Sunday, September 21, 2008

For nearly everyone in Zambia, Sunday is a day for church and family.  The shops are closed and the streets are deserted until early afternoon.  We generally look forward to the quiet to get caught up on email, to hand-wash some clothes, and to rest a little, and this morning was no exception.  Later, as soon as things began rolling again in Ndola, we headed out to Kantolomba to meet with the ladies there.

We had just one large task we hoped to accomplish in the afternoon.  We wished to video the women telling the stories of their lives in Kantolomba before they were “adopted” by Living Compassion (this is the way they describe it to themselves), and the change that has happened since becoming involved.  We are hoping that this footage will give those in America a chance to experience the people here in a way that is not possible through still photographs.  We set up the camera on the porch of our nearly finished medical and classroom building, and, with Theresa translating, interviewed the women one by one.

Waiting to begin
 

Theresa and “the old lady,” Margaret
 

Theresa and Angela
 

It was wonderfully moving to watch these women speak from their hearts and to hear their gratitude.  Here are some of the things they said:

Veronica told us that when she was a girl she had been forced to quit school when she became pregnant with her first child.  Now, with the help of the project, she was going back to school and hoped to finish grade 12 next year.

Beatrice told us that before she was employed her family did not often manage to eat more than once a day, and sometimes not even then.  Now they can afford to eat three times a day.  “It is a miracle for us!” she said.  “It seems like it has come from God that you are helping us.”

Georgina has six children.  Not long ago she was selling charcoal beside the road to try to make enough money to feed them.  Now her children are going to school.  She can even buy them clothes, she said.

Margaret, the one they call “the old lady,” said that she never thought she would make a salary in her old age.  She used to sleep on the floor and did not even have a blanket.  Now she has a mattress, she said, and can give food to her children and grandchildren.

Agnes, one of our new employees, told us about the difference in her life after only one month working for Living compassion.  The first time she was paid she went to the market and bought a whole bag of mealy-meal—the first time she has ever possessed so much food at one time.  She is looking forward to getting “fat” she said (to tell someone they are fat, here in Zambia, is considered a great compliment—it means you are healthy) and to becoming a part of the team.

More powerful even than the particulars of these women’s stories was the glimpse their narrations gave us into the extreme poverty they and all those who live in Kantolomba have labored under for so long.  Truly, it is a wonder that anyone has survived.  Many have not, of course; those that have, like these women, all have found some hard way to scrape together enough money to keep starvation at bay.  They may have brewed the illicit liquor that the compound is known for, gathered firewood from the bush, sold something beside the road, or just begged from their neighbors, but all of them have refused to give up.  It was remarkable how many said, as their first statement after their age and name, that they were widows.  Imagine what it must have been like for them, without help, while caring for six, seven, eight children, to struggle each day for the small bag of nchima that would keep them all alive.  Imagine also how it must have felt for them to be seen by someone who cares and to have been given the means to end their hunger.

Violet, Christina, Angela, and others
 

Foster 

After the taping was finished Beatrice shyly presented us with a letter, written in the most beautiful cursive by her husband, Duncan, who is a teacher at one of the local schools (Beatrice has no English).  This letter perfectly captures the gratitude of the people here and the beauty of the work we are doing.  Representing both himself and his wife, Duncan wrote:

Dear Living Compassion around the world, 

Greetings from Ndola, Zambia.  It is with much gratitude of heart as a family to thank you a lot for the excellent work you have performed towards us in the family of seven.  For providing to us the most needed needs that every family on our Zambian soil is struggling to achieve in the world of today.

Your coming to our community attaches great importance towards us.  You come to restore our human dignity.  Mankind without a shelter and food is none respected at all.  That is how we were before you came to us.  We were a lost people.  But now history is changing in Kantolomba community.

In respect of you we would say that you are unbeatable where your true love, your true compassion, and your co-operation are concerned.  Many of us have been rescued from the pit of shame and rejection.  Our poor house structures have been well rehabilitated, plastered, and well roofed in our community.  All these have been done alone by the Living Compassion project.  We could not afford all these things on our own efforts.

Your project has purged away the ignorance that did exist for some, especially some of the brothers and sisters who lived in isolation, because of the traditional values and religions.  Today we have been united as one without any hindrances of culture, tribe, and religious background.  This has come because of Living Compassion.  We have one tribe of love that works together to bring up one thing, that is development of our community.  We are changing for the better every day.  Even our small children are able to learn to write and read.

May you continue with the work you have started.  You shall return one day to see the children you are supporting today reach the heights of prominence and also help others who are living in the vulnerable societies.  All these are done through the power and support of Living Compassion Team of America.

Yours faithfully,
Beatrice Kasenzi, and husband Duncan Muzala.

Gratitude was the theme of the day, and has been the theme of this whole trip, really: gratitude both to those in the States and elsewhere who so generously support the work in Kantolomba, and to each person in Kantolomba who works every day to turn that generosity into something that saves lives and returns dignity, as Duncan wrote, to the people. 

Most of the women got up soon to pack the handbags they had made into a large duffle for the journey to America.  Others of us went to inspect the work on the roof of our school building that had been going on in the background all this while.  Sam, the carpenter in charge of this portion of the project, had volunteered to work on Sunday so that the job could be done before we left on Tuesday.  He was there with his first-born son, installing the metal roofing sheets against the rains that will soon be coming to Zambia.

Georgina folding bags
 

Packing
 

Sam
 

Much to do
 

The nearly finished roof, with cemetery in the background
 

It was difficult to leave the compound as the day came to an end and the light began to soften towards evening.  Many who have come with us to Zambia have remarked that, while life in Kantolomba is as different as could be from anything they had ever known, they felt as much at home there as anywhere else on earth.  There is something special about being in Kantalomba.  In America, of course, most people have plenty of food to eat.  Most have clothes, and good houses, and every other material thing they might need.  Often, however, we do not have the peace we are looking for.  This peace is what we receive from the work we do in Africa.  All the people involved, black and white, here and across the ocean, are working together for a common good.  A sort of magic comes from this that cannot really be described, but can be felt by everyone who sets foot on the property.  Together we are creating peace. 

The garden
 

Collecting water before heading home
 

Posted in 2008 Trip Blogs

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Saturday is not a working day for the Living Compassion team.  It is a day to rest and renew.  Theresa had arranged for this particular Saturday to be a day of celebration of all the people involved in the project, both here and in America.

Arriving early at the compound for the event, accompanied by Friday, we found that the women were already assembled, dressed proudly in their uniforms (a red t-shirt and a matching chitenge wrap-around skirt).  They were seated together behind the kitchen building, talking and laughing as usual. It was obvious, seeing them there, that every day here is a celebration of the project: even if they had not been summoned they would have come.  They just love to be together.

Morning gathering

The day began with a meeting of the newly formed “men’s cooperative.”  So far our partnerships in Kantolomba have been mostly with the women.  It was natural, given our needs for the project and the culture existing in the compound, that this would be so.  During the summer trip, however, Cheri, in one of her regular flashes of insight and inspiration, realized that the time had come to bring the men on board.  The men need support for their growth out of poverty as much as the women do, and we are now ready to assist.

The men in Kantolomba are in a really tough spot.  They have no work, and without work have no productive role in their community.  Strong gender expectations prevail that do not permit the men to contribute as they otherwise might.  We have seen some evidence this trip that the roles the men are trapped in are slowly breaking up: men and women out and about as couples, for example; men holding babies and caring for young children in active ways, and so on.  The other day our driver, Simon, asked if we might take a detour in order to pick up his two beautiful daughters from school.  We said yes, and were privileged to see how proud he is of them, and how much he obviously participates in their care.  There are plenty of men like this around.  Still, most men that we see, having no traditional way to contribute to the community, drink or follow other self-destructive pathways instead.

We began to bring the men into the project with Friday and his carpentry team.  Soon afterwards, these men and others who have worked on the building at one time or another, seeing the good things happening for the women, formed the “Men’s cooperative” as a way of coming together to support each other and do some good for the community.  This morning was their first official meeting.

The meeting was attended by all the male employees of Living Compassion, including the security guards and the two new carpenters, plus John, the plumber mentioned yesterday, and James, the foreman of the building project.  Friday facilitated the conversation and translated.

Charles, Evaristo, and Peter

Winter, Rubin, and Christopher

First the men congratulated themselves on being there: this was likely the first meeting of its kind in Kantolomba, they said.  They then went on to the main topic of discussion: what are the difficulties facing the men in Kantolomba, and what can be done to make a difference?

Everyone agreed that the main problem is the lack of employment.  All the other troubles men have stem from this one.  What is needed, they said, is industry.  The men need work to do that enables them to help support their families and their community, and gives them a purpose in living day to day.  They need something to be proud of.  We need to create industry, they said, that will bring people to Kantolomba for goods and services, and bring their money with them.  Several possibilities were suggested: we could make concrete blocks or bricks, they said; we could start a commercial farm; or (this was the most popular idea by far) we could create a welding shop where people could buy window frames like the ones in our very own building.

If the cooperative could acquire some capital, then tools and raw materials could be purchased, and production could begin.  After people were compensated for their labor, any money that was made would go back into the cooperative to buy the next batch of materials and gradually expand the business.  Someone mentioned that there has been talk of the possibility of opening a store to sell chitenge dresses or other tailored items, tie-dyed cloth (one of the industries that the women are contemplating), perhaps enriched baked good, and other things.  With this an exciting vision opened up for all of us, it seemed.  Someone might come to the property for a load of blocks, to have something welded, or to have some tailoring done.  They might come for water or health care, or for some healthy food.  We might develop a reputation as the place to go for well-made goods and reliable services, and in this way bring money and work to the community.  The men all agreed: this is something we want to do.

Next, the men named AIDS as the second largest challenge facing the men of Kantolomba.  Men do not take the disease seriously, they said, and so they create huge problems for everyone, including themselves.  Men need to be educated about the situation, convinced of the necessity of having themselves tested for the virus, and counseled about ways to take responsibility for the crisis that is happening.  “How can we do this?” they asked themselves.

“By being examples,” they answered.  The men of Kantolomba need models of men who are not hemmed in by tradition and are willing to take the steps necessary to protect themselves and others.

Last, we discussed the drinking problem in the community.  This led quickly back to the problem of employment, because, the men said, this is the main problem, not the drinking.  The men drink only because they have nothing else to do.

This conversation took about an hour and a half.  It appeared as if everyone was pleased with it.  Towards the end the women, who were assembled below us near the kitchen building (we met in the new insaka up on the hill), began singing.  It was most pleasant to sit there with those guys, talking hopefully about the challenges they face, while the breeze carried the women’s voices up to us.  Finally, we stood up to shake hands on our accomplishment.

The Men’s Cooperative

The women were ready for us when we descended.  “Have you finished?” asked Theresa.  We told her that we had.  “Then we must go!” she said.

“Where are we going?” we asked.

“You will see!”

At this the women—all 23 of them—began to sing at the top of their voices.  They formed themselves into a parade and began to dance their way slowly past the gate and out onto the road, all the while singing like angels.  Over and over they sang the same song while they danced, clapping their hands and cheering between verses.

The parade begins

 Theresa translated the words of the song.  They went something like this:

The Lord has made a way for us.
Look at what Living Compassion has done!
You can even see it—we are amazed!

Soon we reached Anne’s house, which was nearby.  The women all gathered in front of the house with Anne in front, dancing.  Anne then began to lead them in a new song, which they sang with all of their hearts while they danced and pointed up to Anne’s new roof.

At Anne’s house

Translated, the song went:

Come and see what the Lord has done for me.
I have a roof!  I have food to eat!
Thank you, Living Compassion!

At the end Theresa shouted, “What have we found here, ladies?”

They all pointed up and shouted in return: “We have found a roof!”

Then they broke into the original song, paraded out into the road, and sang and danced their way to the next house with a new roof, then the next, all through the compound, until they had celebrated at every one in the same way.  The people in the community gaped at us as we went by.  Soon we had dozens of children dancing with us and following along.   It was a most amazing celebration.

From here the pictures will speak for themselves.

Parading down the main road.

Josephine and her family in front of their house.

Foster and her family in front of their house.

Joy in Kantolomba

Christina and her family

Beatrice, her husband Donald, and family

Violet’s house

Violet with her grandchildren

Angela and Martha with their families

The parade lasted a good hour and a half, and the women never stopped singing the whole time.  Sweat poured from their faces, but their smiles never faded for an instant.  Veronica sang so hard that she was unable to speak afterwards.  Finally, we all ended up where we began, sitting behind the kitchen building.  Together the women sang one last, slow, song, very softly, then they cheered and were finished.

If only everyone reading these words could have been there to see the joy of those people!  So much good has happened here!  Anyone who has given money to support the work, or who has raised funds from others, or who has participated in a retreat, or an email class, or the radio show, or any other way, has a share in these people’s happiness.  Let us all be grateful for the good we have done.

“Time for nchima!”

Posted in 2008 Trip Blogs

Friday, September 19, 2008

The morning began with an early walk to town—a most special treat.  The best way by far to experience Africa is on foot.  In a car you are separate from the people, but on foot you become one of them.  Everyone here walks.  Every time we come back there are more cars on the road, but it is still the case that only a tiny percentage of the population can afford to transport themselves in that way.  Everywhere you go, nearly all the time, people are walking on both sides of the road.  They laugh and sing as they walk along, they meet acquaintances and stop to chat, and they buy the things they need from vendors along the way.  There is a feeling of community in this that is striking to those of us who were raised to live in the isolating world of cars and televisions.  Walking along with everyone else, the only white people in sight, we enjoy greeting people as if we belong there with them—because, we have realized, we do belong there with them.  This was the decision we made when we first began our work in Ndola, that we were coming here to participate from within the community, rather than imposing something upon it from without.  This is likely what makes us different from some other NGOs (non-government organizations) in the eyes of the people—we understand that we all are one.

On the road near the guesthouse
 

Nearing town
 

The first appointment was with Theresa at the passport office.  We have an ambition to bring her to the States next year for our annual fundraiser, the Walk Across the Golden Gate Bridge (this year’s walk is happening soon, on October 4—don’t miss it!).  There is a lot of red tape to untangle between now and then to make that happen, beginning with a passport, so we are getting started now. 

Simon, our new taxi driver, was watching outside.  One of the assignments for this trip was to find a reliable driver to replace our friend Muyunda, who disappeared mysteriously last year.  It is likely we have him in Simon.  He is a good man.  Simon said that Theresa was still within.

Simon
 

Theresa emerged from the passport office with the necessary forms.  She will fill them out over the weekend and turn them in on Monday.  We are told she will then need to wait two weeks for her passport to arrive.  Nothing of this sort has ever been so easy in Ndola, but we are optimistic.  Together we then drove across town, talking about America and what it is like there, to a photo shop, where Theresa got her passport photos made.

“I’m going to America!”
 

Meanwhile, we had arranged to meet with Gaudencia at a café in town.  We are doing everything in our power to wrap up all the details of our building construction before the trip ends.  It is extremely difficult to communicate about technical things of this nature from twelve thousand miles away; much better to get everything sorted out when we can actually look at the building and know we are talking about the same things.  We spent an hour over coffee studying the plans and making our final decisions. 

In the café with Theresa and Gaudencia
 

We then set our minds to buy metal sheets for two more of the houses we are roofing in Kantolomba.  We are under some time pressure to get them finished, as the rains will begin in a little less than a month.  We were hoping to have the materials at the site for the carpenters when they went back to work after lunch, but we were unsuccessful.  We went to every hardware store in town, but nobody had the size we needed.  Not at all surprised (this is life as usual in Africa), but a little frustrated, we decided to head out to Kantolomba to measure the houses in question and see what we should do.

One of the local hardware stores.
 

When we arrived we found two people waiting for us.  One was John, the man doing the plumbing work on our building.  He had an estimate to hand over on the next phase of his job, and an unrelated offer.  John told us that he has extensive training and experience teaching health-care basics to children.  He volunteers for an NGO on the other side of the city, he said, and enjoys it very much.  He offered to teach a health-care class once a week for the children of Kantolomba.  We were touched by the offer.  We have had so many experiences of generosity here!  It is moving to see people selflessly offering to serve who themselves are struggling to survive.  It could be this spirit more than anything else that inspires those of us in America in our own service.  We are learning from them how to truly give.

John, the plumber
 

Francis, the electrician, was waiting as well.  We had phoned him earlier in order to set up a meeting to settle on his labor charge for the electrical work we want him to do.  This took some doing, as it turned out.  Our negotiations began in English but moved to Bemba when things started heating up.  Nobody can bargain like an African, and no African, we have learned, can bargain like Theresa.  It required a good ten minutes to arrive at a figure that everyone felt good about, but it was accomplished, finally, and the debate ended with smiles and congratulations.  We agreed that Francis would begin the work on Monday, then we jumped in the taxi and headed to the market to buy the supplies.

Francis and the shop owner (Francis’s nephew)
 

A view of Masala Market
 

It was two hours before we returned to Kantolomba.  By then the afternoon was beginning to wane.  Immediately we set off to find the carpenters so that we could resolve the complication around the roofing sheets.  They were finishing the preparatory work at Regina’s house.  It was a short piece of work to find a solution: we will use two short pieces instead of one long one, and overlap them, they said.  We can pick them up Monday morning.  Before we parted we stopped to pose for a group photo.

Evaristo and Pascal solve the roofing problem
 

Dave and “the boys”
 

On the way back to the property we ran into Pauline.  Pauline is one of our employees; she is out of work right now, however, because she has just had a baby girl.  We stopped to chat with her for a moment.  Pauline seemed shy, as if she had something important she wanted to tell Theresa.  She said something quietly in Bemba, then Theresa began dancing, singing, shouting happily in two languages, and celebrating in all sorts of other beautiful ways.  Amazed, we asked what was going on.  “She has named the girl ‘Theresa,’ after me!” Theresa said.

Theresa and Pauline celebrate “little Theresa”
 

We were delighted, but not at all surprised.  Theresa is a jewel.  The more we get to know her the more she commands our respect and admiration.  She is as strong and solid as a mountain.  Everyone here loves her—that’s clear.  They are also indebted to her for their lives, many of them.  She carries the entire project on her shoulders.  It is her energy that keeps everything moving and holds the whole possibility together.  If nothing more had come from our efforts here than to create a space for Theresa to discover the person that she is, it all would have been worth it.  And, of course, much more than just this has happened.  All the women who are involved, and now the men as well, have the same opportunity to find out who they are without the burden of extreme poverty.  It’s going to be fun to see what they do with this over time.

Back at the property we learned that the tailors had finished the handbags—all 325 of them!  This was cause for more singing and dancing.  It is one of the best benefits of being with the women in Kantolomba, that they sing and dance over every happy thing.  We decided we would test one of the bags to see if it was strong enough.  Georgina filled one with bricks, then swung it round and round.  Others took a turn with it also, and bounced it up and down, trying to break it, while the women laughed.  They were not able to tear even a stitch.  We all agreed that the bags are very strong, and then celebrated some more.

Georgina tests one of the handbags
 

After that we drove to the guesthouse with their singing still in our ears.  It is good that we are so happy.

Posted in 2008 Trip Blogs

Thursday, September 18, 2008

This morning began just as yesterday did, with a cheerful greeting from Friday and an early dash to Kantolomba.  Immediately upon arrival we went to check on the carpenters.  They finished roofing Anne’s house yesterday, we learned, and began on Regina’s this morning.  Regina guided us from the Living Compassion property to her home, which lies on the upper edge of the compound and overlooks the community.  Here we found “the boys,” as they are known to the women, hard at work.

The view from Regina’s house

Friday and Evaristo on the roof

Their first step is to install the round poles they employ here to hold up the metal roofing sheets.  These poles are an integral part of the local economy, along with grass for thatched roofs and reeds for making the mats people use here while sitting on the ground.  All of these materials are harvested from “the bush.”  Kantolomba lies on the very edge of Ndola; the bush begins at the edge of the compound, so the people of Kantolomba have easier access to these resources than people living closer to town.  Every day you can see people hauling raw materials from the bush on their backs and carrying them to town to trade for “kwacha,” the local currency.

While we watched the poles being installed, Theresa asked Regina for permission to tell the story of how she became involved with Living Compassion.  The story goes something like this:

Regina was married to a man who worked in the government in some capacity.  He was unfaithful to her and contracted HIV.  He did not tell Regina that this had happened and so infected her also.  Then he began to die.

As the wife of a government worker Regina was entitled to a sizeable life insurance benefit.  Unfortunately, before he died Regina’s husband made some sort of deal that destroyed nearly all of the benefit that she was due.  Regina was unable to access even the little that remained—a poor person has no power here as everywhere, and they simply refused to give it to her.  Suddenly Regina was left without means to care for her nine children.  Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, she developed a sore on her leg that became infected.  She did not have the money to seek medical treatment.  The sore got worse and worse, and gradually Regina resigned herself to an early death.

Theresa discovered her in this state and invited her to join the Living Compassion team.  We helped her recover the remaining money that was due to her, took her to the clinic to get her wound treated, and put her to work with a salary.  Regina’s life changed completely over a few short weeks, and she is now putting a new roof on her house.  Imagine Regina’s smile as she heard all of this described!

Regina (in her cooking clothes and hair net) and Pascal

Regina with children and granddaughter in front of her house

We all enjoyed the story so much that we asked Theresa to tell us some more.  She said that everyone who works for Living Compassion has a tale much like Regina’s.  Each person has in some way traded a life of hopelessness and despair for a life of hope and possibility.  She shared several of their stories with us.  The one that affected us the most was Anne’s.

Anne does not know how old she is but is probably around seventy.  She brought five children into the world.  Over the course of her life she has endured the death, one by one, of each of them.  The last one, her youngest boy, died just a few months ago.  The affect of the most recent death was to end Anne’s own chance of living out her old age, if things had gone as they ordinarily would have.  People here depend upon their children to care for them at the end of their lives.  Those who have no children will likely starve to death as soon as they become too old to work.  “She had no idea even who would bury her,” Theresa said.

Beautiful Theresa

As with Regina, it was at this point that Theresa noticed her and asked that she be brought onto the Living Compassion team.  Anne is now the person in charge of tending to the community water spigot and collecting the bits of money people give in exchange.  She has no English and cannot tell us herself how grateful she is, but it is easy to see.

Anne (with Friday)

Here is one more story we enjoyed:

Martha used to make a living (barely) brewing the local corn liquor that is sold in the bars on the way to the cemetery.  She hated it, partly because she could see the way drinking destroys the lives of people in the community, and partly because it is a filthy, unpleasant, and unprofitable way to live.  As with so many in Kantolomba, however, she had no choice: she must either brew the liquor or permit her family to starve.

Martha

Once again, Theresa and Living Compassion came to the rescue.  Theresa has an unfailing ability to see the good in people and to find appropriate ways for people to express that goodness.  Seeing how much Martha wanted to do good work and give something to her community, Theresa brought her on to the team.   The day after Martha was first paid, she gave away her brewing barrels and swore that she would never make liquor again as long as she lives.

Thinking about these stories during the walk back to our property, we asked Theresa why people are not begging her all the time to become involved.  “They are!” Theresa told us.  “They come to my house (a two-hour walk from Kantolomba) as early as five in the morning!”  Luckily, there is plenty of work to do.  We are feeding 350 of the three thousand hungry children here.  Perhaps some day we can bring the whole community on board.

Arriving back at the property, coincidentally, we found four new employees waiting to greet us: two women who will join the team that cooks for the children, and two security guards who watch the place at night.

Agnes and Foster

Jackson and Winter

We also found two men waiting to be interviewed in the hopes that they might become members of Friday’s carpentry team.  We had decided before this current trip that we would like to hire two more men.  Upon arrival here we asked the women already on the team for their recommendations, and these two men, Peter and Rubin, were the ones they chose.  Both have worked on the construction of the medical building at various times, both have a reputation as hard workers, and both can be counted on to remain sober (a crucial qualification), the women said.

Friday conducted the interview while Theresa translated.  When the men had come to understand the job, the drinking policy (absolutely none), the salary, the hours, and all other details of this sort, Friday explained to them the attitude of mind we expect from our employees.

For Living Compassion, he explained, everyone is equal.  Everyone is equally worthy of compassion.  No person is more important than or more worthy of respect than another.    “Here there are no women and men,” he told them.  “There are just people.”  There are no jobs that only women do and only men do.  Everyone is expected to help out in whatever way they can.  People are here to work and earn a salary, but also to serve the community, and everyone is expected to give as much as they are able to the common good.  Friday also explained that honesty and integrity are the foundation of the relationships between the people of Living Compassion.  He then asked the two men if they shared, or if they would be willing to adopt, this attitude of mind.

Rubin and Peter agreed immediately.  With that, we told them they were hired, and the two expressed their gratitude for being given the opportunity.  We stood up, shook hands to seal the deal, and then the men went home to prepare themselves, as they will begin work tomorrow.

Friday with Rubin and Peter

The women then let us know that lunch was ready, and we all ate together inside the new building, on reed mats spread on the floor.

Dave and some of the gals

Baby David shows for lunch, too.

The remainder of the day was filled with the sorts of things that are vitally important to the success of a project like ours but not so interesting to relate (bookkeeping, for example).  Around 4:00 we wrapped things up, and headed back to the Castle Lodge for supper.

Vegetarian lasagna–yum

Posted in 2008 Trip Blogs

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Over time we have noticed that it takes a person’s body about three days to recover from the twelve-thousand-mile journey to Ndola.  This is particularly the case with my stomach, it seems, which even now, after more than forty-eight hours if Africa, appears to be lost somewhere over the Pacific Ocean.  Last night, as I lay awake, jet-lagged, through the wee hours as usual, I soaked up the African sounds and smells that came in through the windows of my room: the calls of strange nighttime birds, the people shouting in the distance in Bemba, the smoke that is always in the air….  It is good to be here, I thought to myself, in this place that has become a second home to me.

Friday picked me up first thing in the morning.  Readers of previous blogs will remember him well, I’m sure.  Our relationship with Friday began when he rescued us after our car broke down summer before last.  He quickly became our mechanic, and then our friend.  In July, impressed by his hard work and willingness, we hired him to oversee some of our projects in Kantolomba.  We look forward to a long and fruitful relationship with this most gentle man.

Friday
 

It was wonderful to see him.  I have a special place in my heart for Friday after all the hours we spent together over the hopeless task of resurrecting our Land Cruiser.  He greeted me in the nonchalant way he has, as if we had just seen each other yesterday.  Friday is more a man of action than a man of words, which suits me fine. After our simple hellos we jumped in his truck and headed out upon our day’s adventure.

I was eager to see Kantolomba again after a six-month absence.  We drove in the back way, over the hand-dug road through the hills from Luboto, and descended into the compound.  There was a dream-like quality for me in finding myself again on that rough dirt road, driving between the mud-brick houses and seeing the people of Kantolomba going about their daily life.  I have come to love that place more than just about any other on Earth: it is full of poverty and many forms of desperation, to be sure, but it is also full of possibility.  It has become for me a symbol of hope in the middle of our unhappy world.

The road into Kantolomba
 

I arrived without any particular notice.  A few children shouted “Masungo!” (“white person!”) as I passed, but not so many.  It is different now from the beginning of our work in Kantolomba, when few people there had ever seen white skin before.  Then, we were like rock stars, swarmed every time we arrived by screaming children.  As I got out of the truck I realized, with a warm feeling in my heart, that we have become a part of Kantolomba.  We are not strangers any more.  People know us, and the work we are doing: we belong here now.

Along the way we found Christopher and Pascal, the two carpenters we hired in July to install the new roofs that I mentioned yesterday.  They have been joined by Evaristo (local genius, winner of the national science competition last year, whom people will remember from previous blogs), who is working for Living Compassion while the next stage of his career becomes clear to him.  The three were hard at work roofing a house beside the road.

A newly roofed house
 

Christopher and Pascal
 

Evaristo
 

The house belongs to Anne, one of the Living Compassion women.  She is one of 19 who have received loans from generous trustees in America.  The loans are to put roofs on people’s houses so that they will survive the rainy season.   This is one of the tragedies that happens here each year: the houses in the compound, most of them, are roofed only with flattened fifty-gallon drums and bits of plastic.  About a third collapse during the rainy season each year, leaving the large families dwelling inside to shift as they may.  The loans will be paid off bit by bit over the next couple of years.  As the money returns it will be loaned out again, providing more families with the security of a strong and safe home. 

Anne’s house is brand new.  Her old house had a water line running right through her living room, so she decided to use part of her Living Compassion loan to tear down her existing house and rebuild it a few feet away, on the other side of the pipe.

While we admired the house and the work that was being done, Anne herself showed up, obviously amazed by what was happening, and grateful beyond expression.  “This is my house!  This is my house!” she kept saying.

Friday and Anne in front of Anne’s house
 

After congratulating the workers on their progress, Friday and I pressed on to the Living Compassion property.  We found Theresa there, who took me around to be welcomed by the other Living Compassion women.  They were mostly engaged in cooking and cleaning up from feeding the children.  They are feeding 350 now (can you believe it?) each day. The children come in shifts, between their classes, for their meal.  This is one of those things you really have to see to believe.  It is a monumental task every day to prepare so much food, especially as they cook over charcoal fires and must carry all the water from the nearby tap for cooking and clean-up.  The children sit on reed mats on the floor, and eat their food with their hands (the local custom) off of colorful plastic plates.  Theresa told me that the women went through sixty-five huge sacks of mealy-meal last month!  It is a happy thing to think of so much food coming into the compound, and all the healthy bodies, young and old (for the women and the carpenters eat each day as well) that are benefiting from this work.

Handwashing before lunch
 

Regina and Veronica serving “nchima”
 

Lunchtime
 

Together, those of us in America and those in Kantolomba have created something wonderful.  I knew this already before today, of course, but I understood it again this morning at a new level.  It really is astounding to think that I will leave here next Tuesday to go back to my regular life, but the good that is being done here will not stop.  These women will continue to show up day after day.  They will go on living out an opportunity that was unthinkable a short time ago, and from that opportunity will go on giving back to their community in the way that they do. I looked over the property and all the people there, most of them children, some of them men and women from the compound come to draw clean water, and felt grateful for the inspiration that brought this place into being.  At some point, hopefully, people will come for medical care and counseling as well.  All of us who are involved know the same thing: it is good to be a part of this.

After half an hour or so spent in gawking at our project in this way, and in admiring the changes in our building and all the improvements around the property, I finally went to work.

Our first task was to meet with Francis, a local electrician.  Three of the houses that have been roofed over the past month are on the Living Compassion property.  They are occupied by three of the women who do the daily work, and their families.  It occurred to us that it would not be too difficult to wire these houses, plus a fourth that is right next door, for electricity.  Francis had come to explore this possibility with us.

Francis
 

Francis, Friday, Theresa, and I then toured the four houses to decide exactly how we wanted the work to be done (where the lights would be, how many outlets each house would have, etc.).  As we did, I think it became clear to all of us what a huge deal it would be if these people suddenly got electricity.  It is something they have only dreamed of until now.  We realized that we have the power (in more ways than one) to make a miracle happen. 

We left Francis to do his calculations and make a parts list, and then proceeded on to the next item on our agenda.  Along the way we were surprised by Georgina, carrying baby David in her arms!  “Come, David.” she said to him, “Meet your namesake.” 

Baby David was born about four months ago.  This was my first opportunity to meet him.  “He looks just like you!” Georgina said when she gave him to me.  I was nearly speechless with delight.  We all sat down on some stones to spend some time with the little guy.  What a handsome rascal he is!  I told Georgina how honored I felt to share my name with her son, and how much it had moved me when I learned of it in July.  I still cannot believe that this has happened.  Holding Baby David in my arms, it was hard to forget (as it is sometimes easy to do) that I am one of those who are making a difference, also, just like the Living Compassion women, and that my own work has affected other people’s lives.  Georgina smiled at me, as if she understood what I was thinking.  “He will grow up to be big and strong like you,” she said.

Georgina and Baby David
 

Dave and Baby David
 

Soon it was time for Baby David’s next meal, and we took the opportunity to press on with our business.  We went inside the “kitchen” building to visit with the four women (Georgina is one of them) who have spent the last six weeks on a gigantic sewing project.  Soon after I return, Cheri will be attending an important conference and asked that 325 handbags be made for her to take with her to promote the project in Kantolomba.  We went inside to find the women sitting in front of four sewing machines, surrounded by piles of scrap material and finished bags.  The bags are terrific, I think.  For some time we have been looking for a product we can market in the United States to help bring money to the compound, and I personally think the bags could be it.  “How many do we have?” I asked them.  They need to be finished by next Tuesday, as I will transport them home in my luggage.  “Three hundred and two!” they replied.  Only 23 more to go. 

Dave, Nellie, Esther, Georgina, and Josephine (in front) with completed handbags
 

Next, Francis, Friday, and I piled into Friday’s truck for a dash to town to price the parts for the electrical project.  We visited three shops, each one its own unique expression of African culture.  I wish I had the leisure to describe in detail this short outing—every excursion like this is an adventure in itself around here—but, alas, I do not.  We spent an hour zooming here and there, collecting our “quotations,” then returned just in time for a meeting with Gaudencia, the contractor responsible for the completion of our main building.

An electrical supply store
 

I enjoy and admire Gaudencia a great deal, and was tickled to see her.  She was her usual strong and confident self.  We had much to do, but before we got down to business I had the pleasure of delivering a gift to her from America.  I had smuggled a power drill, some drill bits, and eleven pounds of screws into the country in my suitcase.  These things cannot be obtained here in Ndola, and will greatly help her with the last phases of the building.  Gaudencia was delighted, as you can imagine.

Gaudencia, Theresa, and James with their gifts
 

Then, as we have done so many times before, Theresa, Gaudencia, James (the foreman) and I walked through the building room by room to examine the work that has been done and to resolve any remaining issues.  Much still remains to do, but nothing compared to what has been done already.  The roof will hopefully be finished before I depart next week.  This is an important point, as the rainy season begins in about a month.  After the roof the ceiling will be installed, then the floor.  At the same time the glass will be installed in the windows, the electrical wiring will be completed (it has mostly been done already), and the plumbing will be fine-tuned.  Then there will be the painting (lavender, I’m told) and the clean-up, and we’re done!  With a little luck all the children will use the new building for their schoolhouse this rainy season, and Jen and Cheri will find a finished project when they come here in January.

When we finished our walk-through, I was astounded to realize that it was late afternoon already.  How time flies in Africa!  There was nothing to do but return to the guesthouse for an evening meal and my computer, and to wait impatiently for the next day to come.

Dave saying goodbye for the day
 

Posted in 2008 Trip Blogs

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Last Saturday I left the Monastery on a very unusual assignment.  As a monk I generally do not choose what work I will do. I simply get a note informing me of my task, and then I set out to accomplish it, whatever it may be.  In this case, the only difference was that I was asked if I were willing:

Dave,
How would you feel about going alone to Africa in September?
Gasshō

I will admit that I hesitated for a moment at the word “alone.”  I have been to Zambia many times now, but never on my own.  I have never been solely responsible for the success of one of our missions there.  I quickly saw the obvious, however, that I would not be alone at all: there are dozens of wonderful people in Ndola who know and love me, and would do everything in their power to keep me safe and comfortable.  Besides, they are the ones that make the magic happen, not us.  We are just along for the ride.  With that realization I could only say yes, and then count my many blessings.

That was two months ago.  It is now Tuesday evening, September 16, and I have arrived at last in Ndola, after three days spent in transporting my body from California, with all of the cramped spaces and bad food that this entails.  Veteran blog-readers will remember the routine: the interminable flight to South Africa; pizza and a jet-lagged night at the Airport Game Lodge in Johannesburg; the dash to the airport the next morning to be on time for the delayed (it’s always delayed) hop to Ndola, the ritual latte during the wait; the flight itself; and then the big reward for all that effort and discomfort: being greeted at the tiny airport in Ndola by one of the most beautiful people in the world, Theresa Kapenda.

View from the Game Lodge porch.

Waiting for supper in the gazebo.

One of our close friends in Johannesburg.

The traditional pre-flight latte

Theresa’s smile was as generous as ever.  I cannot say how wonderful it was to see her after so many strange faces for so long.  She gave me a very big hug, and then we piled into the taxi she had brought to carry me and my things to town.

Home at last

Theresa beside the taxi

Along the way she gave me the news from Kantolomba.  Living Compassion has suddenly become a very big deal in the community, she told me.  This summer we hired two carpenters to install new roofs on the 19 houses belonging to the people we employ in the community.  These roofs are being financed by loans from individuals in the United States.  Over the past couple of months, one by one, shiny metal roofs have appeared here and there in the compound.  This, more than anything else we have done—more than the clean water, more than the impressive building that is nearly completed on our property—has attracted the attention of the community.  When I asked Theresa for the reason, she said, “The people are saying that we take care of the people of Kantolomba.  Other groups have come here to build things, but they did not care, and they do not stay—Living Compassion cares, and is committed to the people.  The people are saying that those who have joined with Living Compassion are healthy, and their children are healthy.  And now they have new roofs, so their homes will not wash away during the rainy season.”

After the usual food-and-water errands, we drove up to Castle Lodge, our home away from home in Ndola.  Eunice, the manager and owner, greeted us with her unstoppable enthusiasm while I wondered at the gigantic changes that have happened at the lodge since I was last here.  People will likely remember from the summer’s blog that Eunice is quickly turning her modest guesthouse into an international spa and resort (the spa idea is new).  As always, she is on fire with new ideas and possibilities, and she shared these with us on an impromptu tour.

Eunice, glowing as usual

The gigantic thatched dining pavilion at sunset.  Seats 250 or more.

Theresa and I continued our conversation on the porch of my handsome room.  When I asked her about the effect of our project on the women who work for Living Compassion and make it all happen, she said, “Living Compassion is a true blessing for the women.  We are admired by others.  We are given respect.”  Then she told me that every month, when the women get paid, they all walk to the Lubuto market together with their children, and come back with giant sacks of mealy-meal (corn grits) on their heads, and containers of cooking oil in their hands.  People stare at them as they come home with so much food.  Most of the people in Kantolomba eke out a living, at best, and can only afford to buy tiny bags of mealy-meal at a time.  They are impressed by what the women have accomplished in being able to support their families as they do.

Theresa

A shy monk

Theresa also told me many stories of the changes that have happened in people’s lives as a result of the work we are all doing (I hope to share some of them as a part of a future blog).  It is an exciting time to be a part of Living Compassion in Kantolomba right now.  I can’t wait until tomorrow, when I will be able to see it for myself.

Theresa and I enjoyed an hour together in this way, talking things over and planning for the week.  We have many fun and exciting adventures ahead of us, I feel sure.  Stay tuned.

My new office and kitchen

Posted in 2008 Trip Blogs

Update from Theresa, our coordinator in Kantolomba

Posted in Project Updates

August 20, 2008 Project Update

Gasshō,

One of the most distressing and frustrating situations we’ve encountered in our work in Kantolomba is what goes on with the men. There are many aspects to the problem, no doubt many more than we are aware of, but here are the common themes that everyone speaks about.

1. Jobs are scarce, applicants plentiful–85-90% unemployment nationwide.
2. What a man does is to go to a job.
3. All work other than going to a job is women’s work.
4. Men do not help with anything in the home or the community.
5. With nothing else to do, men drink.
6. Women brew the illegal liquor that men consume.
7. The alcohol, combined with poor or lacking nutrition, quickly results in death.
8. Men can have more than one wife and any number of girlfriends.
9. Women have no rights.
10. When a man tires of a woman, he can simply throw her out with nothing.
11. Women are beaten for attempting to avoid pregnancy.
12. Children belong to the man.
13. Raping a wife is not considered a problem or a crime.
14. When a woman has produced many children she is called a “suitcase,” simply a bag for carrying children, and is discarded for a “fresh” woman, often one who is very young.
15. The woman is expected to support the family.
16. The woman seeks money to feed the children; the man takes the money for “brew.”

We have known all of this since shortly after arriving, but what could we do? We are white foreigners. We can offer opportunities; we can support people through education, a lunch program for the children, and some basic medical care. But we can’t come in and require wholesale changes in their social structure. And yet, in the time we’ve been working together, it has become increasingly apparent that the women are desperate, miserable, trapped, and suffering. It can sound noble to talk about not interfering with another culture or about the importance of allowing people to create their own destiny, but that’s not how we see it for ourselves! Around the world people have fought hard to end all sorts of oppression. In the United States today, minorities and women still work to achieve equal rights.

We are cautiously optimistic that a good approach to working for a change in this situation has opened up for us: Friday.

We have interacted with Friday through two month-long visits. First he stopped to help a bunch of musungus with a broken car. He was fair and honest and worked tirelessly for a whole month to resurrect that doomed vehicle. During that visit we learned he was in a custody battle with his former wife over their two children. She did not want the children but threatened to take them if he didn’t give her money. This whole situation is unheard of here, as far as we can tell. Single men simply do not raise children, even if the mother has died. A female relative is found to do the job of child rearing. Yet Friday fought to have his children and cares for them by providing meals and baths and school—a very good sign.

During the trip to Victoria Falls, he continued to impress us with his knowledge, discussing the political situations in South Africa and Zimbabwe and world politics as well, his attentiveness to the details of our trip, his sensitivity to the needs of the group, his awareness of the “big picture,” and general good-naturedness, regardless of what we asked him to do. While we washed dishes one evening, he told us he was raised with his father saying, “There are not men and women, there are just human beings.”

When he took us to Kantolomba, rather than sitting in the vehicle waiting for us (as every other driver we’ve had will do), he grabbed a pick and joined the step-building crew. He worked right along with the rest of the guys until quitting time. The next day he came dressed to dig, and once again matched the other men swing for swing. Since then he has helped to paint the building for the ceremony and served as translator for the event.

Friday making a spontaneous sewing machine repair.

All this background is to say that he looks like a very good candidate to start a “men’s consciousness raising movement” in Kantolomba. We need carpenters to put on the new roofs, fix the old roofs on our property, build tables and benches for the school, and put up a fence, but we have no one we can trust with the job. This is one area in which Theresa would not be qualified to lead, primarily because of the social issues previously outlined. She would not yet be able to question a man about the money he spent or challenge him if the supplies mysteriously disappeared—which they would do!

But Friday, speaking both Bemba and English and having his own truck, could oversee the securing of the materials, be responsible for the funds, determine which men were good workers, and get rid of those who were drinking on the job. He could communicate the requirements for working for/with Living Compassion. He would be able to explain that to be a part of the Living Compassion team one does not just go to work, finish work, and start drinking. Being on that team means everyone works together and everyone does all the work. So a day’s work could consist of carpentry and then perhaps gardening. They will all have to understand that Theresa is the “big boss,” and that she takes direction from a group of musungus on the other side of the world. They would also be expected to attend adult education classes that would include health education. Friday could also lead the kinds of discussion groups that we have with the women so that the men, too, could talk about what they need, what they feel is stopping them, and how those impediments might be removed. And, perhaps, Friday could slowly begin to mentor them in a new view of what it means to be a man, a husband, a father, and a contributing member of a community.

Of course this will cost money. Friday now works at many jobs, including as a mechanic, to come up with the funds necessary to keep his family together in this extremely depressed economy. We are thinking of offering him a three days a week position, allowing him the alternate days to pursue his other occupations. Our men could work five days a week, and Friday could monitor their progress on his days with them. We’re thinking a Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule for Friday would permit maximum supervision and progress.

One of the men at work installing new roofs made
possible through the Roof Loan Program.

The men dismantling the walls of a building beyond repair.

We feel good about investing in this approach because we realize we can go only so far working exclusively with the women. If the community is to become truly sustainable, the whole community must move forward together.

We ask regularly for financial support to continue these projects. Currently, we have eighteen of the nineteen loans needed to put roofs on the houses of the Living Compassion team before the rains begin. (Actually we’ve decided to fix up three of the houses on the Living Compassion property and rent them to single mothers on the team, thereby decreasing the women’s monthly expenses, while improving the property all at once—but more about that soon.) Now we’re hoping that there are those reading this who find it particularly inspiring to assist in this new program for the men. We estimate that it will cost about $200 US per month to secure Friday’s services. If you feel moved to support this project, please note “for the men” in the notes portion of your donation.

As always, we are beyond grateful that we are all engaged in this wonderful work together.

In lovingkindness,
Jen
Africa Projects Coordinator

Posted in Project Updates

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Leaving day. Always a time of mixed emotions. Who wouldn’t look forward to returning to reliable electricity, hot showers (any showers at all we would settle for at this point), ample vegetarian food, air that is not constantly smoky (though we hear we have at least as much smoke to look forward to at home in northern California as we currently have here), roads that are not full of potholes, and one’s own bed. And yet, departing is difficult. Each time we come our commitment deepens, our friendships grow, and we feel more and more like Zambia is truly another home for us. It has become part of who we are. The folks here are part of our family, part of Sangha.

Jen left on the early flight. The one time we were hoping the flight would be delayed so we could get more business done, it was on time to the minute! So we flew around town dropping things here, packing up, saying last minute goodbyes. We all pretended it would only be tomorrow until we see each other again (or 3 or 6 months but…). These are good people over here in Zambia. We take great pleasure in knowing that many of you will get to meet Theresa in 2009, when she comes for the 8th Annual Bridge Walk, and see for yourself what a special person she is. (We are starting to plan the U.S. tour for September 2009. If you interested in seeing Theresa in your town, now is the time to let us know.)

We thank you again for being out there, for reading, responding, fundraising, for being part of the family, and mostly for caring. This is great fun what we are all doing together!
Ichibote (peace in Bemba) and Twatotela (thank you) until the next trip,
The Africa Team

Our boys get up to come say farewell.

Driving away from our home in Ndola.

The last sunset before Cheri leaves the country.

Posted in 2008 Trip Blogs, July 2008 Trip

Monday, July 21, 2008

We’re coming down to the wire so today is a “hit it” day. We stop by the hardware store to arrange the roofing tin delivery, then hustle to the Department of Education to meet the officials for their tour of our project out in Kantolomba.

Stacks of roofing sheets in the store.

Loading the sheets to be transported out to Kantolomba.

As we arrived, we could see the carpenters were making good progress with roof demolition. That was a high-point of that particular visit since giving a tour to the officials was definitely not up-lifting. For whatever reason, and in stark contrast to the visit by the representative of the Permanent Secretary’s office, these folks could find nothing to like. We don’t know what it was all about since we have received a great deal of information that what we’re doing there is truly extraordinary. We will find out more on our next visit.

Christopher and Pascal dismantling one of the structures on our property that was no longer safe. Once the roofs come off they must knock the walls down or children will play in them—obviously a dangerous proposition since the walls can collapse at any time.

The women work to carry the poles that will be beams to hold the roofing.

As always, Friday gets in on the action, too.

Next, a quick meeting with the women for a follow-up discussion on birth control options and to pick up the dozen chitenge monk bags Georgina had made on the new machine. After a re-do of the property videoing, we met with Gaudencia to discuss roof flashing, make a decision about flooring, and pick a site for the VIP toilets (very fancy outhouses).

Cute faces come by to wish us goodbye!

Back to town for last minute errands: a color swatch from the paint store; roofing wire, a hand saw, and a tape measure for the carpenters; and a few pharmacy items for the gals. Then to Castle Lodge where we could go over a business plan with Eunice (including the spa, bridal boutique, and vegetarian menu) and meet with Sara, a fourth-year medical student from Stanford doing research in the Ndola clinics, whom we’d meet in town one day. The whole thing turned out quite well since Sara’s accommodations weren’t suiting her and Eunice was open to having Sara move up to Castle Lodge. Much better for a poor student who will now have access to refrigerator and stove as well as internet. (In the “small world” department, Sara has been to meditation at the Palo Alto Zen Center.) Unfortunately, they were way too much fun and by the time we took Eunice up on her offer of dinner, we had a very late night before departure.

Cheri and Eunice on one couch; Sara is on the right, checking email.

Posted in 2008 Trip Blogs, July 2008 Trip