Indescribable sense of Unjustafiable loss

This is part of a letter that I wrote to a friend a few months back who lost his mother tragically. It was the first time I was able to put to words some of my own thoughts and feelings of the past few years after my father passed away:

".....I'm sorry I didn't respond earlier and I'm even more sorry for not having been more persistent about checking up on you when I heard your mother had passed away. The reality was that I had gone into my own cocoon of sorts. That's not a valid excuse though. I should have been there as a friend.

It truly pains and upsets me to read this and to realize the pain you've been through and the burden you've had to carry the past few months. Finding out my dad passed away and the months/year that followed have been the worst time of my life and yet that still pales in comparison to what you went/are going through. But I relate to the bad dreams of specific moments, the painfully fake exchange of pleasantries when truly that has never seemed more trivial. I want to say it gets better but we both know that it isn't that easy. You don't grow out of/forget/go back to how things were. Family seems incomplete, the house seems emptier, life seems a little less meaningful. And more than feeling sad you just feel indifferent and apathetic. At least that’s how I felt.

As clichéd as it sounds its important you remember your mother for the good/happy times and not the month leading up to when she passed away cause it will only drain you. My dad's passing away was sudden but for a while after all I could think of was how stressed and worn down he looked before he passed away and all the reasons why he was that way. And it still upsets me deeply. So I try to only think of the good times......."

Some of the things I didn't mention in that letter however, were the lucid moments of clarity. Moments when I'm completely and fully aware of the fact that he isn't here anymore and I'm washed with overwhelming feelings of loss, despair, insecurity, guilt, anger and an indescribable sense of unjustifiable loss.
Guilt and regret for not having spent more time at home as I know my dad was most happy when we kids were home, for not having gone home to try to help him with his business, for not having gotten a job earlier so I could have helped alleviate some of that financial stress, for not having insisted that he exercise more/not work as much so that his quality of life in general had been better.
Anger that my dad is not allowed the privilege of seeing Amy and Josh graduate, that Josh was robbed of the right to have his dad put him in university and the fact that he wont be there to see us marry and/or have kids.

But as I said, I try to remember all the good times and all the reasons my father pushed himself, worked as hard and cared as much as he did. And even though he went before his time, I believe he accomplished more and touched more lives than most people that live well into old age. And its that thought that helps me move forward.  

I miss you Pap. You achieved success here because you persevered relentlessly, cared fervently, and loved steadfastly. For that....thank you!!

Memoirs of Me

So its approximately a year since I went to Zambia and as I reminisce nostalgically, I wonder how much I've changed since then. The question is, 'what did I truly gain from that experience?'. I mean there's no doubt about the experience in itself and the lessons learnt from them but how much have I directly applied that to my life. Has Zambia become just another memory to add to the memoir of my life?

Shamefully I must admit that much of the passion, ethusiam, and visions of change that I came back with has since been left lying dormant or lost due to the worries and routine of everyday life. It makes me wonder if that is what is to become of us young people. Is losing our passions and ideals the only path to adulthood? We come to university seeking, searching, learning, ...growing; our drive coming from our young idealistic 'we can conquer the world' point of view, only to lose it along the way.

When I came back last summer, I met a woman who had had a similar experience as me on a placement to Togo (if I remember correctly). We connected on so many different levels - cynicism on the role of the west and the church in Africa; the limitations and flaws in the implementation of development; the difference in pace of life; memories of street vendors, african music/dancing, nigerian movies, hanging out of minivans used for public transportation, the marriage proposals and the uniqueness of the people and their culture. She was one of the few people who understood the frustrations of questions like, "so how was Africa?" But I also remember thinking how different the two of us were. She had come back and was now working a regular 9-5 job. I had naively told myself I wouldnt be like that, and that I was going to make a difference. I had clear ideas of how I was going to implement all that I had expereinced and make that conscious choice to have a positive impact. Yet here I am one year later, not having helped make a difference or having made any clear distinct steps towards that goal for change that I had set for myself.

Actually, I shouldnt be so hard on myself, I cant say that I havent changed or grown at all since last year. To say the least, I've definitely gained a different perpective on life, as I believe all our experiences help us gain. But I'm reminded that I havent achieved all that I set out to accomplish yet. And I cannot afford to forget that, because I truly believe that 'our lives end the moment we think there is nothing left to change'

The real people of Zambia

It’s amazing what one can learn from and about a person by just walking with them –masks of stereotypes fall and all you are left with are human beings and the lines on the faces that represent their lives stories. After having lived in the village for the past few weeks suddenly ‘rural’ people don’t seem as rural anymore.

Lovemore Sipukula, the captain doesn’t look a day over 30 in my opinion but he’s just turned 47, the only sign of which are the few lines around his eyes. A leader, a motivator, a believer, a visionary; still single because he claims to not want to deal with the troubles of a married life; skilled in not just farming but also in bricklaying, sand mining, animal rearing and the list goes on. He’s decided that he wants to give back to the community and so decided to work with my partner organization. He understands the need for the community to take ownership of its development. He pushes the project on and boosts the morale of the rest of the VCFs, who he considers family, when they don’t see the point or the light at the end of the tunnel; he sees the assets of the community even if they don’t necessarily, and recognizes the endless possibilities. He once told me, as we were on one of our many walks to visit a fellow friend in another village, “you know Chimbo (my community given name), the real job lies in motivating the people. If you want to mobilize the resources of a community you need to first mobilize the people”. I was impressed. He has plans to start goat rearing as there has been a drastic decline in livestock rearing since the epidemic that took place 10 yrs ago. When livestock were dying by the hundreds, leaving whole families to take up farming as a form of livelihood. He doesn’t have the initial capital to start it yet but he’s determined. He’s saving up.

Gladys Kabongola Chama, a widow with six children, was kind enough to gift me a chicken. She says I haven’t tasted a real chicken until I’ve eaten a chicken from the village, none of that GMO stuff she says. She said she lost her husband two years ago. They told her it was a severe case of malaria. She now farms maize on her own with her six children. She says she wasn’t able to yield enough maize to sell because she didn’t have enough fertilizer which is very expensive. She spends whatever spare time she can afford volunteering with my organization. She wants to start an adult literacy class.

Ebby, like a true Tonga man, likes his women as much as his drink, and also very smart. Smooth with his words and a quick learner. He is one I would call a “Public Relations” man. Still single for obvious reasons but insists that he’ll settle down one day and has asked me to find him a Muzungu (foreigner) wife like myself. He wears second hand Italian shoes (which seem to be the fashionable thing for men to wear in Zambia) as he rides his bicycle that he received from World Vision. He farms cotton and maize for a living.

Nicolas, a small built man with a million dollar smile, a church elder, a father, a farmer. His family has been farming maize ever since his father (a well known member and cattle rearer of the community) lost 400 of his cattle to the epidemic. He used to work for Dunavant, a cotton distributing company, but he wasn’t receiving his monthly wages from his supervisor. He tried to complain to the manager in the head office in Lusaka. But the supervisor was paly with the manager at the head office, and so his complaints fell on deaf ears thereby forcing him to quit his job. He’s back to farming maize again. He always insists on giving me a ride on his bicycle on my way to the Information Centre even though the poor man seems like he’s about to croak at the end of the journey. He says I’m a heavy woman but he’s a used man and can carry my weight all the way to Lusaka if he had to.

Juliet Kofu, a widow of three children and also my host mom. Makes MacGyver references and improvises like one too (she’s able to ride a bicycle that has no breaks and has its pedals missing). Farms enough maize to keep the family going. Wants to start growing cotton but doesn’t have the manpower to do it. She insists I add glycerin to my body lotion (which it seems like all Zambians do) to help get rid of my dry skin and refuses to let me wear my pants until I let her wash it for me because it’s too dirty (I think differently ;)). She watches patiently as I struggle to cook nshima and takes over when I finally give up. Leslie, Sharon and Veronica act a lot like the way my siblings and I do. Leslie is a spunky 15 yr old, who can be loud, nutty and bullies her sisters because she knows she can. Sharon is 12 yrs old, quieter than her other two sisters, has a head on her shoulders and a hard worker who will do the household chores without being asked. Veronica is a 9 year old who is relatively tall for her age, has a cute smile and a twinkle in her eye that spells mischief.

Fights for the last bit of relish during supper by the fire are usually between Leslie and Veronica. This is because Leslie believes she’s been in the world longer which makes her entitled to it, Sharon (much like my sister Amy) sits quietly because she’s been in the world long enough to know that arguing with the first born is a lost battle and truly, a piece of fish is really not worth all that effort and energy, while Veronica (much like my brother Josh) has clearly not been in the world long enough to realize that pearly wisdom. I watch amused, realizing how much I’ve come to adore these girls and miss my own siblings.

As I sit by the fire at the end of the day watching Juliet and the girls cook nshima for supper, sharing with each other the stories of the day and singing as we all watch the sun set I recognize that these people are my Dorothy. If there was any doubt before as to if I should have come here, they aren’t there now to say the least. They’re real people with virtues and flaws just like any of us. They have the same needs, wants and desires. They take pride in their country, themselves, their children, their farms and nshima making skills. Beautiful, intelligent, hardworking, calloused, hospitable, trusting, God fearing, and peaceful- these are the real people of Zambia.

Africa 2000 Network- Zambia and me

I realize that I haven’t actually told people what I’m doing or what I’m working on. So here’s some information on my organization and areas I might be working on.

My organization Africa 2000 Network is involved in localizing the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs) through mapping and profiling of community villages and then coming up with a Community Action Plan which they can then, in turn, turn into project proposals. It sounds fancy which it isn’t but it’s definitely very interesting.

The Millennium Development Goals are goals hoped to be met by 2015. They include goals like ending hunger and child poverty and ending HIV/AIDS etc. However translating those goals to the village level is almost always unsuccessful and is very difficult because it’s imposed by the government or donors on the people through different projects which the people themselves either don’t really need (like just providing food relief which undermines the local farmers produce) or the people just don’t think they need it. It is not a process that they usually initiate themselves, monitor, and control or own. So people are starting to realize that these top down approaches to development just don’t work and for the most part, the most vulnerable and small scale farmers get left behind.

So the question is how do we decentralize development and make goals like the MDGs realistic and attainable at the community level. That’s what Africa 2000 Network is trying to do. A2N in Zambia is using an approach called the Participatory Development Management to bring meaning to decentralization at the local community level. The approach is meant to empower the village to draw up their own development plans which can then be used as building blocks for projects at a higher level.

All that is essentially achieved through the mapping and profiling which is then used to construct their community action plan. So members from the village/community map out their own village which helps them not only recognize key areas of problem but also helps them recognize the assets of their village. They then go out and do the profiling which essentially means that they go to different households of a mapped out village and ask them questions related to the MDGs - what kind of diseases family often suffer from, amount of crops they produce and how much they're able to sell and how long it lasts them, distance to the nearest school etc. Once all that information is collected and compiled it can then be analyzed by the villagers themselves to see the areas of improvement (like for example transportation of crops is too expensive because of the distance of the nearest market) and actions they should/can take to improve their own situation (e.g. form a collective cooperative so that they can come together to sell their goods and all pitch in for transportation). This procedure helps the community recognize their areas of need themselves and helps them take ownership of their own wellbeing instead of being dependent on handouts from NGOs and/or subsidies from the government. Other areas where they need external support they can get by making business proposals which they can give to NGO's or the government.

I've come to realize that there are so many NGO's that have more money than they know what to do with and they want to help but don’t know where to put those resources into. So they end up spending large sums of money on projects which are either not appropriate for the people living there (like for example spending half million dollars on sending a little outdated but fancy medical equipment to a hospital in Africa without taking into consideration if the community actually needed it, if there were people trained to use them and people who could fix them. So the equipments ended up becoming half a million dollar worth of paper weights. Or even building a well in an area that already has four neighbouring wells) or the people reject it (e.g. building a community center without taking into consideration that the community values and/or is structured such that children play together anyway within compounds and people consider old folk to be a part of their responsibility and so the community center was abandoned).
So these project proposals will help the government implement appropriate strategies and policies at the district level and NGO's fund appropriate projects without reinventing the wheel by doing an exact project that another NGO might have worked on already.

So I know this is sounding long winded but I've just had an overload of all this info and come to realize so much over the past 2 months. Anyway so they're trying to implement this project for the first time in Zambia. It has been successful in other parts of Africa like Ghana but is a pilot project in Zambia. Here we are trying this out in two particular districts Mazabuka and Chibombo districts.

So the question is, where do I fit in? I will be facilitating and helping out in the progress in the Chibombo district. So I'm still defining my role but I will most likely be ensuring that the mapping is completed and profiling is done appropriately and help in compiling of the information. Since this is a pilot project a lot of work has to be done and a lot of it has yet to be defined so it’s pretty neat because I feel like I should be able to contribute and help define the project up to a certain extent. I should be able to help facilitate the process in developing the Community Acton Plan by guiding the Village Facilitators in their thought process. The profiling questions need refining and I can help develop the trust of the villagers with A2N. I could also possibly be the contact person for the NGOs in the district like World Vision, Plan etc. So we'll see. I still have to figure things out myself. They're areas I have recognized as potential areas of capacity building. I’ll let you know how it goes as and when I have a chance.

Rants and Rambles

So I’ve been in Lusaka for two and a half weeks now and it’s been interesting. I’m a little confused, frustrated, have come to be a little cynical, have reinforced how ignorant I am and discovered the musical talents of Uncle Ja and MC Wabwino.

For as long as I’ve been in Lusaka, every time I’ve been to the Lusaka City market I’ve never actually received a lot of attention really, which is something I came expecting to tell you the truth. After all I’m Indian and we’re everywhere really (its all part of our master plan to take over the world). On occasion I would hear people yell out ‘Muzungu’ (white person) or have a bunch of people trying to sell me stuff but that was only because I was with Kate and/or Holly. But I decided to venture to the market on my own for the first time last week. To say the least it was different. I went expecting not to get any attention but I was definitely wrong. I definitely got attention. There were a few people yelling ‘Indian’ and a lot of people trying to sell me something. In my vain attempts to break down the stereotype of a rude, pompous Indo-Zambian I felt the need to say, ‘Muli bwanji’ to anyone that called out to me. Lesson learnt? Don’t make eye contact, not everyone who asks you how you are doing genuinely wants to know how you’re doing, and annoyingly persistent boys and street vendors are cross cultural. There were also a few odd people in the market like the guy who tried to trip me but then there are a lot of odd people in Toronto too. However, the women were sweet and easy to talk to. They were surprised when I would greet them in Nyanja and would proceed to converse with me in Nyanja without realizing that my Nyanja went as far as hello, thank you and where is the toilet. Overall it was a good experience but left me a little confused as to how people really perceive Indo Zambians, me and/or if they even perceive me as an Indo Zambian to begin with.

Last Thursday we went to a village called Lukanga that was particularly vulnerable and seem to be having a lot of problems. They live near a swamp which not only makes the soil really rich but also allows for other forms of profession like fishing. It was really interesting to see the dynamics. The main profession and I realized the only form of livelihood for the people of that village is fishing. There is a problem of malaria in the area and that’s because the mosquito nets provided by the nearest hospital which is 12 kms away are being used as fishing nets. Because the mosquito nets are cheaper which they can get from the nearest clinic and the holes are smaller which allows them to catch small fish called kapenta more easily. But because of this increase in kapenta fishing there has been a drastic decline in the amt of fish in the swamp and the people are suffering.

There is no school but a church is being used to school about 260 children from grade 1-4 by the only 2 teachers in the community. The irony of the situation is that there are over 5-6 churches in a village that doesn’t even have well built homes to house the people themselves. I've come to be very cynical of the role churches play in Africa in alleviating poverty and am starting to question their true intentions. I was always a strong believer in the role the church played in helping improve people’s lives and the genuineness of the reasons behind it. I mean why else would Christians want to help others apart from the fact that they truly understand what it means to love your neighbour as thyself. Boy was I naive. We have become the Pharisees of this century. Hypocrites are we to be so quick to want to spread the ‘faith’ without stopping to realize that faith without works is dead. Zambia is a country that is 90% Christian yet has 16% of its population suffering from AIDS as the churches discourage the use of condoms while pastors divorcing for the second or third time are publicly announced in the newspaper and priests running in politics try to get the support of the people by using Gods name. Yet we turn a blind eye by keeping ourselves busy building the 100^th church. Christ would be ashamed of us. But it isn’t as bad as I might have made it sound. I’ve also been impressed by the faith people have though. I truly believe if you don’t have a hope in something there isn’t much worth living for. And these people with the little they might have or not have they are happy and have faith that things will be better and that is something we can all learn from. We get stressed and overloaded and truly make ourselves believe at times that we wont make it through the day yet there are some villagers who have such faith and belief. Hats off to them I say.

The returning LTOVs stayed at the palace this weekend. The wealth of knowledge and experience they have is amazing and how that has shaped their opinions and the way they think is admirable and desirable. To be critical enough to be grounded in reality yet passionate enough to sacrifice and love and continue doing what they do. And when you see that in a person, for a moment you get a glimpse of how great they truly can be and how much of a difference they truly can make in this world. And even though they don’t see all that potential in themselves, you do and you know that’s what you want for yourself. I think that’s why organizations like EWB have had as much of an impact as they have. It isn’t because people are inspired by how much EWB has accomplished but on occasion you see what it can accomplish and you’re inspired. I know I was - that night as they discussed history, politics, development, their past, their future, and their work so far as development workers and their commitment to development whatever road of life they might take. But with that came painful awareness – of how little I do know about so much. And how much I need to know before I can go trying to save the world. I realize that passion will definitely help you have impact but it’s the knowledge and experience that helps you make right choices in order to have that positive impact.

For the past few days Kate and myself have been trying to get out of Lusaka and to get our temporary permit but everything seems to be working against us. The world including the Zambian Immigration Office seems to be conspiring against us. I’ve always considered myself a relatively patient and flexible person who is able to go with the flow, and up until today I thought I was doing quite well really. But sometime during the time I was standing in that Immigration line which took 2 hrs I think something snapped inside me. We stood in that line for 2 hrs only to have the man tell us that the certified cheques, that took us over a week to get, was addressed to the wrong person *snap*. I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I refrained. Instead smiled, said dzikomo to the finance guy and walked away as I planned his assassination in my head.

So here I sit writing to you without permit in hand, and no idea when I’ll actually get to Chiwombo where I was supposed to have been a week ago, listening to Uncle Ja whose songs ring in my head all day long which might have something to do with the fact that his songs can be heard being blared from every second car or road side shop.

".................baby osabisa kapena kuliwina wamene wapeza, its better ukabe................."

Etenrnally surprised

So after a week of intense training and a 24 hr plane ride I'm finally here in Lusaka, Zambia. We had training sessions on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday we met with my partner organization, Africa 2000 Network. To say the least the past few weeks have been a blur and a roller coaster ride of emotions.
The week long training in Toronto was really good. I now know so much more about development and am suddenly painfully aware of how much I don't know about it too. But for now I have a vague idea of where I fit into the grand scheme of development or hope at least am on the right road to figuring it out. But I now realize that there are so many levels and steps to go through before development can be achieved and so much that people need to know and plan before they can just go help the 'starving children'. It’s because of this gap or lack of knowledge that Africa and its people are directly suffering. We as individuals don’t truly realize the impact of our actions. And that realization can come only when we start introspecting ourselves and start asking questions- the right questions, and realizing that we don’t have all the solutions. The solution seems simple enough yet we haven’t really applied them to our own lives. So how do we help the 'starving, homeless children'? Do we just give them money or food? Or is building them a house the solution? Will the problem then go away? The question we ought to be asking is why don’t they have food or a home? Why is it that they don’t have food to begin with? These are some of the questions we have to ask ourselves before we can truly understand the complexity and root causes of poverty and go about helping our fellow brethren. Like I said all this seems so simple but it took me a week long training to figure that out.
I remember coming into training thinking that I know what poverty is. I've lived in India I must know what poverty is. I've been there, seen that and bought the T-shirt. How foolish was I and what was I thinking. My knowledge was truly just a scratch on the surface. I was someone on the outside looking in. I was ashamed of myself; here I was, someone who had been given the better end of the stick in life and with so many choices and opportunities. I had had the power to make a difference yet there are non-Indians who know more about how my country works and the state of the less fortunate than I do and even more committed to improving the lives of my people than even myself. And I wonder how many of us are truly living our lives blissfully ignorant, caught up in our own worries and struggle to live that ‘American dream’ or ‘Indian dream’ or ‘African dream’. It saddens me. I’m driven to change and not live in my own little box….for now. I hope and pray that I don’t lose that passion or forget the bigger picture along the way.