Now this is Labor Day!

Here in the US on the first Monday in September we take a 'holiday' from work.  This holiday was born from union leaders protesting the need for a break.  I am all for a break and a time to end the 'summer' on a slow and easy note.  No complaints here.

However, let's go back to Zambia and in a few pictures I will share what hard labor is really like for little pay.  Here in the US we 'cry' poor and many people are struggling but the majority of Americans do not know poor.  The simplest home here would be a dream home for most Zambians, to include the leaders, the educators, the ambassador and medical people.  Seriously!!!!

On this Labor Day weekend please stop and count your blessings.  If you are reading this you have a computer, electricity, and I will leave the rest of my 'list of blessings' out of this writing. 

Let's have look at real labor issues and a people who long for a job, long to survive and to provide for there families.  There is no minimum wage, no insurance, no medical care to be had, no vacation pay, no maternity leave, just work.  Work they are grateful to have.

Home.

Each of these people will return home to their huts.  Water will be scarce and most likely they will sleep on the ground.   My resounding message with each blog is be thankful for all that you have, know that most of the world cannot even imagine your blessings. 

These ladies work in the Cashew Factory.  Every single cashew is hand shelled, cleaned and processed.  It is tedious work. They are at a treadle table that cracks the shell of the cashew.

These men are about to make a 14 day journey back to Angola to sell their goods.

These ladies are heading home from shopping.  The day is ending and work at home will begin

Oxen are the transportation for this man to get his goods to the market.

The market is filled with people eking out living selling their goods.

This lady is grinding her masa for the days meal.

These cabbages came from the gardens below. 

A baby on her back this lady is watering her garden.  The lady on your right is pumping the water for her hose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This young man is working in the irrigation ditch that sends water to the gardens above. 

Let's Talk Food

 

A couple of nights ago,  I was at meeting with many of the wonderful volunteers that work with Hands of Hope.   They were eager to know of our adventure and for us to share first hand how the  projects that they helped to raise money for were being used. (http://www.handsofhopeonline.org/ )

There were so many questions and as I listened I realized again how very hard it is to put yourself in another persons culture especially one that is so very foreign to us.  On the flip side the Zambians from the Western Province have no clue on how we live either.  Beside living many thousands of miles apart we are equally as far from each other in life styles and expectations.

Americans are blessed with food.  We have grocery stores loaded with shelves, carrying the same product but different manufactures trying in some way to convince us that theirs is best.  In my area we have grocery stores popping up that are like 'food' department stores.  The produce, the meat, to all of the canned goods, the items are showcased and staged like a fashion show.  We can basically get every fresh fruit available to man kind, not to mention fresh vegetables and herbs. These blessings come to us any time of the year.  We can get fresh cut flowers, sushi, and meals 'to go',  all under one roof. In some stores grand piano's set the mood for something much more than a food store. Nothing remotely close to our poorest convenience store or tiny neighborhood grocery store or outlet is in Zambia.  Nothing.

I knew from other travels that I should have no expectations of what we would eat.  That was a very good mind set as one goes into Mongu.  But knowing in ones head that food was going be quite different and experiencing the reality of different food are two different things. Adjusting to food and liking the food are also two different things to grapple with.

My last post told of the awesome discovery of the 'bread lady'. I also shared that I too bake bread.  I also grind my own wheat or grains or even corn when I bake. This is not so impressive as one might imagine.  I have this wonderful strong electric grinder that turns even the hardest of grains into fine powder/flour in short order.   With my awesome tools and a desire to know more about 'grains' this whole masa/corn for every meal intrigued me.  As in my last post I came away humbled and grateful for the blessings in my life. What I do is a hobby and for pleasure. What these people experience is a very hard life, just hoping to eat each day.

Food in Mongu is quite simple. Not healthy but simple.  Masa/Maize/Homony/White Corn each of these words describes the main staple in the Zambian diet.  It is cooked in water, not always clean water, whatever water is available.  It is boiled and seasoning was not part of recipe. Masa is grits with no flavoring.  It is eaten by hand,  most often ground by hand.  It is in the most remote village and in every restaurant. Even the chickens eat it.  Later we eat it with chicken :).

The white oval mounds were my first exposure to Masa.  Every restaurant serves it just like this, 3 oval mounds. It is eaten with your fingers, you scoop your vegetable or your meat along with the masa

I was allowed to cook in one of the villages we visited.  This village was a larger compound and this was a community 'kitchen'.  We were part of a celebration so to the left you will see a second pot of 'stew'.  Beef is not a normal part of their meals, this was being prepared for us.  The Masa pot is set over hot coals. 

These are the ladies that invited me into their kitchen.  They were so much fun to be with. 

This is just a village lady preparing to cook her masa.

A young sister is feeding her brother masa. Soon after everyone was back to work.

 







In the photo's below you see how masa/maize is ground.  Take a kernal of popcorn, triple the size and you have the property of maize.  The shell is very hard and grinding is tedious when done by hand. I only played with this for a few minutes but I will admit I am grateful that this not my every day task! The pestle is heavy and the mortar made from what appeared to be stone.  To feed a family their daily supply of food requires a lot of hard work.


However, in one of the villages we visited, progress had been made.  Through a micro finance loan from Hands of Hope technology had come to the bush!  This simple, simple area that were visiting had a business!  They owned a 'hammer mill'.  It is loud, it is messy and it is awesome!  


Everyone uses, needs and grinds their masa!  When a village has a machine that will grind it, hours of time is saved daily for the women!   The cost to own this machine is several thousand dollars and the micro finance loans allow individuals to serve their village and surrounding villages.  A business is born. 

Business is done here!

The cost to use the mill is based on the weight of the product.

 As Americans we know that the food value of corn is weak.  It is a grain with few nutrients.  As you sit down at your next meal, note one that you are 'sitting' at a table, in a home with a floor.  As you sit down and you have a variety of food on your table or at the very least something other than ground corn pause and give thanks.  Your simplest meal is a feast to most of the world.

Farming looks might easy when your plow is a pencil and you are a thousand miles from the corn field.  David Eisenhower

Baking

Today's blog is going to take you off the beaten track, a different track from the purpose of my trip as a whole.   I probably should share this story in the telling of my time on the King's property, however this is a wonderful stand alone account that I do not want to be lost. 

I was able to have an afternoon that was 'free' for me!  I had  so much fun.  I was free to ask questions and linger and not be a 'diplomat' and just be an individual on a great adventure. I was probably the only white woman besides my one companion  to have graced this area in a long time.   I had freedom to observe, to reflect on the things I was seeing and experience them on my terms.  I learned so many things that I would not have known, had this serendipity not been given to me.  I was inwardly pinching myself.

This discovery came as we were walking on a path to see a different community not as remote as those of past days. I was breathing in the smell of smoke, a mix of charcoal and wood filled the air.  This is not a unique smell.  In fact all of the Western Provence of Zambia has this smell.  I came home with my clothes carrying this smell. I purchased some woven baskets as gifts that still carry this smell, it sinks into  everything.  However, a different smell was also permeating our senses.  Bread!  A hot yeasty bread. 

As a bread baker, a bread baking educator, student and consumer of breads, this smell had my attention at the first sniff.   We were walking by a hut where this smell was drawing me toward it.  I asked my guide if it would be okay to stop and visit with the baker.   I was granted a wonderful, wonderful experience.

My guide, whom I will tell you more about at another time, is really in step with what Hands of Hope  (http://www.handsofhopeonline.org/) is all about. One of her many jobs is that of an educator, helping women get a chance to change their lives. Teaching them how to have a business and getting them education is her goal. She too was interested in this lady and engaged conversation with her.

This village woman is in a good place for a tribal African woman.  She looks healthy, her property was neat and organized and she bakes scones.  Scones by definition are are a biscuit that originated from Scotland in the 1600's.  Well her 'scones' were nothing like a biscuit, They were incredible rolls that would grace any fancy dinner table here in the states.  They were beautiful in shape, delicate in texture and delicious.  She sells them to other villagers, it was dinner time and I am guessing that they probably come to get them warm and gobble them down before they go home.

I generally did not taste or eat anything in the villages, it is a good rule to follow.  But in this case it was a must.  I gave her a Kwatcha, a generous amount for one roll,  but that was all I had and I figured it was a wonderful investment in her business.  I have no clue what she charges but I hope my purchase made her day.  It made mine.   Below I am going to show you her 'kitchen'.  The explanation will be in the captions below each photo.  I remain humbled and amazed! These emotions have not left me as I work in my own kitchen.  I need to look at these photos often to reflect on my blessings. 

This oven/stove is a nice one!  It is built up with cement blocks and  some sheet metal.  I have not idea how the temperature is determined but she has it down pat.

This is a rather large cooking area compared to others I have I seen. The 'straw fence' is placed around the kitchen area to keep the blowing sand away.

I asked if she would let me see her kitchen. She was delighted and I was humbled. The working area is maybe 4ft x 5ft. The only advantage she has over me is that the grass mat allowed the crumbs to fall through on the sand below.  But it is ever so humble by our standards and grand compared to other village kitchens.

Note the tomatoes in both pictures for perspective.   The above items were in the corner. What you are seeing is a bin for water and a basin for washing and mixing. 

She was so very proud of her kitchen and that we took an interest in her life.

I decided this photo was worth a repeat!  This picture does not capture how beautiful these 'scones' are and how wonderful they tasted. :)

These are the main ingredients of her rolls.  There was also sugar but she did not show me this item. Perhaps it was the secret ingredient she was not willing to share :)?

This is her home.  As she is facing us in the picture above she is looking at her home.  The grounds are neat, there is a door on her mud hut, the clothes are washed and hanging and she has space. 

I returned home to my beautiful kitchen, my hot and cold running water, my two sinks, my double oven, my awesome counter tops, my air conditioned home and I put my 'wish' list aside.  I need nothing more but to remain humble, grateful and to use the wonderful blessings I already have.

Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”  Hebrews 15:3 (The Bible)

Back to School- Part 2

As I continue to peel off the layers of my adventure, more and more  thoughts come to my mind.  One, why do I feel compelled to write down the details of this place and to share their story to people thousands of miles away?  As I begin to answer my own question I share with you the reader that their story must be told.  These people in this barren waste land  and others like them might be offered hope to grow beyond their harsh circumstances.

My last post told a little of school life in the bush, but just a little.  I showed you pictures of the new school, painters finishing up, the pile of new desks in one room and two students excited about this new building.  I shared a couple of photos of two guys with their new soccer uniforms that could have never imagined having such a thing.  But there is more to this event and building!

The people in the village gave us a party.  The dedication of this new school, oh yes and a new well, was the focus. As we turned off the main road onto what I would call a wide trail, our driver had to put our vehicle into 4 wheel drive.  The sand, not unlike a bad snow here, came up to the middle of the tires most of the trip.  We drove quite a distance from the main road in what appeared to me, the middle of no where.  For the students in this village to go to a school they walked to the main road to begin their trek to their 'local' school. They sought out Zambia Works (Zambia Works  is our organization in Africa) and plead their case. To grasp how much they wanted this school and well,  a chief walked about 10+ miles to the Zambi Works office just to plead the case.  He then walked back home. How passionate are you about anything in your life?  This is passion and sacrifice that paid off.

Enduna (Chief) and Alan Project Manager!

At the dedication there were several chiefs, Enduna's.  I am still trying to figure out how many people fall under a 'chiefs reign'. However, there were several chiefs sitting with us.  One chief was singled out as he gave his land for the school.   Property is their only wealth and to give it away is a precious gift.  He was an older man and he now left a legacy of giving, of education and hope.  The younger man in this photo is Alan.  He was the project manager and unlike many of the men in his village he worked very hard and claimed the prize as being a great leader.

Each Chief was given a flashlight.

This is the 'witch doctor' dance that was part of the ceremony. A chief was dancing too. It was a bit provocative.

Another unique story behind this school, is how it was built. In this culture the women do most of the work.  In poor parts of the world 'community effort' and 'team work' do not exist.  It is survival for me and it is each person for themselves. This school changed some history.  A brick making machine was brought to the site to make the blocks for the school.  The men began to participate in helping to make the bricks.  Their involvement  helped the process to go faster and the school was built in record time.  The news of this spread and the 'me too' factor kicked in, other villages stepped forward wanting a school of their own.   Other villages are now wanting to do the same.  Competition is a great motivator!  The schools that we dedicated, the clinic and our projects brought Zambia Works onto the governments radar.  In another blog I will share more of this story.  It is so cool. Today politics is not a subject I want to deal with, so stay tuned, it will come up eventually.

Hands of Hope brought 'new' T-shirts to give to the men who worked on the school project.  New anything is a gift.  The logo gave them bragging rites to their school project.  The next day we saw several men biking on the main road wearing these new shirts. It was awesome!

The ladies (all of the ladies) were given a new scarf!  It was so fun and exciting to see them wrap their heads up immediately upon receiving them.   The suckers?  A bonus!

What is a celebration without candy? We brought suckers.  Upon our arrival we decided to not give them out because we did not bring enough.  Our message was not conveyed and we suddenly see them being handed out. My prayer and fear was that some kids were not going to get them and how sad that would have been.  I know many of you reading this do not believe in prayer or miracles but I do.  I watched one happen before my eyes.  There were suckers for all of the kids, some older children got them and we had one bag left over.  Impossible?  Not for God :)   I wish I had more pictures of kids, but they were scared of 'white' people. :)

The photo below shows the deep hole that was dug to obtain the sand that the bricks that were made from. The bricks are what the school is made out of.   Finding sand is not a problem, lifting it out of of the hole is the bigger issue.   

Sand Pit. This photo does not do the size of this hole justice.

New Kitchens!

In the next photo you will see ladies preparing their meal just before the 'party'. Note how they cook.  The bricks are left over from the school.  They were not wasted.  When I took this photo I had not been to enough villages to grasp the significance of this picture.  I just saw ladies cooking and I was fascinated by how these people live.   I now know that each section is a different person's kitchen.  So, besides a school several ladies got kitchens out of the deal!  Note the 5 gallon water bottles in the back ground.  The wonderful thing is that their well was just a few feet away!  :)

It took a village, a group of ladies raising money through Hands of Hope, a chief desperate to see his peoples lives improved to pull this off.  They will treasure these gifts and cherish the memories of this day, as will I.   

 To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable. Faith means believing the unbelievable. Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless. 

G. K. Chesterton

Back to School - Part 1

Today the kids in my neighborhood returned to school.  It is a beautiful, sunny day, the giggles and excitement were fun to hear.  They catch their bus just outside my driveway.   As I pondered on my next blog topic this mornings activity decided it for me.

While in Zambia we dedicated two new schools!  Two!  Schools that Hands of Hope built because ladies here helped to raise the money a dollar at a time.  Schools that their government should have built but would not.  The new schools are in very remote areas where children would have to walk many miles to attend a school closest to them.  Now in these two villages school is accessible.

I am bouncing emotionally  between our two cultures.  Our neighborhood children climb on a bus and go a beautiful school about one mile away.   Their school has electricity, plumbing (toilets, drinking fountains, sinks), supplies and beautiful surroundings. The schools are clean and neat!  For my neighbors and grand daughters  I am glad.  They have highly trained teachers and for that I am glad.  Even with classroom sizes fuller than we might prefer the education our students are receiving is superior to most of the world. 

The schools that we dedicated in Mongu are new with fresh paint and newly shaped  cement blocks.  Hands of Hope provided desks and black boards.  (Oh yes, Smart Boards are not even in the vocabulary listing and computers are so out of reach that even the teachers do not have them. )

The desks are simple and made locally.  Many times when a school is built there are no desks or black boards.  These students, poor as they are starting out well.  


School supplies as we know them do not exist.  Backpacks are not needed as there is nothing to put in them.  Pencils, notebooks are pure luxury but education does go forward. To read and to write are the beginnings of a changed life.  Knowledge opens doors that ignorance shuts.

This school is a gift for many generations to come.  My prayer and with the work and efforts of Hands of Hope we can help these villages to become communities that can sustain a quality of life that helps to break this cycle of poverty and ignorance.  We do not come in giving hand outs, that method has proven time and time again to not work.  It does not work in our country and it has not worked in Zambia.  So education and walking beside them, teaching them to stand on their own is a slow process but one that will stand the test of time.

I LOVE giving gifts and when I choose a gift I spend a lot of time thinking about the receiver and the joy the gift will bring.  What a  thrill to be part of the gift giving in this particular village!  Hands of Hope brought an 'unheard of' gifting for the school. These gifts were over the top exciting.  The bestowing of new soccer balls, two different colored T-shirts and soccer shorts for their 'team' were the most delightful part of my time at this celebration.  It was pure joy to see these boys faces light up.  Soccer uniforms, a luxury beyond comprehension.  Added to this, two trophy's were included.  The trophies will travel between the winning teams so others too will benefit, should they win. :)  This school has bragging rites that will spread to other schools and villages.  This excitement will bring encouragement and hope at the same time.  It does not get much better for these villagers who live in the bush. 

.  "And remember the words of the Lord Jesus, that He said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive."  Acts 20:35 (Bible)

Water?

Have you ever returned from a trip eager to look at your photos in total, only to find pictures you thought were in place, missing?  Today finds me in such a place.  Grrrrrrr.   I can't believe that one of the most moving moments for me is undocumented by my pictures.  My initial subject matter today will change just a bit now :( but the theme of today's blog is going to remain the same! This theme will surface over and over again in days to come.  WATER! 

I was pulled into Hands of Hope through a campaign to raise money for wells in Uganda.  Water, water, fresh, clean water the most important element of life that I can judge, beside air.  For with water you can grow the food needed to live, you can become clean and refreshed with water, you can fish for food through water and without water you die. 

My acute awareness of how critical water is started long before I went to Africa.  My daughter Kara was a very severe diabetic.  Her blood sugars were often very high and water was all she desired.  One summer she was swimming in a nice 'clean'  lake with friends.  That afternoon she called to tell me she had ingested some of the lake water and she 'knew' it was making her sick.  By early evening she was in the ICU close to death.  For her weak immune system this water though 'clean' was a killer.

Water in a desert wasteland is precious.  When I thought of mothers and young girls having to walk miles to get some form of water (not always clean) in 5 gallon buckets, to then walk back to their dirty huts, day in and day out,  my heart wrenched with emotion over their plight.  A gallon of water weighs (thanks to my friend Cheryl) 8 lbs.  Do the math! Each day, with a baby on her back a woman will carry 40 lbs of water.  Once the water has been gathered her other work begins.

In blogs to come I will be on a mission to raise money for 8 new wells.  Just be on notice :).  Why 8? Because Hands of Hope has money currently for two wells and we need money for 10, to begin digging.  $5000 is all that is needed for one well. :)  Stay tuned.

Hands of Hope shares pictures of the joy and hope that is brought by the work that we do.  However to begin to make my point on the desperate need for water or clean water,  I am going to show you pictures of a little girl getting water from the harbor.  I will tell you more of the harbor in blogs to come,  but for today imagine your child or family getting their water this way.  I watched as she filled the bottle. She then jumped out of the boat and ran with it filled, to the kiosk where her mom was working.  This harbor is filled with people who get their water the same way day after day.

She is just one little child  among many, who live here and get their water like this.  In these pictures water abounds but it is filthy.  In pictures to come you will see photos where water does not exist.   Tonight, as you fill your glass of water from your sink, refrigerator water  filter or you are pouring it from a pristine bottle, savor your blessings.  Then begin to think about giving so another person could have clean water.   I will let you know how to do this...so again stay tuned. :)


Pure water is the world's first and foremost medicine.  ~Slovakian Proverb

"Those who give one of these little ones a cup of cold water because they are my followers will truly get their reward." Matthew 10:42