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.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
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…
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…
Thursday, September 24, 2009
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
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?
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?
Sunday, August 30, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
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.
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.
Monday, August 17, 2009
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.
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.
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.
Monday, August 10, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
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…
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…
Monday, July 27, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
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…
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…
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