up so badly that he hasn’t been able to walk or even hold a pen in his hand. He’s tried to convince me that somebody must have dropped a Black Magic spell on him or something of the sort (I’ve heard a number of people blame their illnesses on something similar). I told him that regardless of the cause, I’d ask people to pray for him. So, if you could, go ahead and pray for Mubita to heal up soon, for my sake as well, because it’s tough doing my job without him.

Speaking of fishing, I was out on the lake fishing with our guys the other night and on the way out we spotted a big ol’ hippopotamus. A very big ol’ hippopotamus, actually. It was out roaming around and eating on a small island out on the lake. It was a hungry hungry hippo indeed.

Oh, and back to the rain, that same night fishing we got absolutely pounded by a storm, and while there is a small tin roof covering the deck of the boat we still got gooshed.

There was a little bit of stinging rain, big ol’ fat rain, rain that flew in sideways, and sometimes the rain even seemed to come up from underneath.

So, not a very fun night, but an interesting experience nonetheless.

Well, that’s about all I got for now. Thanks to all that have posted comments and sent me emails recently, I’ve enjoyed them all. Holler at me any time...

Training our little Namumu-ans (Namumu-ites? Namum-ans?)

The Official Namumu Carpentry and Welding Training Program is up and running smoothly these days. Finally.

Here’s the thing. These kids won’t be staying at Namumu forever. When they turn 18 and finish school they will be expected to move out of the Orphanage. They’ll be out, living with other relatives or perhaps on their own. Obviously, it’s important for Namumu to help them gain the knowledge and skills necessary to prepare them for post-Namumu life.

And that’s why we have started programs like this carpentry and welding training for some selected children. Carpenters and Welders don’t make too much money around here. Most just eek out a living. But, in a developing country plagued by unemployment, both are still jobs that pay the bills. While we’d like all our Namumu children to grow up to be doctors or lawyers or scientists or journalists, it probably won’t happen. Hence, we have this program.

In our carpentry and welding operations we have a senior carpenter and a senior welder, both with assistants. In the past we’ve encouraged certain children to stop by the workshop whenever they are free to learn a thing or two. Some actually got pretty good. But we never really had a formal training system in place. Not one that lasted, anyway. Things were never really organized well and therefore the training wasn’t as effective as it could be.

Now, I know that putting together a simple training program for a few children sounds incredibly simple. Many of you may even be wondering why it has taken so long to get things like this going. In fact, if I was reading this from back home, I know I’d be wondering that myself.

Well, there were a number of obstacles for starting this program in particular, most of which are difficult to foresee if you’ve never lived in southern Africa. I think that by looking at this program in particular it gives you a good idea about what general obstacles we face here and what will and won’t work.

So here’s why it took so long...

First of all, we’re dealing with kids here. The ones we are training are in the 12 to 16 age range. Like many early teens all over the world, these children can be very difficult to keep in line, with short attention spans and wavering interests. Maybe they felt like doing carpentry yesterday but have changed their mind today. Maybe today they want to be something else. Or maybe they don’t feel like doing anything at all. Even though they are growing up and maturing (most of them, anyway), they are still children and it can be difficult to keep them on track.

And, given the fact that they are all living at an Orphanage, it’s not like I can call up their parents and ask them to get their children in line. Both the boys and girls have a caretaker, but that’s not quite the same.

Secondly, there’s the issue of time. Time is treated differently here in Africa. It’s one of the first things you notice when you get here. Nobody is on a tight schedule. Church services that are scheduled to begin around 10 am usually start around 10:30 or even 11. Sometimes they might start around 10, but who knows. It’s totally unpredictable. Nobody knows and nobody seems to care much. It’s just the way it is.

So, setting up a system where children come at 2 pm after school and work until 5 pm is doomed to failure. It will never happen. Schedules just don’t exist.

Third, there’s the fact that their school schedules are ridiculous here. Because the Namumu Community School caters to grades 1 through 7, and because there are only 4 classrooms, they have a staggered schedule. And not only that, sometimes their schedules shift throughout the year. And not only that, sometimes the teachers set things up in the afternoons where the children have to come back to the school to clean it up.

Needless to say, setting up a training program around the school system is not easy.

Finally, there are limitations to what can and can’t be done at our carpentry and welding workshop. It is not a big workshop. In fact, it’s really not much of a workshop at all. There are a few tables and benches set up underneath two small tin-roof shelters. There are a limited number of tools. Namumu is always financially strapped and this is probably the way the workshop will stay. This puts a limit on how many children can be taught and how effective that teaching can be.

So, there you go, that’s what we’re dealing with.

Now, instead of going into all the wrong ways we’ve tried to set up a program, I’ll just go ahead and tell you the way we’ve got things now. The right way.

At the moment we’ve got 2 boys training in carpentry and 1 training in welding. At first, Namumu Management pushed for more children to be taught at once, but this way has been much more effective. With small numbers they get the individual attention that they wouldn’t get if they were part of a big group.

This small group will only be training for 3 months, at which point their skills will be evaluated. After that, we will start with another small group. Three months is enough time for them to pick up the basic skills that they need but is short enough of a time period that the guys can remain focused and motivated throughout. There’s an end in sight and gives them something to work towards.

There is no set schedule. They are simply expected to come over to the workshop in the afternoons whenever they aren’t at the school. If they can only make it for 30 minutes or an hour, that’s fine, as long as they make it over. They are expected to be there every week day unless they have a good excuse.

As for enforcement, I’ve happily taken on that roll. I do a little patrol every afternoon, walking around to the boys’ dormitory to make sure they aren’t just lazing around and giving them a George Lyle Ear Flick if they are. Kebby, the boys’ caretaker, is on patrol as well. We had some problems at first, but now they’ve caught on and usually get over without my prodding.

So, there it is, the program is up and running. Our carpentry and welding guys are doing a great job with the children. They’ve already learned a lot. While it may be just a small accomplishment, it’s still a step in the right direction.

Muleya's Birthday Party

I got to attend a nice little birthday party last weekend. Well, I guess you could call it a birthday party. Whatever it was, it was fun.

Muleya, my little next door neighbor and sister of the infamous (infamous means MORE than famous) Junior the Pooper, was turning five. Birthdays aren’t that big of a deal ‘round these parts, but people do take note of them and sometimes celebrate.

So, I figured, what better way to celebrate than by slaughtering a live animal? I dropped some money on Chealo, Muleya’s 18 year old cousin, and got her to pick up a big ol’ chicken at the local market for supper. Chickens aren’t that expensive. We got a big one for K20,000, about US $4. Still, you have to keep in mind that Zambia is one of the world’s poorest countries and many can’t afford to eat chicken on a regular basis, so it’s a nice treat.

As usual, I insisted that I be the one to do the slaughtering. Having financed the purchasing of the bird I didn’t feel out of line in doing so. So, I sliced it up and gave it over to Chealo to cook up.

Oh boy, what a party. We sat out on mats on the ground in the back yard and ate chicken and nsima and cabbage. We talked and laughed and threw food at each other. It was a clear, breezy night and the stars were out and in full effect. The cows were mooing and serenading us in the background.

The party suffered a minor setback when the birthday girl, walking around with her chicken in her hand, tripped and dropped her chicken in the sand. Man, she started bawling. I told her that it was ok, that it was her party and she could cry if she wanted to.

So, all in all it wasn’t that different from most other nights here. They usually eat outside like that and I often join them. But we did get to eat a big ol’ chicken, and that was nice. In a way I felt like I was back home at Two-For Tuesday.

So that was the “party”.

Later on we were sitting around and chatting, and we started talking about Christmas. They asked me what we did at Christmas time in the US. So I told them. I asked them what they did for Christmas here. One of the girls looked at me and said quite matter-of-factly, “Well, Sam, pretty much exactly what we’re doing right now,” ie. sitting around and not doing much of anything. She didn’t say it in a negative way. Just stating the facts.

I’ve come to find out that most churches have a lot going on around Christmas time, but, for the most part, it sounds like there won’t be a whole lot going on different from the usual.

That’s how it goes out here in Siavonga. There ain’t much changing from day to day.

And you know what? That’s a-ok with me. Give me a little chicken here and there and I’ll do just fine.

Chuck Norris No More

An interesting shift occurred recently without my realizing it.

It all became apparent as I was strolling through the streets of Lusaka last week. Edwin Luneta, the Namumu Finance Manager, Zenzo, Namumu’s Assistant Accountant, and I were there to take care of a few items of business. They were submitting a quarterly report to a big Namumu donor organization and I was renewing Namumu’s fishing license.

As we walked here and there throughout the city something very strange happened. My hair is a bit longer now and my beard a bit bushier and this time, for the first time, not one person called my Chuck Norris. No, no, they all called me something else. This time I heard, “Hey! It’s Jesus!” no fewer than 10 times. No joke.

The strange thing is that it wasn’t a slow shift from one name to the other. I mean, I would have anticipated that maybe the number of people shouting that I look like Chuck Norris would slowly decline and the number of people shouting that I look like Jesus would slowly increase. No, it was a sudden shift from one to the other.

So, as I see it, somewhere along the line I instantaneously transformed from looking like Chuck Norris to looking like Jesus (or, at least, what people in Zambia think that Jesus looked like).

Go figure.

I’ve got to say, one thing I’m very much enjoying about my life in Zambia is the opportunity it has afforded me to, for the most part, show a blatant disregard for my outward appearance.

Namumu is in a very rural area. Needless to say, most of the people in the surrounding villages don’t put too much effort into getting dolled up every morning. Most everyone’s wardrobe options are pretty limited. It’s common to see people wearing the same shirt every day, or to rotate between two outfits every other day. This isn’t true for everyone, there are definitely some sharp dressers, but it’s true for a good number.

So, all this goes to say that I can get away with looking like crap some of the time and that makes me happy.

But don’t worry, folks, I keep myself put together for the most part. Esther Namuyamba (Munjongo’s wife) makes sure of that. She gives me a hard time if my hair isn’t combed or if my pants are dirty. Some days when I know I’m looking skuzzy and I see her coming I have to duck around the corner so she won’t see me. But don’t tell her I said that.

So, there you have it, apparently my appearance has changed quite a bit since I’ve been here. I can only imagine what they’ll be calling me in Lusaka if I’m still here walking around a few months from now…

A Zack Morris Wannabe and a Science Nerd

Zambia is a beautiful country and a wonderful place to live. Let me start with that.

Still, it is a developing country and, as a result, life within it can be filled with frustration after frustration. Corrupt government leaders, underperforming schools, lack of infrastructure, it all adds up to one big headache.

But every now and then I see something that makes me hopeful for the future. Just recently two particular cases have stood out in my mind.

First, there’s Eric. Eric is a bright young chap who lives just down the road from Namumu. He is around 10 and is a student at the Namumu Community School. In fact, his father is the hippo-slaying Zambia Wildlife Official I mentioned in a blog way back.

A few weeks ago, while on a supply run to Lusaka for Namumu’s carpentry workshop, I ran into Eric’s father in the city. He was carrying two giant bags packed with candy and Jiggies, flavored corn chips that are very popular among the children of the region.

I laughed and asked him if he was trying to fatten up his family. No, he told me, the bags were not for the family. They were for Eric.

Apparently, a few months ago Eric did some work for a neighbor, clearing away a large area for planting, and was paid K10,000 (around US$2.00). Instead of immediately blowing that money on toys/candy/some other useless junk, Eric took the K10,000 and decided to start his own little business venture. Keep in mind, this is a 10 year old.

He started small, buying just one bag of candy. Then, like a little African Zack Morris, Eric sold the candy amongst his friends from school, turning a small profit. He then took his earnings and reinvested it all, buying even more candy and a few packs of Jiggies, again selling them to his friends.

The cycle continued and now, a few months later, as his father travels to Lusaka to pick up his monthly paycheck he buys candy in bulk and transports it back for Eric to sell.

It’s oh so common in this world, and especially in Zambia, for people to live beyond their means, living off credit and on the verge of financial disaster. It’s nice to know that kids like Eric are around and are thinking ahead and showing an entrepreneurial flair. I think that boy has a bright future.

Then there’s Saliya, age 12, who lives in the house just next door to me (with Junior the Pooper). Saliya is also very bright and just the other day demonstrated to me that the schools around here are actually teaching a thing or two.

Most days, when I finish work at a reasonable hour, I wander over to my home and sit around on the front porch or in the back yard, reading or chatting or watching the sunset behind the nearby Baobab tree. Recently, Saliya, who also happens to be one of my loyal readers, has taken to firing question after question at me on topics ranging from US History to World Geography to Science to Medicine. She has a very active mind.

Actually, I’m not really sure if she doesn’t know the answers and wants to hear them from me or if she does know the answers and wants to test me. Either way, she keeps them coming.

The other day we had a chat about the positions of the planets, rotation vs. revolution and the history of the universe (you know, the light and casual conversations that everyone has in the late afternoons after work).

Much to my surprise, Saliya had a pretty good grasp on all of it. She then proceeded to tell me all about energy, and about the differences between, gravitational, potential and kinetic energy (which I already knew about because I was a physics teacher…no big deal).

It made me happy to see that there are some sharp kids around here, even if Saliya is beginning to border on becoming a geeky science nerd. Actually, Zambia could use more geeky science nerds, so that would be ok.

If you have any messages of encouragement for Eric or Saliya, let me know and I’ll send them along.

Pooped on Again, a Spear Fishing Re-do and Hijacking Plans

Wow. It is insanely hot here. Insanely hot. From about 7 am to 4 pm it is completely miserable. At all other hours it is only slightly less miserable. I don’t know if I will survive.

Although, the heat has afforded me the opportunity to stagger around with a carton of milk in my hand, drinking occasionally and proclaiming aloud, “It’s so hot out here…Milk was a baaaad choice.” Nobody’s gotten that one yet but I’m going to keep it up anyways because you know what? It’s funny to me.

Ahhhh, nobody gets me.

But enough with the complaining, here’s what’s been going on around Namumu lately…

Junior, the young boy next door (Innocent’s replacement) is growing up right before my eyes. I’ve seen him take his first steps and speak his first words. He gets cuter and fatter every day. His aversion to pants is still as strong as ever.

I really love that little guy, even though he pooped on me. Again. I picked him up the other day and boom, it happened. I should’ve seen it coming, though. I couldn’t even get mad at him. It’s like I always say, “Poop on me once, shame on you. Poop on me twice, shame on me.”

My army of girl readers is going strong and has even been growing as of late. Wendy is knocking out chapters of “Mercy’s Birds” like it’s her job. Vivian is stuttering less. So, if I don’t go insane from reading one crappy young adult novel after another things should keep on just fine.

I was visiting the Peters, two kapenta fishing camp owners I mentioned some time back, and they informed me that their son was returning from South Africa next week and is an expert spear fisherman. They told me to come over to fish with him sometime. Man, I’m excited. After my aforementioned fishing failures with Clivet aka the Sweater I am looking to step up my spear fishing game. I’ll keep you updated.

Our water system hasn’t broken down in a few weeks, so that’s nice.

Finally, I had an awesome follow up conversation with Zenzo, one of Namumu’s accountants, concerning local traditional marriage issues.

We were riding back from town in the Namumu vehicle. Wendy, my number one reader, was in the car, coming home from school. I had given her a newspaper to read through and she was asking me questions. She started reading an article about terrorism and plane hijacking.

“What does ‘hijacking’ mean?” she asked.

I started to explain to her when Zenzo cut in, saying, “You know, Sam, traditionally it is acceptable for a Tonga man, when he identifies a Tonga woman that he wants to marry, to get three or four large friends to “hijack” that woman, perhaps when she’s out drawing water, and to take her back to his home where he can negotiate with her family over the issue of marriage."

So, as it turns out, I might not even be needing the support money to buy a Tonga wife, I’ll only need three or four strong friends. And saving money is always good, right?

Good Times and a Whole Lotta Nudity at Chirundundike

I made my second trip out to the Namumu kapenta fishing camp at Chirundundike Island this weekend. The fishing month was coming to a close and I wanted to check up on our guys one last time. My days there were slow and simple and very, very enjoyable. I’d even go so far as to say it was one of the best weekends of my life.

I’ve commented before on how the general opinion around these parts is that most fishermen are lying, stealing, drunken buffoons. Sadly, these thoughts have permeated the minds of many on Namumu’s staff and management team. Our guys are mistrusted and have been put down from time to time. I know that in some cases it’s true, there are quite a few buffoons out there on the lake. I’ve met them. And I know that stealing is occurring for many of these camps and may be occurring in ours to some degree. Still, the attitude really bothers me.

I arrived at the camp around 11:30 am on a slow moving banana boat (hot sun + slow moving banana boat + pasty white sam = red sam). I wanted my arrival to be a surprise to our guys because, even though I trust them, it’s good to keep them on their toes and aware that they might be under supervision at any time.

When I showed up, I found four of our team sitting on the shore. They came up and gave me a warm greeting. Four were just off the shore on the hill where our camp is set, sleeping in the shade. Two were around a fire, cooking nsima and kapenta, and two were sitting on a rock reading a book together about the gospel of John. Again, not exactly the raging party that those adhering to the “general opinion” might expect.

Spirits were high. Very high. Despite my jinxing of the operation with the blog post you see below, it has been a record breaking month for the Namumu team in terms of catches and sales. The program has existed since 2006 and never has a crew brought in this much kapenta. The guys were happy because they get paid according to their catches and will receive a nice little paycheck this month. But, more than that, I think they just take pride in being good at their jobs.

The sense of camaraderie with our team is unbelievable, and it’s not hard to see why. During the fishing month, when camped out at Chirundundike, our guys spend almost every minute of the day and night together, fishing at night, eating and relaxing during the day. It’s really like a family (which I think makes me the bearded white uncle).

It was a nice scene to walk in on.

To kick things up another notch, Mubita, our rig foreman, and I threw down a challenge right off the bat, saying that whichever boat caught more fish that night would receive a goat to kill and eat, paid for by Mubita and myself. As goat meat is the bomb dot com I was pretty excited about the bet myself and hoping that the boat I was on was the winner.

My first night was wonderful. Just before setting off I once again, with the hot sun bearing down on me, bathed in the cool waters of Lake Kariba and strolled around on the rocks as naked as the day I was born (obviously a great way to kick off any night…if you have the means I highly recommend it). Like the last time, I hopped on one boat (after re-clothing myself) and Mubita hopped on the other. We drove out super duper far (it’s a big lake) and, since we’d left pretty early in the afternoon, there was time to sit around and relax before the fishing started. We cooked nsima, kapenta and cabbage over a small fire and ate with the setting sun in the background. Although the weather in Siavonga has been brutally hot, out on the lake it was cool and breezy. The sun was setting over the hills on the Zambian side and I just about died it was so pretty. We sat around and talked for a while until it was time to fish. It was calm and quiet and very, very nice.

Soon it was time to get to work. We flipped on the lights, dropped the net and prepared the boat for the night (for kapenta fishing procedures see “Uncle Chuck Norris Goes to Sea” below).

Catches were good the first night and my boat won the contest and the goat. Boo ya! Unfortunately, we didn’t have time to get the goat before leaving Chirundundike so it will have to wait until next month, but Boo ya! anyways, right? I spent the night working with the guys a bit, sleeping every now and then, and staring at the stars and thinking about life. Not bad. Not bad at all.

For a short time the next day I got organized with Mubita and made plans for the following month. After that I did absolutely nothing all day but sit on the rocks and read, jumping in the lake every now and then to cool off (I wore pants this time…thinking back I’m not really sure why). My goodness it was wonderful.

I hopped on the other boat to fish the second night. As one of the crew members had gone home to Siavonga early to receive some medical attention (Pierson, the aforementioned jolly-ol’ captain of the Lucy boat, had gotten burned by the engine on his backside, an incident that allowed me to show off the fact that I know how to say, “He/She has a big butt” in Tonga, a phrase I’ve been using way more than I should be and that will probably get me into trouble in the future) I basically had to be a crew member this night and do the fishing work. As I stood there helping to bring up the net, turning the crank handle with the three others on board at 2 in the morning, I thought to myself, “I’ll bet there aren’t too many white guys that are getting to do what I’m doing right now (ie. working an African fishing boat in the middle of the night on Lake Kariba, not turning a crank handle…I’ll bet a lot of white guys get to do that). This is awesome.”

The next morning we packed up our camp and struck out early for Siavonga with the wind blowing through our hair and the sun shining on our faces, filled with the knowlege that our group had just pulled in almost 9,000 kgs of kapenta for the month.

I was right proud of our boys.

The Next Executive Director

For some time now, Namumu has been searching for someone to replace The Man, The Myth, The Legend, Munjongo Namuyamba, our fearless leader and one of Namumu’s founders, as the Namumu Executive Director. At long last that search has come to an end. Namumu has officially named its next Executive Director.

His name is Mr. Phanuel Simamba. While I am not yet well acquainted with Mr. Simamba I can say that he appears to be a very nice, well spoken, intelligent man. I know that he has lived in the Siavonga area for his entire life, and that everyone who knows him believes him to be bright and hard working.

Beginning next week Mr. Simamba will begin dropping by Namumu to work with Munjongo. This will continue until the beginning of January, when Mr. Simamba will officially take over the Executive Director role.

Again, I haven’t spent much time with Mr. Simamba yet, but I was fortunate enough to be invited to a get-to-know-you type dinner with Mr. Simamba, his wife, and some of the Namumu management and staff. While there I was able to make an observation that I would argue bodes quite well for Mr. Simamba’s tenure…

The dinner took place at Eagle’s Rest Lodge, a beautiful lodge set on the shore of Lake Kariba. Ten were present and we were all seated at one long table. There were a few mini-speeches (although I’ve found mini-speeches in Africa are basically equivalent to full-length speeches anywhere else in the world) addressing the future of Namumu before we were able to enjoy dinner.

Fortunately, drinks were served and refilled throughout the series of speeches. As is usually the case here, the three soft drink choices were Fanta, Sprite, and of course the best drink in the history of mankind, Coca Cola. Out of the ten people present, eight went with Fanta. The two Coca Cola drinkers? Myself (obviously), and Namumu’s future Executive Director himself, Mr. Phanuel Simamba.

So, I’ve found out that Namumu’s future leader is a Coca Cola fan. So far the man checks out with me…

Thanks for the Support

It's been a while since I've thrown out a big ol' thank you to all of you that have helped support my stay here...

So thank you, thank you, thank you, for both the financial and prayer support.

Obviously the frustrations and setbacks are many, but good, good things are happening at this place and I'm grateful that you've helped me to be a part of it.

Mr. Kabwe

Tragedy struck Siavonga last Friday in the late afternoon. There was a big, big accident at the Kariba North Bank Power Station located just outside of Siavonga. Even now I’m having trouble separating fact from rumor, but I believe there was some sort of explosion and a number of fires broke out. Many workers were injured and some were killed.

One of the workers that was killed was a former Namumu employee, Mr. Briston Kabwe. Mr. Kabwe was Namumu’s head welder up until only some months ago when he took a job at Kariba North Bank. He had been at Namumu for a few years.

Even though we had not worked together I knew Mr. Kabwe pretty well. He lived close by to Namumu and from time to time he would drop in to check on Vincent, Namumu’s current head welder, his former student. He just wanted to make sure his protege was faring well. He was a nice man.

Coincidentally, I was one of the last people around here to get to see Mr. Kabwe. On Saturday morning, the day after the power station incident, I made a trip to the Siavonga District Hospital with Alfred, Namumu’s driver. The hospital was packed with dozens of men injured in the accident. Family and friends were pouring in to make sure that their loved ones were alright.

Most of the men were in a large general holding area, but Mr. Kabwe was in a separate room. He had bandages all over his body, having been badly burned. He was clearly in pain. Still, he was conscious and talking and appeared to be fine. Two days later we received word that he had been transferred to a large hospital in Lusaka. The next day we received word that he had passed away.

I attended part of Mr. Kabwe’s funeral yesterday. It was just a small gathering of family and friends as his burial won’t be until later this week. It was my second African funeral and it was mostly the same. The men split off from the women and both groups sat around and talked quietly. Or just sat. Or cried. It was terrible.

The worst part was watching Mr. Kabwe’s small children. I believe he had three in total, although I only saw his two small girls, probably only two or three years old. Both were walking around and smiling, clearly oblivious to the whole situation. I don’t think they had any idea what had happened.

It made me wonder when they would know, how long it would take for them to realize the gravity of the situation and how different their lives are going to be from now on. In a relatively impoverished area they were some of the fortunate ones, having had a man with a good job to provide for them. Now that’s all gone. I don’t know, maybe the power company will provide some type of benefits for them. Maybe not. It’s tough to think about.

Siavonga is not a big place, so almost everyone had a friend or family member working at that place. At some point today, please take a moment to pray for those in Siavonga affected by this accident.

The Jinx

So I totally jinxed the Namumu kapenta fishing program with that last blog post. The very next day we had a breakdown. Whoops.

We jumped on things quickly, though. Mubita, our rig foreman, or supervisor, got the boat towed to a nearby camp and got it fixed up quickly. Now it’s back on the water and performing well again. What in years past may have kept the boat out for days or weeks Mubita managed to take care of in two days.

Still, from now on I think I’ll refrain from posting any such messages until the end of the month.

Stupid jinxes.

Reading Frenzy

The reading frenzy hasn’t quite caught on as much as I would have liked, but I do have a few loyal readers nonetheless. Kebby, the boys’ caretaker, is still getting on some of the boys to keep reading at night, and I’m doing the same for the girls.

Wendy aka Mrs. MVP (did you google image search that one?) is still rocking and rolling. She finished the Ben Carson autobiography, as well as some other super crappy young adult novel about a boy in the Depression-era Southeast. Booooring. Luckily, she has now moved on to a very decent young adult novel called “Mercy’s Birds” about an outcast teenager who wears all black and dyes her hair black and mopes around all the time, etc. etc. As you might imagine, it’s a little difficult for a young girl that has never been out of her small village in southern Africa to relate to some of the things we’re reading, but I’m trying to explain things as best I can and I think she’s learning a lot.

Vivian is another one of my loyal readers these days. She’s 13 and in grade seven at the Namumu Community School. Vivian has a big stuttering problem. It shows up from time to time when she’s speaking but is most prevalent when she’s reading. Since Noah in “The Notebook” fixed his stammering problem by reading Walt Whitman out loud I’m hoping we can take care of Vivian’s problem in the same way (that’s right, I’ve seen the Notebook, wanna fight about it?).

Right now, Vivian is reading a young adult book about three bratty teenage girls who go on some camping trip and talk incessantly about boys and other such things. Not really my cup of tea, but Vivian seems to like it. Again, relating to the material is a bit of a problem for Vivian, but she’s still enjoying things.

People have asked me in the past if there’s anything that is needed at Namumu that they could send through the mail. Some have suggested books. I’ve always said that I thought the cost of sending heavy books might be a bit too high, but I’m going to go ahead and take that back. I think Namumu could use a few more children’s books and young adult books. We have some of both here, but the selection is pretty limited.

I think we’d all agree that it’s important to keep these kids reading. Many of them are motivated and want to read, but there just aren’t enough books to go around.

If you’d like to talk about ways to help out, shoot me an email at ssc2x@virginia.edu.

Fishing up a Storm

The past two months demonstrate quite well the up-and-down nature of the kapenta fishing business.

Things were bad last month. Real bad. The generator on one boat fell into the water and needed to be replaced, and generators ain’t cheap. The pontoons on the same boat were badly, badly damaged. The boat only fished a few days out of the month, a month where typically, because of the warm weather, catches are very high.

We experienced a number of other problems, too. One day the other boat’s net got stuck under water. The next day that same boat’s engine broke down. One of our fisherman resigned. Things were so bad that we had to make our guys leave the camp at the far away Chirundundike Island, the place where the fishing is the best, to come operate around Siavonga, since the traveling back and forth to make repairs was becoming too expensive.

The catches of the one boat in operation, the Lucy boat, were pretty good and saved the month from being a total disaster. Still, it was a bad month.

These days Namumu fishing is back in a big way. We repaired everything that needed repairing and got our crew back out to Chirundundike Island. Holy crap, our guys are cleaning up.

In their first three days of fishing in September, our guys pulled in 2,148 kgs of kapenta.

Let me try to put that in perspective for you. In April, the total catches for the ENTIRE MONTH were 1,936 kgs. Our guys topped that in three days.

Our guys caught so much fish that we couldn’t even hire out our usual transport boat. It couldn’t carry all the kapenta we’d caught. We had to bring all of the kapenta back with one of our rigs. After four days of fishing we transported back 43 bags (a bag is 20 kgs of dry kapenta). For two boats, that’s decent work for an entire month.

Why the success? Part of it is the weather. Conditions are good. It’s heating up and there’s not much wind. Part of it is the location. We’ve set up our guys in a good area. Part of it is that we have a good crew. They’re experienced and hard-working.

Mostly, I think God knew we just needed a break.

Let’s hope this run continues.

A Change of Scenery

Wow. What a ridiculous weekend. Despite beginning with a potential disaster it quickly turned out to be one of the best weekends I’ve had in a long time. It went a little something like this…

My phone rang at 4:30 am on Friday morning. It was Edwin Luneta, Namumu’s Finance Manager, telling me to come over to the office because there was an emergency. Awesome, I thought. Another emergency. What a great way to start the day.

Actually, you know what? Even though that sounds bad it really didn’t bother me too much. For one, I had been planning to wake up around 4:45 am to hop on our hired truck that would be leaving at 5:00 and heading to Lusaka to pick up supplies for the welding workshop. So, other than being slightly annoyed at being woken up a few minutes before my alarm (don’t you hate that?) I was fine.

Plus, given the way things go here at Namumu and in southern Africa in general I pretty much go to sleep every night expecting to be woken up by such a call alerting me to some emergency, so whatever.

It turns out it was another water emergency. Some dummy out in the bush started a fire that spread over the hill and burned up a portion of the piping that carries water from our bore hole to the Namumu complex. These fires are actually pretty common. People burn out wide areas so that the small game must come out of hiding, then they go a-hunting. Still, this hunter wasn’t thinking, and his or her carelessness totally screwed Namumu. Again.

However, as we are pretty savvy at handling water emergencies these days (thanks to lots of practice) we made a quick plan. We grabbed a local plumber who hopped on the hired truck with our group to go buy the necessary piping and pipe connections from Lusaka. He knew exactly what he needed and it wouldn’t be too expensive. Thus, the “emergency” turned out to be not that much of an emergency at all.

Things only got better from there.

For the most part it was ho-hum just another supply trip. Vincent and I now know exactly where to go in the city to get the lowest prices, so after bing-bang-booming around Lusaka for a few hours in our hired truck we had everything we needed. Usually such trips to Lusaka are pretty stressful, as you have to move quickly through a dirty, crowded city to pick a number of different things and finish in time to make the three hour drive back to Siavonga. But this one was smooth sailing.

Oh yea, and even though I’m sure you all think I’m making this up, some random guy on a street corner called me Chuck Norris again, so I’m three for three in Lusaka on that one. Boo ya!

Since we’d finished everything we needed to do, I figured I’d call a couple of my friends in Lusaka to see if they wanted to meet up.

I ended up chatting with Ndandula, Munjongo and Esther’s youngest daughter, and as she was just getting off work and didn’t have much going on she invited me to stick around Lusaka for the weekend and crash at her place. My work for the week was finished, and I hadn’t had a chance to get away from Siavonga and relax in a while, so I jumped right on the opportunity.

So, I was back in civilization for a few days. Mostly I was just relaxing and enjoying the change of scenery, but there were a few particularly memorable highlights.

There’s a really nice movie theater in Lusaka and I got to go see a movie, eat popcorn and drink Coca Cola. My head almost exploded from sheer excitement, which obviously speaks more to the lack of stimulation I have experienced in Siavonga lately than to the actual excitement of the experience.

I went with Ndandula and her cousin, Sonny, to see “The Hangover”. In classic African style they were looking forward to seeing some super crappy action movie, “GI Joe: The Rise of the Cobra”. However, using all the wit and charm I could muster as well referencing a strong endorsement from Chris Noack (which, given the fact that “Underworld II: The Rise of the Lycans” is one of Chris’s favorite movies was a pretty risky move) we went with “The Hangover”.

Wow, what a great choice. Very crude and very hilarious. And “The Champ” made one of the best cameos I’ve ever seen (trying to keep this blog spoiler-free).

It was an all-time great movie going experience for me, and the best part may have even been after the movie was over. I had a great urinal conversation with some 40-ish year old Zambian guy who started out the conversation chuckling and saying “Hah…boys will be boys, huh?” (you’ll understand if you see the movie…and yes, he began the conversation, not me…I think the rules of urinal etiquette are different here in Zambia).

Later on we went to an ice cream parlor, again nearly causing my head to explode. I know I shouldn’t have put down as much as I did, especially since I’ve been told I’m getting fat no fewer than ten times in the past week, but there ain’t much ice cream in Siavonga, so I had to get my fill.

I spent a number of hours over the weekend sprawled out on Ndandula’s rug watching tv. I still don’t have a tv here in Siavonga so, while my head didn’t almost explode it was still nice.

Actually, I did watch Beyonce’s “Ego” music video a few times and my head almost did explode.

And last but not least I got to make it out to a Lusaka night club where I tore up the dance floor for hours upon hours. It was fun, but the best part of the experience didn’t come until later in the night when some random guy came up to me and said, “Hey, nice beard, man, you look like John Lennon”. Can’t top that.

What a great weekend.

Another Run-in with the Enemy

The cows have struck another devastating blow to the Namumu gardens. A number of devastating blows, actually. It’s very dry and very hot here. There ain’t much green around anymore. As a result, the cows are going after and eating everything, and I mean everything, that they can find. They’ve wiped out a number of our beds containing Chinese cabbage, rape, tomatoes and hot peppers. I’m pretty sure if I were in the garden when they came by and standing real still they’d try to eat me, too.

What’s that you say? We should build fences? Well, as a matter of fact we have. We’ve built a number of fences and even hired a guy from around here to build a big strong one around the main gardens in the center of Namumu.

However, much like the raptors of Jurassic Park these cows have probed the fences for weaknesses and managed to get through. They’ve managed to outwit us in nearly every one of our beds. I’ve personally seen them go under, over and around our fences.

Please pray for me, that I won’t slaughter one of these hungry animals and get in trouble with somebody from the community and get kicked out of here.

Because I’m really on the line.

Welsh Accents Rule

Namumu said goodbye to two more visitors this week, probably the last two we’ll be seeing for a little while.

Debbie Price and her mother, Cynthia, came to visit us from Wales and stayed in Siavonga for a few weeks. Both put in time working in the surrounding communities as well as at Namumu. At Namumu they organized a number of sporting events for the kids and even stuck things out in the hot afternoon sun to play along with them.

It was nice to have somebody to relate to with the whole sunburn thing. These Zambians just don’t understand.

I didn’t get to spend as much time as I would have liked to with Debbie and Cynthia, but I was around them long enough to know that they are both very kind and very willing to serve, not to mention that they have some of the best accents I’ve ever heard. And they brought me hot sauce, so now we’re friends for life.

I’ve asked them to shoot me an email whenever they get a chance with something that I can post on the blog. So, be on the lookout for another guest posting. It seemed like everyone enjoyed Tom’s a while back, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy the Price’s as well. Especially if you imagine it being said with a Welsh accent…

It’s been fun, Debbie and Cynthia. Have a safe trip back.

The Tonga Bride Price

I have an important issue I need to discuss.

I'm not quite sure how it started, but I was talking the other day with some of my co-workers and the issue of marriage came up.

Actually, I do know how it came up. Esther (Munjongo's wife) was giving me a hard time about how dirty my pants always are and Zenzo, one of Namumu's accountants, offered to help find me a wife that will cook and clean for me.

He started out the conversation saying, "You know, Sam, there are some very cheap Tonga women around these parts...I can make that happen."

Apparently I can have my pick. Awesome.

However, there is one catch. Getting a wife ain't cheap. 'Round these parts, traditionally the husband is supposed to pay a hefty sum to the bride's family in order to marry her.

Zenzo told me the going rate out here is around 10 heads of cattle. Since 1 head of cattle is costing around K1,500,000 (about US $300), I'm going to need around US $3,000 to make this happen.

The life of a bachelor is taking its toll on me. I don't know how much more cooking and cleaning I can take.

Anybody with $3,000 back home want to help me out?

Too many BTs

Good things and bad things seem to come in waves here at Namumu. In an effort to avoid depressing all blog readers and to keep myself from posting various strings of expletives, I’ve actually been putting off writing for a few days due to a number of bad thing waves.

Just to get it out of the way, here’s a brief summary of the last two weeks:

The electric water pump on our bore hole broke down. Again. So, it was back to fetching water from the far away boreholes. Again. Our gardens took a big hit. Again. And for me, it was back to conserving water and cutting down on water usage in any way I could. Let’s just say I can count the number of times I bathed in the last two weeks on one hand…

The Toyota Surf, Namumu’s only working vehicle, broke down. Again. There were major engine problems. As we rely exclusively on the Surf to get to and from the bank daily and to transport our kapenta fishing materials this way and that we were really stuck. We had to keep hiring taxis and trucks to move us around, and man, it got expensive.

The problem generator on one of our kapenta rigs broke down. Again. We’ve had one rig fishing for the entire month, a month where, due to the weather, catches are always very, very high. So we’ve been missing out, danggit.

Things have really turned around in the last couple of days, though.

We installed a new electric water pump and our bore hole is back in action. Our gardens took a hit but will survive. And I’m bathing every day now! Hurray!

The Surf got repaired, so we’re saving on transport costs again. Hurray!

Our generator has been repaired and we’ll be fishing with two boats for the few remaining days in the fishing month. And, despite fishing with only one boat all month and incurring a number of repair and maintenance costs, it looks like we’re still going to turn a small profit this month. Hurray!

So, all that was nice.

In addition, the two younger girls that live next door that are always asking me if they can sweep my house are now always asking if they can wash my clothes. Boo ya!

Yes sir, things are looking up.

A Tonga Anatomy Lesson and Eye Boogers

I was walking along the dirt road the other day and I ran into this older woman who lives in the village near Namumu. I don’t really know her well because she speaks zero English, but we at least greet each other and have basic Tonga conversations. My Tonga is getting better and so I struck up a little chat. Keep in mind this woman is probably around 60 or 70 years old.

I asked how she was. She said she was fine, but feeling a little sick. I told her that I was sorry and asked what exactly was wrong. I asked if it was her head or her stomach, pointing to each as I said them (most of my conversations like this include a fair amount of sign language).

No, neither one of those, she said. She then proceeded to say a word I’ve never heard and reach down, grabbing her you-know-what right in front of me, telling me how much it’s paining. Wow. TMI. I was nauseated for a good 20 minutes, but hey, at least I learned a new Tonga word.

On a less disgusting note, you know that part in Mark Twain’s “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” where Tom is whitewashing a fence and he dupes a bunch of kids from the neighborhood into doing it for him by pretending that whitewashing is really great and fun and something that he probably shouldn’t let them do? Well, I’ve pretty much done exactly that and have the two younger girls next door sweeping off my front and back porch every day or so. It’s awesome. It’s like I’m doing them a favor by letting them take the job from me. So, thank you for that insight into human nature, Mart Twain, thank you very much indeed.

Finally, I’m happy to report that the nicknames at Namumu are getting out of control. I’m proud to say I’ve contributed to the nicknames of no fewer than 15 Namumu children. As of right now, my two favorite nicknames for kids are “Mabisi” and “Mabboli”. Both are Tonga. “Mabisi” means spoiled milk. “Mabboli” means eye boogers. Yes, they have a word for eye boogers in Tonga. For those who have been to Namumu and have met some of the children, Lucky is “Mabisi” and Kabuba is “Mabboli”. Needless to say, Lucky and Kabuba are no longer speaking to me.

Farewell, Ted and Sue

This week Namumu said goodbye to Ted and Sue Wright, two big Namumu supporters, who will soon be flying back home (well, to their other home) in the US. Ted and Sue have been working in Zambia for some time now as Regional Liaisons for the Outreach Foundation. As many reading this blog already know, the Outreach Foundation, based in the US, is one of Namumu’s main supporters.

While it seems like Ted and Sue did about a bajillion things here in Zambia and much of southern Africa, I think their job could be summarized by saying that they facilitated partnerships between organizations and churches in the US and southern Africa.

Among other things, they were a big help in facilitating my stay out here. I don’t think I’d be able to be here doing what I’m doing had it not been for their help.

Ted and Sue, we love you and we’ll miss you.

Please pray that they will have a safe trip back to the US.

Future Me

Our damaged kapenta boat isn’t back on the water yet, but it will be soon, thanks largely to the help of one man, who I think deserves a blog shout out.

Andy is a nice older gentleman who runs a nearby kapenta fishing company, and nothing I could write in this blog could do justice to how cool this guy really is.

Andy is an old white guy who lives up the lake and has a lot going on. His company has eight kapenta rigs in operation. Like Namumu, he runs a small carpentry operation, too. He has farm land around Siavonga, where he grows maize and sorghum. He raises cows, pigs, goats, chickens, rabbits and pigeons (yes, apparently people buy and eat rabbits and pigeons here). I’m pretty sure that he has other businesses going on that he just hasn’t told me about yet.

Andy has lived in Zambia for most of his life, he says, though I think his family was from the UK. You can tell from his accent, which remains strong. He’s tall, tan and lanky, with a bushy white beard. He always wears really short shorts and a button down shirt with the top four or so buttons undone. Most of the time he’s just hanging around his dock on the lake, fiddling around with something or directing his workers. Basically, he’s what I aspire to be in about 30 or 40 years.

This guy has done unbelievable amounts of work for Namumu for free, including the current repair of our generator. His mechanics have helped us with major repairs no less than five times since I’ve been here. He’s loaned us equipment. He’s given me loads and loads of advice on how the kapenta business works. He’s really bent over backward for Namumu. And he never lets us pay him.

He’s just a nice old man who wants to help our Orphanage. Actually, I think he does this for other fishing camps besides us, too. I think he just likes helping people.

And that’s not all he does. Unemployment is a big problem in Zambia, and I’m pretty sure he’s employing way more people than he really needs just to get some of these local Zambians working.

After encountering more than a few people engaging in shady business practices here in Zambia, I’m glad I met Andy, a guy who, to some degree, has restored my faith in humanity.

If you’re praying today, ask that God will raise up more people like Andy in Siavonga.

Fishing Woes x 2

We’ve had a rough go of it with our kapenta boats as of late.

It’s a real shame, too, because things were really looking up. We had a great month of July. Our guys pulled in more than 5,000 kgs of fresh kapenta, more than any of the other crews camped out at Chirundundike. We had total sales of more than K 21,000,000 (around $4,200) and a net profit of more than K 11,000,000 (around $2,200), very good numbers for a small company with only two rigs. Things were going quite well.

Then the winds came.

Over the full moon break, violent winds beat down upon our rig parked at the island, snapping the ropes and hurling the generator into the water. Then, the rig continued to rock. The pontoon smashed the generator, which was lying in the shallow water under the rig, to pieces, puncturing the pontoon in the process. What a bummer.

We jumped on things quickly, retrieving the generator and getting it to a friend of ours in a neighboring fishing camp to repair all he could. We purchased a few new generator parts and are hoping to get it fixed up in the next few days. We shipped Vincent, our welder, off to the island to repair the pontoon. Hopefully we’ll get the boat back in the water and fishing soon.

When I first arrived in Siavonga I was chatting with Gladice Peters, a kind woman who has run a nearby kapenta fishing company with her husband for around 40 years. One of the first pieces of advice she gave me about the kapenta business was to, “buy a lot of headache medicine”.

Now I can see why.

On a lighter note, I spent my entire Sunday afternoon out in the bush with Clivet and another Namumu boy, Stanley, wandering around and exploring the hills, trying to get my mind off our kapenta woes, if only temporarily.

It totally worked.

We managed to find a small stream down in between two giant rock faces, the perfect place to sit around and cool off after a long, hot trek over the hills. We sat around on the rocks beneath a miniature waterfall for some time. The water was about a meter deep in some places and, despite my misgivings, I dove right in. Let me tell you, Chris and JJ, it felt so good that even if amoebas found their way into my body I think it might have been worth it.

We even tried a little spear fishing in the stream. We were unsuccessful, but we made a few improvements to our spears upon returning to Namumu and I feel confident that our next outing will bring success.

Any spear fishing experts out there with any advice for us?

In summary, it was a rough week. Let’s hope we can get our act together here.

Wendy AKA Mrs. MVP

Lately we’ve been trying to get the Namumu children into the habit of reading more books. There are a number of donated books lying around in the Namumu store room, children’s books and young adult books, mostly. We’ve been distributing them and encouraging the kids to read some every day. Some of the staff members have even been reading with the children during their free time.

Since I don’t have much to do in the evenings I’ve been wandering over to the small, lighted chalet near the girls’ dormitory and reading with some of the girls from time to time. Most of the girls only attend sporadically, but my homegirl Wendy is there almost every night.

Wendy is 14 years old and is in the 9th grade at Siavonga High School. Sadly, the reading skills of many of these girls are pretty terrible. A few of them in the 7th grade struggle to get through children’s books, for example. Wendy is rocking and rolling, though.

I always ask these kids what they want to do when they leave Namumu. Wendy says she wants to be a journalist. I’m trying to encourage her to work towards that goal. I told her that she needs to be reading or writing something every night, and so far I think she’s done it.

While some of the other Namumu girls around her age are struggling with reading, Wendy and I have almost made it all the way through “Gifted Hands”, the autobiography of Ben Carson, the world famous neurosurgeon. It’s not an easy read. He uses some big words and a good deal of medical terminology. Wendy has a tough time with “hemispherectomy”, a word Ben uses excessively, but she’s almost got it down. She keeps plugging away and has almost finished the book. I’m very proud of her.

Wendy is a nice girl who’s happy almost all of the time. In addition to reading she likes working in the garden and, like all other Namumu-ans, she loves professional wrestling. I’ve learned to not even bother showing up to read before 8 pm on Wednesday evenings because that’s when WWE Smackdown is on and lord knows she can’t miss that. She really likes this one wrestler named MVP and thinks that he is very handsome, but let me tell you, this guy is a total goober and I make fun of her for it constantly. Google image search for him and you’ll see what I mean.

If you have any message for Wendy or any advice on finding a way into the journalism profession give me a holler and I’ll be sure to pass it along…

Country Boys Head Out to the Big City

I got the chance to skidaddle out of Siavonga the other day. We needed to get some supplies from Lusaka, Zambia’s capital, for construction on the Namumu poultry house (formerly the piggery) and for our welding guys. We hired a large truck and I joined Vincent, our head welder, and Kelly, our maintenance officer that is helping with the poultry construction, on the trip. It wasn’t too exciting, but there were a few highlights that I thought I’d share from our journey:

As you might imagine, you don’t pass many fast food restaurants on the three hour-ish drive from Siavonga up to Lusaka. So, whenever the driver felt like it was time for a pit stop we’d pull onto the shoulder and everybody did their business right on the roadside. Nobody seemed to make too much of an effort to move away from the road and into the tall grasses, either, just taking a few steps to the side. During college, I often made the claim that one of my favorite things about being in college, if not my favorite thing, was the fact that it was more or less socially acceptable for guys to pee just about anywhere. Needless to say, these impromptu pit stops don’t bother me much.

Once in Lusaka, a random guy shouted, “Hey, Chuck Norris!” at me again. True story. Oddly enough, it was at almost exactly the same time of day in the exact same area of town as the last time. Major déjà vu. I’m pretty sure it was a different guy this time, though. He immediately proceeded to run me down and ask me for money, which, for me, lessened the impact of the compliment, since I’m pretty sure he was just buttering me up before making his request. Then again, maybe he thought I actually was Chuck Norris and therefore had a lot of money to throw around. I guess we’ll never know.

Later on, I experienced my first Zambian theft on the streets of Lusaka. I was sitting up in the front seat of the truck and Vincent was sitting in the back with all the supplies. It’s a big, 3-ton truck (looks like a big pick-up) and we had a lot of our supplies scattered in the back. We had bought some big supplies, like lumber, chicken wire and metal sheets, and some small ones in bags, like nails, paint and thinner. As we were rolling up to a stop light this skeezy looking guy casually walked up beside the truck, snatched a few of the bags and started walking away.

Vincent must have been day-dreaming because he didn’t see it. The driver did, though, in one of his side mirrors. I jumped out and ran after the guy and so did Vincent. The guy was a total pansy. He dropped the bags and ran behind a building. I had time to yell out a few things about what I’d like to do to him, things that God was probably not happy about, before collecting the items and jumping back in the car. Learned my lesson on that one. You have to watch out in the big city.

Uncle Chuck Norris Goes to Sea (actually to the lake, but whatever) - PART II

...And the kapenta did come.

After around an hour or two of waiting, during which the fishermen chatted above the roar of the generator and played a checkers-like game called “drafts” with bottle caps on the deck, the guys hopped into action. Silof, the “Namumu” boat captain, turned off the lights. All four crew members gathered at the side of the boat and, together, turned the crank handles that brought up the net. After heave-ho-ing for a few minutes, the iron rim holding the net rose slowly out of the water.

To envision the rim and net, picture a basketball hoop. The net is attached to the large (5 feet in diameter), circular metal rim in just the same way. The net extends down for around 10 meters, where it is tied off at the bottom and weighted with a rock. When the rim is low in the water, the fish, like a bunch of stupid morons, swim down through the top of the rim towards the water light, which is lowered down the center of the net to the bottom by a long cable.

The guys pulled up the bottom of the net, untied the rope, and emptied the fish out into plastic crates that are kept on the boat. Each of the five pulls a night, during a good month like July, will bring in around 30 kgs of kapenta. After the pull, they tied and weighted the bottom of the net, lowered the rim and net back into the water, turned the lights back on and cleaned off the deck. Three of the crew members promptly and with little chit chat went to the corner, curled up and fell asleep, while one curled up and kept watch. Because the generator is thumping throughout the night, if all crew members slept it would be easy for someone to sneak on board and swipe some of the kapenta. Or something could go wrong with the boat, or the lights, etc. This is why one man keeps watch.

This cycle carries on throughout the night. The fishermen get up, pull up the net, bring in the fish, and go back to sleep. Again. And again. And again. I wanted to tell ghost stories or play truth or dare, but given the loud pounding of the generator and the fact that not one of the guys on the “Namumu” boat spoke much English at all, I decided it would be best if they just follow the usual routine and go to sleep.

Around 7 am they made their last pull, turned off the generator and we headed for home.

Now, most people had led me to believe that all fishermen are, more or less, drunken buffoons who cannot be trusted and must be watched carefully. I had always imagined that, during the daytime, most fishermen sat around drinking, smoking and stirring up trouble. That picture couldn’t have been further from the truth.

First, our guys finished their work, spreading out the night’s catches on the drying racks. A few of them mended the nets, using string to tie up the holes. A few helped with the weighing of the catches. After that, they sat around, cooking and eating nsima and kapenta. After that they sat around and talked or slept. Some of them went to play soccer at a nearby field with some of the guys from other fishing camps. As you can see, it wasn’t exactly the raging party I had been led to expect.

And I know what you’re probably thinking. You’re thinking that they were only behaving themselves because Uncle Chuck Norris, the Supervisor, was around. However, Mubita, a man who has my trust completely, informed me that what I saw was the usual routine.

Other than that, not a whole lot happened. I went out with the “Lucy” boat the next night, switching boats with Mubita. It was the exact same routine. Pierson, the captain for the Lucy boat and the outspoken ringleader of the entire group, was fun to watch. Always smiling, always laughing and always speaking very very quickly in Tonga, Pierson’s energy is contagious. His crew worked happily the entire night. He made me proud.

The second day in the camp was just as low-key as the first.

I did experience one of my favorite moments in Africa so far when, after putting off bathing for a few days (something that is becoming all too common for me as of late) I was able to find a secluded area along the lake and bath in the cool, crisp, clean (well, probably not that clean) water of Lake Kariba with the warm midday sun shining down upon my face. It was magical.

Shortly thereafter I hopped on a small boat we had hired and rode back to Siavonga, more than a little bit wiser about Namumu’s kapenta operation.

Uncle Chuck Norris Goes to Sea (actually to the lake, but whatever) - PART I

In Ernest Hemingway’s “The Old Man and the Sea”, the Old Man reminisces constantly, looking back on his life as a young man. At one point he thinks back to a time when he was working on a ship that sailed off the coast of Africa. He remembers the warm breeze blowing and seeing lions walking on the shore.

Well, technically I wasn’t sailing off the coast of Africa, I was on Lake Kariba, the large lake separating Zambia from Zimbabwe. And I didn’t actually see any lions. Still, when I set out for our island camp with the Namumu fishing crew this past weekend, I probably came as close to being in an Ernest Hemingway novel as I’ll ever be. Oh, what an adventure it was.

We set out early on Friday, packing all of our gear onto the “Lucy” boat and pulling out of the nearby harbor. Joining me were Mubita, our rig foreman (or supervisor), Jere, our fish weigher/drier, and Namumu’s eight fishermen.

Our camp is set up on a large island to the south west called Chirundundike. I’m not sure of the distance. In a smaller, faster boat the trip might take around one or two hours. Ol’ Lucy made it in about seven, puttering away, slow and steady. Still, it was an enjoyable trip. Even the deafening roar of our 20 horsepower diesel engine could only take away from the beauty of the lake but so much. Anyone that has seen an African sunrise can feel me on that one. More than once I stood over the front railing and, with arms spread, shouted, “I’m the King of the World!”. Sadly, nobody laughed. No Leo fans onboard, I suppose.

So, we made it to the camp in the early afternoon and set up shop, just off the lake shore where our guys had cleared away an area within the bush. The camp? There ain’t much to it. All it consists of are six long racks of plastic mesh for drying the night’s catches and two small grass huts, one where Jere sleeps and one where Mubita sleeps when he isn’t out on the boats monitoring the guys at night. Our camp is just one of a number of camps on Chirundudike. Similar camps for other companies surrounded us, though they were a ways off. We were pretty isolated. Like the area surrounding Namumu, this is very much bush-land. Luckily I’d proven to myself that I could survive out in the bush before. Plus, I have a beard, so, you know, it was no big deal…

After unloading the gear, it wasn’t long before it was time to head out and fish for the first night of the month. Around 4 pm, Mubita hopped on the “Lucy” boat and I hopped on the “Namumu” boat to head out. With the threat of kapenta theft ever-looming over the fishing companies in Siavonga, Mubita and I needed wanted to monitor the activities.

Theft is a big problem in the kapenta fishing industries and, as you may recall, used to be a particularly big problem for Namumu, leading to the termination of the contracts of nearly everyone in the fishing department last year.

What usually happens is that small boats will sneak around the lake at night and approach any number of the kapenta rigs out on the water. Certain fishermen will sell these guys kapenta at a discounted price and pocket the money without reporting to their supervisors that they’d caught the fish in the first place.

Short of putting a supervisor on the rig every night there’s not a whole lot that can be done, and even that becomes tricky as some supervisors get in on the action. Police boats patrol the lake at times, but, as you might have assumed, police in Africa aren’t always the most reliable fellows. It wouldn’t surprise me if they do some of the stealing themselves. Most other companies hire a supervisor to cruise around in a small boat from rig to rig to check on their fishermen. Even here, if you have a small boat to do this, which Namumu doesn’t at the moment, whenever the supervisor leaves it’s still possible to steal.

So, as of now Mubita is randomly spending the night on one of the boats from time to time, and I’ve made it explicitly clear to our guys that if we have any indication that any amount of theft is involved, no matter how minor, every one of their contracts will be terminated and we will find a completely new crew.

However, after getting to know our crew over the last four months and after REALLY getting to know after eating, sleeping and fishing with them this past weekend, I can say that I think they are operating honestly and that they are working hard. And I have total trust in Mubita as well. I hope this doesn’t change, but we’ll see.

We parked our rig a few kilometers off shore and the guys prepared all of the equipment (to get an idea of what the rig looks like you might want to look back to a picture I posted very early on in the blog). Around 6 pm the guys lowered the large, round net into the water, kicked on the large generator onboard, and switched on the lights, two up out of the water and one that was lowered deep in the water. Then we waited for the kapenta to come…

Farewell to WCPC (and to Pedro the Chicken)

It’s been a while since I’ve posted, so let me try to get you up to speed on what’s new at Namumu with a few quick notes…

My homies from the Woodlands have come and gone. The group, made up of four guys, left Namumu on Sunday. And, despite a number of unfortunate events, including power outages, bankrupt airlines, minibus accidents, broken toes and unexpected dips in the lake (all of which are described in detail in Tom’s blog contribution below), I think we had a great time together. The Woodlands Community Presbyterian Church has had a strong relationship with Namumu for 10 years now. While it’s not uncommon these days for churches in the US to partner up with churches or organizations in the developing world for a project or two and then to split, to “love ‘em and leave ‘em”, WCPC and Namumu have kept their relationship strong over the years. What a great example to follow.

And no, technically I did not kill the chicken. Tom did. However, I did chop off the head and the feet, remove the feathers and the intestines, and contribute to the cooking. I look at it as a warm-up for the many chickens I am going to kill and eat while I’m here. After all, I am a man...a man who invented the wheel and built the Eiffel Tower out of metal...and brawn. I’ll be sure to keep a kill count for all of you back home.

Some of the boys and I have been hiking quite a bit through the hills around Namumu lately. There are a number of hills surrounding us and all of them make for good hiking. It is very much bush-land, but, other than snakes, I’m told there shouldn’t be any dangerous animals out there. Not this time of year, anyway. There are monkeys, though, I’m told. Clivet and I will be going out strapped with slingshots from now on, so hopefully one of us will bag a monkey soon. I’m sure my chicken preparing and cooking skills will carry over to monkey preparing and cooking as well.

Lest you think the only thing I’m doing with my time is killing and eating wild animals, I want you to know that I’m still working very hard to improve the Namumu businesses. I have a good team with me and things are going well. Our fishing crew is still rocking and rolling, as are our carpentry and welding guys. I’m actually going to camp out with the fishing crew way out in the islands when they leave this month, just to monitor that side of the operation. I’m sure this will lead to plenty of blog-worthy material, so stay tuned…